#duckie’s writing!!

[bucketsofmonsters]

On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved. 

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 

What a privilege it was to die for them. 

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 

“Hello,” you responded. 

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

��Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again. 

Maybe not entirely alone. 

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 

You slid away from him, back into the cold. 

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 

You’d never slept better. 

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be." 

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 

 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words. 

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 

He returned in a few moments. 

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 

“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again. 

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 

 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 

You took off in a dead sprint after him. 

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 

And not a moment too soon. 

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly. 

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 

“Pytho?” you called out. 

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond. 

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked. 

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 

“What was that?” you asked quietly. 

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly. 

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 

You couldn’t be happier. 

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 

He was massive, probably a foot long. 

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 

“Please,” you asked. 

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said. 

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #dragon x reader #dragon boyfriend #dragon #dragon bf #The cws on this are wild #Phillip’s armour set up is a little wonky compared to most real armour #I attribute this to his accursed knight status #Definitely not just for narrative ease #I would never #also I came up with this idea and then wrote the whole thing in like 6 days #Everyone say thank you ducky #lol

[fluffyfantasticducky]

How to Cure Pains and Heartaches

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: After such a bitter end, Loki has no choice but to fade away. To his surprise he awakens in bed where he will be taken care of. Why? What do they want of him? Who's that lovely mortal?

☆ Word Count: 6,266

☆ Notes: Loki being a swooning darling, he's recovering from injuries in a fix it AU where he survives the attack on the Statesman and he gets to live on earth.

☆ Warnings: Mention of Loki's trauma and torture courtesy of the Mad Titan, fuck you Thanos. Mention of gaining weight (but it isn't given a negative conotation).

No one could deny Loki had gone through a lot of stuff, simply his Asgardian nature and the amount of exposure he had had with war from a young age would (rightfully) horrify most Midgardians, plus the pressure of being royalty and the responsibility it demanded with him.

In retrospect, Loki always knew his amount of responsibility were no way near as high as Thor’s, which allowed Loki to get some relief by following his nature as God of Mischief. But still: meetings, war council, royal balls, and in general trying to keep an image of perfection to most of Asgard other than Thor’s group and his parents who truly knew of Loki’s more playful nature, it was quite draining.

And that was before the true horrors.

That one trip to Jotunheim had been the source of over a decade of disgrace. Knowing all that battle would cause, he never would’ve let those three other Jotuns into the vaults of Valaskjalf.

After that, it was tragedy after tragedy. And the worst of them happened in the Sanctuary II.

At first, he thought some bounty hunters had recognized him, given they seem to know who he was, and the only reason they spared his life was because it would be about a matter of time until they’d bargain his life with Odin.

But after several months where he was starved, and his only contact was to be tortured, where the Black Order tore his body apart bit by bit, breaking bones, tearing skin only to throw him back into an isolation cell, where all that kept him together was his pride and the thought that Heimdall could see him and start a rescue mission, thing he learned years later couldn’t be done.

And when he didn’t cave in, they shattered his mind as well, using the Mind Stone on his scepter, giving him no choice but to submit. Everything bad in his life prior to that point seemed to be blissful field trip.

And for many years later he thought he would spend the rest of his life suffering to atone to the horrors he unleashed onto Jotunheim and New York. And by the time the Sanctuary II intercepted the Asgardian escape ship on its way to Earth, and he felt himself fading from reality… nothing had proved him otherwise.

At least he had protected his brother…

…

Who would’ve thought that the next time he opened his eyes he would be laying in a hospital bed, flowers by his ankles and a cervical collar? He had a thousand questions. Where was he? Who brought him there? Why had he been saved? Why couldn’t they let him just die?

Just when he thought it was another round of the same type of torture the Black Order inflicted on him, the door opened… Only about a few hours after waking up, and just in time when his stomach started growling.

The first time he saw you, you felt like a vision. Beautiful and most of it all, kind.

“Loki how are you feeling?” you smiled at him, as you stepped inside the room with a tray of warm food. The smell made his mouth water. “Were you waiting for long? Sorry, I didn’t hear you wake up.”

Loki was quietly staring at you. Not only because his throat was dry, but because he had no idea who you were or what were your intentions.

But you didn’t seem bothered by his silence. You just let out a little chuckle.

“You seem more active today” you smiled, “Usually you can only stay awake for a few seconds. Are you hungry?”

Loki wanted to be proud and say nothing, but his body’s needs were stronger, and a rather loud growl of his stomach gave it away how hungry he was, making his cheeks flare up in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, I would be hungry too if I hadn’t eaten anything in 5 years” you spoke compassionately, but with a hint of humor.

5 years?!?

“How long have I been here?” he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse beyond recognition, and it hurt to speak.

“Oh, you poor thing, you must be thirsty” you said as you reached his food tray and grabbed a cup of water with a straw and placed it just before his lips. “About your question, a few weeks, a Stark satellite detected a faint life signal and Thor went to find you.”

You spoke in such a humane manner that Loki couldn’t help but lower his guard a bit, and he opened his mouth as you helped him drink.

The water was cold and fresh, it felt so relieving that he couldn’t hold back a sigh when he finished drinking, that only happened when the cup was empty.

You let out a soft giggle at the sight of him. It was then that he recognized you, sort of.

He vaguely remembered your laugh, it was faint, but if he pushed himself to think about it, it was there. He never saw your face, but the sound was familiar, so he concluded it must have been previous visits while he was still unconscious.

It was a pretty sound… innocent, pure.

“You mentioned my brother…” Loki asked. “Is he…?”

As he made his question, you set a table before him and the tray on top of it. It was a huge bowl of soup, and one of mashed potatoes. His stomach growled once again.

“Thor has been visiting you every day practically without exception” you told him. “He talks to you, keeps you updated about his life. Last week he came with Doctor Foster, it seems they started seeing each other again. But we’ve notified him you’re finally awake.”

You sat beside him on the edge of the bed and grabbed the spoon on the tray and started feeding him the soup. It was so warm, and the flavor was rich, that his eyes started watering. What cruel trick was all this kindness? When would this all go South?

His forming tears didn’t go unnoticed, and you cupped his face, your soft fingers caressing his cheeks to clean his tears.

“You don’t have a fever, does it hurt anywhere?” you asked.

“No… I feel per—” he choked on his words, “I feel perfectly fine… all things considered.”

“I’ll monitor your reflex later, but first focus on eating” you said gently. “You need to regain your strength.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, he was so hungry that if he had had more strength, he would just hold the bowl and chug it all down. By the time he was onto the mashed potatoes he was a lot stronger, the second meal was just as tasty, seasoned just right to make him want to keep eating until his stomach popped.

He even let out a soft little breathy burp, which made you giggle again.

“Don’t eat so fast!” you scolded him with a happy tone.

He found it in himself to laugh softly along with you.

“5 years without food, I remind you” he joked back. “I’ll eat as fast as I can.”

“You were blipped 5 years... you didn’t age a day.”

“Blipped?”

You spent the next few minutes filling him in what had happened. Thanos won, and half of the universal population vanished, for them it was only a few minutes at most… while the rest of the universe aged 5 years. Five years, where everyone thought he was dead, where he was dead.

Now, Loki wanted to cry. The amount of relief that washed over him made him rest back.

“Finally… I’m free…” he sighed. “It’s over… he’s gone…”

He tried covering his eyes when he noticed the sting coming from his left arm, he noticed a cast neatly wrapped around it.

“Your neck injury was the most concerning, but your arm and ankle were badly wounded as well” you explained, and he noticed another cast covering his foot from arch to his ankle. “Although your foot is mostly healed by now.”

He put some attention to his bandaged foot and wiggled his toes, which thank the gods responded perfectly.

“It’s a bit itchy” Loki pointed out.

“I’m pretty sure that’s normal” you chuckled and grabbed a pencil from your pocket, and sneaked it in his cast, and scratched his sole. “Here.”

But the touch, while it somewhat alleviated the itch, it had an unexpected tickly feeling that caused Loki to yelp and jerked his foot back.

“Hehe-hey!” he giggled.

“I’m sorry” you apologized with a soft chuckle.

“You’re lucky I’m too weakened to put a dagger to your throat” Loki spoke, but he noticed he couldn’t get rid of the amusement in his voice.

“Perhaps I should take the chance to really make you laugh then.” You smiled, twirling the pencil on your fingers. “Given you can’t do anything to stop me.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Loki blurted out, “If you even dare to… to…”

He felt his cheeks flush. It had been so long since he had been tickled, it felt silly, plus he was quite vulnerable right now.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to upset you” you assured him, “…yet.”

You let out another soft laugh at the indignation in his face.

“Do you not know the consequences of crossing me?” Loki asked, “Are you that ignorant of the capabilities of the God of Mischief? I have terrorized this realm, Midgard bows before my power! I could finish you with a single hand.”

“What would you get out of it?” you asked bluntly. “You live here now; you would only lose.”

He looked at you and opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Not only was he too weak right now to even keep that threat, but truly besides that little tickle you had been nothing to but kind to him, and even that had been with the intention to help him.

“Do you truly not fear me?” Loki asked after another moment of silence.

“Should I?” you asked with a happy smile.

Perhaps he found that little grin of yours to be too charming, it could be the fact that you had his food and water at your mercy, or it could be the fact that you were a purely friendly presence, which he hadn’t had in… he couldn’t remember for how long. But he truly didn’t want you to be scared of him.

“I suppose not” he finally said.

“Predictable.”

Loki let out a laugh.

“You’re a funny little one” Loki smiled.

Just then a loud noise came in as if something huge was stomping their way through the hall. Which proved to be not far off because soon a large blond figure tumbled onto the door frame.

“Brother…” both Asgardians said in unison.

The older brother’s eyes filled with tears as he rushed to the bed, and with the last self-control he possessed, Thor didn’t tackle the raven haired into a bear hug. Just… collapsed on his knees by the side of his bed.

“You’re awake…” the God of Thunder burst into messy sobs. “…Alive.”

In other times, Loki would’ve found Thor’s reaction ridiculous, mockable, or annoying… but after all they had been through and seeing the streak of his own hair tangled in one of Thor’s braids… he let out a soft sob as he gently reached to place his hand on Thor’s head.

“Ahem!” you cleared your throat to make yourself present. “As long as you’re careful with his neck, you two can hug.”

You smiled and left the room to give them space. Both brothers let out a laugh and Thor cradled his little brother in his arms, supporting his head as if he was a baby as his other hand was squeezing Loki.

“I told you the sun would shine on us again” Loki spoke softly.

“You idiotic, insincere, irresponsible, impulsive, inconsiderate fool!” Thor scolded him, sounding more relieved than anything.

“Oh, good, you ran out of insults that started with an I” Loki laughed.

“I beg you, brother. Never give me a scare like that again” Thor begged.

“In my defense, I didn’t fake it this time” he whispered.

There was an awkward silence as none of the princes knew what to say to each other, there was so much to say, but… where to start?

“I… heard you started seeing Doctor Foster again.”

That made Thor smile as started telling Loki what he had done with his life, how Asgard was doing, which was what finally broke Loki, hearing Asgard managed to live on was that finally burst into tears as he hugged his brother again.

The two brothers talked for hours, and for the first time in years, if not ever, Loki felt the conversation with his brother be purely lighthearted. He was so lost in the chat that it took him hours to notice…

“You’ve gained weight” Loki pointed out.

“Quiet, you imp…” Thor snorted. “It’s been tough these last 5 years.”

“I… did not mean to be judgmental” Loki assured him. “It just… I’ve been out for so long…”

“Well, don’t get used to this, I’m already exercising again, and I’m renouncing to beer… aside from social events” Thor said happily.

“Oh? I didn’t know you drank” Loki tilted his head. “But… good for you.”

Thor’s face darkened, making Loki immediately regret his comment.

“It was… Very rough five years…” Thor said again. “I suppose time wasn’t kind on me.”

Loki felt a pang of guilt settle on his chest, after Ragnarök he truly had no intention to pull another stunt like that. For once, he had every intention to stick by Thor’s side.

But at the time the Sanctuary II intercepted their ship, all Loki could think was protecting Thor. Because he knew that if anything happened to his brother, no one else would’ve had a fighting chance against the Mad Titan. But he had been reckless.

“I— I’m sorry brother…” Loki apologized, and Thor smiled at him. “How’s Asgard?”

“It’s been difficult as you may imagine… but, you know… us Asgardians are stubborn, we’ve managed.” Thor smile. “Little Asgard is thriving!”

“Oh, I’m painfully aware, you’re all a nightmare” Loki joked, making Thor laugh again.

Despite his sarcasm, something in the way Thor said us Asgardians made Loki smile, by now Thor knew very well his true nature, and yet he still treated him as one of his own, like his brother, maybe not bound by blood, but by something stronger.

The conversation kept going until Loki’s stomach growled in hunger, but by then the sun had set a while ago. And it didn’t take long after when you had stepped in the room with a tray of food and Thor excused himself for the night.

The meals were simple and soft for a good while, porridge, broths and soups, sauce-less pastas, yogurts, Jello, but having a pretty mortal such as yourself literally feeding him and tending to his every whim made his recovery quite pleasant. Especially when he started eating solid foods again and the meals were a lot tastier.

“You’re healing quite fast,” you told him as you checked monitored his ribs for any soreness. “I’ve heard injuries usually take maybe 3 or 4 times longer to heal. …In the best of circumstances, but Stephen said your bones are practically all healed now.”

“If someone can pull out a miracle like that, a god should be the right place to go” he joked as he kept holding his shirt up so you could.

“That’s fair, also having the best doctors and technology at our disposal helps, doesn’t it?” you quipped.

“Do not underestimate my divinity, mortal” he said dramatically.

“Oh, yes, forgive me, your godly-ness…” you bowed just as dramatically.

“You’ve been gaining weight” you said as you prodded your stomach.

He let out a yelp.

“Rude” he said cheekily.

“No, I mean, you were practically nothing but skin and bones when we found you” you assured him, “I mean you seem healthier now. You must be in your healthy weight again by now.”

“Do not flatter me” Loki smirked.

“Flatter you?” you gasped out a laugh. “Nonsense, it’s been my care the reason you no longer look like a malnourished cat!”

He did not expect you to start prodding and squeezing his belly, instantly causing him to burst out laughing. Curse his gut for being this vulnerable to your playful fingers.

“Nohohohoho! Don’t!” he whined between cackles. “Stohohohop!”

“Oh my god!” you laughed and gave him a small breather “I didn’t even have to do anything… But if you insist…”

“W-What…? Insist…?”

“I won’t stop…”

“W-What? N-No! PLEHEHEHEASE! NO! STOP!” Loki begged despite his pride, but the way you kept squeezing his belly, giving his skin soft pinches made him wheeze out shaky laughter was too much. “NOT MY— NOHOHOHOHOHO!”

You started focusing on the patch of skin around his belly button, which surprisingly enough was even more ticklish than his navel itself. He started digging his heels onto the mattress as he arched and squirmed on the bed.

“Okay, okay!” you squeaked out as you grabbed his ankle, forgetting your playful attack, to settle him back on bed. “Easy there… you’ll hurt your foot again.”

He was more focused on catching breath, but he still felt you helping him stretch and move his ankle to check if he hadn’t hurt himself in the middle of his squirming.

“You’re… huff… huff… the worst nurse…” he groaned.

“Ask for another nurse who can deal with you” you chuckled as you gently tickled his sole making him let out a giggle.

You weren’t exactly part of the medical team, but after everything that had happened, the Avengers were understaffed, and every task that Tony’s technology couldn’t fill in were done by the Avengers themselves, his brother and Maximoff twins helped with cleaning, Bruce and Clint cooked, Tony handled the finances (in more than just been the Compound’s sponsor), and so and so.

You were a lab assistant, although, not in the medical field. Yet, given your friendly nature and bond with the God of Thunder, Thor himself had entrusted you to look after his most precious thing, his little brother. But under normal circumstances, you’d be working with chemicals or mechanics by the side of your mentors and the Spiderling.

Although now, you had been tasked solely to look after Loki, given no one else was capacitated to deal with him and you seemed to understand each other, and Loki even had friendly interactions with you. Or well, friendly for Loki.

“Get up!” you whined pulling him by his healthy arm.

“I don’t want to” Loki protested.

“Why not?” you huffed defeatedly as you let go of him.

“I don’t exactly feel excited to be sat on a cold table to be prodded and squeezed and all to get stabbed.”

“Injections aren’t the same as getting stabbed, you big baby” you laughed, as you poked his sides, causing Loki to jump and swat your hand away.

“It’s a sharp metal piercing my skin, isn’t it?” he defended himself as he crossed his arm across his chest. “Call me a baby if you please, but it doesn’t excite me being pierced by your tiny blades.”

“L-Loki… are you afraid of needles?” you asked with an amused smile, he could tell by your tone that you were holding back laughter.

“I am not!” he scoffed.

“Oh! You are!” you smiled immensely.

“Is this funny to you?”

“N-No… Don’t worry, it’s cute. I used to fear needles too, you know, when I was five.” You grinned.

Loki’s ears perked up.

“That was a lie” he smiled cockily.

“What?”

“That’s a lie” he repeated himself. “You either still fear them or just recently stopped doing so.”

“Wha— that’s…” your cheeks turning pink were the last tell.

“God of Lies, don’t bother denying it. I can tell when some lies to me” he grinned triumphantly. “Don’t worry, it’s cute.”

You huffed as you smacked the back of his hand.

“And here I was going to tell you my trick to control my nerves” you huffed.

“Which is…?” Loki asked, partly to tease you, but deep down actually wanting to know.

You shuffled through your bag and pull-out headphones and handed them to him. Loki forced himself to ignore the way your hand brushed against his when you handed them to him.

“Just close your eyes and listen to some music” you smiled, “it helps with a lot of things. But if you need to you can hold my hand and squeeze it if you get scared.”

He smiled at you. “Thank you.”

“Tell you what, if you’re brave, I’ll make sure you have your favorite ice cream for dessert today. How does that sound?” you offered.

“I’m not a child you can’t bribe like that” Loki rolled his eyes, “… Two bowls.”

You nodded and helped him get up and walk to get his check up and vaccine. Given how long he had been in bed, he was still doing some rehab and needed help to walk longer distances.

And he did take your word and held your hand all the time, although he did notice it was you who squeezed his hand when the needle came out. He had even forgotten to put on the headphones by the time the needle was out. And you did keep your word of spoiling him with his favorite ice cream.

“The second bowl is gonna melt, so you might as well eat it with me…” he mumbled between bites.

In a few months Loki was practically fully recovered and soon he was starting his rehab trainings. And of course, he had already picked a sparring partner.

“Do not go easy on me” Loki stated the first time.

“Oh, you like it rough then?” you grinned as you two circled around each other on the sparring mat. “Duly noted.”

He was not one new to flirtatious exchanges. He had been alive for over a millennium, and he had had plenty lovers before. But for some reason your banter made him flustered and tied his tongue into a knot.

“If I wanted it rough, I’d pick literally anyone else, agent” Loki excused himself. “You couldn’t take me if you tried.”

“Couldn’t I?” you grinned, noticing his cheeks flare up.

Damn you, you tenacious and annoyingly perceptive little thing.

“In a fight, you pest” Loki huffed.

“Ah, bummer” you smiled cheekily.

And while it was true that your human strength wasn’t a match for his regular god-like standards, you actually provided an interesting challenge. Besides, he was still recovering so using his full strength wasn’t an option anyway. You were fast, and you jumped around him like a rabbit and landed the softest blows as he spun around you trying to follow or even read your patterns.

“What’s wrong, is the mighty God of Mischief unable to catch up?” you smiled as you poked his ribs lightly before sneaking away.

You didn’t expect Loki to yelp.

“D-Don’t!”

Your face was puzzled for just a second, but as soon as it had happened, you had put two and two together and grinned in an almost cartoonish way.

“I think this training just became more fun” you smile as you poked him again.

“Do not even think about it!” he huffed, as a nervous smile twitched its way into his lips.

“What happened to not go easy on you? I’m just obeying.” you grinned and started chasing him after.

The way you wiggled your fingers with a mischievous in his direction awoke something primally playful. And as a bright smile appeared on his face, he started running away from you.

“You will never catch me!” he called as he ran.

You laughed and ran after him.

He would never admit it out loud, but the way he felt in that moment was rejuvenating, he hadn’t done something so silly and non-transcendent purely for the sake that it was fun. But you were ditching training to chase him around under the threat of tickling him if you caught him. All for the sake of playing with him like a kid despite both of you being young adults. And even more surprising is that Loki found himself eager to play along, even if the idea of getting tickled made him nervous.

Which… eventually did happen, curse his weakened stamina and aching ankle. That day he also learned to fear when you threatened him with tickles, you were devastating when you wanted to be.

“Nohohoho!” he laughed as your fingers dug onto his stomach. “This is ehehehe cruel!”

By the time you had caught up with him you had already reached the living room and he had tumbled onto the couch.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so ticklish!” you giggle, your finger swirling around his navel.

“Ehehehehe! Get away from there!” he laughed.  “Oh Norns! Stop it!”

“C’mon, Loki, you’re a big guy, you can take it!” you giggled and kneaded his belly sides with your fingers with terrifying skill.

But you were kind enough to give him a break.

“Gods abohohohohove, I’m begging you, dove!” he whined. “Don’t torturehehehehe me like this!”

But it somehow served to strengthen your bond. Loki already had a good concept of you, you were a kind and generous person. You were one of the few people he could’ve called a friend. But seeing you weren’t completely disciplined and were willing to break schedule to have mindless fun was relieving. He feared that living in a S.H.I.E.L.D. building would mean they expected him to become a soldier.

So, he started looking for you out of the designated times you had together. He had come to really like to come and annoy you when you were working, playing with your pencils, hiding your stuff, and of course tickling you to distract you when he was craving your attention… which happened pretty often.

“Lohohohoki!” you whined. “I’m wohohorking!”

“I’m not saying you should stop” he grinned as he skittered his fingers along your ribs and sides, just gently scratching over your thin shirt. “Take this as a test of your focus.”

“Nohohohoho, Loki!” you wheezed. “Ihihihit’s so bahahahad! Stohohohop ihihit!”

“Mm~ I’m not sure” he purred in your ear, knowing damn well how much it made you curl up in a ball. “I kinda like hearing the noises you make, they’re… what’s the word? Cute~”

You screeched as you hid your face with your hands, muffling your laughter. Norns, you were so precious. He may have been teasing you when he said you were cute, but he meant it.

You were a lovely company, helping him heal by doing his routines and rehabilitation regimes, while he reviewed the files regarding New Asgard. You massaged his healing ankle while Loki read the documents that were handed to him.

“This is absolutely atrocious!” Loki scoffed smacking the files. “What is this, Infinity Conez? Who approved this? Look at this! Thanos getting the Infinity Stones is a universal tragedy, but to my people more than anyone!”

“Well, that’s why Thor created the New Asgard Council” you reminded him. “He gets help ruling Asgard, and Asgard gets a group of capable people leading them. You have voice and vote.”

“They will hear about this” Loki said firmly. “I will not allow my people to see that when they go to the market! That’s just disrespectful and heartless!”

“I agree with that” you nodded. “I’d be hurt to see something that traumatic turned into an attraction, there must be a better way to make an ice cream store. What about B-Ice Frost?”

“B-Ice Frost?” Loki asked.

“Yeah! A rainbow bridge themed ice cream store that actually gives a nod to your culture” you suggested. “The logo could an ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles.”

“Hmm, I’ll notify that suggestion,” Loki nodded as he wrote it down. “Thank you.”

Months into knowing each other and spending a ridiculous amount of time together, and Loki started noticing how being around you boosted his mood, he couldn’t stop thinking about certain details about you, like the way you played with your hands when you were nervous, or how you scrunched up your nose slightly when you smiled at him, how your eyes sparkled when you were assigned a new project you had been excited for, the butterflies in his belly when you placed your hands on him even to greet him or help him stretch before training. And…

Oh Gods… he was falling in love with you.

For a while he didn’t know what to do with himself. He tried carrying himself normally. But it was overwhelming the way he felt about you, it took one look in your direction, and he felt his heart racing. Trying to avoid you didn’t work either, because his entire being craved being around you, so that didn’t last too long. So, at some point, he stopped fighting it. He knew there was no way a being as good as you would even look in his direction, he was a monster, who had done unforgivable things to your planet.

Surely, your kindness had a limit. Surely, once he was fully healed, you’d forget about him. In fact, Loki feared the day he’d be considered fully recovered and you’d abandon him.

“C’mon, lazybones. We’re late for training” you grinned as you pulled him from the couch.

“I do not feel like training today” Loki yawned as he stretched out his arms to you as an invitation to hug him. “Why don’t we watch a movie? You can choose.”

The way your resolve faltered was beyond endearing. Even if you two weren’t anything, it was common knowledge you were what they called a cuddle bug.

“Loki… it’s important you do your rehab exercises” you said softly.

“I am not in the mood for training” Loki repeated.

“Oh, is that how it is?” you said in a playful yet menacing tone. “I’ll have to persuade you then.”

“What? N-No! D-dohohon’t!” Loki burst out laughing when he felt your fingers over his belly. “Nohohoho! Not thehehehehere!”

“Get up!” you teased him as your fingers pinched the sides of his stomach.

“I don’t wahahahant to!” Loki laughed as he kicked the cushions with his heels. “I’m comfortable hehehehere!”

“It’s important you do your exercises, it’s part of your rehab!” you insisted. “C’mon, doctor’s orders.”

“I dohohohon’t follow a mortal’s— ahaha orders!” he wheezed when you found that damned spot below his navel.

“Then I’m not stopping, you’ll spend the evening as a giggly wiggly worm.”

He had to give you something, you knew exactly how to make him squirm. His hips were bucking trying to stop you and his hands were pushing your wrist, but he wasn’t used to dealing with a normal human’s strength, so he didn’t want to risk hurting you.

“Pleahahahase! Cut it— OW!”

Immediately you jolted and stop everything you were doing, cupping your hands over your mouth and looking at him horrified.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” you asked.

“Yes, I’m quite alright. My back aches… that is all.” He assured you as he sat back up.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful, you’re still recovering.”

“Oh no, the back pain has been with me for quite a few years already” he said, wanting to ease your conscious.

“What…?”

“Well, yes. The Black Order aren’t exactly kind when they force you into their lines.” Loki said simply. “The pain comes back every so often.”

“I’m sorry…” you look at him. “Can I help?”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing you could d—”  

You surprised him by sitting behind him and started rubbing his shoulders, softly at first, feeling him.

“No wonder you are sore, you’re stiff like a board” you said feeling around his spine, soon starting to add more pressure.

He let out a few groans, it hurt a bit at first as you undid the knots of stress of his shoulders. He sighed as he soon felt himself slipping away.

“C’mere” you spoke with utmost softness, as you helped Loki rest on his stomach just to keep massaging his back. “Hehe, you take up most of the couch, I kinda forget how tall you are sometimes.”

“Sorry…” he yawned no even filtering his thoughts.

“It’s okay” you said amusedly, “it’s not a bad thing.”

Your hands rubbed his back with gentle and caring touch. You were so kind and meticulous. Your skill might be up for debate, you were good, but someone much pickier could argue there were professional masseuse that were much better. Perhaps that was true, but no one else had touched him so lovingly, so selflessly. You took your time, and he even noticed every so often you stopped to stretch your fingers that grew tired, but you didn’t complain, you didn’t stop.

He didn’t know when or for how long, but when he woke up you were still massaging your back.

“You snore when you sleep” you spoke in the softest voice, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but you seemed endeared. “Had a nice nap?”

“Probably the best nap I’ve had since I was maybe 150 years old.” He said, letting out a chuckle at your confusion. “I was still a toddler by then.”

“I’m glad… you really seemed like you needed it” you said softly. “Do you feel better?”

He let out a yawn and stretch, rolling over on his back to look at you.

“Much better, thank you” he smiled politely.

“No problem…” you said with a shyness that was unfamiliar for him, he even got to see the pleasure to see a lovely blush adorning your cheeks. “Um… w-well… I’ll go to… you know…”

“Ah, of course…” he muttered as he saw you run off.

He was a little bit disappointed, but he tried not to think too much about your attitude for the sake of his sanity. Of course, he failed. It was the only thing he could think about

It made him build up the courage to go out for town and buy a bouquet. He thought about red roses, but he saw a bouquet of violets and purple sweet peas and white roses, he just knew that was the one.

He even used his phone for a change to ask you to meet him in the compounds garden, he hated using his cellphone. He had asked Banner to let him use his therapy flower greenhouse. He calculated the hour for the prettiest sky colors to ensure a romantic setting for his love declarations.

Minutes earlier his heart was thumping so loud it was drumming in his ears. He felt his mouth dry, and he was sweaty.

“Loki?” he finally heard your voice as you walked in.

“Over here!” he called as he set his bouquet, behind him, barely hiding it behind himself. “H-Hi… Thanks for coming.”

“No problem” you smiled. “I didn’t know you wanted to try Bruce’s gardening therapy. That’s really good.”

“N-No… I— Uh… I just wanted to… have some privacy.”

“Oh?” you asked as you sat behind him.

“I just… wanted to uh, give you this… as a thank you” Loki said, handing you the bouquet. “You’ve been exceedingly kind to me for months, helping me heal, keeping me in check, and that massage the other day… it really helped me feel better.”

“It’s been my pleasure. You’ve been a lovely patient” you said sweetly as you smelled the flowers.

“T-That’s not the only reason why I wanted to… see you here…” Loki barely spoke out, his mouth felt dry, and he felt lightheaded. “You’ve been a delightful company and a wonderful friend… I can’t say that about a lot of people, and probably even less can say the same thing about myself…”

“That’s not true.” You cut him off. “You’re funny, well-mannered, smart, educated, charmingly stubborn, and a stimulating company. There’s not a boring moment with you around.”

Loki’s cheeks flushed at your sweet words, you weren’t even trying to, but his heart fluttered.

“T-That’s why I mean, you are… a— uh… this is ah— not easy to say… but you… um… I appreciate you.”

“I like you too, you’re a lovely friend” you said sweetly.

“N-No… I am not trying to be friendly” Loki said in a quick gasp of courage. “I-I would like to f-formally court you.”

“Court me…?”

“I think here on Midgard it’s addressed as dating…” Loki said, bracing himself for rejection.

“I’d love to.”

“What…?” Loki asked.

“I’d love to go out with you” you said, gently kissing his cheek.

Loki grinned happily.

“Tomorrow at 8?” Loki offered, “I— we could go to a nice restaurant, I’ll take you there. I could ask for a chauffeur to take us… we— we could…”

You surprised him with a little poke on the ribs, that cut him off with the urge to giggle.

“8 is perfect, I’ll drive us to wherever you like” you smiled, “Just pick a restaurant. But, how about tonight I take you for a nice dinner inside and a movie on the lounge room?”

“I’d like that, very much” Loki smiled softly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

He saw you intertwine your fingers with his own, causing him to smile. You lovely thing. It was a lovely sensation. As you pulled him up to his feet, so he’d follow you inside. Which he did with a bright smile.

What a lovely life he had found on Earth.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #lee!loki #ler!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

eddie munson literally waddling when he walks like cmon lil ducky lets get you back to mama

#claire writes #quack quack #lil ducky eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stanger things vol 4

[macfrog]

so torn but i need a little 🩵

feel free to send more than one, baby! here all week 🫶🏼

meeting joel 1.3k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵

“fucking – shit…”

the truck squeals around the corner – the same goddamn corner it squealed around five minutes ago. you pass that same lime green mailbox, those same kids drawing farm animals on the sidewalk.

jesus christ, just admit it. you’re lost.

you did visit the place – though, only the once. and that was a couple months ago, now. you didn’t put a lot of effort into memorizing each street in the fucking neighborhood. did the houses look this similar, the day that you viewed it?

you’re sure you’re circling the same rows of houses over and over; sure you recognize the wind chimes hanging from that porch. you take another left, and –

“for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, pulling in down the street from those same sidewalk chalk artists. their cow drawing has a smug smile on its face.

your eyes roll to the right, and there it is. you probably passed it three times over.

it’s humble, quaint. pretty white wood, a wide-open porch. still some budding flowers left in planters by the door. you blink from the bay window to the numbers nailed squint into the column.

it’s so…grown-up. it almost makes you shiver.

you hop down out of the truck into blazing sunlight, lifting a hand to shield your eyes. a lawnmower hums in the distance, the scent of fresh grass diced through the air. a sprinkler whirs a few houses down. the kids across the street giggle and split the yellow chalk in two.

on one side of your new home – a similarly polite house with a row of vibrant tulips leading up to it. reds and yellows and blushing pinks – clipped and groomed within an inch of their life, each one blooming and beautiful.

on the other – a man, stood in front of a blue house, watering his grass. he’s tall, lean. built wider the higher up his figure your eyes climb. tanned, toned arms and broad shoulders which tug at the white tee he’s wearing. a square jawline beneath a thick brown beard.

you catch his eye and lift your hand to wave.

he turns away, aiming the hose at the grass behind him.

“dick,” you whisper, slamming the door.

you jog around to the back of the truck, taking hold of the sunbaked handle. it chinks, but it doesn’t budge.

“c’mon…” you grit your teeth, rattling it again and again. “are you fucking kidding me?”

you step back, sneakers scuffing on the road, and prop your hands on your hips.

your new neighbor is still focusing intently on his grass, spewing a stream of water at the lighter patches. the longer you stare, the more grass he finds to wet.

fuck it.

“hey!”

he gives the hosepipe a jerk, shaking his free hand dry.

“excuse me?” you call, waving an arm.

the man looks up slowly, checking over his shoulder first. making damn sure there’s no one else he can pretend you’re talking to.

and unless you’re eliciting help from the fucking paw patrol across the street, he’s no escape.

“hey,” again, and then, “i’m new around – i’m moving in next door. i can’t get this stupid fucki–freakin’ door to lift. would you mind helping me? please?”

he twists the hose in his hands. you can’t tell if he’s squinting because of the sun, or actually glowering at you.

it feels like the latter, the way he throws the thing to the grass.

he stalks over, a little intimidating in his stride, eyeing you as he approaches. without a word, he wraps two big hands around the latch. he tugs once, and the door doesn’t move.

“see?” you ask, gesturing to the truck. “i bet it’s, like, older than me. might even be older than you, might…”

your neighbor pauses, eyes sliding to yours. his stare is intense – dark, stormy eyes boring into yours.

and this time – you know he’s glowering.

“it’s the heat,” he drawls, giving it another strong pull. his biceps swell, the tattered sleeves of his t-shirt stretching around them. “it’s just a little st–”

the door suddenly shunts, rolling upwards. a rickety noise until it slams at the top.

the paw patrol glance up at the sound, wrists paused. they resume doodling when your neighbor backs up.

“thank you,” you mutter, tugging on the hem of your shirt.

you push yourself up onto the back of the truck, standing amidst the fractured bones of your old apartment. a shadeless lamp here, a box of kitchen utensils there.

the guy takes half a glance at you and double takes, eyes scanning the sea of cardboard behind you. he looks you up and down and back up again – jaw tightening when he notices your hopeful expression.

“do you mind?” you ask, lifting one of the heavier boxes. “if you got somethin’ better to do…” you glance over to his yard, the hose lying in a swirl on the lawn, “…then i understand.”

he sighs, reaching for the box. his thick arms tense when the weight shifts from your grasp to his.

“thanks!” you deliberately chirp, watching his figure swagger off to your porch.

joel miller, as it turns out, is a man of few fucking words.

his name is the most you’ve been able to get out of him – and that’s only because it’s on his mailbox. he tells you nothing else.

up close, he’s graying. the lines of a decently-aged man on his skin – that, or just a miserable asshole (perhaps both). he has a syrupy southern drawl, each word riding a wave from his tongue – but with each answer he relents, he still manages to sound fucking miserable.

he seems like he might have his uses, though. he’s got some pretty good intel on the neighborhood.

“that,” he nods to the house directly across from yours, “is steve and kris’s place. they just had a baby. some nights, you can hear the kid from over here.”

“congrats,” you mutter, following his hand as it moves across the window.

“diane,” joel says. “she’s got a dog – the thing’s a little shit.”

your chin lifts. “diane, little shit,” you echo.

he nods, tongue in his cheek. he turns, hand flicking in the direction of the tulips. “alice,” he says. “let me tell you somethin’ – if there’s anything you want broadcast to every person, pet, and goddamn mailbox in the neighborhood, she’s the one to talk to.”

“nosy, huh?”

“nosy,” he agrees.

you snicker, leaning by him to glance at the swaying flowers. “but look what good care she takes of her tulips.”

“hm. ‘s all a front, you’ll see. she’s smart with it.”

joel helps you unload the rest of the truck, sliding each box across your living room floor. outside, he passes you the last couple, and then reaches up for the door.

his tee lifts ever so slightly – flashing a sliver of skin with a smatter of hair above his belt buckle. a dark trail diving into his jeans.

the sight sears itself behind your eyelids. you drag your gaze from him, bending to scoop up the lighter of the two boxes as he jumps back down. he follows at your heel towards your house again, dropping the last box right by your front door.

he says, “you need anythin’ else, just give me a holler,” but his dry tone – and the fact he’s already halfway out the door when he mumbles it – are enough to convince you that this motherfucker never wants to see your face again.

so – you skip after him, following him to your porch steps.

“nice,” you call, watching him thud down each one, “you any good with diy? i got a shit ton of ikea stuff to build.”

he turns, bottom lip between his teeth.

your eyebrows lift, heel kicking against the wooden step. “a – shit – ton,” you repeat.

joel scoffs, shaking his head. “better get to it, then.”

he wanders back over to his lawn.

#me: a -short- drabble #also me: writes over a thousand words #duckie's baby shower #🩵

[harringtonisms]

people like us

pairing: steve harrington / eddie munson summary: Five times Amanda Driscoll hears about Mr. Harrington’s wife and the One time she realizes it’s his husband. warnings: some angst in #4 and a slight coming out (to herself) arc, hinted at homophobia (nothing explicit) word count: 7.5k a/n: (10/18/2023): a little after a year from the original post date, i decided to go back and edit it. it's still the same story any rereaders know, but all the little plot holes and issues have been fixed and there's 200 more words to read! thank you for reading <3

(og note): this is based off of this post i made! i will be doing a second part to this that follows eddie's bandmates and meeting steve! i hope you enjoy and any feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, ask, are all appreciated!

Read it on AO3

taglist: @zed-zeppeli @valenschmidt @expectocrucio @rel312 @jonathanbyersbbg @beeing-stuupid @ataztuv @noahzanehethey @ludabug @mavernanche @casualherolightbailiff @purplebellybell @phenomenal-bird @persephone13 @gleefully-macabre @darkqloszed @the-baby-goblin @aryanightshade @jojobeaner @specialagentslut-24 @goodomensgurl

1.  Monday, August 21st, 1995

Amanda was not one to be late, especially on the first day of school. Her steps echoed in the empty hallway as she rushed to her first period class. In one hand she held a tardy slip. In the other was a ripped piece of notebook paper detailing her homeroom class in smudged blue ink. 

Mr. Harrington

 U.S. History

Room 114

Having lived in Hawkins her whole life, she’d been attending the same middle school her older sister and both parents attended. This made her rather familiar with the staff at Hawkins Middle and yet she hadn’t recognized Mr. Harrington’s name. Reaching her classroom, she grabbed the handle and pushed it open. 

All the desks were arranged in groups of four and there were four groups. Hanging from the ceiling, were pieces of laminated paper designating each desk group a number. The walls were covered in different iconic historical quotes, maps of the worlds, and black and white photos of people Amanda assumed were important. On her teacher’s desk was a small globe, a pencil cup, and a clay pot full of various origamis. Her teacher was leaning against his desk, in the middle of a speech when he was interrupted by the squeak of the door being opened. All eyes landed on Amanda and she squirmed under her peers' watchful gaze. She walked shyly over to Mr. Harrington and handed him her pass. 

“Ah, Amanda! Welcome to U.S. History. Uh, here! Grab a syllabus and there’s a free seat at table two! I’m just telling the class a bit about myself.” He smiled politely at her, and motioned toward table two. At table two, Mary and Lj were sitting on the same side, facing the windows, so Amanda chose the seat across from Lj. She quietly sat her stuff down and paid attention to what her teacher was saying. 

“Like I was saying, I was born and raised in Hawkins. I walked these very same halls you did once before! It’s actually where I met my current partner, I just didn’t know it at the time. I started at Ivy Tech college before I transferred to Indiana State Teachers College to get my degree. I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years and taught at the local high school, before we moved back this past summer to take care of their dad and here we are! I’m also the coach for the basketball team so information about try-outs will go up soon. Now, enough about me. If you’d take a look at your syllabus…”

Mr. Harrington’s voice faded into ambient noise in the background as she looked around her classroom. He’d met his wife right here in this building, and he didn’t even know it at the time. The person Amanda would marry could be sitting right in front of her and she’d never know until she was finally with them. She glanced around and her eyes landed on Louise-Jane Brooks, or Lj as she was typically called. Amanda immediately looked away, a fierce blush painting her cheeks the same color as her hair. That happened almost every time she looked at Lj. How weird is it that someone she’s known since kindergarten made her so nervous? The sun fitted itself through the blinds behind Amanda and illuminated Lj, like she had her own personal spotlight shining down on her. Brown skin, long braids, deep dark eyes turned to honey, and freckles left over from summer time glittered underneath the light and it stirred up something within Amanda that her mind had trouble reconciling with.

“Any questions?” Mr. Harrington’s voice cut through the Lj related fog in Amanda’s mind and her hand immediately shot up.

“You said you met your wife in middle school. How did you know she was the one?” Amanda forced her eyes to stay on Mr. Harrington despite the strange urge to look back at Lj. 

“Well I didn’t know I’d marry them in middle school. I didn’t know that I’d marry them until way after college. We met in middle school. We were desk partners in our science class and they taught me how to make origami out of our homework sheets.” He picked up the little clay pot on his desk and pulled out what looked like a pencil. “They made me this little pencil for my first day teaching here.” He returned the origami pencil and the clay pot back to their spot on his desk and looked back out toward his students. “Are there any other questions?...No? Alright we’re gonna head down to the library and grab your textbooks so line up!” 

A symphony of chairs screeching against the ground and whispering voices erupted as the students lined up by the door. Much to the delight of Amanda, Lj ended up in front of her. Lj was wearing a baby pink dress with white polka dots and white flats. Amanda tapped Lj’s shoulder and waited for her to turn. She turned and Amanda had to ignore the warmth in her cheeks as she spoke.

“I like your dress!” Lj’s smile grew in response to Amanda’s compliment.

“Thank you, Amy. It has pockets!” and she stuck her hands into the pockets of the dress to show them to Amanda. Amanda went to say something but the line had started to move so she kept her response to herself. 

2. Friday, September 15th, 1995

In the weeks that passed, Amanda found herself looking forward to her first period class more and more. Mr. Harrington made learning about history much more fun than her previous teachers had. Though they had to check out the textbooks in the library provided by the state, Mr. Harrington told them to stack them along the window sill and they sat there everyday, untouched. In class, he told them the real history and explained what actually happened, what the textbooks glossed over or lied about. Instead of reading page after page in their textbooks they got to do fun projects creating poster boards, making dioramas, and even creating their own political cartoons. 

Amanda has also been early everyday. She was sitting in her regular seat waiting for class to start, when two boys walked in, talking excitedly about some band she’d never heard of. 

“Did you hear about the first Corroded Coffin show last night in Indianapolis? Apparently people were camping outside the venue for 2 nights to try and score tickets! I want to see them on tour so bad!” Mr. Harrington peaked his head up from the paper he was writing on and joined the boys’ conversation. 

“You guys like Corroded Coffin? I know those guys, we all went to high school together.” Mr. Harrington said. He looked off to the side, brows furrowed as he thought about something. “Maybe I can ask them to come for career day in October?”

The two boys gasped excitedly and started asking their teachers questions about the band and how he met them. Mary, who sat diagonally across from Amanda, sighed. Amanda watched, Mary, who had her head in her hands, gazing dreamily at Mr. Harrington. 

“Isn’t he just so handsome, Amanda?” Mary said, turning to look at her. Amanda wrinkled her nose in response. Sure, Mr. Harrington wasn’t ugly but she couldn’t see what it was about him that made all the girls trip over themselves. No matter if they were in the cafeteria during lunch or in the library for study hall, she was subject to hearing theories of what Mr. Harrington’s wife looked like, and whispers of ‘She’s so lucky’. Amanda didn’t get any of it. Still, she wanted to fit in, so she pretended. He wore the same style glasses that she did, so at least she could compliment him without lying. To herself or her classmates.

“Um, I like his glasses.” She replied. Avoiding Mary’s piercing gaze, she decided pulling her pencil bag out was a smart move. 

“I don’t know, Amy,” Lj said, looking up from her book. “I think Miss. Rosario is prettier than Mr. Harrington. She would never come to school with her shirt so wrinkled.” Lj glanced at Mr. Harrington once more before going back to her book. Mary flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, before she raised her hand. Next to her, Amanda’s eyes were glued to Lj. Miss Rosario was pretty. Super pretty. If everyone was talking about that, she’d understand one hundred percent. She forced herself to look away when Mr. Harrington started speaking. 

“Yes, Mary?” 

“You don’t normally come to school with your shirt so wrinkled. Why today?” She asked. Mr. Harrington looked down at his shirt and inspected the wrinkles and huffed. He was wearing a plain blue and white striped polo, and jeans since it was a friday. 

“Thank you…for pointing that out, Mary. For your information, normally my partner irons my shirts every morning while I make breakfast, but they’ll be away for the next month on a work trip, and I was in a rush and forgot to do it.” He walked back around behind his desk and grabbed the hawkins middle hoodie that was hanging on the back of his desk chair and put it on. “There, Now no one can see the wrinkles.” He raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘is this okay’ and Mary nodded as she giggled

“Why does your wife always iron your shirts? Why don’t you iron your own shirts and she makes breakfast?” Janet asked. 

“Well, Janet, if you must know, they like to pick out my clothes, and I’m the only one who can cook so it just works out.” Mr. Harrington replied. A few awws came from the crowd and he waved them away. “Yes, it’s all very sweet and domestic and all that jazz. Now, who can tell me where we left off yesterday.” 

 3. Tuesday, October 3rd, 1995

“Yo, Mr. H, what’s that thing on your nose?” It was right before class began, and Mr. Harrington had just turned around from writing their new essay prompt on the board. Right in the center of his face was a scratch, from the bridge of his nose to underneath his eye. Amanda was by the door, sharpening her pencil for the lesson.

“Well Good Morning to you too, Gerald. That thing on my nose is a scratch. My partner came home for the weekend and we ended up adopting some kittens last night. Three of them actually, so in the whole mess of transporting 3 kittens back to our home…” He gestured to his face and then shrugged. 

“What did you name the kittens?” A voice said from the back. 

“Sabbath, Kirk, and Abba.” His lips pursed, as if he was trying to suppress his smile. 

“Why those names?” Amanda asked before she could stop herself. She recognized Abba because her older sister was always blasting it through her walkman, but the other two names were unfamiliar. She assumed they probably also had to do with music but she wasn't sure what they were references to. 

“Well Sabbath and Kirk are nods to my partners favorite bands. The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’.” Mr. Harrington had an exasperated look on his face, but you could hear the fondness in his voice as he talked about his partner. He glanced over at his origami pot, which Amanda noted now had a black cat added to it. She spun to walk back to her desk with her newly sharpened pencils when Lj walked into class, beating the bell by a few seconds and immediately caught Amanda’s attention.

“Woah, Amy! You wore your hair down today?” Lj said, and stopped when she saw the redhead by the door. Amanda typically kept her hair in a ponytail and her bangs neatly trimmed just above her eyebrows to keep her curls from falling into her face while she worked. Today though, she had a black and white striped headband settled behind her bangs, the rest of her curly hair falling down to her shoulders. “I really like it like this. You look extra pretty.” Lj offered her a small smile and made her way to her seat. Amanda's hand flew to her hair and her jaw fell open a bit, eyes tracking Lj’s movements as she walked away. 

Lj thought she was extra pretty with her hair down. Extra. Like she always thought Amanda was pretty, but with her hair down…she was more, pretty. Additionally pretty. Especially pretty. Her gaze slowly left Lj and landed on Mr. Harrington who was watching her with an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite place. He shook his head in amusement and then pointed to her desk with his chin. It took her feet a few seconds to catch up with her brain and move, but she made it to her seat. As she sat down, Gerald called out to her teacher.

“Wait Mr. H, I’m confused. Why did y’all get 3 kitties in the first place?” Mr. Harrington sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing when he made contact with the scratch. 

“We couldn’t separate the siblings. Or, my partner didn’t want to separate them and…who am I to stop them. So we got three kittens.” His eyes widened like he still couldn’t believe it. 

“Will you bring them in so we can meet them?” Kendra asked hopefully. Amanda knew she wanted to be a veterinarian so it made sense that she’d ask. That was the cool thing about going to school with the same kids all her life. She knew so many little things about them and what their aspirations were. Gerald was out of this world smart so he’d decided he would either be a lawyer or a doctor, whichever paid more. Mary wanted to be a famous actress, Janet loved science, and Lj was a writer like no other. 

Amanda imagined hanging out with Lj in the future. Lj as a world famous journalist for the New York Times and Amanda working somewhere with numbers. They would both live in New York because Lj would want a friend there and they’ll live in the same apartment to save money and they’ll share a room because what if it’s lonely and she’ll get to wake up to Lj and fall asleep with Lj and grocery shop with Lj and

Amanda sat up straighter in her seat and shook her head as if to shake those thoughts out of her mind. She reminded herself to leave those types of thoughts to when she was alone and tuned back into the ongoing conversation.

“Sorry Kendra, can’t do that. I have a kid in my third and seventh period classes with allergies to fur.”

“What if your wife brings them, and then after this class period, she takes them back home?” Someone else suggested. Mr. Harrington chuckled to himself and dropped his head, letting it hang for a moment.

“That won’t be possible, they’re on a work trip, remember. Maybe I’ll bring a picture in so you all can see.” He offered, looking around to see if that would appease his students. 

“But we want to see your wife! You’re always talking about her!” That comment came from Mary. Mr. Harrington laughed again and Amanda wondered what was so funny. 

“Ok ok, I see what’s going on here. You’re trying to get me to talk about my personal life so we don’t start those essays today huh? Unluckily for you, I was a student once so I know all your tricks! Come on, let’s get class started.” A few tried to protest, but eventually they grabbed their notebooks and flipped to fresh pages. 

As Amanda worked, her hair continued to fall into her face. She resisted the urge to tie it back into its signature ponytail, instead opting to tuck her hair behind her ear constantly. Louise-Jane Brooks thinks Amanda Driscoll is extra pretty with her hair down and Amanda decided it was normal to want another girl to think she’s pretty, so she kept her hair down.

 4. Friday, October 13th, 1995

“Mr. Harrington, what was high school like for you?” 

That day, the eighth grade class had a field trip to the high school now that their first marking period was nearly over. The class was pretty chatty now that they were back in their classroom waiting for the dismissal bell to ring. They were all standing around Mr. Harrington’s desk, a few sitting on the student desks behind them. They quieted down when they heard the question asked. 

“I was pretty popular in high school, was co-captain of the swim team, fought some monsters, skipped prom, then I graduated and met the love of my life.” Mr. Harrington was staring upwards, like he was checking off an imaginary list in his mind. Immediately, a gaggle of questions were shouted out at him. His eyes widened in shock and he put his hands up in surrender. “Woahhh guys, one a time, let me see some hands. McKenzie, what’s your question?”

“I thought you met your wife in middle school?” A few ‘yeah’s came from the group as they recalled what Mr. Harrington told them on the first day of class. 

“That is technically right. I did meet them in middle school and we were friends for that science class we shared. Then we drifted apart until after I graduated. We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school and ever since then it’s been me and them.”

“What do you mean by fighting monsters?” Another person asked. Mr. Harrington only shrugged. His arms, which were hanging down by his sides, wrapped around his stomach. “Whatever you think it means, Kevin.”

“He’s probably talking about some game or movie,” Someone commented from the back of the group to their friend. Mr. Harrington didn’t acknowledge them, only staring out the window. The kids begin to break off into separate conversation when the bell rings to dismiss for the day. 

“Hey Amy,” Lj said, approaching her as the crowd started to disperse and leave Amanda, Lj, and their teacher behind. Mr. Harrington yelled out a ‘See you tomorrow and made good decisions!’ as he sat back behind his desk. The two girls were standing in the aisle between table one and table two, a few feet from the front of Mr. Harrington’s desk. She noticed her teacher start to look for something on his desk. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here, normally you're first out the door.” She commented. Amanda smiled at the thought of Lj paying that much attention to her.

“I have Chess Club afterschool today so my mom will get me at four. I don’t have to catch the bus.” Lj hummed in acknowledgement before speaking again.

“So…I just moved to a new house, and I finally finished decorating my room. If it’s okay with your mom, my mom said I could invite people over now.” Lj had a delicate smile on her face as her fingers played with the hem of her t-shirt before being stuffed into the pockets of her jeans.

“Um, yeah of course! I’d love to! How do I tell you if my mom said it’s ok?” Amanda said, smiling so widely she knew her cheeks would ache later. 

“Uhhhh,” Lj looked around, before taking a few steps and grabbing a marker out of Mr. Harrington’s pencil cup. Amanda trailed behind her. Lj grabbed Amanda’s arm and wrote down a series of numbers on her forearm. Amanda could see that Mr. Harrington was now fumbling for something within his desk. Lj let her hand fall from Amanda’s forearms to her hand. 

“There. That’s my home phone number, just call me when you ask your mom! I hope she says yes. I got this jewelry making kit so we can like, make bracelets and stuff! Bye, Amy! Call me! Even if you can't come over!” Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and walking out the classroom. 

Amanda was rooted in her spot, the path LJ’s fingers took burned into her skin. Having feelings for Lj had gone from manageable to completely unbearable from that one interaction. How was she supposed to walk around everyday not aching to touch her again? To feel the weight of Lj’s hand in hers and have her small, kind, infectious smile directed at Amanda. Her fingers traced the numbers on her arm as she reimagined her Saturday plans. She was shaken from her daydream when a throat cleared. Her head snapped to the source of the noise, and she met eyes with Mr. Harrington. Realizing he watched that entire interaction, her smile dropped. She knew exactly what he was thinking. It was the same things her parents whispered in the kitchen when they thought she was asleep in the living room.

“That wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t have a crush on Lj.” Mr. Harrington only raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. 

“I…I didn’t say you did.” He replied. 

Amanda’s cheeks burned a deep red as she realized he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. She assumed she knew what he was thinking and just dug herself into a hole. She looked away embarrassed, feeling the burn of restrained tears behind her eyes. She’d just come to terms herself with what those feelings inside her meant. She wasn’t ready to deal with what it meant to openly like girls. But now she’d have to, Mr. Harrington was going to tell her mom. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” She whispered, looking away when a few tears fell. Mr. Harrington’s eyes widened in shock. He jumped up from his desk, walked around to the front, and kneeled in front of Amanda.

“Hey, hey, hey don't cry. I won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want me to. There’s nothing for me to tell, Amanda. Promise.” He reassured, his hands flailing about in front of him as he spoke. He offered a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before shifting to sit criss-cross in front of his desk, using it to lean on. 

Amanda watched Mr. Harrington as he sat on the floor and made himself comfortable. He looked up at Amanda and patted the spot next to him. She sat down with him, legs stretched into the aisle in front of them and her back pressed up against Mr. Harrington’s desk. She took her glasses off and wiped her eyes, and Mr. Harrington pushed his glasses into his hair and began to speak. 

“If I may ask, what is it… that I'm not telling?” He asked, voice gentle. 

“I don’t think you’d understand.” She said, voice shaky with unshed tears. 

“Maybe…maybe not. But you never know unless you tell me. If you want to, of course.” He said as he watched Amanda carefully.

“How do you feel about your wife?” She asked him, finger aimlessly prodding at the linoleum floors. 

“My partner is the best gift that I could have ever been given. They’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The kindest, most compassionate, and genuine person I know. And they’re hilarious, they make me laugh like never before. I used to dread going home, but now that they’re there, I can’t wait to get back to them everyday. Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them. They are the center of my universe and every planet surrounding it.” 

The two sat in silence for a moment after. Amanda wondered what it would be like to love a girl so fully. To love a girl so much that her mere presence made the stars shine brighter and air seem crisper. To love a girl, and be free to tell anyone who asked. 

“I want,” she started. “I want to be allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Amanda nearly whispered the end of her sentence, the force of hearing her voice admit that out loud for the first time knocked the air out of her.

“You are allowed to feel that way about a girl.” Mr. Harrington said, shifting to face Amanda better. She turned to look at him, red rimmed eyes meeting earnest ones. “My best friend and her wife moved to San Francisco so that they could. They’re much more open minded out there. When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us out there way more than you did here in Hawkins.” Amanda’s brows knitted in confusion. 

“People like us?” She asked. Mr. Harrington nodded. 

“People like us,” He confirmed. Amanda let the weight of both their confessions settle in the air. Other people felt this way. Mr. Harrington did. And so did his best friend and her wife. And the people in San Francisco and in Chicago. She wasn’t the only person who felt. Amanda let her worries be temporarily soothed by the comfort of knowing she wasn’t a freak or a mistake. She wiped her eyes again, put her glasses back on, and pushed herself off the floor. She looked up at the clock which read 3:12. Chess Club started in three minutes. 

“I have to go, I don’t want to be late…but thank you, Mr. Harrington.” Amanda said, voice quiet. 

“Anytime, Amanda. My door is always open.” And she didn’t doubt that. Not many people in Hawkins knew how she felt, but Mr. Harrington did and that was more than she thought. 

 5. Monday, October 15th, 1995

When Amanda walked into her homeroom class the following day, the first thing she noticed was the new poster up by the chalkboard. It was a plain beige rectangle with rainbow patterned letters, spelling out “YOU ARE SAFE HERE.” Amanda’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes immediately searched for Mr. Harrington, but he was busy talking to one of her classmates. She walked to her seat, reveling in the warmth that grew in her chest from how nice it was to be cared for like this.

As Amanda placed her arm on her desk, she felt the delicious bite of the gems on her bracelet sink into the skin of her wrist. She lifted her wrist to inspect the new jewelry she made with Lj. There were pink, orange, and red beads patterned on her bracelet, while Lj’s had a pink, blue, and purple pattern. Both bracelets however, had “LJ&AMY”. Her right hand came up and she ran her fingers over the beads, and smiled fondly as she remembered her weekend with Lj. Memories of bracelet making, pizza, karaoke, and sharing a banana split sundae filled her mind. Amanda looked ahead of her and saw that Lj was already staring at her. She smiled at her and waved shyly. Lj giggled and waved back. 

“I like your bracelet,” She said, smiling back at Amanda. Amanda stuck her hand wrist out proudly to show off the bracelet Lj helped her make. 

“Why thank you, it’s custom made, one of a kind,” She laughed again, but was interrupted by one of her classmates yelling over the chatter in the classroom. 

“How was your weekend, Mr. H,” Gerald asked. 

“It was pretty good. I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner and they had a picnic set up. It was very sweet. They even made me a flower crown by hand. We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.” He responded.

“Wow, Mr. H, your wife sounds mad sweet.” Gerald responded, his fingers absentmindedly twirling one of his locs. 

“Right,” Kendra piped in from the back corner. “Everytime you say something about her it’s always something so gentle. Like she taught you how to make origami, and she irons your clothes, made you adopt all those cats, now a picnic at Lovers’ Lake and a handmade flower crown? She’s like, the sweetest woman in the world.” Kendra said, recalling all the kind things Mr. Harrington’s partner did for him.

“I wish you guys paid this much attention to what I say when i’m teaching, how did you even remember all of that?” Kendra only shrugs and Mr. Harrington sighs. “Anyways, what about you guys, what did you get up to this weekend?” Immediately Lj’s hand went up and Mr. Harrington called on her. She reached her hand out to Amanda, who immediately clasped her fingers around Lj’s.

“Well Amy came over to my house and we did a bunch of fun stuff like go to the mall and get pizza, but we also made these matching bracelets.” Lj then stuck their conjoined hands in the air so their classmates could see the bracelets, even if it was a bit awkward with all that space between the two girls. 

Amanda’s grin grew impossibly bigger and she looked at Mr. Harrington who raised his brows in pleasant surprise.

“That’s very nice girls, my partner and my best friend have a matching pair of purple converse that they decorated together actually. Janet, what about you? How was your weekend?” Mr. Harrington went on, letting his students tell him all about their weekend before they started class. Amanda couldn’t pay much attention to what her classmates were saying though, savoring every second Lj kept her in hand in Amanda’s.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird how Mr. Harrington never just says ‘my wife’?” Mary whispered to her tablemates. Amanda froze for a moment, considering Mary’s words. Lj squeezed Amanda’s hand before letting go and picking up her pencil to take notes since Mr. Harrington was now starting the lesson. Amanda didn’t follow her lead. Instead, she ran back every time Mr. Harrington brought up his wife. 

“Then I lived in Chicago with my spouse for a few years…”

“...normally my partner irons my shirts every morning…”

“Everything leads back to them, and I’m never not thinking about them, or missing them, or loving them.”

Why didn’t Mr. Harrington just say ‘my wife’ instead of ‘my partner’? Why did he always say ‘they’ instead of ‘she’? Amanda’s mind reminded her of their conversation afterschool on friday. 

“When I lived in Chicago, you heard about people like us way more than here in Hawkins.”

People like…us. 

Her eyes darted to the new poster hanging up in their class. You are safe here. Her eyes drifted to Mr. Harrington as the realization dawned on her. Why Mr. Harrington was so specific about how he referred to his partner. Why he didn’t have a picture of them on his desk like her other teachers do. 

Mr. Harrington…doesn’t have a wife. He has a husband.

 +1. Tuesday, October 16th, 1995

It was career fair day so after lunch instead of heading to her algebra class, Amanda met up with Lj in front of the gym to browse all the different jobs that came to present that day. She almost tripped over her feet in excitement once she spotted Lj. She quickened her pace, nearly running over one of the 6th graders. The two girls embraced before linking arms as they walked into the gym together. 

They stopped by the doctor table and the accounting table, and ran past the construction table giggling. They visited the journalism table so Lj could talk with the woman there. She had a short, curly bob and a name tag that read “Miss Wheeler”. Amanda looked around and spotted Mr. Harrington toward the back of the fair talking with another man with unruly, curly hair. The long haired man smiled at Mr. Harrington and knocked the educators shoulder with his own. 

Amanda told Lj she would be right back and headed in their direction. Upon arriving, Mr. Harrington’s friend stepped away from him and approached Amanda. He was wearing a t-shirt that said “The Devil Was Once an Angel” and ripped black jeans. He had many rings on his fingers and various chains hanging off his belt loops. He had multiple tattoos all along his arms and stuck to the front of his chest was a name tag that read “Mr. Munson”.

Looking at his display, she saw a speaker, quietly playing metal music and a black and red electric guitar on a stand next to it. There were pictures of the long haired man on stage with 3 other guys and a notebook open with what looked like song lyrics. Next to the notebook, there were some tickets for a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’. Amanda racked her memory trying to remember why the name sounded familiar. 

“Amanda!” Mr. Harrington greeted. He turned and faced Mr. Munson. “Mr. Munson, this is that student I told you about. Amanda, this is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist, lead vocals, and songwriter for his band.” Mr. Harrington looked at Eddie proudly, and placed a hand on each shoulder, in a weird sort of side hug.

“Thank you for that lovely introduction, Mr. Harrington,” Mr. Munson said, grinning widely. He then turned to Amanda. “What kind of music do you listen to, Red?” He had his hands clasped together, his two pointer fingers pressed against his lips. 

“Uhh, I guess I listen to a lot of pop music. My older sister introduced me to someone called Madonna? I mainly listen to my sister's old tapes so whatever she has,” Amanda responded. 

Mr. Munson gasped, dramatically clutching his hand to his chest where his heart would be. 

“Oh you poor thing! You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” She giggled and Mr. Munson smiled at her in a way where she knew he was only teasing. Amanda could see Mr. Harrington roll his eyes but smile, as Mr. Munson grabbed the speaker that was on his table. He pulled it closer to the front of the table so she could hear the music playing better. Mr. Munson looked around quickly before whispering to Amanda. “You won’t tell anyone if this song says any bad words will you,” His questioning gaze turned into a devilish grin when Amanda smiled and shook her head. “I knew there was a reason you were his favorite” Her feet tapped in excitement as she glanced quickly to her teacher. 

Mr. Munson turns the music up slightly and lets the heavy bass and electric guitar fill the air around them. 

“That is my band's latest single, ‘Trials’. It’s about some stuff that your teacher and I went through back in high school.” He said.

“You guys knew each other in high school?” Amanda asked, bewildered. How did her polo-wearing, mr. popular, not a hair out of place history teacher become friends with a man so completely different from him?

“Well we knew of each other in high school, we were friends in middle school for a little while. We reconnected around this time of my senior year. 1986, can you believe that was 10 years ago, Stevie?” Where had she heard that before? Where did she know this man from? She can’t recall ever seeing him before, so why do his words sound so familiar? Amanda pushed those questions out of her head, and instead decided to ask him questions about his work since that is what he was there for.  

“Do all the inspirations for your songs come from your life? How do you not run out of things to write about?” Amanda asked. 

“What a wonderful question, Red. I do get a lot of inspiration from my real life. Take this weekend for example, Me and Mr. Harrington—or Mr.Harrington and I, Miss O’Donnell would kill me if she heard me say that.” Mr. Munson said that last part to Mr. Harrington before he turned back to Amanda. “Like I was saying, Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends. I got some inspiration from that experience to write about reminiscing on good times. The song that just played for you right now, is also about the past but it’s about how the past changes us today. So while I may use the same base for songs,...” 

Amanda started to lose focus as Mr. Munson explained his songwriting process. Mr. Harrington also said he was at Lovers’ Lake with his partner and that he met up with old friends this weekend. She understood them hanging out as old friends, they knew each other since middle school apparently. But how could Mr. Munson have been at Lovers’ Lake too? 

Amanda looks at Mr. Harrington, opening her mouth to ask a question when she stops herself. Mr. Harrington. That’s who she’s heard this from before. She looked back at the tickets on the table. “Corroded Coffin” She realizes that’s the band he was talking about that one day. She runs her entire conversation with Mr. Munson back in her mind matching it to the things she heard Mr. Harrington say in class. 

‘’The last cat was named Abba because I occasionally play them and my partner loves to tease me for it. Says I need to be introduced to ‘real music’”

“You’re a lost little sheep, just like Stevie here. He only listens to whatever’s on the top 40. AKA, Not. Real. Music.” 

“We reconnected during the whole fighting monsters thing after high school.”

“We reconnected around this time of my senior year.”

“Stevie and I went out to the lake and afterwards we got to meet up with some of our old friends.”

“I went down to Lovers Lake with my partner…We also saw some of our friends from back in the day.”

Amanda looked away from the table, looking between both Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington was watching Mr. Munson as he explained something Amanda wasn't paying much attention to with rapt fascination. His eyes were soft and his smile was adoring. His arms were crossed casually across his chest and he leaned slightly toward Mr. Munson, like the musician had a magnetic pull on him. 

Like Mr. Munson was the center of his universe. 

Amanda gasped loudly, effectively cutting off Mr. Munson’s spiel and drawing attention from a few of the neighboring tables. They all turned away when Amanda’s face broke into a wide grin, assuming her gasp was from excitement. Both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson were staring at Amanda with confusion on their faces. 

“Are you…okay, Red?” Mr. Munson asked as he stepped backwards to inspect Amanda, consequently getting into Mr. Harrington’s personal space. Her history teacher didn’t budge when there were only a mere few inches separating them. She peeked around them, searching for Lj and finding her talking to Gerald in front of the lawyers table. She turned back to the two men in front of her and kept her voice low when she spoke. 

“Mr. Harrington doesn’t have a wife,” She paused for dramatic effect, something she learned from Mary, and let the two men share a glance before looking back to her. “He has a husband.” She clapped her hands, excited by her discovery. It all made sense now. Realization washed over both Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson. They looked at each other, Mr. Munson pursing his lips to suppress a smile and Mr. Harrington with both hands on his hips and an exasperated look on his face.

“How did you piece that together from my presentation?” Mr. Munson asked, head tilted in amusement.

“It wasn’t your presentation, it was the stuff you said before you started talking about the music. Mr. Harrington talks about you all the time in class. The stuff you said right now matched up to what Mr. Harrington said before and all the signs, the poster, ‘People like us...It just clicked right now. What all that meant.” Amanda said, hands waving wildly in front of her. They froze mid-air when another realization washed over her. Her eyebrows knit up in confusion as she looked Mr. Munson over once more. 

“You…with the tattoos, and the rings, and the chains, and the all black clothes…adopted three kittens? And you iron Mr. Harrington’s clothes every morning? And planned a picnic out on Lovers’ Lake? You taught Mr. Munson to make little origamis? Made him a flower crown? That was you? But you look so…” Amanda paused looking for the words. Mr. Munson glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Harrington with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “You look so, not the type.”

“I told you all those years ago, Stevie. Forced conformity. It’s killing the kids.” He turned back to Amanda. “It’s 1995 Little Red, people are so much more than their stereotypes.” 

Amanda stared at Mr. Munson, soaking in all the new information, when another question popped in her mind. 

“Wait. If you’re both boys, how did you get married?” She kept her voice low, so the other tables wouldn’t over hear her. Mr. Munson crouched down to Amanda’s level. 

“Well, to the government, marriage is a piece of paper saying ‘This is who I chose!’. And tax benefits. We didn't need a piece of paper and a big fancy party, though we did have one, to say that we chose each other for life. I love him. And the government doesn’t get to tell me if that’s okay or not, it is okay.” Mr. Munson then looked up at Mr. Harrington from his spot on the floor. They shared a look, one that said a million more words than they’d be allowed in such a public place.

Amanda looked away from them, the connection between the two becoming almost suffocating. It was so surreal to be standing in front of two people who understood what she was going through. They went through it already and came out the other end. They were living breathing proof that it’s not always this hard, and it’s not always this confusing. That one day you’ll be able to wake up every morning next to the love of your life, no matter their gender. You’ll get to visit your favorite spots from your childhood as you grow old together. That we get a fancy wedding and the promise to be together forever too. They were proof that our fate isn’t subject to becoming a forgotten name in the newspaper for a case the police won’t try to solve. People like us, get to have our happily ever after, and Amanda was looking right at one. She couldn’t quite put into words what that meant to her.

On top of that, Mr. Munson wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Besides the fact that she was expecting a woman up until yesterday, he wasn’t anything like she expected for someone who presented themself like he did. He was kind and gentle while being loud and dramatic. He picked flowers for his husband with the same hands he used to shred electric guitar. He was unapologetically himself, even if that confused some people. Amanda looked forward to the day she could say the same about herself.

Mr. Harrington offered Mr. Munson a hand, and helped him off the floor when Lj approached the table. 

“There you are Amy, I was wondering where you went,” Lj immediately reached for Amanda’s hand and interlocked their fingers, like she couldn't go another second without touching Amanda. Mr. Munson offered a small, knowing smile.  “Are you done here? I heard the veterinary table is giving out cookies shaped like dinosaurs!” 

Amanda looked away from Lj and back up at Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington. 

“After the promotion ceremony, and we’re officially high schoolers…am I still allowed to come back and say hi?” Amanda asked. Sure, it was only October but Mr. Harrington had already changed her life in such an irrevocable way. When she gets her first girlfriend or when she moves away to find people who are like her, it’ll be because Mr. Harrington was the first person who told her that it was okay and that she wasn’t alone.

“Of course, Amanda. Come back anytime! I’d love to hear about how high school goes for you. Even beyond that!” Mr. Harrington said. They shared a smile, and she let Lj pull her away. 

“So you talk about me in class all the time, huh?” Mr. Munson teased as Amanda walked away.

“Go back on tour,” was her teacher's reply.

—

I don't know if i really have the words to explain what this fic means to me and how cathartic it was to write. Thank you for reading <3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steddie stranger things #st #plu #100 #1k #oc #ducky writes

[duck-at-midnight]

Finishing

Pairing: Lorraine Day (g!p) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, G!P Lorraine, Sub Lorraine, Mommy kink, Chastity, Ball Gag, Rope

Summary: You and Lorraine have been trying to have a baby, but your attempts have yet to produced an offspring. The doctor has given you recommendations to help your efforts.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Lainey. The doctor said that it would have higher chances of getting me pregnant.” Y/N said with a frustrated sigh. “Don’t you like the idea of having your way with me? Payback for everything I’ve done to you?”

She shook her head. “I enjoy that, you wouldn’t.” 

“What makes you so sure of that?” 

“We’ve been together for five years. I’m sure I would’ve noticed by now.”

You grab your wife’s face in your hands, softly stroking her cheek making her look up into your eyes. You notice the longing look in her eye as you flushed your bodies together. “Don’t you want to put a baby in me, stick your cock in me, cum deep inside me like you did when we first got together?” 

She let out a soft moan as you smirked, feeling her cock hardening in her shorts. 

Y/N takes her hand from Lorraine’s face and down to her shorts, cupping her hardening cock. “Answer me, Lainey.” 

A low groan came from her throat. “Y-yes, mommy.” 

“That’s right, and you’re going to make me a real mommy.” You leaned in until your lips met hers. Her lips instantly moved against yours. You enjoy her lips for a few seconds before pulling away meeting her shining eyes. “How about we move to the bedroom so you can fuck mommy’s pussy?” 

“O-ok.” She stuttered. 

Once in the bedroom, you had Lorraine slowly strip for you smirking at her shy, eager smile as you laid back on the bed. She slowly pulled down her pants showing her hard cock underneath her gray boxer briefs. Her shirt quickly followed leaving her bra on.

“Come here.” You said holding out your arms for her. Smiling big as she climbs in your lap and grinds against your clothed crotch letting out a low moan. “You want to help mommy take off her clothes?” 

“Yes, please.” She works off your shirt with practiced ease leaning down leaving kisses along your collarbone as she unhooks your bra. When the garment is slipped off, she quickly drops down to your breast taking a nipple in her mouth giving it a suck. 

“That feels so good, slut.” You moaned out gripping her hair in your hand. You grip her hip with your other hand encouraging to thrust against you. 

She moans before releasing the hardened nipple and moving to the other. 

You let your wife enjoy herself before pushing her away.

Lorraine pulls back panting, a precum showing through on her boxers. Her eyes watching you closely. 

“Take off your bra.” You said in a demanding voice making her breath hitch before she quickly obeys. “Good girl.” You reach up and tug on her nipples making her groan as her head snaps back and thrust her chest closer to you. 

“Take off my panties.” You say as you let go of her. 

She scoots back to kiss up your thighs and places her mouth over your clothed pussy sticking her tongue out to tease your clit over your underwear. A smile on her lips as she pulls her head back and pulls your panties down your legs flinging them across the room. 

Before you can tell her anything else, she quickly shoves her face to lap up at your pussy. 

Pulling her head away by the hair and shoving her to the bed. You have your hand moving to her throat holding her down. “Did I tell you could do that, bitch?” You slap her. “Answer me.”

“N-no, mommy.” She stuttered out. “I’m sorry.”

Your free hand slips under her briefs, feeling her member pulsing in your hand. “You’re so hard for me, baby. You got plenty of cum to stuff in me?” 

“Yes!” She cried out at the sudden stroke of your hand. 

“Good.” You slid her boxers off and gave her dick a kiss on the tip. “You ready for this?” You feel her twitch nervously.

“Yes.” 

The two of you rearrange leaving you on your back with a pillow underneath your hips to keep them raised. The doctor said this would help her sperm flow better to your eggs. You have been trying to have a baby for nearly two years now. You would take any advice the doctor had to offer. 

Lorraine was in between your legs rubbing the tip of her cock along your clit. She moans as she slides in and gives an experimental thrust. The eager glint in her eyes earlier was replaced by her normal shy, unsure eyes. 

A few more slow thrusts, and you feel the nerves building in her body. You feel the build up you had fading in your body. You try to keep yourself calm as you let her adjust in having control. 

You glance at the alarm clock on Lorraine’s bedside table. It’s been twenty minutes, and you feel yourself growing more and more out of the mood. You feel like pushing her away and going to sleep.

“Sh-shoot.” Lorraine mumbles as she slides out. “No, no, no.”

You look at her alarmed. 

“Oh geez.”

You see her arm start moving as your eyes start trailing down. “Are you seriously jacking off right now?” 

“Uh, I’m having.” She starts looking completely embarrassed. She finishes moving her arm before thrusting into you again before sliding out on her next thrust. “Oh no.”

“Are you serious?” You glared at her. “My slut can’t even keep it up?”

“I’m sorry! I’m not used-”

You rise up and slap her. “Don’t talk back to me. My fucking toy can’t even fuck properly! Do I have to do everything myself?” You grab her cock already hardening again, helping her line up her cock. “Such a limp dick. No wonder I have to buy toys for myself. You could never get me off like this.” Lorraine’s thrusts start building up. “Thirty minutes and I haven’t even felt so much of a spark inside me.”

Lorraine’s hips thrust hard into you as her head falls to your chest. Her arms pulling your hips into hers. She’s panting and moaning with every thrust. 

“There you go, finally remember how much you love being mommy’s slut? You better make me cum or I’ll lock up that pitiful limp cock.” You feel her stiffening up as you roll your eyes. “Better make it count, I’m not letting you out for a month.” 

“M-m-mommy.” She cries out as she empties her cum deep inside you. She pants against your chest as she rides it out with slow thrusts. 

You smirk as she looks up and her dick twitches. Her eyes are dark and blown. She knows she failed to make you cum. 

“Oh poor baby, I hope you enjoyed that.” You say as you run your fingers through her hair. Once you feel her finish cumming, you grip her hair tightly. “On your knees.” 

She slides out of you with a groan. Her cock started to get hard again as she sank to her knees on the floor. 

You lay there as you feel Lorraine’s eyes staring at your pussy that she just filled. You let her sperm seep into you before grabbing the plug that you two had bought for your attempts of getting pregnant. 

Gathering her chastity cage, a gag, and rope, you stalked towards her. She was staring up at you with her cock straining against her stomach.

You kneeled next to her. “I warned you.” You tell her as you give her wet cock a stroke. “Couldn’t even make your mommy cum. Such a broken toy.” You start putting the cage on her enjoying the noises coming from her. “Such a greedy whore.”

“F-fuck.” 

“Ah, there she is.” You cooed, locking the cage, placing a light kiss on her cheek. “Mommy needs to cum.”

“Yes, mommy.” She licks her lips staring at your pussy. 

You take the rope and start looping it around her wrists. “You think I’m going to let you touch me after that pitiful performance?” You finish the knot. “No, I need to cum.” You give one last tug and place the ball gag in her mouth.

Grabbing your trusty vibrator, you place yourself in front of her on the bed. You spread your legs and she lets out a whine. 

“Baby, you failed at making me cum. I have to use a different toy tonight.” You tease her as you play with your clit using the tip of the vibrator. The hum of it starts making Lorraine’s hips thrust up towards you. “Oh, do you want to fuck mommy’s pussy now?”

She eagerly nods with eyes never leaving your center.

“Mommy wanted to cum all over your cock and hold you, but my greedy slut couldn’t wait.” You moan out relieved to finally feel something again. 

She whines and drool seeps out of her mouth. Her hips thrusting up against the cage. Her eyes pleading with you let her try again.

“You look like a dirty fucking slut on your knees begging to fuck me.” You were getting close, staring at her. “Oh, baby, mommy is going to cum.”

You hear a scream erupt from behind the gag as you feel the weightless feeling wash over you. Your hips thrust lightly against the vibrator as you come down.

Turning the toy off and tossing it to the side, you look to see tears streaming down Lorraine’s  face. Her cock straining against the cage. 

Smiling at your beautiful wife, you slowly get up and untie her wrists, gently rubbing them from where she was pushing against them. The gag was soaked as you pulled it out of her mouth. She closed it trying to swallow some of the spit in her mouth. 

“Are you ok, baby?” She nods breathlessly. “Want some water?” Another nod.

You get up and grab the water on the bedside table. Holding the water up to her lips, you tilt the bottle pouring it in her mouth letting her get a few gulps before she pushes it slightly signaling she’s done. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course, you were such a good girl. You came so hard inside me.” You kissed along the side of her face. “I have to be pregnant this time.”

“You were so beautiful, Y/N.” She said regaining her breath as she smiled. “It hurts.”

“Do you want out?” You asked seriously. “Just say the word.”

She shook her head. Lorraine loved the stiff uncomfortable cage on her cock. “No way.” 

“Such a slut.” You tease. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” 

You go to pull her up but she pulls you down. “You’re forgetting something.”

There was routine in her aftercare. “I love you, Lainey.” You give her a deep kiss on the lips.

Pulling away. “I love you too.”

#lorraine day x reader #x movie #lorraine day #ducky writing

[bonefarm]

The emails have found her

#sun conure #ducky #I had to write estimates all day today so she got to be Involved

[beeps-mess]

Autistic Reader + NCIS Team (Part Two)

Once again, little drabbles of a gender-neutral reader with autism interacting with the NCIS team. This one has Jack, Ducky, Tony, Tim, Kasie, and Nick.

AO3

Part One

Reblogs > Likes

Jack had picked up on your routine and habits quickly. She knew what time you arrived every morning, she knew how you took your coffee, and that you had to have a specific lid on the cup or else the texture made everything taste horrible when drinking. This information came into hand pretty soon after she noticed it. You had stayed at the office with Gibbs, working through different paperwork, and Tim had tried to be nice by picking you up coffee. Unfortunately, you had worked yourself to the bone, too tired to speak up when you felt the gross paper lid on your lips. Logically, Jack knew you were most likely semi-verbal, if not nonverbal, and waited until you had left to go to the restroom to explain the preference when it came to lid texture. By the time you came back, there was a plastic lid on the coffee cup, one that didn’t make you want to spit the drink back out. You spun around the room, seeing blonde hair retreat into her office before you could even call out her name. A plastic reusable lid showed up on your desk the next week, fitting onto the cups from the nearest coffee shop that had the paper lids.

-

In your early days at NCIS, you avoided the morgue, finding the smell of bleach too overwhelming. As time went on, you got attached to Ducky, facing the strong smell to talk to the doctor. You would go back and forth with random stories, Ducky having heard so many of your stories that he started telling them when they related to a case. At some point, the conversations always made it to the topic of documentaries, a shared love between the two of you. Most days there would be a suggestion on a topic or feedback on a recommendation documentary. At one point, the two of you ended up bumping into each other when checking out DVDs at the same location, deciding it would just be easier to watch them together. It became the normal thing for the two of you to get together twice a month to watch a documentary, the host deciding which one. It was a constant in your life, something you appreciated very much.

-

When Tony heard you liked a good amount of Steven Spielberg’s movies he was excited, hoping you would like some other classics, but he was wrong. You liked the Jurassic Park movies the most, the Indiana Jones and Back to the Future movies following closely but that was really it. Jaws was okay, Gremlins wasn’t really your thing, and you had a strange distaste for the Goonies, something that made Tony explode when you told him. It was even worse when you said Shrek was a piece of art. All of his other films were too emotional or just didn’t catch your eye. To put it simply, Tony was frustrated, thus, starting a tradition. Once a month you would sit down with Tony and a bowl of popcorn to watch any film he deemed a classic. It was hit and miss, some being great while others just seemed plain dumb. You did appreciate his consideration when it came to the loud noises in the movies, knowing when to turn the volume down or warning you. After multiple movies though, you felt that you needed to share too, causing a rotation to start. One month, he would choose one of his classics, the next, you would choose a sci-fi movie you liked. You didn’t notice how much you liked the silly tradition until he became an agent at sea, which stopped the movies. He would try to throw out movie suggestions but you could never sit down long enough to actually start the film, something he was amused by when he eventually came back.

-

Tim had stumbled onto you and Tony bickering about movies one day, which piqued his interest. Only really doing so because the topic of the bickering was whether or not Han Solo was a douche. Tony was of the opinion that he wasn’t but you were convinced he was. Tim realized his mistake the moment he realized the topic though. Never walk into a room where two people are bickering especially if it was between you and Tony regarding films. He was immediately asked his stance, causing the conversation to end quickly when he meekly agreed with you. The topic of Star Wars wasn’t brought up again for a while, with work taking up the majority of Tim and your conversations. The topic was finally brought up again when you mentioned going home and being bored, Tim offering for you to come over and watch Star Wars with him. From there, your friendship expanded. Free time at work was spent chatting about similar nerdy stuff and scheduling movie get-togethers.

-

Kasie had taken up Abby’s tradition of making apparel for new NCIS agents but also added the tradition of making yearly sweaters or caps for the team. Every winter season they were handed out, a cap going to Nick while everyone else would get a sweater. It was a cute tradition and one that you loved until she tried out a new type of yarn. It was horrible. The texture was uncomfortable and you left the sweater in the box for weeks after you got it. Kasie didn’t know until the yearly holiday get-together. Everyone had shown up wearing their gifts except you, who chose to wear the one from last year. She had frowned, only figuring out that you might’ve disliked the yarn texture then. The next week, a new sweater arrived on your desk, the same design and the old one was nowhere to be found.

-

It was common knowledge that Nick wasn’t the best with words, often panicking when people are emotional around him, so it was surprising for him to sit next to you while you sobbed your ass off. You had gotten deep into a case, becoming horribly sad when another person fell victim to the killer. Nick just sat with you, explaining he didn’t do words but if you needed company he was there. When he tried to stand your hand reached out, grasping his wrist, making him sit back down. He sat with you for an hour in silence.

#ncis reader insert #autistic reader #reader insert #ncis fanfiction #jack sloane #ducky mallard #tony dinozzo #tim mcgee #kasie hines #nick torres #jack sloane x reader #ducky mallard x reader #tony dinozzo x reader #tim mcgee x reader #kasie hines x reader #nick torres x reader #no use of y/n #my work #my writing #platonic #ncis team x reader

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Sounds of Justice - Master List

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

A/N: This is my response to the mafia AU poll that I posted. It was a challenge to write it but it was worth it. Comments and reblogs are very much welcomed and I hope you enjoy the fic. Please take notice of the warnings; they are exactly the same as the warnings on this page and they will be at the top of each chapter.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

#my writing #my fics #the sounds of justice #rafael barba x reader #ncis x svu crossover #rafael barba #female reader #tony dinozzo #ziva david #jethro gibbs #jimmy palmer #ducky mallard #abby sciuto #nick torres #tim mcgee #ellie bishop #olivia benson #amanda rollins #mob au #sonny carisi #fin tutuola #mafia au #moodboard made by me on canva #images were found on google #credits to the original owners of the images #enemies to friends to enemies

[specters0rd]

Operation: Cure MC's Sadness.

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

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Words: 1,503

Chapter: Prologue

A/N: I greatly apologize for possibly making the guys OOC, it’s a been a while since I wrote a fanfic (let alone a series) and not to mention my first ever fic for Ikevamp. Sooo… Scheduling for the other fics? I’m still figuring it out given that it took me a while to even finish this up, but I’ll make sure to post teasers here and there. I’m also still figuring out how to bring in Vlad and his minions in as well as connect Sebby & Will into this. If you got any suggestions for any the guys (except for Vincent and Theo, they’re the ones that made me want to do this and first one I came up with) don’t be afraid to suggest them in my ask box, reblog, and comments!

taglist: @natimiles @bicayaya @koco-coko

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

The poking from the beams had sobered up MC who wasn't sure if they actually slept or not, the eyes cloudy and slightly dry as they could barely make out the ceiling and orange sunlight stabbing them in one side. While a grunt escaped from their lips as their hands rubbed off the blurry dryness while they tried to recall last night, their body slumped over as they took a moment to admire the decor of the bedroom, especially with the painting they had the privilege to choose all thanks to a certain devil art-dealer. MC’s mouth couldn't stop themselves from curling up with fondness before falling as last night came rushing back to them. While they threw their blankets and legs over the side to get up, the urge to zone out and actually process everything finally took over, not surprising since a situation like this is quite... The story one can say. Once upon a month, MC was enjoying her time at the Louvre before being thrown into some kind of Alice in Wonderland plot with time, historical  figures and vampires. What a YA fantasy-historical novel! Now this main character is… Stuck with no way back.

"Righttt... Homesickness. It's only been like... Two weeks since the damn door broke?" They whispered to themselves as they tried their best to read the clock; a skill that they still haven't mastered even a month in this mansion, tragic honestly. A hushed curse escaped from their mouth as they could guess roughly that they had 15 minutes or less to hop in and help Sebstain with breakfast. This only leads to more… Cursing from the struggling dork who’s playing detective right now over socks. Yes, over socks.

“You still haven’t broken that habit of yours, have you?” A chuckle from the butler as he broke the bloke’s case with a swift point of his finger to the clue; socks had been under the bed the whole time. This left the victim of messiness and forgetfulness to facepalm in shame once again.

“Oh god damn it. Thanks, Sebastian.” MC shook their head as they quickly snatched the socks and threw them on along with their high-quality shoes whilst Sebastian stood still at the door. A quick glance could tell the man before them was more concerned than the usual exasperation; they could feel the guilt sink in as the butler sighed.

“As much as I wanna don’t wanna push you to talk, MC, I think now is the time you open up. Especially because it’s clearly affecting your sleep and work.” The man spoke with seriousness and softness as he signaled to follow him towards the inevitable; a mansion meeting.  

“Never thought I’d have an intervention…” MC joked as they followed aside the butler shaking his head at them, the fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“You wouldn't have one if you didn't try to pull the workaholic route for solving your problems...” 

“Ah, Fair point.”

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

“And here I thought Theo was bad…”

“Oh shut it, Arthur. You're one to talk here.” 

Theo shot a glare at his typical flippant frenemy as Arthur's attempt to soft the atmosphere slightly failed. MC's mind was fried at this point so even bickering didn't help nor rubbing their temples and guilt away.

“Was that really bad? God…” MC knew it was a rhetorical question especially with the sympathetic and annoyed looks at the table.

“I don't know what your definition of “bad” is, but typically, bumping into paintings, eye-bags, and breaking plates more than you usually do is quite bad, Hondje " Theodorus leaned back in his chair as his blues scolded the “family dog”.

“Not to mention forgetting food and leaving cups of coffee behind,” Mozart added as he took a bite of his breakfast, paying no mind to the soft glares from Napoleon, Issac, and Vincent.

Arthur shifted closer in his chair as his hands intertwined on the table; a sigh escaped from his lips.

“They are starting to get the point, lads. It's about time to start getting to the heart of the matter now.” Arthur gave a soft chuckle, the seriousness never leaving his eyes as he continued.  “So, do you think you can explain why exactly that's causing this? Or is this workaholic habit the whole reason you haven't talked about it at all?” He arched his brow at them as he noticed MC immediately trying to puzzle it.

“I think the answer is quite obvious, but hey…” A voice hunches over Arthur, making the man jump and almost flings his coffee across the room.

“OH JESUS,MARY, AND JOSEPH. USE THE BLOODY DAMN DOOR DAZAI.” Arthur cursed at the tardy man before him, his glare never leaving him as Leonardo with the help of Jean drags Dazai and throws him into a chair. 

A smile never leaves the eccentric, in fact, it only widens when looked at MC’s reaction. Not even the patriarch's glare seems to wipe it off him.

MC was trying to hold back their laughter at the scene before immediately stopping when eyes were all on them, a sense of anxiety in the pit of their stomach as they spoke.

“Well, yeah…  It's pretty obvious for the perceptive folks here. I'm just gonna assume you want more details from me, right Arthur?” They looked at Arthur for confirmation, which earned a quick nod from him as he checked if his good old suit survived.

“Well…” They paused for a moment to gather their thoughts and ease the tightness of their throat. “I'm starting to think it finally dawned on me that I can’t go home yet… And the fact I never really fully processed everything. I kinda just threw myself into the chores. I mean it helps! Only to the point though… I think? Ugh…”

A comforting hand from Vincent laid on [Y/n]’s shoulder, noticing they were shaking at little.  While MC smiled at him, they looked back to see everyone contemplating how to solve the issue now they got the reason for. 

Comte took a moment to look at the clock before letting out a sigh.

“Well, one thing is certain, you need to take a break.” Comte paused for a moment before smiling. “Make that a week-long break.”

MC arched a brow at him before she felt a poke on the head by Napoleon, they looked up to see his smirk.

“Yes, MC, it's fine! You really need to work on that workaholic habit, I swear.”

A small croak, or well more like a tiny squeak, interrupted the moment. Issac was trying to say something and it ended up… An awkward way to make himself known.

“Ahem…” The physicist paused for a moment while trying to fight off his embarrassment. If MC wasn't giving Dazai and Arthur death glares, Issac would’ve been eaten alive… Well, for now.

“I was wondering what MC wants to do on their break… I mean, not sure if I can do much, but I'm free if you need someone to hangout with or… Vent too.” Issac lightly scratches the curve of his cheek with a sheepish smile.

“Not really sure either… But I'm all ears if you want to do something…” Jean chimed in with an earnest look in his eye despite how deadpanned his voice sounded.

Leo clicked his tongue as he thought of what he could do. “I mean, I’m sure if I have the time right now. Given Comte and I had an appointment with-”

“I mean, MC can accompany us with that invitation we got from my good old friend I haven’t seen in a while-.”

“Hold it guys. You're all getting ahead of yourselves there.” MC chuckles as they pop the last croissant in their mouth. 

“I’m assuming that at least most of you are gonna… I don't know. Try and ease me by making me chill and hangout with you all?” 

“Call this operation: Cure MC’s sadness” Dazai wiggled his eyebrows as his grin widened at the eye rolls he got from some of the folks at the table.

“Well, first of all it's not most of us…” Mozart huffed a little. “And second of all, it's nothing grand to try to help someone.” He side-eyed a pouty Dazai.

“Hmm… How about this? We all have a set week to make time for MC during their break.” Sebastian proposed to everyone as he picked up dishes to clean.

MC put a hand to their chin as they thought about it.

“I don't mind the idea, but how about each of you are duos!”

“What do you mean?” Vincent asked as he tilted his head to the side a little whilst everyone was either just as curious or slightly skeptical.

“Well, two of you each hangout with me on different days”. MC looked around to see everyone’s reactions before landing on Sebastian.

“Of course, I wish we could hangout too, but-”

“We’ll figure it out, don't you worry, MC.” Sebastian said before leaving towards the kitchen.

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

#duckies writing #ikemen vampire #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikevamp

[hgduo]

something kinda emotional in seeing q!Quack take this leader-like position and trying his best to make sure everyone escapes- prioritizing the kids first of course but he wants to get everyone out of here

#I'd write more but I can't find all the words rn #quackity #liveblog #qsmp #my ducky...

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Focus on the Good

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is overwhelmed dealing with being accused as a traitor, although this time he's innocent. But this time, he is not the man he used to be, and he has you by his side.

☆ Word Count: 5,110

☆ Notes: The relatively awaited part two of Smile for me. Sorry I took so long to post this, I had a creative block and had trouble deciding what to focus on. The traitor plot twist is anticlimatic but I chose to focus more on Loki and his feelings.

☆ Warnings: Loki dealing with self hatred, insinuations and caresses that aren't spicy per se but are a bit more intimate and flirty but it's all sfw.

Frustrating. How else could he call it?

His first mission as a leader was a complete disaster. You had gotten hurt due to his own incompetence. And add some insult to this pathetic situation, now he was being investigated for treason to S.H.I.E.L.D. despite that he was completely innocent.

It must have been some sick twisted joke of fate. He spent years playing with Asgard like a fiddle, getting away with so much, to the point that where he committed treason everyone realized only when it was too late. And now that he had a reason to make things right, be transparent and honest, now he was investigated as if he was some traitor.

The most offensive thing of those implications was that it suggested that Loki was either using you or lying to you. When in reality he would die for you, he’d walk through fire if you asked him. Or that you were complicit of his ‘crimes.’ You, you who were the kindest, sweetest, most righteous person he had ever met.

Every day or two days at most they come to either interrogate you, him, or inspect your shared room which always left them a mess to clean up.

At least the people he cared about knew he was innocent. Thor was constantly arguing with Fury, going over and over about how this was nonsensical and even offering Loki to flee to New Asgard for a few days until things calmed down. Valkyrie had offered him an extra room if he needed. Bruce, while he wasn’t as passionate about defending Loki, agreed that it made very little sense that Loki would betray them now with all he had accomplished. Even the great Tony Stark agreed between sarcastic jokes that he would’ve believed if he hadn’t seen how down bad, he was for you.

You… what would he do without you? You not only got into mad arguments and made abundantly clear your distaste for this decision, but you were his biggest source of support and peace after all the draining routine he was being put through during the suspension from missions. You were a risk taker by disobeying direct orders from Fury by asking Thor, Bruce, Nat, Clint to trade with you during missions as to make a strike until they decided to reintegrate Loki to his normal duties. And for the first week of interrogations, whenever it was your turn… Norns, he felt a bit bad for the director. You were quite loud and fierce when you wanted to be.

But most importantly, all the support he got from you after all the interrogations and room inspections that hurt him more than he’d ever admit.

“I’m sorry…” he sighed, resting his head on your lap.

In between the inspections to your shared bedroom one of the agents had broken a little figurine you collected.

“It’s just a toy, I’ll get another one…” you assured him.

Loki could sense a lie. But he also remembered how excited you had been when you got it, saying it was rare and it had taken you a huge effort to get it.

“You darling prince…” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. We know you’re innocent, soon all of S.H.I.E.L.D. will see it too. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

“What did I do so right to deserve such a pretty angel such as you?” he chuckled. “You are unfairly good to me.”

“You keep saying that baby.” You spoke gently, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. “You sound like a broken record.”

“I might be one” he shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Yeah?” you giggled. “Then I’ll just have to fix you.”

“I thought you said the I can fix him was a toxic mentality in romance” he said cheekily.

“Oh, now you remember my movie rants” you laughed. “But the I can fix him trope is toxic when—”

“…It is used by the abuser who manipulates them into staying as a rehabilitation center. A partner should be part of your support group but never the responsible to fix you, but a motivation and helping hand while you fix yourself.” He opened his eyes to look up at you as he finished repeating your old rant word by word. “I always remember the things you say.”

“Is that so? When is our anniversary?”

“June 9” Loki smiled and noticed you opening your mouth to retort. “And our 1,000 days together is on March 5th year. And yes, I knew you were going to ask that.”

“Smart pants” you smiled.

“You love me like that.”

“I do” you smiled and kissed his lips softly. “Guess you don’t need fixing after all.”

“Glad we agree, I am the most perfect man” he grinned, relishing the way you cringed and smiled at the silly joke.

“I don’t know about that.” You smiled, “But you are perfect for me.”

You pecked his lips and made him smile.

“I don’t deserve you…” he smiled.

“Oh, that’s it!” you laughed and soon your hands where all over his sides.

And sooner than that Loki was laughing his head off.

“Hehe- hey!” he protested between laughs.

You had an annoying charm. Tickling him silly as a pseudo-punishment. It was your shared secret how much Loki enjoyed being tickled. You stopped soon enough, smiling at him, caressing your thumb across his cheek.

“It’ll pass before you notice…” you whisper. “They will see exactly what you truly are. Just like I do.”

Loki chuckled softly.

“I hope not, you are a handful already” he smirked at the offended look on your face due to his comment.

“Oh, you want to talk about a handful…” you growled as you flipped to straddle him. “Let’s see how much of a handful I can be…”

Loki gulped, unable to fight a smile.

“Ahah…” he huffed, “darling, d-don’t… d-dohohohon’t!”

But your hands were already attacking his sides, your fingers skillfully scribbling along his skin, prodding his ribs, drilling along each crevice in the most maddening way.

“Is that enough handful for you, huh?” you asked in a faux anger. “Eh? Is it?”

“Thihihihihihis is cruel!” Loki protested. “And thahahahat doesn’t mahahake sehehense!”

“Mmm, it might have just been excuse to get my hands on this hot bod of yours” you smiled.

Being tickled was already a vulnerable moment for Loki. To the point where only you could tickle him without any resistance. Anyone else would need to overpower him physically or just restrain him. You, on the other side, he would barely fight back. He’d simply squirm in his place, rolling over to the side or on his stomach. Which it gave you more of a sensation that he just wanted you to focus on other spots. Not that he'd ever admit… you had tried.

“Ehehehe! You ahahahaha— wait no!” he protested as your fingers reached his stomach, giving it little pinches and pokes. “Lohohohove, stop!”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and kissed his forehead as you stopped the tickling. “Is your mood better?”

“Ihi— if I say yes will you stop torturing my stomach?” he smiled at you, holding onto your hips. “You know I can’t take it there.”

The way you leaned against his chest to kiss his lips never failed to drive him wild. And this wasn’t the exception.

“I am aware” you hummed against his lips. “That’s why it’s my favorite spot to tickle.”

“I am, unfortunately, also aware of that” he chuckled.

“If you really minded it, you’d actually do something to stop me instead of just laughing your heart out.”

“I love it when a beautiful mortal has their hands all over me, is that something to be ashamed about?” he grinned cheekily at you.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “It wouldn’t be if you were still single. But you are stuck with me now and forgive me if I’m not good at sharing my boyfriend. Unless you’d share me with others.”

“That is out of the question. You are mine, and mine alone.” He said solemnly as he held you in his arms. You lifted your eyebrows, expectantly as he felt his cheeks warm up under your gaze. “As… I am yours; I suppose.”

“Was that so hard to say?” you smiled.

“Terribly so” Loki smiled. But then, his face adopted a serious, melancholic expression. “I’m sorry… I should not be dragging you into this disaster. You deserve better, and I fear you will realize that. It would be best for you, but… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Lucky for you, that’s not something you have to worry about” you assured him, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I am perfectly happy with you.”

One thing that Loki loved about your relationship was that despite knowing you said stuff to made him feel better, it never came off as dishonest, as if those two concepts weren’t mutually exclusive. You said the kindest, most loving things, and he could tell you honestly felt every single one.

It made his heart soar. That honest and kind heart of yours was exactly what he had been craving for. You were what he had been looking for.

It made him want to open his heart to you. You were kind and listened to him without judging or thinking the worst of him.

“What am I going to do?” he sighed. “If I can’t go on missions, soon I will not be allowed to go outside, and then I will be going back to being a high-class prisoner.”

“Actually… you can’t leave the building given you’re under investigation” you said apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Lovely…” he groaned, throwing his head back, rubbing his face with his palms. “I am back to being a prisoner. Might as well get inside a cell.”

“Yes, we could tie you up, and torture you until you confess” you purred, trailing kisses along his jawline, as your hands made their way to play with his hair.

“You’re making it sound appealing” he hummed, relishing the feeling of your lips against his skin. “Mmm~ Keep touching me like that and I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Mm, what a good boy” you giggled, kissing his lips.

He laughed along with you, but mostly because your hands had found his ears and were tickling behind them.

“W-Whahahat are you doing? T-That tickles!” he laughed.

“I told you I would torture an answer out of you” you giggled, tickling the back of his ears. “Now confess, you war criminal!”

“Nohohoho, stohop it!” he squirmed underneath you. “How is thahahat spot so bahahad?”

“Right?” you chuckled, pressing loving kisses along his face. “I found out the other day while we were kissing.”

He grabbed your wrists. “Oh really?” he smirked, and trapped your wrists in one of his hands as he began tickling your ear shell and behind it. It took absolutely nothing to have you giggling like a kid.

“Ehehehe! L-Loki!” you giggled. “Hehehe! I-It tickles!”

“It does, does it not?” he chuckled.

He traced along the outline of your ear. He relished the way you laughed against him, you never tried to get away nor asked him to stop. You loved that closeness as much as Loki did.

“Mmm, that laugh of yours is so lovely~” he hummed as he stopped, tucking a few streaks of hair behind your ear. “It’s my favorite sound in the whole world, you make me so happy.”

“Cheesy” you chuckled, kissing his lips.

“I mean that, darling” he smiled. “Without you I would have gone mad by now. Or worse, I would be a prisoner.”

“You can’t believe that…” you spoke softly.

“What else am I supposed to believe?” he sighed, “what I did to New York is unforgivable. I should be locked up for life, I was going to be… It’s what I deserve. It took me too long to understand it.”

It broke your heart to hear him talk like that. It was a shame that he still punished himself so badly. You appreciated that he recognized his error, but the fact that it haunted him was painful to watch. He was already working on getting better.

“Loki… Your beef with Earth had its particular and complicated circumstances, it wasn’t 100% your fault.” You assured him. “But even if that was, there are other ways to atone for your mistakes… Punishing yourself but you were helping Earth, compensation is another way of redemption. Being an Avenger is a way to redeem yourself.”

“How do you do it?” he chuckled, “How do you manage to look at all the awful things I have done and still somehow see the best in me?”

“Because I’ve also seen how much you regret it, and I’ve seen you trying to prove to everyone, prove to yourself that you are doing better.” you spoke lovingly. “That means a lot, to me, to Thor, to everyone.”

“But why?” he asked. “What I did is…”

“Fucked up, yes. Tony and Bruce created a genocidal robot, Clint was an international criminal prisoner and retook as an assassin, Steve and Natasha were literal war criminals, your brother before you nearly started a war—”

“That I provoked him into.”

“Would you do it again?” you asked.

“For the sake of entertainment—” Loki pondered.

“Loki!” you giggled.

“I’m jesting, love!” he laughed. “Earth is no good in wars like Asgard, we fight to settle disagreements, make alliances, or get respect. But never to destroy.”

“We’re not so bad…” you smiled.

“Not all of you, no.” Loki agreed. “You for once are a wonderful mor— human. Smart, beautiful, funny, kind… It’s the people on the higher power that worry me.”

“It’s as they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely” you shrugged. “That’s what we fight for. For those without power, and against those who abuse it.”

“You say that as I remain locked in here, simply training and withering away” Loki sighed.

“Well… we can find something interesting to keep you occupied—”

“Reindeer games, out now!” Tony banged on the door.

“Not now Stark!” Loki called annoyed.

“You’ll want to see this.” Tony spoke through the other side of the door.

You stood up and Loki followed right after. Everyone was headed to the meeting room so that’s where you went to.

Bruce and Thor had one of the younger cadets, Philip. He was struggling against the two. His blonde hair was a mess and he looked like he had lost a fight.

“We found our traitor, brother.” Thor said firmly, even a bit prideful. “The little rat sabotaged our missions.”

“A double agent?” Steve asked.

“Self-sabotage” Bruce clarified. “He informed the base you were going. Who and when. And exactly how to take down a god. We found a report of the mission sent to an unknown address.”

“I found it.” Natasha stated.

“You?” Clint raised an eyebrow.

“We” she corrected herself.

“With my technology, that is.” Tony added. “In case anyone was wondering.”

“No one was wondering that, Tony” Steve smiled lightly, amused by the genius’ ego.

“But why? You were the only non-Avenger agent Loki chose personally” Thor asked. “My brother trusted you. And it was a wonderful opportunity for you.”

Fury looked… well, furious.

“Philip Crowe, you’re immediately and effectively removed from all S.H.I.E.L.D. work and installations, permanently for treason, espionage, and sabotage to an elite strike agent.” Fury said firmly.

“Elite?! He’s a monster!” the young man protested, struggling to break free from the arm lock. “It’s a time bomb! It’s in his nature! You’ve seen what he’s capable of! It’s a matter of time before we have New York part two! You’ve read myths, what guarantees that there won’t be a Ragnarök on Earth?! He—”

SMACK! He had been cut off by a slap in the face by you. If the stinging in his cheek was not enough to silence him, your cold glare silenced him.

“Take him away.” You said. “I want him rotting in a cell for a really long time…”

“Oh, he will be locked in the dark for a very long time” Fury agreed, “for espionage, and sabotage… And being an asshole as a whole.”

Thor was about to take him away. He was struggling to break free.

“Don’t.” Loki spoke up. “I’ll use a spell to delete his memories, about S.H.I.E.L.D. about the Avengers. Everything will be gone from his mind. He can live a normal life not remembering being an agent.”

Loki walked and looked down at him. Placed his hand on his forehead as the blond struggled. Loki let his Seidr flow and Philip’s body went limp.

“When he wakes up, he’ll be normal, he can have a normal life, he won’t be a risk for S.H.I.E.L.D.” he sighed and left the room.

Flowers bloomed under him as he sat by the lake. Just enjoying the familiar view. But not even that brought him any joy.

“Loki, there you are, honey.”

“Hello mother” Loki smiled. “I was just… thinking.”

“I thought you would be happy to get your naming” Frigga said. “You were excited this morning to receive your title.”

“God of Mischief, mother?” he asked. “Does that mean I’m supposed to cause trouble?”

“Is that so bad?”

“Will father get upset at me?” Loki asked. “Besides, you like annoying your brother.”

“Pranking Thor is different. Why could I be the God of rain, wind, or something, then Thor and I could be gods together.”

“You can’t revolve your personality around Thor. Your godly title is meant to reflect your personality, not your brother’s” Frigga smiled at him gently. “Your father gave you a title that would fit you.”

“Does father think I’m a bad son?” he asked.

“I think your father thinks you’re creative, smart, with good abilities to get away with what you want” Frigga assured him. “All qualities you do have. And you are quite cheeky.”

Loki chuckled weakly. Frigga smiled and picked up a purple flower and wiggled it against Loki’s face. Causing the young god to scrunch up his nose and swat the pretty flower away.

“You know, son. I think it’s time for you to start learning magic” Frigga said.

“But you said I had to wait until I was 500 years old” Loki asked.

“I think you’re ready” Frigga said, “You’re 250 years old already, and you just got your title. You are a big boy now.”

With a few elegant movements the violet on Frigga’s hands turned into a purple frog that jumped out of hands and into the pond. Loki giggled as his mother’s arms trapped him into a hug as she tickled his sides.

“Pretty memory” you looked at him as you sat next to him. “Your mom is pretty.”

“Most beautiful woman in all of Asgard” Loki agreed. “Do you know what Orvokki means?”

“Uhh, it’s a violet, right?” you said looking at the flowers around the lake.

“It can also be interpreted as little orphan. How ironic that it was my favorite flower as a child…” Loki grumbled.

He flicked his wrist and the illusion of his memory vanished. He was no longer in Asgard, he was sitting on the rooftop of the compound’s main building. He wasn’t with his mother. And his eyes were red from crying.

“That was really nice thing you did back there” you congratulated him as you rubbed circles across his back.

“Not bad for a monster, huh?” Loki huffed out, in a failed attempt to fake out a laugh. “Did you see the way he looked at me? The fear in his eyes…?”

“Don’t listen to him…” you said resting your head against his shoulder. “He never gave you a chance to prove how good you really are. That’s his problem, not yours.”

“I can’t blame him… I would not trust me either… I am a monster, I was a monster to my people, to my home…” he sighed.

“What? No, Loki…”

“My birth father abandoned me to die, I was raced by a kingdom that thought my kind were monsters…” Loki sighed, “and I caused so much pain and death to a Realm that could’ve seen me as something quite literally divine.”

You looked at him and squeezed his hand.

“I thought… I hoped I had a second chance, I wanted to believe people were already accepting me. I thought that if I could have at least one agent to trust me… How foolish of me…”

“Stop that…” you scolded him, giving his hand a gentle and loving squeeze. “You’re not a monster. No one sees you as a monster.”

Loki laughed bitterly. While you weren’t lying in the literal sense, you were being too kind, blinded by your affection for the young Asgardian to acknowledge the recent events.

“I mean it!” you said. “You’re so focused on one person thinking you’re a monster, that you fail to see what everyone else did because they believed in you. They all helped in their own way to prove you were innocent. Either tracking conversation, providing resources… Gosh, even director Fury trusted you were innocent.”

“I…” Loki recapped the events from earlier. You weren’t wrong.

“Besides, you know how picky I am when it comes to dating” you smiled, “I wouldn’t date just anyone. Is that not enough for you?”

Loki was silent for a moment, for once he didn’t even have a smart reply for that.

He had seen you turn down a couple of agents or staff members before the two of you started dating. Philip among the lines of the rejected. In fact, he remembered that during that time where the other Avengers noticed his feelings for you, some of them tried to discourage him from courting you, because “you didn’t date.” In fact, they had brought it up, on his face to prove it so. You were, in fact, very picky when it came to dating. Which just made him value your relationship even more. It gave him a huge confidence boost, and the security of not being replaced or overshadowed he so desperately had been needing.

And once again, you were that source of comfort and security. You were his sweet little balm.

“I… um…” he stuttered.

You chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Tongue tied?” you teased him, making him groan in frustration as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Just… don’t give him power over you, if he didn’t bother knowing you, he shouldn’t deserve such a space in your mind.”

“Thanks, love” he smiled softly. “For… looking after me. And… helping me see that others look after me.”

“Heh… I’m glad I helped” you spoke lovingly as you rubbed your nose against his neck.

He chuckled rested his cheek against the top of your head.

“Should we head inside?” you asked, rubbing your own arms, as you stood up “it’s a bit chilly out here.”

“You can go inside, love” Loki offered. “I need some time alone.”

You looked at him worried, but a gust of cold wind made you shiver, making the idea of going inside more and more appealing. But he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the way you didn’t want to leave him alone made him smile.

“I promise I’ll meet you inside later” he assured you. But you didn’t look too convinced “Make some tea for us, and I’ll meet you in our room before you’re done putting on your pajamas.”

You gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher but you nodded and made your way inside.

He relished the fresh air. But as he mentally prepared to be burdened with his failure, he surprised himself smiling. His mind wasn’t clouded with the young spy that betrayed him.

All he could think was that all the original Avengers, those he had cursed himself for unintentionally helping assemble to defeat him… now had stood up for him. And it didn’t stop there.

His mind was filled with happy memories.

All the times he had gotten a pat in the back from Tony and being called his new favorite for teasing Steve’s righteous stiffness and the way Bucky and Sam snickered at it. As well as his training contests with the super soldiers to test their serum with Loki and Thor’s godly nature. How he beamed with pride at the blond’s praise after a mission. The way Natasha and her little sister acknowledge his ability to infiltrate and swoon targets and even required him specifically. How Clint and his little new protegee had gotten really happy when Loki gifted them his old Asgardian bows for them, despite the teasing when they saw right through his “I don’t even use them” excuse and treated for dinner after. Bruce acknowledging his observation capabilities during some of his experiments. Thor… who despite all the awful things they had gone through never abandoned him, and still saw Loki as his baby brother, and despite they refused to admit it, both still adored each other.

And you. You had stolen his heart from minute one. He had been hopeless before the first kiss or even a declaration. Your eyes brought him to his knees, and he had sworn to be at your mercy for the rest of his existence when he saw you smile. And with that power you had over him done nothing but nourish him. Your payback when he pestered you was always fun and harmless. You made him laugh. You listened to everything he said and always encouraged him to keep talking until he was hoarse. You gave him the attention he had been craving for so many years. You treated him as the most important being of the universe.

Honestly, he didn’t realize when his thoughts had set him in motion. But by the time he was aware of his actions, he was already turning the doorknob of your shared bedroom.

“Liar” you scoffed, throwing a teddy bear to his face as soon as he set foot inside the room. “You said you’d be here before I was done putting on my jammies, but it’s been 5 minutes since I got in bed, and you weren’t here.”

Loki couldn’t help but smile. For a secret agent, you were terrible at hiding your feelings… at least from him.

“I apologize for not keeping my word, love” he apologized as he took off his shirt and searched through his drawer for the pajama he wanted to wear. “I lost track of time.”

“Did you drink?” you asked him.

“I did not. I trusted my favorite thing to make me tea” he responded with an innocent look as he put on his pajama shirt.

“It’s on your night table” you responded with the slightest pout, knowing you it was because he saw right through you.

He walked to the warm mug and took a sip. Of course, you had prepared his favorite tea… and with extra honey, just the way he liked. Everyone always complained there would never be enough for everyone if you kept spoiling Loki with his favorite all the time. You always got more, but it just meant starting the cycle again.

“Thank you, dear” he smiled as he kneeled on the bed to reach and cup your face to kiss your cheek.

Oh, how he wanted to tackle you and cover you in kisses at the way you fought and lost against the smile that appeared on your lovely face along with a light shade of pink.

“So adorable…” he chuckled.

As he was taking off his pants, he saw the way your blush turned even darked. He rushed to put on the pajama pants and dove in the bed, wrapping his arms around you in a loving embrace with his chest against your back.

“You’re in a lovely mood” you smiled as you reached to caress his cheek. “What gives?”

“I just thought about a lovely little mortal” he hummed pressing soft kisses on your nape, “that makes my darkest days bright and cozy.”

“Do you have a fever or something?” you touched his forehead.

“No, I mean it!” he laughed. “I stayed back to think… and all I could think about was your love, your kindness, and this hot body of yours…”

As he spoke that last bit, he reached to caress your sides, making you giggle.

“Loki…!” you giggle swatting his hand away. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“You know I am” he whispered, resting his face against your shoulder. Taking in your scent, closing his eyes as he relaxed. “Norns, what would I do without you?”

“Probably snuggle your pillow tonight” you smiled. “But you’d be fine.”

“I would not…” Loki choked up, as he felt tears forming in his eyes. “I would be lost; I would be absolutely nothing without you. A monster…”

“No, no, baby…” you spoke softly, turning around to face him. “You’ve worked really hard to be better… That’s all you, you are utterly and undoubtedly wonderful…”

The way you always made him feel better was almost scary. Your word was law. If you said he was so good, then… perhaps he wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I love you…” he whispered. “Thank you…”

“What for?”

“For being my second chance… For believing I was more than the man that caused so much pain to your people…”

“Second chances are earned, Loki” you said. “You’ve earned it.”

He laughed softly when you rose up to sit on his waist, straddling him with your legs as you gave him a pseudo-menacing look.

“Now speak poorly of my sweet cuddly honeybun and you will be sorry…” you said in the worse threatening tone he had ever heard.

He cringed and laughed softly at the overly cheesy pet name.

“Oh gods…” he muttered with a shaky smile as his lips twitched upwards, amused by the situation. “You goofball.”

You let out an offended gasp and started tickling his sides, immediately making him giggle like a child.

“W-Wait! Dahahaharling! I’m sohohohohohrry!” he whined between laughs.

“Nope! Sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time, you insult me, you insult my prince… you deserve being chastised” you said playfully as you tickled his belly, which always made him hysterical.

“NAHAHAHA! STOP! STOP! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” he cackled, soon wheezing. He was so ridiculously ticklish that had had no chance fighting back or think about anything else but the tingles that made him howl with laughter.

But he wouldn’t change this kind of silly fun with his darling for the world. And if he was honest with himself, this was a great thing to focus on.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #ler!loki #lee!loki #ticklish!reader #ler!reader #lee!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

[geeseandlimes]

[Honkai: Star Rail] Simulated You

Rating: G Pairing: Caelus/Dan Heng Character(s): Caelus, Dan Heng, March 7th, Herta Warning(s): None Summary:

A bug in the Simulated Universe causes Caelus to leave with a copy of Dan Heng's Imbibitor Lunae form. A very clingy Imbibitor Lunae. The only way to solve the problem is by either letting it run its course or...to fulfill Caelus' desire. Too bad Caelus is pretty sure Dan Heng doesn't like him like that.

“Well,” Herta says with a drawl in her voice that shows more amusement than disinterest, “it’s not like it’s im possible.” 

Her extra emphasis only makes Caelus cringe. If Herta shows amusement then it just means bad things for him on the horizon. All of the newer features that kick his ass in the Simulated Universe are all prefaced by Herta showing some sort of almost genuine excitement. Though he’s not sure if he wants the puppet to dissect what’s going on right now.

“And can it be fixed?” Caelus asks.

Herta waves her hand, flippant. “Yes, yes, it can. It’ll just take some time.” Herta speak for ‘ I’m too amused by this so I’m going to drag it out as long as possible. ’ There’s the slight narrow of her eyes. A sly little smile that makes its way onto her face. “But, would you really want me to fix it?” she asks.

“Yes,” Caelus says, a little desperately. “It scares me.”

“I scare you?” a voice whispers into his ear. Caelus can’t help the red flush that creeps up his neck. He desperately tries to ignore the press of a soft, but firm, chest against his arm and the press of plush lips against the shell of his ear. Caelus especially tries to ignore the curl of a tail around his leg and the gentle embrace he is currently finding himself in. It makes him have thoughts and he can’t have thoughts because–

“Dan Heng doesn’t like me like this and this isn’t real,” Caelus blurts out. 

All while a copy of Dan Heng’s vidyadhara form is clinging to him and nuzzling close as if Caelus is all he wants in the world.

“He’s real !” Herta sounds almost offended. “He’s fresh from the Simulated Universe–although due to a bug in the system–so he’s very much real!”

“He’s data! ” Caelus’ protest falls on deaf ears. Herta waves him off with a flick of her hair.

“But he’s in the here and now, courtesy of my Simulated Universe!” she says. “So you might as well treat him as if he’s real until I figure something out. Give Himeko my regards.” And that’s that. Herta does not give Caelus any room to argue. She cuts the conversation off, goes back to whatever she works on when he isn’t sifting through the Simulated Universe, and ignores him. Just leaves him to his…clingy Vidyadhara fate.

Speaking of Vidyadhara, Caelus is not going to have fun explaining why he’s coming on board with another Dan Heng.

“Caelus?” Simulated Dragon Dan Heng tightens the hold he has on Caelus. “Aren’t we heading back to the others?”

Caelus closes his eyes in defeat. There’s no avoiding this. He can’t just spend an indeterminate amount of time on the space station. Better face the music now. “Yeah, let’s go,” he says, and prays to god that March does not make a fuss.

*****

March makes a fuss.

She’s wide-eyed and flustered, her finger pointing furiously back and forth between Regular Dan Heng and Simulated Dan Heng. Her finger finally lands on Caelus, mouth slack jawed. “ How!? ” March squeaks out. “ How, how, hooooow!???? ” 

Caelus wishes he can answer her with proper words. Maybe something along the lines of the Simulated Universe is just weird, or that there was a little hiccup. Instead, trapped as he is in Simulated Dan Heng’s arms (and tail) he can only awkwardly shrug. “Herta wouldn’t explain it properly,” he adds, as if that will help any. March fumbles for a bit, obviously confused, but it’s Dan Heng that Caelus is worried about. He keeps glimpsing over at the other man trying to gauge his reaction but he sees nothing. He doesn’t even hear Dan Heng say anything.

Simulated Dan Heng nuzzles close, cheek rubbing against Caelus’ own. It’s far too affectionate compared to how Dan Heng usually is. It gives Caelus thoughts again. All the “what ifs” and “could have been” if only–

Simulated Dan Heng presses his lips against Caelus’ cheek.

March shrieks, eyes wide and expression scandalized. Dan Heng looks just as scandalized, if not betrayed. Caelus can only pray for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow him. Maybe eject him out into space where he will then die of suffocation and the stellaron in his body can blow up safely. Anything to save him from whatever is going on right now. 

“What’s wrong, Caelus?” Simulated Dan Heng asks, all coy and sweet. There’s honey dripping from his words. Something that Caelus finds incredibly hilarious considering what a simple question it is. A question that’s followed up by another kiss that lands dangerously close to the corner of Caelus’ mouth.  This is absolutely slipping out of Caelus’ control (not that he had any).  He places his hands on Simulated Dan Heng’s arms, ready to push them off. First thing first, he needs to extract himself from Simulated Dan Heng’s hold. 

As nice as it is to even have Dan Heng (though not the real Dan Heng) pressed up to him, this situation is not meant to happen. Caelus wants things to be normal. Normal conversations, normal interactions–normal, normal, normal. He’ll just keep his feelings for Dan Heng tucked close to his chest. No need to shake the fragile atmosphere on the Express after everything that happened on the Luofu.

“Nothing’s wrong–”

“Everything is wrong.”

Caelus blinks owlishly as he feels a firm grip on his arm. With one harsh tug he finds himself stumbling out of Simulated Dan Heng’s hold and into Dan Heng’s chest. “Everything is absolutely wrong,” Dan Heng repeats. “You need to give him space so he can answer our questions.”

Simulated Dan Heng’s eyes narrow. His arms cross, so reminiscent of regular Dan Heng, and the look on his face is unimpressed. Caelus, still cradled in Dan Heng’s arms, finds himself sweating. He’s not quite sure what’s about to happen now. 

“Then, shouldn’t you let him go, too?” Simulated Dan Heng asks. His tail is flicking behind him in annoyance. “You’re also holding on to him far too tightly.”

Dan Heng lets Caelus go as if he’s been burned.

Caelus stumbles forward, finally allowed to have a little breathing room ever since he left the space station. March is quick to rush up to him, nervously clinging to his sleeve as she stares at the two Dan Hengs staring each other down. “C-Come on you guys, let’s just figure out how to solve this,” March says. 

“Herta is the only one who can help, though,” Caelus tells her. “And you know how Herta treats me.”

“Like a guinea pig, it’s disgusting,” both Dan Heng and Simulated Dan Heng say at the same time. The two glare at each other, but Simulated Dan Heng is the one who does something. He makes his way back to Caelus’ side. He doesn’t hug Caelus like before. He just nestles himself close to Caelus’ side, tail idly coiling around Caelus’ leg.

“I don’t like it at all,” Simulated Dan Heng murmurs. A hand comes up to rest on Caelus’ chest. “She puts you through way too much. You can ask for my help.” That hand trails up Caelus’ throat, delicate fingers coming up to tickle at Caelus’ chin. March is making flustered noises, her grip on Caelus’ sleeve threatening to tear the fabric.

“Stop that,” Dan Heng snaps. 

Simulated Dan Heng scoffs.

“Why? Are you jealous and wish to be where I am instead?” Simulated Dan Heng follows his words up by gently grasping Caelus’ chin. Caelus has to swallow the lump in his throat, eyes widening as his head is turned to look at Simulated Dan Heng. He’s trapped by jade eyes, bright pupils, by his own thoughts of always wanting to kiss Dan Heng. Caelus’ heart is pounding as Simulated Dan Heng leans in. A part of his mind is yelling at him to pull away, but the love-drunk part of him, the one who loves Dan Heng a bit too much, demands he stays still.

“Caelus! Caelus, snap out of it, Dan Heng looks ready to kill!” March’s words fall on deaf ears.

Caelus parts his mouth, body shivering as he feels Simulated Dan Heng’s nose brush against his, their mouths about to connect–

Caelus is drenched in water right at the same time as the door to the lounge car slides open and Himeko comes strolling in with Welt announcing that she was able to get the solution for their problem from Herta. Dan Heng had turned into his Vidyadhara form, having used his cloudhymn magic to interrupt the almost kiss.

“Oh,” Himeko says, eyes wide, “did we perhaps interrupt something?”

*****

Yeah, Caelus definitely wants to die now. Not that he can, considering he is currently sat on Dan Heng’s bed in the archives, with Simulated Dan Heng curled up in his lap and purring .

Purring!

Dan Heng himself is standing by the terminal inputting data to the archive as always. Though, if Caelus squints his eyes a little, he swears he can see that Dan Heng’s movements are stiffer than usual. Angry, Caelus thinks. Dan Heng is angry. Caelus doesn’t blame him for being angry, either. The information that Herta had supplied Himeko with revealed too much information than Caelus was comfortable with. And that information directly involved Dan Heng.

Herta told me that the bug happened due to Caelus’ own desires getting mixed with the system that made Aeons manifest. The Dan Heng that is currently…very affectionate with him is what Caelus wishes to have. It should go away on its own. Or, if you wish to have this entity disappear faster, then simply fulfill those desires.

Caelus groans and closes his eyes. The worst way for Dan Heng to find out that Caelus harbors feelings that go beyond friendship for him. Simulated Dan Heng snuggles closer, as if taunting Caelus. At least the explanation Himeko gave explains the uncharacteristic way Simulated Dan Heng is asking. All of Caelus’ desires, made manifest thanks to a simple bug in the Simulated Universe. Honestly, Caelus should be apologizing to Dan Heng for all of this.

He came on board with a copy of Dan Heng’s Vidyadhara form. Said Vidyadhara form was latched onto Caelus and refused to let go. On top of that, Himeko then dropped the equivalent of a nuke in terms of information by saying that this Vidyadhara form reflected every single desire inside of Caelus. Dan Heng had to find out that Caelus wishes to not only kiss him, but also want him glued to his hip almost twenty-four seven.

Caelus would hate himself, too.

“Hey, Dan Heng–”

“Why aren’t you asking me,” Dan Heng, like he’s been doing since Caelus came back, cuts him off.

Caelus blinks owlishly. “What do you mean?”

“Why aren’t you asking me for help?” Dan Heng repeats. He’s stopped working on the archive, making his way to where Caelus and Simulated Dan Heng are sitting. “We can solve it by fulfilling your desires, right? So why aren’t you asking me?”

“Wha–Dan Heng, you do know what I want considering how this other you is asking, right?” As if to emphasize Caelus’ words, Simulated Dan Heng coils his tail tighter around Caelus’ waist. “I can’t ask that of you. You don’t…you don’t even like me like that.” Admitting it out loud hurts, but it’s the truth. Dan Heng appreciates Caelus as a friend. There’s no romantic attachment. 

Dan Heng’s face looks conflicted, face twisting in rarely seen emotion.

Simulated Dan Heng’s purring stops. His hands cradle Caelus’ face, once again making Caelus look at him. “Look at you,” Simulated Dan Heng says, “so sad. Don’t look like that, you have me.” Simulated Dan Heng leans in for a kiss again, as if to comfort, but Caelus stops it by bringing a hand between them. It’s too much. 

The smile Caelus puts on towards Dan Heng is self-depreciating. “Sorry, this must make you uncomfortable. I know we moved here just because it’s easier to keep an eye on the Simulated Universe version of you, but we can leave.”

Dan Heng doesn’t answer. In lieu of words he sits down next to Caelus. Almost awkwardly, he leans against Caelus to rest his head on Caelus’ shoulder. Simulated Dan Heng watches. Silence stretches between the three, long and awkward. It’s broken by Dan Heng.

“I don’t…I don’t know how to express myself properly,” Dan Heng says. “I’m too used to keeping to myself. That and I didn’t know how you’d react if I told you.” 

“...yeah?” Caelus waits for Dan Heng to continue. Unconsciously, he tightens his grip on Simulated Dan Heng, who also stays quiet while Dan Heng speaks.

“So seeing you come onboard with the other me and seeing him do what I’ve sometimes thought about doing really made me…jealous.” Dan Heng seems to curl in on himself after admitting that. It’s an admission, a confession, that makes Caelus’ heart leap into his throat. He desperately tries to untangle himself from Simulated Dan Heng but only succeeds in draping one arm over Dan Heng. Jealous , Dan Heng is jealous . All because this other him had been clinging to Caelus and kissing him and doing the exact same things that Caelus thinks of whenever he sees Dan Heng.

“So you like me?” Caelus asks. “Like I like you?”

The tinge of red on Dan Heng’s ears tells Caelus everything.

“So I can keep saying that I like you. That I love you and want to kiss you and– mmph! ”

Caelus’ words are cut off by Dan Heng fisting his collar and dragging him in for a kiss. Their teeth bump together awkwardly and it’s more like they’re mashing their mouths together more than kissing. Caelus doesn’t care. He drinks it all in with glee, heart beating hard in his chest.

Dan Heng likes him.

Dan Heng loves him.

“Hey, I want one too,” Simulated Dan Heng says, trying to lean in and steal a kiss of his own. Dan Heng growls, his own tail finally coming out to wrap tightly around Caelus’ arm.

“You can’t have one,” Dan Heng says. “He’s mine.”

“I’m you, so that means he’s mine, too.”

Caelus can only awkwardly laugh as the two bicker, only to pause once he realizes that Simulated Dan Heng is still in his lap and not gone like Herta said he would be once Caelus’ desires were realized. Dan Heng seems to notice this, too.

“Caelus, what was it, exactly, that you wanted to do if he’s still here?” Dan Heng asks.

“Uhm.”

“Caelus?”

The following day, Simulated Dan Heng is gone and Caelus and Dan Heng come into the dining car together for breakfast. March is sitting there, head in her hands, and when they sit down she glares at them.

“Loud,” she hisses, “you’re too loud. Next time you guys decided to have some surprise fun time do it somewhere else.”

Dan Heng awkwardly coughs into his fist while Caelus looks absolutely unashamed. Hard to be embarrassed when he got everything he wanted last night. He casually hooks an arm around Dan Heng, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Couldn’t help it, I was just happy to be with the guy I love.”

Notes: Wooo! Baby's first post on the writing blog lmao. Written for a CaeHeng server's valentine's exchange for my giftee who gave me the fun prompt of Clingy DanHeng and Caelus sandwiched between his normal form and vidyadhara form.

don't question the logic for the Simulated Uni bug it was for plot purposes

#honkai star rail #caeheng #caelus #dan heng #duckies writings

[the19thduckpotato]

Longer snippet of Toshinori recounting his younger training days.

.

.

Toshinori nodded in understanding at Izuku. "The world definitely isn't easy. But I know you're strong enough to meet the challenges out there, to grow stronger because of them. And at your strongest when you figure out the world isn't meant for solo play and you group up with friends for help."

Like I should have.

Like you did.

Eventually.

Still did.

Izuku wrinkled his nose. "Sometimes. Sometimes whatever I'm doing is so stupid friends DEFINITELY shouldn't be there."

And now Toshinori's brain flashed back to Kamino, Izuku n Co sailing right over All for One as they grabbed at young Bakugo.

Even these days, he still felt that burst of anger, that rush to protect them, the pride of a job that was done if not smartly then at least with a whole heap of luck.

His eyes crinkled shut as he laughed fondly. "Gran Torino would be more than willing to dredge up all my exploits, I'm sure. I'm no stranger to the dumb."

"I didn't say you didn't do crazy stuff!" The kid laughed. "But you lived, and that was enough... I'm pretty sure everybody's glad about that."

A soft grateful smile.

Then the blond held up one finger. "You say that but you haven't heard these stories yet!"

He started thinking back to Gran Torino's many reactions to said exploits:

"Boy, how'd you manage to do that?"

"Yagi, what the HELL??"

"Nana, I swear to the heavens, if you didn't need this kid--"

"...seriously?"

"--Seriously?!"

"SERIOUSLY??"

Toshi was suddenly lost to laughter.

Izu grinned. "I smell a story right now!"

"Just trying to pick which one!"

"The funniest one!!"

Toshi tapped his nose thoughtfully then gave a thumbs up. "All right, lemme tell you about the first time I learned to adjust my heroing to account for property damage.

"It was a routine call, incredibly simple, really. My master wanted to see how I would handle tackling a task not exactly suited to the Quirk I was training with. She had Float, as you may recall.

"Gran Torino wasn't impressed that we had been called out to rescue a cat stuck up a tree. But as Master had put it, every little bit helped. Being a hero wasn't a lucrative career option just yet. So she wanted to instill good will whenever she could.

"I remember it was the edge of town, by a road that led out to some lovely countryside. Master wasn't surprised that I started scaling the tree immediately, so eager was I to impress her. I may not have had Float or Jet, but I had the strength to climb and so I did. Problem was, I wasn't familiar to the cat I was saving. The higher I climbed, the higher it did as well."

His eyes shone with fond memory. "Beautiful tree. One of those tall firs. The view below was a painting worthy of a museum. Tilled fields to one side, the mountains rising on the horizon, and nearby, a flock of sheep clustering by their fence and watching me. I waved and kept going, either not registering or not caring that the branches were getting thinner, smaller, whippier. Master may have called up advice to me but Torino put a hand on her shoulder. I nodded in rare agreement with him, eager to prove myself.

"The cat arched its back as I reached for it. It growled and hissed and that was probably why I never heard the branches cracking until it was too late.

"Now, if you remember, All Might is a pretty hefty guy. And well, even young All Might was fairly thick. I forgot quite how much of the tree I pulled down with me but suffice to say, I left a mark." He grimaced. "And then it got worse."

"The sheep had a front row view and just managed to scatter as I smashed into their fence. I could only watch in dazed confusion as they investigated this new set of circumstances...then cheerfully began trotting out of their pasture. Master again looked like she wanted to do something and Torino again held her back.

"I finally snapped back to it when I heard a wail of despair. I jumped up and ran to the sound, finding a cart vendor by the side of the road. The sheep had found his produce, piles of cabbage, enthusiastically munching with no intent to pay. The poor man mumbled something about having 'left Ba Sing Se because of this nonsense' and only sobbed when I tried to offer to pay.

"Master and Torino chose to intervene at this point. While he rounded up the sheep, she soothed the cabbage vendor and retrieved what she could.

"And that's when the cat landed perfectly on my head, grooming sap and fir twigs from its paws."

"Master was laughing so hard at this point that she could barely say a word until Torino stormed up. With a bemused smile, she asked me how I could have done better. I admitted I wasn't sure, that I had tried my best since I didn't have Float or Jet.

"'Ah Sunburst,' she answered. 'So close and yet...'

"'You shoulda asked for our help,' Torino grumped.

"'But I thought the point was for me to do it,' I said.

"'I never said that,' Master said. 'Only that a cat needed rescue. Hey,' she added, tweaking one of my bangs (and at that, Toshi smiled softly) 'that was the point of the lesson. And you learned it.'

"One of the left over sheep ran past at this point, cabbage in its mouth.

"'And maybe a little less property damage next time?'"

Toshi laughed now, the memory good, the story better.

Izuku tried so hard not to laugh at the plight of the poor cabbage vendor, but gave up and CACKLED at the sheep "But-- but were you okay though??" He was beaming so wide, eyes sparkling.

"Iunno, kinda fell out of the heroing business after that," his dad deadpanned. "Took up insurance from that day forward."

"Fe-- fell out..." Izuku double facepalmed

His dad just replied with the hugest grin now.

#mha #bnha #toshinori #all might #dad might #sunflower dad #izuku #midoriya #deku #broccoli son #ducky co-writes

[duckymcdoorknob]

Okay y’all be on the lookout for two more dad fics.

We’re gonna have FatGum taking his little three year old to her first softball game.

And Nozel Silva with the patience of a saint, dealing with his little boy’s adventures and his thousands of questions.

#planet dumbfuck #black clover x reader #bc x reader #black clover imagine #black clover imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #mha imagine #bnha imagine #my hero academia imagine #my hero x reader #my hero imagine #fatgum x reader #fatgum imagine #ducky writes

[duck-at-midnight]

Little Duck Origins

Summary: With Sam in therapy, Kirby evaluates the couples stance in life with Tara

Content Warning: a bit fluffy, little Tara, non-verbal Tara, slight Scooby-Doo diss

Sam woke to someone crawling into her bed. She remained still as the small figure settled next to her, keeping her breaths even. There was hope that Tara would notice she was still asleep and sleep a little longer with her. With a few moments of silence, Sam relaxed fully thinking her sister had fallen asleep. 

To her disappointment, she felt Tara nudge her and let out a low whine. 

“Good morning to you too.” Sam said, opening her eyes to meet her sister’s. 

Her sister had climbed into her bed with her pink elephant, Cuddles, tucked under her chin and thumb in her mouth. She was staring with her wide brown eyes that were begging her to get up.

”Hungry?” The girl nodded. “Pancakes?” Another nod. “Chocolate chip?” Another nod with a smile forming around her thumb. “Alright, let’s get up.” Sam said as she unwrapped herself from her blanket.

Tara walked to the living room area as Sam got dressed and brushed her teeth. She sat on the couch and turned on the TV. Her eyes never leaving Scooby-Doo as Sam walked in. 

“Here, let’s get that thumb out of your mouth.” Sam pulled her thumb out to replace it with a pacifier. There was a small whine, but with a small pat on her head, Tara was back to Scooby-Doo. 

Cooking while listening into the TV, Sam made quick work of the pancakes for her and Tara. She topped Tara’s off with extra chocolate chips and a glass of orange juice.

”Come eat, Tara.” Sam called out as she got her plate together. She poured her coffee and set her plate and cup on the table. “Tara, now.”

With the TV still playing, Tara walked over to the table and sat across from Sam. She took out her pacifier as she took a big bite from her pancake. 

“Hope you like it.” Sam said moving the pacifier away from the edge of the table. 

The girl hummed with approval and a nod. 

“Nonverbal day?” She was met with a silent look. “It’s ok. Just wanted to give a heads up to Danny and Kirby.”

She gave a confused look.

”I have therapy today. They’re going to come and watch you unless you want to sit there in a boring therapy office.” They both had weekly therapy but had it on different days. 

She shook her head. 

“Yeah, I thought so. You’d rather be here having fun with Danny and Kirby.”

After breakfast and followed by a small lunch at noon, Tara took off to play with a few of her toys in front of the TV, pacifier secured in her mouth. Cuddles never leaving her sight as she moved around on the floor. Sam was in her room drying her hair from her shower. 

The door opened making Tara look up from her toys feeling slight fear wash over her. 

“Hey, kiddo.” Kirby said as she opened the door. Danny followed closely behind. “Having fun?”

Tara smiled widely letting the pacifier fall from her lips as she ran up to Danny who picked her up. 

“There’s my favorite girl.” He said, swinging her around making her giggle. 

“Is that right?” Kirby said with a teasing tone.

”What?” He said, stopping his swinging. Both sets of eyes fell on Kirby. “You and Sam are my favorite women. But Tara, Tara is my favorite girl. Who else is going to watch Scooby-Doo with me?”

”You say that like Sam and I don’t watch it too.” 

“Hey, thanks for watching her again.” Sam said, greeting them both with a kiss. She laughed at her sister leaning her cheek out for her own kiss before giving her one too. “She’s not really talkative today.”

”That’s ok, we’ll still fun.” Kirby said, poking at the girl’s stomach making her giggle more. 

“I know you will.” Sam said confident in her significant others. “But please call me if you need anything or if something happens.”

”We’ll be fine. You have a good session and we’ll have dinner after.” Kirby reassured. She opened the door for Sam. 

Sam gave all three of them a kiss again before walking out. She took notice of something missing from her sister’s mouth. “Make sure you wash her pacifier before giving it back to her.” 

“We will, we got her.” Danny said, putting Tara down. 

“Ok, love you all, bye!” Sam said before closing the door and heading to her appointment. 

The two turned and saw Tara immediately putting her pacifier back in her mouth and going for Cuddles. 

“I should have waited to put her back down.”

Kirby shrugged. “It’s just a little dirty. Nothing that will hurt her.”

Danny walked over to Tara. “Sorry, kiddo, I’m going to need this.” He pulled it out of her mouth that was followed by a cry. “I just have to wash it.” 

She followed him closely behind and observed him washing it in the sink. Her thumb snuck its way into her mouth as she leaned towards Danny. 

He handed it back to her and was met by her wide eyes looking up at him. “You know Sam doesn’t like it when you use your thumb.” Her thumb remained in place. “Come on, Tara.” He pleaded.

Kirby walked up and tickled her sides making her giggle before pulling her thumb out. She quickly grabbed the pacifier and put it in Tara’s mouth before the girl could notice. She smiled before walking over to the couch making sure not to move Cuddles as she leaned back. 

“How do you do that?” Danny asked, walking over to the couch. He sat down and let Tara climb into his lap. She sunk into him with her eyes focusing on the TV playing Scooby-Doo. 

“You’re too gentle. I just prefer to get it over with.” 

He shook his head, “I’m not too gentle.”

“You’d let Tara walk all over you.” Kirby laughed, making Tara look over at her with curious eyes. She picked up Cuddles gesturing with the stuffed toy. “Guess I’ll cuddle with my good friend Cuddles.”

The girl whined before climbing over to Kirby and laying against her. She tucked Cuddles underneath her chin and refocused on Scooby-Doo with heavy eyes.

“That was dirty.” 

“What?” Stretching out the rest of the couch to rest her feet in her boyfriend’s lap.

“You bribed her.”

“I wanted time with our girl too.” She patted the girl’s back and kissed the top of her head.

Danny leaned forward to look at her face. “She’s asleep.” 

The blonde smirked. “Good, naptime won’t be a fight.” She laughed at Danny. “What? Are you jealous?”

“She went out like a light.”

“She probably woke up early.” Kirby pointed out. She knew when Tara woke up little she tended to wake up early. “She'll follow you around like a little duck when she wakes up.” 

Danny scoffed. “She does not follow me like a duck.”

“Oh yes, she does.” Kirby teased. “She loves you. You’re the fun one, letting her get away with things and swinging her around. Anytime you’re here, she sticks close to you.” 

“If I’m the fun one then what are you?”

Kirby’s eyes lit up. “The cool one, obviously.” 

“I can be the fun and cool one.” Danny said defensively. 

“Yes, that’s our job as the boyfriend and girlfriend of the mother duck.” Kirby pointed out. “To keep Sam sane and to remember to let loose.” 

“I think we do our jobs well.” He leaned back.

“Yes, we do.” A comfortable silence fell over the two as they focused on the cartoon. “Can we watch something else though? I’ve had enough Scooby-Doo. It’s all she watches.” 

He laughed. “And you call yourself the cool one.”

#tara carpenter #little tara #tara carpenter fic #ducky writing #sam carpenter x kirby reed x danny #sam carpenter