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It May Be (LokixReader) [Valentine One-shot]You sat in your office typing away at some official reports Fury requested. Everyone loved the Avengers and how cool they were, but most people didn’t see the corporate side behind the initiative. There were expenses to be paid, damage reports to be made, then, of course, the costs of keeping each of the Avengers happy. They weren’t by any standards a needy or bratty bunch, they just didn’t realize how much they went through. Tony and Bruce always needed some new scientific equipment, Steve went through at least five punching bags a week, Thor was a bottomless pit of strawberry poptarts, Natasha was always ruining her designer dresses on missions, and Clint’s specialized arrows did not come cheap. S.H.I.E.L.D. had more than enough funding to keep the team happy and busy, but someone needed to keep track of what it cost.
You glanced up when you heard two knocks on your door, and smiled when you saw your good friend Loki standing in the doorway. The God of Mischie
Last Minute (BrucexReader) [Valentine One-shot]“Hey, Brucie!” you chirped as you walked into the lab where your beloved boyfriend was busily at work. You were in an unusually peppy mood, and rested your elbows on the table across from where he was working. A smile spread across your lips as you asked, “We’re hanging out tonight, right?”
Bruce looked up at you and wondered why you were acting so peculiar today. It was just a typical Friday, so what was with the extra bounce in your step? You always spent the weekends together, and he asked himself what made tonight any different.
“Uh… Sure,” he answered. He jumped a bit when you squealed.
“Yay! I can’t wait! See you later,” you said and kissed him on the cheek before leaving to continue your shift.
Bruce quirked an eyebrow at you as you left, then turned around when he heard Tony chuckling lowly.
“What?” he asked.
“Wow,” Tony chided, “you are a workaholic!”
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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