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#might actually make it an annual thing
braceletofteeth · 4 months
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Congratulations to Never Let Me Go for being the second drama to get the highest rating from me this year. Currently preparing my mind and body to be insufferable about it forever.
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ms-demeanor · 2 months
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Hey nobody has asked me about this ADHD money management tip and it depends on having at least a tiny bit of flex in your budget but I'm about to spend a frustrating amount of money on flour and I can only do it because of this tip:
Hide cash from yourself like a squirrel.
Use whatever receptacle you'd like, envelopes or a zipper bag or an old wallet, create labels for the stuff you're saving for, and tuck money in there occasionally.
My stash lives in an old wallet with strips of paper around it. It's got dividers for "car registration," "bulk food," "vet visit," and a couple other things.
These are things that I know happen every year or multiple times a year that take more cash than I can easily spare from a single paycheck. If I stick twenty bucks a month in an old wallet it will mean that even if I have to pay late fees, I don't have to put my car registration on a credit card and pay interest on my late fees. If I stick ten bucks a month in an old wallet I can buy 25lbs of flour twice a year. If I can stick a bit more or less cash as it's available into the wallet I can make sure that my twice-annual regular vet visits with senior dog bloodwork and vaccinations aren't going to be too much of a hit to that month's grocery budget.
Like, everyone talks about "put money in savings once a month" or "have an account you don't touch for emergencies" and that can totally work if you can swing it, but I know it's REALLY hard for me to keep from pulling from the "emergency" fund for stuff that's a minor emergency/or is regular maintenance that I should have planned for/etc.
It's much harder for me to pull from the actual cash sitting in a physical room in my house because A) I'll probably forget it and B) that means that I have to think through using those funds in a lot more of a direct way than I would when using a debit card and C) I literally can't access it when I'm out of the house (the emergency fund HAS to be on the card to be accessible, the "i need expensive groceries" money doesn't have to be ready to go at all times and if it is available I know myself and it'll get used before it's expensive grocery time).
Like. If you know you have an expense that you have to pay for every year, hide cash specifically for that expense instead of in a general "expenses" fund because if you're not great with money and you've got an iffy memory you might look at your expenses fund and go "okay my computer crashed and there's five hundred bucks in the fund I can replace it and get back to work, cool" and there goes your car registration and a vet visit. At least if you need to physically grab that cash for an emergency you can make note of what you're going to have a deficit for later in the year.
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A friend of mine asked me once how I could tell the difference between experiencing romantic and platonic attraction. I'd like to restate my thoughts here, since I think they could be useful for some people!
First of all, Intensity =/= Romance. Platonic feelings can be just as strong as romantic ones, although the amatonormativity we live in pretends otherwise. Because of that, I used to often wonder if my squishes are actually crushes. Nowadays, I just go through a series of questions and feel much more at peace afterwards!
"Do I have a crush on this person?"
Ask yourself:
Do I want to kiss them?
On the mouth? With tongue?
Do I want them to kiss me?
Do I want to go on dates with them?
Alone? Would I like it more or less in a group setting with other friends?
Do I like the idea of being seen as a "pair?"
Do I want to live with them?
Forever?
Do I want to marry them?
What does an ideal wedding look like, in my head?
Do I like the idea of them confessing to me?
If I have any interest in children, am I interested in raising children alongside them?
Do I want to exchange gifts with them annually on dates like Valentine's and/or an anniversary?
Do I (in general) enjoy traditional romantic gifts like flowers or jewelry?
Would I enjoy receiving those gifts from the person in question?
If they told me they just got a new partner, would I feel negatively about that?
Do I feel that same negativity when other people I'd never be interested in romantically (family members, etc.) announce they have new partners? Or is it just the person in question?
If sex is a romantic thing for me, do I want to have sex with them?
Answering "yes" to a single one of these questions doesn't mean I have a crush. But answering "yes" to many of them would indicate romantic feelings.
For me, this is a relief, because when I apply these questions to my friends and squishes, I typically react with disgust and RESOUNDING "no"s. Kissing, dating, annual gift obligations, marriage, and co-parenting all squick me out and make me recoil.
A lot of aros (especially baby or questioning ones) might also answer "yes" to a hypothetical they haven't experienced themselves, but then change their answer to "no" later. I know I used to think being confessed to would be flattering (even by someone I didn't reciprocate), but now that it's happened to me a few times, I know how awkward and awful it is. Same with kissing; I thought I'd like it because everyone in media likes it, but actually trying it (with girls and boys) has firmly cemented me in the reality that I just hate mouth kissing.
But, I still thought it might be useful for some aros who struggle with their identity due to all the arophobia and amatonormativity trying to make them question their feelings!
(It might also be helpful for someone trying to figure out if they're gay/bi and have a crush on someone, idk)
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inkskinned · 1 year
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sometimes we just need someone to pay enough attention.
for the longest time i had been trying to read The Lord of The Rings. everyone had sung the praises for it, over and over. i'd seen clips of the movie and it seemed like it could be fun, but actually reading it was fucking horrible.
my parents had the omnibus - all the books squished into one big tome - and in the 4th grade i started sort of an annual tradition: i would start trying to read TLR and get frustrated after about a month and put it back down. at first i figured i was just too young for it, and that it would eventually make sense.
but every time i came back to it, i would find myself having the exact same experience: it was confusing, weird, and dry as a fucking bone. i couldn't figure it out. how had everyone else on earth read this book and enjoyed it? how had they made movies out of this thing? it was, like, barely coherent. i would see it on "classics" list and on every fantasy/sci-fi list and everyone said i should read it; but i figured that it was like my opinion of great expectations - just because it's a classic doesn't mean i'm going to like experiencing it.
at 20, i began the process of forcing myself through it. if i had to treat the experience like a self-inflicted textbook, i would - but i was going to read it.
my mom came across me taking notes at our kitchen table. i was on the last few pages of the first book in the omnibus, and i was dreading moving on to the next. she smiled down at me. only you would take notes on creative writing. then she sat down and her brow wrinkled. wait. why are you taking notes on this?
i said the thing i always said - it's boring, and i forget what's happening in it because it's so weird, and dense. and strange.
she nodded a little, and started to stand up. and then sat back down and said - wait, will you show me the book?
i was happy to hand it over, annoyed with the fact i'd barely made a dent in the monster of a thing. she pulled it to herself, pushing her glasses up so she could read the tiny writing. for a moment, she was silent, and then she let out a cackle. she wouldn't stop laughing. oh my god. i cannot wait to tell your father.
i was immediately defensive. okay, maybe i'm stupid but i've been trying to read this since the 4th grade and -
she shook her head. raquel, this is the Silmarillion. you've been reading the Silmarillion, not the lord of the rings.
anyway, it turns out that the hobbit and lord of the rings series are all super good and i understand why they're recommended reading. but good lord (of the rings), i wish somebody had just asked - wait. this kind of thing is right up your alley. you love fantasy. it sounds like something might be wrong. why do you think it's so boring?
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kamaluhkhan · 5 months
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you are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad)
pairing: young!coryo snow x fem!reader
summary: clemensia dovecote has a theory that you and snow are destined for an enemies to lovers arc. you're sure it's completely, absolutely not true...right?
warnings: 18 + smut; biting + mention of blood ; both reader and snow are not the best ppl and have some very classist/elitist opinions
a/n: finally!! i wrote one of the ideas that has been haunting me ever since i've been back in my hunger games obsession + watched tbosbas...needless to say this will likely be a series inspired by taylor swift's reputation album. also i am so sorry this is unedited bc ofc it's 3am when i had the motivation to write this but i hope y'all enjoy ♡
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i've had enemies so intense it felt like love, so mutual it felt romantic (chelsea hodson)
"what in the name of all the gods is he doing here?"
you're practically seething when coriolanus snow walks into your foyer. he's wearing an ensemble made with crisp white silk and intricately embroidered with gold thread - elegant, eventhough its silhouette would have been fashionable last year. a single white rose sits in the pocket of his jacket. he surveys the crowd, like he's calculating who's most worthy of his attention, platnium blond hair perfectly curled and practically glowing under the light of the chandelier. he looks beautiful, almost angelic.
you absolutely hate it.
"oh, i invited him," clemensia dovecote informs non-chalantly.
coriolanus makes eye contact with you from across the room, and you turn your head sharply to your best friend.
"why would you think it was okay to invite him?"
clemensia smiles mischeviously, grabbing two champagne flutes from a passing silver tray. she hands one to you.
"i know the two of you have your petty squabbles — "
"they are not petty, nor are they squabbles," you grumble, taking a sip of your drink.
your contempt towards coriolanus was perfectly reasonable and absolutely mutual. he had some ridiculous notion that snow had to land on top, that it was his right to be there instead of yours. your relationship, if you could call it that, was limited to nothing more than snide remarks, sarcastic comments, and scornful stares. you both hyperaware of the importance of keeping up appearances, but the older you got - the closer to life outside of the academy and the higher the stakes - the more any sense of civility between you two faded. just earlier this week, you'd gotten into such a heated debate about the best way to increase viewership for the upcoming 10th annual hunger games, that your professor excused you both from the class early due to the disruption. it seemed that no one knew how to make you burn with anger quite like coriolanus snow.
clemensia rolls her eyes. "whatever you want to call it, i actually think the two of you would get along if you really tried."
one of the things you admired - and, frankly, loathed - about clemensia was her determination to always prove herself right. she had this theory - one you would call ludicrous - that the tension between you and coriolanus had nothing to do with academics or status and everything to do with wanting to rip each other's clothes off.
your eyes catch coriolanus' icy blue ones again and you down the rest of your drink. obviously, clemensia was wrong about this. so, very wrong.
"well," you huff, setting your empty glass down on another silver tray that passes by. you brush invisible dust off your dress - a deep red lace, short and form fitting with exaggerated long sleeves - and add: "you'll be lucky if i invite you to my next party."
clemensia might have had the sense to apologize then, but you walked away before she had a chance.
you allow yourself to weave through the crowd, greeting every guest with an equal facade of enthusiasm and grace. you smile as brightly at one person as you do the next, showing off your newly bleached teeth and making sure that everyone feels special. silver trays of food and drinks appear and reappear throughout the crowd, being carried by nameless waiters. there's a table overflowing with gifts concealed by crisply folded wrapping paper - you expect at least half of them will be worthless.
you put up a good front, but soon enough your lipstick needs reapplying and your hair readjusting, so you briefly excuse yourself lest anyone notice a crack in your perfectly constructed image. the door to your room is slightly ajar, and you open it to reveal none other than the person you'd deliberately, but not so successfully, tried to ignore all night, his white silk shirt stained a dark crimson that happened to match your dress.
coriolanus was furious when he found out you'd invited the entire graduating class, except him, to your birthday party. you'd even invited sejanus. it wasn't that he particularly wanted to celebrate you, of all people. you were the most brilliant, biting, enfuriating person he knew, but to be excluded in such a way was insulting. when clemensia extended him the invite, he jumped at the chance to prove to everyone, to you, that he belonged here. tigris curated his outfit, and it would have been perfect had arachne crane, vapid creature she was and ever the lightweight, spilled an entire glass of red wine on him. he hurried away before anyone could see him in such a humiliating state. coriolanus is in the middle of calculating his options when you walk into what he now realizes is your bedroom.
you don't say a word at first. you haven't said one to him all night. instead, you close the door behind you and your eyes graze his figure.
"you show up to my party, late no less, and now you're parading around in what looks like a bloodstained shirt that is far too outmoded to be appropriate attire for this occasion," you remark, displaying that signature fierceness. "are you trying to ruin my birthday, snow?"
"don't blame me," coriolanus scoffs. his shoulders tense and he makes a point to stand up a bit straighter. "blame arachne for not being able to hold her alcohol while she's complaining about the food."
"oh?" you raise an eyebrow. "what did she say?"
"something about people in the districts having better options."
"vapid bitch," you mutter under your breath. you walk over to your closet, disappearing for a few seconds before bringing out a fresh shirt. you extend it to him, but he doesn't take it.
"i can't very well have a good time when one of my guests looks like he just got killed in the hunger games," you huff. "so either you put this on or your leave my party. now."
coriolanus holds your gaze, his jaw clenched, before giving in and taking the shirt from you. he goes to undo the buttons of his shirt, but stops when he notices that your eyes never leave him.
"some privacy would be nice," he says sharply.
you roll your eyes, muttering something about it being your house and your room, before sitting across the room at your vanity. as he undresses and throws his soiled shirt on the floor, coriolanus watches you closely. you meticulously apply lipstick, the shade of red almost as dark as your black nails.
you were attractive, there was no denying that, but ultimately dangerous. because you weren't carelessly cruel like arachne, nor did you wear your heart on your sleeve like sejanus. you didn't use your family's status as an excuse to avoid hard work like felix, nor were you a spineless know-it-all like clemensia. no, you were different from the rest. you had a fiery ambition and a sharp tongue, a wicked streak with just enough charisma to lure people in. sometimes when he thinks of you, coriolanus recalls stories his grandma'am once told him and tigress, about sea monsters who would tempt sailors with their bewitching voices and enchanting beauty, enticing them to risk everything - to jump into the ocean and never be relevant as anything more than a midnight snack. you were a constant, suffocating reminder of how quickly he could lose everything if he lost control, if he gave in.
coriolanus watches you set down the tube of lipstick before picking up a compact. you lightly brush the shimmery powder inside over your face to accentuate some of your gorgeous features.
the desire that burns throughout his body now has to be a side effect of the few glasses of liquor he managed to drink, allowing himself the appearance of having a good time alongside everyone else without losing control.
your eyes leave your reflection momentarily, and you finally catch coriolanus staring at you. you wink at him from across the room just as he's finished with the last button. the way you look at him makes the collar of his shirt feel tighter.
he can not give in....but what's the harm in admitting, just for one night, that he would let you drown him? devour him? beg on his knees to give you pleasure, and then thank you after the fact?
coriolanus clears his throat. "this feels wrong. i should be the one gifting you with a new shirt. it's your birthday, after all."
you let out a breathy laugh, setting down your makeup. you walk over to him, until there are only a few inches between you despite the vastness of your bedroom.
even you had to concede that coriolanus snow had such a gorgeous face for such a vicious person. you're infuriated by how elegant he looks now, in your shirt. your hands busy themselves in smoothing down his already perfect collar and you take note of the intensity of his heartbeat. you notice the way his jaw remains clenched, his posture stiff, his skin flushed. you realize that he must be trying so hard right now to retain his composure around you and you feel something that can only be described as triumph.
you smile at him, sickly sweet, and remove your hands from his body. "the best birthday present i could get is winning the plinth prize over you, snow. we both know you're not good enough, let alone better than me."
he hesitates slightly before responding.
"sorry, valerius. that's the one thing i can't give you. is there anything else you'd want from me?" he whispers, words dripping like honey.
"that depends, is there anything you want from me?"
he hums, moving his hand to cup your cheek. he begins to trace your lips with his thumb, ruining the look you had so meticulously crafted.
if only you knew.
"you're the birthday girl, sweetheart," he chides. "i'm supposed to be the one giving the gift. you do know how birthdays work, don't you?"
he's mocking you, you know that. he's trying to make you feel weak and small. you had the power a second ago, his heartbeat in the palm of your hand, and normally you wouldn't stand for him turning the tables. you'd push him away, storm out the door. but right now all you want is to tug on his perfect blond curls, to bite the smirk off his lips. maybe it's the way he's so close and can't seem to take his eyes off your lips or the calculated amount of wine you drank that's made your head a bit foggy, made you put your guard down. made you start to entertain the idea that maybe possibly clemensia's theory had some truth to it.
"why don't you surprise me?" you suggest.
coriolanus surges forward and kisses you with such ferocity, he might as well be a man starving. teeth on teeth on tongue. you instantly tangle your hands into his hair, pull on some curls just to see what he'd do. he retaliates by biting down on your bottom lip, hard enough that you taste the metallic tang of blood mixed with the remnants of honeyed wine on his lips. you whimper and pull away slightly. he holds your face firmly between his two hands, so you cannot go too far.
"sorry." but he smirks, and you know he doesn't really mean it.
eventually, you've both stumbled onto the bed half-naked. coriolanus positions himself above you, effectively caging you in with his arms and legs. you take note of his lean thighs, his bare torso with skin taut around his bones. you're almost taken aback by how frail he looks - like a malnourished teenager from one of the districts. you reach out to trace the outline of his ribs, your nails scraping against his skin, and he shudders. your hand moves lower, teasing the waistband of his underwear. he stops you before it slips underneath the material.
instead, coriolanus begins to indulge in his deepest fantasy. he kisses and sucks and bites down your body, his tongue trailing down your chest, over your breasts and around your nipples, across your stomach. he laps up your soft whines, the curses that tumble from your lips for him to do something more. you sink further into the silk sheets when he arrives between your thighs. you raise your hips, desperate to find any sort of relief, and you feel his nails dig into your hips.
"patience," he teases, his breath fanning over where you needed him most. "so needy." you could practically feel coriolanus roll his eyes.
"i swear to god snow, if you don't do something soon. i-i'll go find someone else to fuck me. felix, or maybe sejanus --"
you yelp when his teeth sink into your inner thigh. he looks up at you, eyes the darkest blue you've ever seen them.
"don't," coriolanus warns, and he gets back to work, lips actually arriving at where you needed them most.
after you've reached your high, he comes back up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself. when he pulls away, you take note of how his lips and nose shine with remnants of you. the way he looks at you while he licks his lips shows you that he wants more. you move your hand down, and you're deeply satisfied when you feel him half hard, already sticky with his release.
"oh." you smirk. "you already finished."
his eyes widen, skin flushing pink. you could feel his heartbeat grow faster above you. you could imagine he was debating the best way to restore his dominance from before. yet, here he was, nothing but a horny teenage boy who came untouched as he was eating out his worst enemy. you find it in you to not call him pathetic, but instead decide, in your post-orgasm haze, you find it endearing.
"i-i didn't mean to, but --"
"i'm just that sexy when i cum," you suggest, running your hands through his curls to calm him down. "how about we try again, pretty boy?"
soon enough, he's sitting up with his back against your headboard and your legs wrapped around his waist, his length fully nestled into your warm cunt. coriolanus' blunt nails graze your hips, moving lower to your ass to guide you with each thrust. you love seeing him underneath you, seeming completely mesmerized by how your breasts bounce up and down in front of him. he leans forward to wrap his lips around your nipple, but you beat him to it. you bend forward and suck bruises onto his skin, everywhere and anywhere: underneath his chin, across his collarbone, where his neck meets his shoulder.
his moans are so loud, and you're sure he's not going to last much longer. you're also worried that some of the other party guests might catch you, so you pull his head away from your shoulder and crash your lips back onto to his. you swallow his moans as best you can, tongues fight for dominance, but he lets out a deep groan, and lets you win. you bite down on his bottom lip just as you reach your climax, causing him to let out a deep groan once more.
you gasp when he suddenly flips you over, pulls out of you and stokes himself a few times before painting your body with his release. coriolanus all but collapses on the bed beside you. you're both breathing heavily for a few moments, on your backs looking up at the ceiling, before he turns on his side towards you. coriolanus trails hs fingers down to your abdomen, sticky with his cum.
"i told you: snow lands on top."
"was that a joke, coryo?" you guffaw, genuinely surprised at the mischievous but playful glint in his eye. a bit surprised at yourself, too, for using his nickname that you'd so carefully avoided. you had to remind yourself that he was still the same coriolanus snow you'd grown to hate.
the boy tangled in the sheets beside you, his messy curls translucent under the light of your chandelier, his skin glowing with sweat and decorated with lipstick and rose-petal bruises. the boy who now smiles at you with dazzling blue eyes, leans closer and whispers:
"don't get used to it. it's a special occasion." coriolanus kisses you sweetly, and you shiver before he adds: "happy birthday."
this boy in bed with you now is the same manipulative, power hungry snake who would stab you in the back if need be. and, the truth of the matter is: you aren't much different, either.
you get up to grab his wine-stained shirt, use it to wipe off his release and toss it back down to the floor.
his eyes follow you the entire time, even as you come back to straddle him again. almost instantly, you feel him harden underneath you. you hold his head in your hands, kiss him deeply, tease his bottom lip between your teeth as you pull away.
"snow lands on top, huh? not for long, if i can help it."
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landosjpg · 1 month
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cowboy like me | ln
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the one where you unexpectedly fall in love with someone just like you, but it doesn’t turn out as you expected.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~1.8k
warnings: strangers to lovers to strangers again (lando is a player lol), smut (MINORS DNI), slight choking, spit, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this), a little of praise, the tiniest bif of fluff, angst in the end
please tell me if i'm forgetting anything!
note: hi, hello, i'm back! this took me way longer than i had intended but i went through a little writer's block and found myself staring at my screen for hours without writing a single word. this being said, not my proudest work but at least we're getting somewhere. this is the last part of this series i started a few weeks ago, it's not proofread but hope you enjoy it!
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very much against your will, your dad had dragged you with him to the annual christmas dinner that he and some old friends of his had been planning for weeks. he had promised you would leave early, but of course it was only a white lie so you would put up with it without much complaint.
that's how you found yourself sitting all alone in a small bench in the corner of the crowded bar, trying your best to ignore everything that was going around you, a little overwhelmed. you barely knew your dad's friends, and since he was busy entertaining some of them, you had decided to just get away from all of it for as long as possible.
"mind if i sit there?" a masculine voice took you back to reality, making you look up from where you were scrolling on your phone.
you quickly recognized him: lando norris, the son of one of your dad's old classmates. your dad had mentioned him once or twice, but you didn't really know much about him.
uninterested, you shrugged and scooped a little to the side to leave some room for him to sit. he did so, sighing as you went back to your phone when silence fell hard between you two, his back resting against the bench and his eyes scanning the crowd.
"want to dance?" lando broke the silence after a few minutes, and you felt his eyes on you. you cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised with his question. your eyes went back to the crowd when you noticed that the music was louder than before; everyone had a drink in their hands and while some people engaged in conversation, others swinged to the rhythm of the music.
"you don't actually want to dance," you finally answered with a roll of your eyes and a low chuckle.
"come on, don't be boring!" he insisted, standing up and offering you his hand with a smirk. you considered turning him down again, but ended up accepting his offer with a sigh, if you were gonna be forced to attend that stupid dinner, you might as well enjoy yourself for a while.
you took his hand in yours and he pulled you up before quickly guiding you to the crowd.
୨୧
only about an hour later, you found yourself in the elevator to his apartment, your body pressed to the mirror as his hands rested on your lower back and your arms wrapped around his neck while you exchanged hungry, desperate kisses.
after a few dances and some small talk, his lips had found the spot right under your ear as he whispered how gorgeous you looked in that dress. he was quick to suggest calling a taxi, and you nodded in agreement without even having time to think about it.
just one night, no strings attached. you both wanted the same thing.
he guided you through the corridor to his apartment the second the elevator's doors opened, his hands holding your hips as you walked backwards. he pressed you against the door, lips still locked as he looked for his keys in the pockets of his jeans.
as he opened the door, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you against him. he ushered you inside, quickly trapping your body once again between him and the wall of his entryway. his hands traveled down from your waist to your ass as he attacked your lips again, making you whimper when he gave you a gentle squeeze.
his fingers slipped down to the back of your thighs, where he softly patted your skin over your dress, instructing you to jump. you immediately complied, legs wrapping around his waist while his hands cupped your ass, pulling your dress up so he could feel the warmth of your skin.
lando softly groaned against your lips when your fingers found their way to his hair and tugged on it softly. he pressed his body closer to yours, leaving no space between you two and making you feel his hardness against your thigh now that your dress was pooling at your hips.
"fuck," you mumbled, clenching around nothing.
"can't wait to be inside you," he whispered in between kisses, making you whimper as you felt one of his hands sliding between your legs, fingers pulling your underwear to the side.
he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to look at your eyes as he coated two of his digits in your arousal before sliding them inside your pussy. your eyes fluttered close almost immediately, another sigh leaving your lips as your walls enveloped him perfectly.
"eyes on me, baby. wanna see those pretty eyes," his voice was low, his breath against your lips making you try to grind down on his palm.
you obeyed once again, looking at him through half-lidded eyes as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, teasingly. one of your hands cupped his cheek as you admired his features, your eyes finally locking into his green orbs, the intensity on his gaze making you clench around his digits.
"feels so good," you panted, trying to keep your eyes open as you held yourself on his neck. "need more," you added, biting your lower lip to hold back a louder moan as you felt him curl his fingers inside of you.
"impatient, are we, baby?" he asked with a chuckle.
"please, lando," you panted, your voice sounding weaker than you intended. at your plea, you felt him withdrawing his fingers from your core and bringing them to your mouth.
he gently tapped on your bottom lip, prying you to open your mouth for him. your lips parted slowly and he didn't waste any time to slide his fingers inside, making you taste yourself on him. you softly hummed and felt your eyelids finally giving up as you sucked on his fingers eagerly.
"good girl," he murmured, pulling his digits out againt and slowly moving to undo his jeans.
as he still held you against the wall, his pants and underwear pooling at his feet, he spat on his hand before stroking his cock a couple of times, his eyes on your face as you looked down at him. he tapped on your chin so you would look at him as he positioned himself at your entrance, the pink flush on your cheeks bringing a smile to his face as he started pushing inside of you slowly, both of you moaning in unison as you enveloped his whole length.
he pushed you further into the wall for added support, one of his hands on your hip and the other resting on the wall. lando found the spot between your jaw and your collarbone and hid his face as he bottomed out, a muffled grunt leaving his lips as he felt you clenching around him already.
he let you adjust to his size for a few seconds before starting to roll his hips into yours slowly, starting to pick up the pace as he left small, wet kisses on your neck and up to your jaw.
"fuck, baby, taking me so well," he panted when his lips reached yours, swallowing a moan from your throat as he licked into your mouth.
one of his hands slid between your legs, fingertips finding your clit and lazily starting to play with it as he fucked you. the added stimulation had you rolling your eyes back, your fists holding his shirt as he pushed you against the wall again and again, his lips muffling the filthy sounds coming out of your mouth.
"oh my god," you whined, feeling his thrust become harder and his cock reaching even deeper inside you, your hands finding their way under his shirt so your nails could dig on his lower back, urging him closer.
you felt his hand creeping up from your pussy to your neck, fingers circling around your throat and applying a slight pressure on the sides of your neck, making you throw your head back against the wall with a loud mewl.
"'m close," you managed to choke out in between pants, feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap when his grip on you became tighter, fingers bruising your delicate skin.
his thrusts became sloppier, breath heaview as his low, raspy moans sent you over the edge. your body tensed up and your pussy clenched around him as you cried out.
the tight grip on his cock was enough for lando to spill inside you only a few seconds later, thrusts lazy as he rode both of your orgasms out. he finally let go of your throat as you panted into each other's mouths, his hands now holding your shaking legs around his hips.
he slowly let go of you, placing you back on your feet tenderly. he helped you get out of your dress, and walked you to his bathroom to get you cleaned. the nice gestures took you by surprise, you had never had a guy seem to care like that.
not that you had really wanted it either, but when he guided you to his bed, covered both your bodies with a blanket and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, you couldn't help a smile from creeping up to your lips.
and it wasn't what you had promised before leaving the bar during the christmas dinner, but you found your way back to his bed only a few days later. and inevitably, you did again the very next week. it felt different this time, falling for someone. he cared, he made sure to make you feel loved every single day for a little over two months.
but when he had to leave again for pre-season testing, you felt everything crumbling when you caught yourself checking your phone for the tenth time that minute, in hopes that his name would pop on your screen again.
you looked at the last text you sent him, asking if he had landed already. only for it to not get delivered.
you knew he had. you had seen pictures of him at the airport posted by fans on social media hours ago. you sighed as you realized that he had, most likely, blocked your number, not wanting to do anything with you anymore.
and you should've expected it, you had heard stories about his ways of playing around. but for a few months, you had believed he could be the one for you.
you felt stupid, heart-broken even. you had fallen head over heels for him, and now all you knew is you would never be able to love anyone like you had loved him again.
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.
Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse
Length: 8000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge
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You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California. 
"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"
You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."
"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"
You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.
She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.
When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand. 
But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.
"Mommy!"
You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.
------------------------
"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."
"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for. 
"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air. 
"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"
"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."
"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.
Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction. 
"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it. 
"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.
But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.
Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."
Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."
"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."
But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"
You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."
"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"
Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."
"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes. 
"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."
She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."
Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."
"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"
Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.
"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."
You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."
Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"
This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink." 
Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."
Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."
"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"
"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."
She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"
"What grade are you in?"
"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.
"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"
"Pandas!" 
"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."
"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."
Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"
She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why. 
"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately. 
"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look. 
"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."
"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"
"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."
"Fuck," Jake groaned. 
"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered. 
"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.
"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.
"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears. 
"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him. 
"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically. 
"Really, feel free to tell her no."
But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."
"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.
"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled. 
"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."
Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character. 
"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"
Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."
"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb. 
"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets." 
Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"
"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."
"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."
She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"
He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"
"Yeah!  A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."
Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"
Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."
"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"
"A boyfriend."
His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"
She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."
Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"
"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s
------------------------------
You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head. 
"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time. 
"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet. 
"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words. 
"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.
"Yeah... he seems pretty great."
But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?
You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize. 
Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.
You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip." 
You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.
I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!
And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.
Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!
"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.
But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.
You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.
You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig. 
You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?
------------------------
Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees. 
Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?
He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet. 
Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.
You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree. 
Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!
Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again. 
But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?
He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone. 
Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.
You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response. 
I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.
"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.
Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.
Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan. 
On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.
Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile. 
"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs. 
"Santa!"
He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him. 
"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"
You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."
"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.
She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"
"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."
You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"
"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring. 
"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand. 
"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."
Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.
"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him. 
He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."
When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."
"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."
Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"
"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside. 
--------------------------
You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down. 
"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him. 
"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared. 
California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid. 
You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred. 
And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa. 
"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.
After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately. 
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.
You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."
But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.
I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.
You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to. 
You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.
"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."
But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.
You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...
You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.
-------------------------
Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco. 
He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place. 
The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him. 
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."
You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding. 
"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."
You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you." 
"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."
You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."
Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."
"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."
He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind. 
Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs. 
"I made you some hot chocolate." 
Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"
"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him. 
"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."
"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.
Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"
Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."
"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?
"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."
"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box. 
You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"
"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer. 
"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."
He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."
"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."
"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him. 
You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."
He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."
"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him. 
"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."
You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."
Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus. 
But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."
You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach. 
When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it. 
"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."
"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."
"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"
"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"
You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."
Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked. 
"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"
Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."
"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.
He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."
You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."
Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."
You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."
Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."
"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."
He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."
When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.
"Hey, Santa?"
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding. 
You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."
"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.
"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.
He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"
"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped. 
"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."
"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today. 
When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."
"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours. 
"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."
He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."
"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."
Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck. 
The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his. 
And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper. 
"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses. 
Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"
-----------------------------
Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27
PART 2
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971 notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 9 months
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prophylaxis
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Summary: The most powerful Avenger is afraid of one thing: dental appointments, or the one where you're a dentist and Wanda is a baby about seeing one
Word count: 2.6k | Warnings: None. This is just good ol' fluff
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Author's note: This has been sitting in my drafts for some time, and while this is a one shot, I might follow up with more :)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Next part: the follow up
--
Steve and Natasha are barely done with their own routine dental check-ups when the notification of an emergency mission comes through. The Avengers' annual dental visit is typically swift and uncomplicated, but the arrival of their urgent mission turns the day into something far more chaotic.
“Where is Wanda?” Steve asks, scrolling through the mission details on his phone.
Natasha shrugs, sipping on her post-check-up glass of scotch. “I haven't seen her since breakfast.”
Vision appears in the room at that moment, his face expressing the closest thing to exasperation an android can manage. “She’s only now on the chair,” he says, glancing at Steve, whose eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Now? But everyone else is done!”
“I had to convince her to come,” Vision sighs. “I found her hiding in the back library. It took me the better part of an hour to persuade her to face the dentist.”
Natasha rolls her eyes at the revelation, trying to suppress her chuckle. The most powerful Avenger, avoiding a simple dental prophylaxis. “We don't have all day, Steve. The mission is critical.”
Steve nods, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We'll leave a note for her. She should meet us ASAP once she's done.”
Natasha gets up from her chair, glancing one last time at Vision, as she quips, “Good luck to whoever is the dentist working on her this year.”
As you approach the dental chair, you take note of the apprehensive figure occupying it. You've already seen a dozen Avengers today, each with their unique quirks and idiosyncrasies. 
But Wanda Maximoff, her gaze filled with clear distaste for the situation, seems to take the cake. She's curled in on herself, making her seem smaller than she actually is. The sight of her alone would have been enough to unnerve you, but the intermittent quivers of your dental tools due to an unseen force send a cold shiver down your spine. You can't help but wonder if you've drawn the short straw when they assigned you the patients for today.
You try your best to project an air of calm. Inside, though, your nerves are jangling like alarm bells.
“Wanda, right?” you confirm, trying to keep your voice steady.
She nods, her eyes wide as saucers.
“I promise this won't hurt,” you reassure her, even as your tools continue to rattle on the tray. “It's just a routine check-up.”
A skeptical glance is thrown your way but it's at least some reaction. Her gaze is piercing, and it takes every bit of your collected facade to keep from faltering. An absurd thought flashes across your mind: if you were to meet an untimely demise in your line of duty today, who on earth would inherit the numerous houseplants that have taken over your apartment over the years?
With a nervous smile that Wanda can barely make out behind the surgical mask you wear, you gently ask, "Shall we begin?" Your tone is soothing, carefully modulated to put her at ease.
The poor Avenger takes a deep, long breath before giving you the go-ahead to proceed with the checkup. 
For her part, Wanda begins to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of your gloved fingers in her mouth. Her gaze settles on your oversized prescription glasses that lend an air of professional yet friendly vibe. And there’s something about the clean, familiar scent wafting off your white coat that comforts her more than she's willing to admit.
She can’t help it when her mind starts drawing comparisons with last year's dentist—a gruff, no-nonsense man whose hands always seemed cold and who lacked any bedside manner whatsoever. You, on the other hand, are like a breath of fresh air with your calming demeanor and reassuring approach. Wanda blushes at the thought that, admittedly, you’re kind of a nice upgrade.
You begin the examination with meticulous care, your movements deliberately gentle to assure Wanda of your sensitivity to her obvious anxiety. As you carefully check her teeth and gums, you're acutely aware of how much trust she's placing in you, despite her apparent discomfort.
Glancing into her eyes as you angle your dental mirror to inspect her molars, you're suddenly struck by the piercing green of her irises. Even under the harsh clinic lights, they appear incredibly vibrant. Framed by the dark eyeliner she wears, her eyes are sharp and arresting. They follow your every move, staring up at you with an intensity that causes your skin to perspire under your uniform.
You've dealt with many patients over the years, some with eyes equally as fascinating, but something about Wanda's gaze is different. It's as if she's not just watching you but reading you, understanding you in a way that makes you feel exposed.
Your focus starts to waver under her scrutiny, and that's when you notice something strange. The dental tools on the tray beside you begin to quiver more violently, vibrating with an unseen force. Your heart skips a beat, realization dawning on you that Wanda's powers are reacting to her nervousness.
But it's not just her nervousness; Wanda's face takes on a look of surprise, her eyes widening momentarily. You can almost feel her presence in your mind, a subtle brushing against your consciousness. 
She's read your thoughts, albeit accidentally. 
She knows how captivated you are by her eyes. 
Catching yourself, you quickly shift your thoughts to a safer topic–your plants. The vibrant green of Wanda's eyes morphs into the various shades of green gracing the leaves of your beloved indoor jungle. Your Monstera, your string of pearls, your peace lily–
And yet, none of them are a match for the pair of green orbs that your mind keeps going back to. A flush of embarrassment creeps up your neck as you meet her gaze, the unspoken understanding between you making the air in the room feel charged. Wanda's cheeks take on a hint of color, and her control over her powers seems to falter, your tools–and a chair behind Wanda–now levitating a couple of inches from where they originally sat.
“I'm sorry,” she stammers, wide-eyed and apologetic. You barely make out what she’s saying with her mouth still wide open. “I didn't mean to…”
“It's okay,” you reply in a comforting murmur, pausing your examination. The room fills with the soft humming of the overhead light and the subtle scent of sterilized equipment. “I'm here with you. We'll go at your pace. Just breathe.”
Giving Wanda a few moments to calm herself, you pull back, placing the dental tools on the tray beside you. You keep your eyes on Wanda, a soothing smile hidden behind your mask. Her chest rises and falls steadily as she follows your instructions, taking deep, calming breaths.
However, you can't help but glance at the floating items around you, fearing that one of them might go straight for your heart that’s thudding loudly in your ears now. They seem to be suspended in mid-air, almost like a magic trick. Wanda catches your gaze, following it to the levitating objects. The already present color on her cheeks darken, and with a flicker of her gaze, your tools reintroduce themselves to gravity once again.
You don't comment on it. Instead, you simply offer another encouraging smile, masked by your surgical mask, but visible in your eyes. You extend your gloved hand towards the once again earthbound dental tools, feeling the cool metal against your palm. 
“Are we good to proceed?” you ask in a soft voice, patiently waiting for her agreement before picking up where you left off. 
Wanda doesn’t move, seemingly hesitant to say yes or no.
“Will it help if I talk to you?” 
She gives you a small nod in response this time.
“Alright,” you say with a hint of a chuckle. “Don't judge me if I start to sound silly, okay?”
And so you start to speak as you get back to work, recounting random memories and thoughts as you continue with the examination. You talk about funny incidents at work, share stories about your beloved plants, and even admit to that time you almost killed your favorite fern with coffee instead of water. At first, you feel slightly ridiculous, babbling about the care of succulents to an Avenger, one of the most powerful beings on the planet. But as the minutes tick by, you see a change in her. The initial terror in her eyes fades into curiosity, her body relaxes, and she even smiles at some of your sillier anecdotes.
You get lost in talking to Wanda, feeling both delighted and somewhat ridiculous that you're enjoying this one-sided conversation. You're fully aware that she can't respond with an excavator in her mouth, but it doesn't feel like she's just tolerating your chatter. Her eyes are attentive, following your movements, reacting every now and then. Her body language is open, receptive, almost as if she's hanging onto every word.
As for Wanda, something unexpected is happening. She finds herself liking your voice more and more, feeling an unfamiliar pull towards it. It's warm, comforting, and filled with a sincerity that she didn't expect. She even finds herself slightly attracted to it. But it's a foreign feeling, one she doesn't quite understand, especially in this setting.
As you conclude your examination, you realize that one of Wanda's molars needs a filling. It isn't urgent, a situation that could be deferred to another appointment if she wishes.
“Looks like you have a small cavity,” you inform her, meeting her eyes. “It's not of immediate concern, but we should schedule another appointment if you'd like to have it filled.”
To your surprise, Wanda agrees, not just with a polite nod, but with a subtle hint of anticipation lighting up her eyes. She agrees to another date, another round of you poking around her mouth with your scary dental tools. And yet, there's a hint of eagerness that surprises even her.
As you finish your work, you lean back, pulling off your surgical mask and gloves. For the first time, Wanda gets a full view of your face. It's like a silent reveal, one she hadn't been expecting, and it takes her aback.
She finds herself caught in a subtle admiration, a feeling that quickly intensifies as she takes in your features. There's something about your face that she finds herself drawn to, the warmth of your eyes, the curve of your lips, the soft contours of your cheekbones.
And when you smile, her breath hitches slightly. It's a simple gesture, but one that lights up your face, reaching your eyes and causing them to crinkle at the corners. It's genuine, open, and a little bit contagious.
“Thanks for your patience, Doctor...?” Wanda voices, feeling a tad awkward. It occurs to her belatedly that she didn't have the foresight to ask for your name before you started the check-up. 
“Just call me Y/N. It's my pleasure,” you reply, your smile deepening, unaware of the effect it's having on the Avenger before you. “I'll see you for that follow-up appointment, then?”
As soon as Wanda is escorted outside by Vision, you release a breath you didn't know you've been holding. Leaning against the counter, you try to calm the racing of your heart, which beats as if you've just run a marathon.
Wanda Maximoff is... quite a surprise. Her beauty, her vulnerability, the way she seemed to really listen to your inane chatter–it's all unexpected, disarming even. You find your mind drifting back to the way her eyes softened, the almost shy smile that graced her lips.
You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel these thoughts. This is unprofessional, you think. She's your patient. A patient who just happens to be one of the world's most powerful individuals. It's nothing more than that.
You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing you've spent more time with Wanda than any other patient today. You should be moving on to your paperwork, getting ready to call it a day.
But as you sit down at your desk, the fluttering feeling in your stomach doesn't subside, and Wanda Maximoff's haunting green eyes remain etched in your mind.
Walking down the corridors of the Avengers compound, Wanda finds herself in step with Vision. As they pass various agents and fellow Avengers, Vision turns to look at her.
“Wanda,” he starts, his voice taking on that concerned lilt that she's grown accustomed to. “I'm detecting unusual signs in your vitals. Your heart rate is elevated, your body temperature has slightly increased, and your pupils are dilated.”
Wanda blinks, feeling an unexpected heat crawl up her neck. Her palms are also feeling slightly clammy, and she has this weird fluttering sensation in her stomach. She tries to brush it off. It must have been the anxiety, right?
“Are you not feeling well?” Vision probes further, halting in his tracks to face her. His eyes scan her face, looking for any visible signs of discomfort. Wanda's mind races, trying to figure out how to downplay her seemingly irrational reaction to a denti–a dental appointment.
“No, Vision. I'm... I'm just fine.” Her voice sounds surprisingly steady to her own ears. She forces a smile onto her face, aiming to reassure her friend.
Vision doesn't seem fully convinced but doesn't push further. They resume their walk, but Wanda can't shake off the feeling that something has changed, something she doesn't quite understand yet. And for some reason, her thoughts keep drifting back to a certain dentist with a soothing voice, warm eyes, and a love for plants.
How did it happen that a dental appointment, of all things, has turned into the highlight of her day?
The kitchen is dimly lit when Vision enters, the only illumination coming from the withdrawn overhead lights. Natasha is there, assembling her favorite late-night snack, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She looks up as Vision approaches, her eyes curious.
“I trust the mission went well?” Vision inquires, noting the subtle signs of fatigue in Natasha's posture.
She offers a half-smile, nodding. “It did. It's all sorted now. How's Wanda after the check-up?”
Vision's eyes narrow slightly, and he hesitates for a moment before responding, “She is... well. The new dentist was quite effective in putting her at ease.”
Natasha smirks, spreading the jelly onto the bread with precision. “Told you a change would do the trick. I still can't believe you managed to convince Tony to switch dentists.”
“And find the perfect replacement,” Natasha adds after some thought, licking the jelly from the knife.
“It was a logical choice. The previous dentist was less than satisfactory, particularly with Wanda.” He pauses, considering something. “But this one... she seemed to have a rather profound effect on her.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow, looking up from her sandwich. “Profound effect?”
“Yes,” Vision says thoughtfully. “I detected unusual signs in her vitals afterward. Increased heart rate, heightened body temperature, a certain... excitement in her demeanor. It was quite unexpected.”
Natasha's eyes widen slightly, and a mischievous smile begins to form on her lips. “You don't say?”
Vision gazes at the digital interface on his palm, a soft hum of approval in his voice. “Indeed, she has also filed for a leave of absence a week from now. She has another dental appointment, but this time at the doctor’s private clinic.”
Natasha pauses, her sandwich halfway to her mouth. 
Vision meets her gaze, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Do you think it could mean something?"
Natasha shrugs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Who knows, Vis?” she says, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. “Maybe it's just a good dentist.” And then with a wink and a knowing smile, she adds, “Or maybe…”
She leaves the thought hanging, deliberately ambiguous, and exits the room, her satisfied crunching echoing down the hallway.
Vision is left standing in the kitchen, confusion etched across his synthetic features. He considers the day's events, attempting to analyze how Wanda suddenly managed to conquer her most irrational fear.
Humans really are something.
1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 9 months
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🌞 Just Hanging Out 🌞
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Genre: Fluff, suggestive MINORS DNI 18+
WC: 3k
Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.
Warnings: reader is a tease, shy Spencer, sexual arousal (M and F) no physical smut (god I wish we still used the citrus system).
A/N: Here's my second entry to @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge! Thanks to everyone who helped my pick the plot for this one :) I was also intending for this to be a reply to one of my requests for more BAU reader, but unfortunately tumblr deleted that request so 🤡 I'm tagging the account below anyways, and I have three more BAU reader fics coming in the next two weeks-ish, including my new series That's What You Get, so I hope you like this fic and be sure to look out for the others! Enjoy~
Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!
It was mid-August, and thankfully, the serial killers of America had given up crime for one week of the year to allow you to enjoy some much needed vacation time. The entire team had been put on annual leave, and you were determined to enjoy it to the absolute capacity of your ability.
Despite being together year-round, you actually enjoyed the company of your coworkers, so when Rossi announced he was planning a summer barbeque at his place to kick off your vacation time, you were ecstatic. If Rossi’s barbecuing skills were anything like his pasta making skills, you were expecting to eat yourself into a food coma and not wake up for the next seven days.
“Not a single one of you will touch this grill, stand within a 1 foot radius of this grill or even dare to look at this grill, so help me God, are we understood?” Rossi announced as soon as you arrived, the last of the BAU team to gather in his self-proclaimed mansion. The gardens were beautiful, and the kids were already running riot on the slip and slide that he had set up for them, screaming and giggling in delight.
“Trust me, you’re not getting me near that thing today, Rossi,” you laugh as you pour yourself a glass of wine from the refreshments table. “Last time I was anywhere near a grill I almost died.”
“I don’t remember encountering any unsubs who used grills as their weapon of choice,” JJ laughed at you as she held out her own glass and you gladly filled it for her.
“That’s because it wasn’t on a case, it was a family barbeque when I was 17 and my grandfather thought I should learn some ‘practical skills,’” you shot a grin at her as she rolled her eyes at you and walked away.
You grabbed your glass and looked for somewhere to perch yourself while you took in the sun. Morgan and Prentiss had already grabbed the two sun-loungers on the patio and were both sitting shirtless (with a bikini top on in Prentiss’s case) taking in as much sun as they could. Garcia was similarly sprawled on the deck sofa, and JJ joined her their after grabbing her refreshment, Will stood by the edge of the deck watching over the kids. Hotch had the amazing foresight to bring his own camping chair, and was set up similarly with one eye on Jack and the other on a book in his hand.
And just where you were expecting him, Spencer Reid was stood awkwardly at the edge of the house, in the only spot of shade he could find, leaning slightly against the door, and squinting into the sun.
“Rossi, you got any other chairs I can grab for me and Reid?” you called out to your host.
“There should be some over by the shed, they might need a bit of a dusting down though.”
“Come on pretty boy, you can’t just be standing all day, you’re going to make me feel tired just watching you,” you laughed up at him and caught the flush of his cheeks as he finally caught that you meant him to follow you.
“I’m really fine here over in the shade, I don’t do too great in the sun, anyways. More of an autumnal person, really…”
“I’d feel bad seeing you stand all day, and besides, what if I need a big, strong man to help me carry my chair over?” As he gaped his mouth open and closed looking for a retort, you felt the small flash of victory spread warm your chest. It wasn’t that you liked messing with Reid, it’s that he was an easy target and actually you loved it.
Having joined the team only the year prior, you’d quickly found the genius incredibly endearing, loving to listen to his little monologues about whatever topic had popped into his head that day, often earning groans from your other colleagues as you encouraged him to keep going.
You’d discovered your love of making him squirm a few months into the job, when you had to interrogate a submissive partner of an unsub together. After theorising that the submissive personality had a thing for women who looked like you, especially ones that were pretty dominant and controlling, you’d decided to give him what he wanted. You’d popped the top button, walked into the room and given him your best shot before having to re-strategize.
“What if we send Reid in there with her?” Morgan was the one to suggest, “Have him act a bit touchy, show him something he’s missing out on. We already tried giving him what he wanted, let’s see how he reacts to someone he doesn’t view as a threat getting everything he thinks he’s entitled to.”
It was a good guess, and it worked. You’d walked into the room, and let Reid start asking the questions. He’d gently laid a hand on your thigh, just high enough for the suspect to notice, and you’d done nothing but quietly whisper directly into his ear, watching the entire time to see how the man in front of you would react. He’d cracked in ten minutes and started spewing misogynistic drivel, so angry that he accidentally confessed to the crime and gave away his partner’s location.
It seemed Reid had cracked just a bit too. He’d avoided eye-contact with you for an entire week after that, and whenever he talked to you in that time, it was like his brain short-circuited. You’d bought a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to his knees with a few whispers in his ear, and you loved the rush of power you felt remembering it. The memory of his strong hand on your thigh did nothing to quell your growing attraction towards the man.
“If you wanted someone big and strong, you should’ve asked Morgan,” Reid snapped you out of your thoughts as he diligently followed you in the direction Rossi had pointed. It was a pretty secluded spot in the garden, a little bit away from the action and you were glad to be out of earshot so you could begin your teasing of the Good Doctor.
“I’m sure you’re big and strong in certain places, Spencer,” you smiled at him, and began looking at the chairs.
You spotted it in the corner, then, the perfect tool for your torment. It seemed relatively new, barely used but still pretty sturdy, and you knew this was it.
“Hey, Rossi, what about this hammock in the corner, can I set this up, too?” you shouted back over to the group and grinned up at Reid.
“Do you have a death wish? Because if so, go ahead and tangle with that devil.” Rossi shouted back, not even looking up from the miriad of sausages and burgers he was working on.
“That sounds like a challenge to me, Doc.” You say and you start pulling it out into the sunlight, Reid steps behind you sighing in defeat. He knew that once you had your mind set on something, you were pretty stubborn about completing it.
“Okay, can you give me a boost?” The bed of the hammock fell to about your chest height, and whilst you knew you were probably able to climb in by yourself, you were wearing a particularly short sundress, and as much as you teased Reid, you didn’t exactly want to give the rest of your team and their families an eyeful.
“You want me to try to lift you into this thing?” Reid squeaked out, a look of confusion passing over his features.
“Yeah, just grab my hips and give me a boost and I’ll swing my legs over and straddle it. Then we can see what’s it's like.” He moved cautiously up behind you, letting his hands graze your waist.
“Reid, you’re going to have to hold me a bit tighter than that if we’re actually going to get anywhere.” You placed your hands over his and pushed his grip down stronger; you could practically hear him gulp from behind you. He pushed you up, and you almost had it, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself up and into it.
After a few attempts, you realised it wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly pulling yourself out of Reid’s grip, you turned to face him.
“New plan, you get in first and pull me up.”
“What? I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing, didn’t you hear what Rossi said?”
“Come on Reid, just this once, for me? We have to try at least!” you pouted up at him now with pleading eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t have to resort to batting your eyelashes at him to get him to agree.
“One attempt, and then I’m grabbing a normal chair and leaving, okay?” He negotiated, but you didn’t care and excitedly wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in for a hug.
“Yay, thank you! I love you, Reid, you know that?” you pulled back slightly to deliver that last line, your arms still around his neck, watching the redness spread upto his cheeks.
He mumbled a quick whatever and pulled away to begin his attempts.
Perhaps it was his few extra inches of height or spindly frame, but Reid managed to climb up quite easily, not even rocking the hammock that much in his ascent.
He sat up pretty steadily, and you lifted your arms to him, and that’s when it all started going wrong. You’re combined weight wasn’t enough to break the hammock, but it was enough to set it off into an unsteady rocking that made your stomach lurch slightly. You swung your leg as best you could over Reid’s, already in the hammock, and as soon as you found some purchase there, he lowered one hand to pull your lower body up as well.
It was just unfortunate that the place his hand landed was directly over your ass, and you let out a sharp gasp as he grabbed it tightly and hauled you up to sit directly over him, chest to chest, practically straddling his entire body in the cramped space of the hammock bed.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I meant to grab your hip.” He tried to let go of you and push his hands up where you could see them, but the sudden movement made the hammock lurch dangerously so you snapped your hand over his and forced them back to their previous position.
“No sudden movements, Spencer, I don’t particularly want to be the butt of all jokes for the next year if we fall out of this thing.” You panicked slightly and squirmed a little in your position, trying to explore your range of movement.
“How are we going to get out of this if we can’t move?” he shot back at you, a look of mild discomfort on his face, and an I-told-you-so begging to escape his lips.
“If you just give me a minute to explore our options, maybe I would be able to figure that out.”
“If you keep squirming like that we’re going to have more problems than just how to get down,” he huffed under his breath, but he was so close that it was impossible for you to miss it.
It was your turn to blush now, as you caught his insinuation. With his hand firmly on your ass, and your legs either side of his, you could feel the entire length of his body below you. Each squirm you made the dampness between your legs pool a little bit more and then you in-turn squirmed even more in a vicious cycle.
After a few minutes, there was no denying that the thing prodding your core was Spencer’s sizable… appendage.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry, it’s just a natural reaction,” he groaned out from below you when he realised you could feel it too, and you’d never heard anything so beautiful as the moans he was accidentally vocalising.
“It’s my fault, I’m sorry for being so stubborn about this. Let me see if I can figure something else out,” you cautiously slid your hands up his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut. Pushing against his shoulders, you slowly pulled yourself up to a seated position, doing your best to not rock the hammock too much. The new position did nothing to dampen the friction the two of you were feeling, and you knew that you were a few seconds away from a point of no return. Your hips bucked slightly against him against your will, and you really hoped he hadn’t noticed that was totally not to the benefit of you getting out of the hammock.
You looked down to the ground so you could see how far the descent would be, and if you’d have to call for backup anytime soon. Luckily you thought you’d be able to make it if you just swung your legs over the side and got out as quickly as possible, but fate had other plans.
“Spencer, Y/N what are you two doing over here?” came Emily’s voice from behind you. Spencer’s eyes shot open and he pulled his head up slightly to look at her. However, his movement had rocked the hammock a little bit harder than before, so he had to grab your hip to steady the two of you, pushing you further down into him. You did your best to stifle the moan, biting down hard on your tongue as you did so.
“Oh you know, just hanging out,” he managed to get out in reply, his voice notably higher than it usually was.
“You sure you guys don’t need any help? That doesn’t look like the safest of chairs.” Emily’s questioning stare never lifted and you knew that if she caught wind of what was actually going on, you wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for an entire year. You couldn’t accept the help.
“Yeah, we were just going to climb down in a second, we’re just checking to see how… sturdy it is right now.”
“Sturdy. Right. Well, Rossi said the food would be ready to start serving in a few minutes and asked me to call you guys over.”
“We’ll be right there, thanks Emily.” You smiled at her and she made to walk away, a suspicious look still on her face.
“What do you mean we’ll be right there, I can’t go over there like this!” Spencer whisper yelled into your ears.
“What else was I supposed to say to get her to go away,” you whisper yelled back. You ran a free hand through your hair, and shifted again, your legs beginning to cramp up a little in the awkward position.
“Okay you get down, I’ll make a break for the bathroom, say all this moving around made me need to pee or something, and then we meet up again on the patio and pretend this never happened?” he said and you nodded quickly.
You began to lift your body weight up and remove your legs from the tangle you were stuck in, and that’s when the hammock reared it’s ugly head for the final time. As you lifted your leg slowly, you accidedntally got your foot stuck in the side of the fabric, and pinned there but still moving, the hammock toppled and spat both of you out unceremoniously.
Reid landed ontop of you with a hard thud. You let out a sweet curse, just as Reid pushed his body weight onto his hands, taking some of the pressure off of you after the fall. You stared up into his eyes as you realised you’d found yourself in yet another compromising situation and you deepeded to a scarlet red as you realised your sundress had blown up completely in your descent, and he was now neatly nestled in between your legs, with your damp underwear on display for him.
Looking down at you, he took a beat too long to react, and you squirmed under his gaze, feeling appropriately trapped, before he sprung up and offered you a hand up.
You took his hand and rearranged your dress, thankful that the smell of the food had distracted everyone from your embarrassing fall.
“Okay, we’re out.” You were flustered and you didn’t know what else to say.
“Yep, that was certainly one way to do it,” Reid replied, as you avoided his gaze. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and he made to do so similarly, trying his best to rearrange himself so the bulge in his pants wasn’t so noticeable.
“You should get to the bathroom.”
“You should get to the food.” He retorted and you finally made to move, but stopped yourself turning around quickly to face the man again.
“Before I go,” you said and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his mouth, feeling as giddy as a teenager braving her first kiss. You turned away just as fast and made your way back to the party, leaving a flustered and spluttering Reid behind as you made a beeline for the food.
“So, what’d you think of the hammock?” Rossi asked you as you began loading your plate up. You put on your best poker face and begged noone had noticed anything out of the ordinary.
“You were right. That thing is dangerous,” was your only response, and you retreated into the corner to finish your food. You sat there waiting eagerly for Reid to return, not just so you could be in his presence again and see how he was reacting to your kiss, but also so you could get the image of him dealing with his situation out of your mind.
It seemed that being a tease and working him up hadn’t quite ended so well for you that day.
You blamed the hammock.
---------------------------------------------------
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buckrecs · 1 year
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Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??
Fake Dating / Marriage
masterlist | req masterlist
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ONESHOT
Keeping Score by @all1e23
After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?
the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes
You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.
Suburbia by @wkemeup
Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.
where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow
when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal
Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine
Fake dating solves everything… right?
A Little Longer by @buckyalpine
It’s just a little lie.
Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes
After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.
annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes
“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”
Undercover by @buckysknifecollection
You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.
Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction
When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.
Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser
You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.
The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex
Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.
Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians
On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.
SERIES
The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13
You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.
Breaking The Rules by @redgillan
You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.
Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers
When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.
Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend
When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 
Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser
When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.
-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!
Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness
Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?
Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs
You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 
am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes
Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.
Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim
An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.
A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes
With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.
The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2
Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.
Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel
You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.
Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 months
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Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤
Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?
A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 
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I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”
Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?
A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 
I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 
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Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?
A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 
Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?
A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.
Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”
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Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?
A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!
Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”
Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?
A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”
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They're handing out patents for "inventions" that don't exist
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Today (Oct 16) I'm in Minneapolis, keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing. Thursday (Oct 19), I'm in Charleston, WV to give the 41st annual McCreight Lecture in the Humanities. And on Friday (Oct 20), I'm at Charleston's Taylor Books from 12h-14h.
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Patent trolls produce nothing except lawsuits. Unlike real capitalist enterprises, a patent troll does not “practice” the art in its patent portfolio — it seeks out productive enterprises that are making things that real people use, and then uses legal threats to extract rents from them.
One of the most prolific patent trolls of the twenty-first century is Landmark Technology, whose U.S. Patent №7,010,508 nominally covers virtually anything you might do in the course of operating an online business: having a homepage, letting a customer login to your site, or having pages where customers can view and order products.
Landmark shook down more than a thousand productive businesses for $65,000 license-fees it demanded on threat of a patent lawsuit.
But that reign of terror is almost certainly over. When Landmark tried to get $65,000 out of Binders.com, the victim’s owner, NAPCO, went to court to invalidate Landmark’s patent, which never should have issued.
A North Carolina court agreed, and killed Landmark’s patent. Landmark faces further punishments in Washington State, where the attorney general has sued the company for violating state consumer protection laws in a case that has been removed to federal court.
Landmark’s patent contains “means-plus-function” claims. These a rentier’s superweapon, in which a patent can lay a claim over an invention without inventing or describing it. These claims are almost entirely used in software patents, something that has been blessed by the Federal Circuit, America’s most authoritative patent court.
A means-plus-function patent lets an “inventor” patent something they don’t know how to do. If these patents applied to pharma, a company could get a patent on “an arrangement of atoms that cure cancer,” without specifying that arrangement of atoms. Anyone who actually did cure cancer would have to pay rent to the patent-holder.
-A Major Defeat For Technofeudalism: We euthanized some rentiers.
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My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!
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gurugirl · 7 months
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The Church Picnic
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priest!harry x subby!reader | soft dom!harry x bratty/sub!reader
Summary: Harry's pet is being being a nuisance at the church picnic so he takes matters into his own hands when she can't seem to behave. Roughly based off this request.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, religious mentions, smut, sex in a public place, sub/dom dynamic
Forgive Me, Father masterlist
“I need to be spanked, Father,” Y/n whispered into Harry’s ear as he placed food onto his paper plate.
It was the church’s annual picnic in the big park at the center of town. Most of the congregation was there, as well as people invited to join who might be interested in attending the church. It was a way to attract new church members, as well as something fun and laid back for regular members to enjoy with games, food, and a raffle.
The priest had been making his rounds, talking to everyone, greeting the new faces, and making sure things were running smoothly.
Y/n had helped set up with five other church members. She had gotten there early and helped direct the vendors to where they needed to be and figured out where tables and chairs and games would best be placed.
Harry looked down at Y/n who had her plush bottom lip bit into her mouth and shook his head with a sigh, “When we get home I’ll take care of you.”
She was used to being “taken care of” every morning before their day started. Well, before hers started generally. Harry was an early riser. Often he’d leave just as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and jog around the neighborhood for exercise while his pet was still in bed. Sometimes he’d come home and she was awake and waiting for him. Other times she’d still be in bed with blankets wrapped around her body.
Either way, they both got what they needed before they had to get into their tasks for the day.
Except for this morning. Harry had to leave early to go to the church before he could get to the park. He and the elders and leaders had some things to do as well as pray over the event before it began. So not only did he not get to have his regular morning workout, but he also didn’t get to enjoy his pet either.
“I need your hands on me now,” she pushed quietly with her words.
Harry turned from the table of food and began to walk away. He knew what she was doing. She often got like this. He imagined she was asking to be spanked because she she hadn't been given proper attention that morning. Or maybe she simply wanted a spanking and probably an orgasm. Either way, Harry couldn’t think about it too much because he was among his members and other leaders of the church.
Y/n casually followed behind him. Not bothering to try and keep up with his long-legged strides because she knew he was headed to a picnic table to sit and eat. She was confident that she was going to get her way.
Harry slid into the bench of the picnic table at the end across from Mr. and Mrs. Jeralds.
She slowed her steps when she saw who was next to.
The Jeralds.
She’d been avoiding them since the night after the prayer meeting when she was sure that they’d been caught with Harry calling her a good girl. So far nothing had come of that little oversight. The Jeralds either hadn’t actually heard or seen anything (in which case Y/n was relieved but perplexed because Harry had been so obvious with his hands on her neck, the way he’d been stood so close, and the words he spoke) or maybe… they just decided to not tell anyone. Y/n figured it was the latter because she’d seen the looks from Mrs. Jeralds’ end and noticed how her demeanor had changed around both herself and the priest.  Wondered if Mr. Jeralds had told her to keep quiet and not cause a scene.
Walking behind the Jeralds she kept her eyes on Harry to get his attention. When he looked up at her she tilted her head toward the pavilion and raised her brows at him. But he didn’t budge. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. And she, of course, wouldn't make this easy for him either.
He watched her pout and cross her arms over her chest as she sulked away. He was sure she wasn’t done with her little show. Would probably have to really keep her in check in front of everyone. He could tell she was in a mood. Though, he trusted she wouldn’t do anything to out their little secret she could get bratty with him.
Not long after Harry had finished his lunch he spotted Y/n talking to a young man who he’d never had the pleasure of meeting. So he approached the pair, not because he was jealous, but because he wanted to greet the new face.
Shaking the guy’s hand and introducing himself he learned that the man was Mrs. Jeralds’ cousin. The one she wanted Y/n to meet. He frowned at his pet as she put her hand on the young man’s shoulder, “And he’s working at that place downtown, Debrille,” she turned to look back at the guy, “You’ve gotta be so smart to be working there, Austin.” She spoke and Harry knew she was trying to make him jealous.
He watched the two talk for a moment, his pet’s hand never leaving the guy’s shoulder before interrupting, “It was nice to meet you, Austin. Y/n, I think Cheryl was asking for you back there. You should go see if she needs help.” He lied. A small little fib to get Y/n to move away from the handsome young man. He was not jealous of course. Just annoyed.
Y/n huffed and rolled her eyes at the priest (not within eyeshot of anyone) but deep down she was patting herself on the back for a job well done. She was wearing away at him.
After Y/n had helped the kids with the one-foot race and pairing them up she saw Harry speaking with an older gentleman and even though she knew it would be rude to interrupt she couldn’t help herself as her dirty thoughts and her needs were outweighing her good senses.
“Father, I need to ask you something if you don’t mind. It’s urgent.”
Harry squinted down at her and looked back to the man, excusing himself from their conversation. He followed her to a spot that she felt was private and looked up at him with eyes that told him what she wanted before she even said it. She knew when she rounded her eyes and made her voice breathy he had a hard time resisting her, “Father… I know you’re busy but the pavilion has a clean family bathroom with lots of space and a big bench. And I need you so bad. I’m not gonna be able to wait. Please.”
Harry looked around him and back down at his pet, “I told you to be patient.”
She shook her head, “I can’t be. I’m gonna explode. If you knew how wet I was right now… oh god…” she quietly moaned and lifted her fingers up to her neck where her pretty gold choker was, “I’m about to just go in there and take care of myself. It’ll only take five minutes. Less probably.”
Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, “You’re being a brat. You know I can’t–“
“You’ve fucked me in the rectory and in the confession box at the church before. Why not here?”
Harry clenched his jaw. She was trying his patience.
“Because if anyone sees us leaving the bathroom or going in together… and I because I said.”
She pouted smoothed her hands down her dress, “Gonna go in and take care of myself then,” she turned to walk away but Harry grasped the back of her arm, stopping her from taking another step.
“Fine. Go in and lock it behind yourself. I’ll be in there in five minutes with one knock at the door. You better not touch yourself either.”
Her pout instantly lifted as she smiled, “Ooh… thank you, Father!”
Harry didn’t know why he was giving in but he knew she wasn’t going to stop and if he knew that she was in that bathroom touching herself he’d have been a mess watching the pavilion until she emerged. He’d give her what she wanted but it wouldn’t be without consequences later.
When Y/n heard one knock on the door she hopped up from the bench and slowly opened the door for her lover.
Harry stepped in, closing and locking the door behind him.
“4 minutes is all you get. You better come in less. And later, you’ll be paying for this behavior. You are not getting off scot-free.”
Clapping her hands together she turned around before lifting her dress and pulling her panties down, “Spank me and fill me. Please, Father.”
Harry rolled his eyes but the reality was he was already hard thinking about how risky they were being and seeing her bare bottom, bruised and marked from his hands and the various paddles and instruments he’d used on her, he was aching to put himself out his own misery.
He guided her to the bench with his hands at her round bottom and swiftly undid his pants, pulling his cock out and then swatted her bum with a harsh smack.
She moaned and lifted one knee up to the bench, keeping her other foot flat on the floor, and leaned over to put her hands on the wall. With the slight spread of her thighs and the way she’d lifted her leg, he could see she was indeed already completely wet for him. Just as she said.
Harry gave her another heavy-handed smack before taking his cock in his hand and pressed it through her already-slick pussy lips, “Such a nasty thing. Walking around during a church function with your panties all wet for the priest.” And without further ado, he drove himself into her sodden cunt, dipping himself in nearly to the hilt. Her cheek smushed into the wall as she quietly gasped with a smile on her face.
Giving her bottom a few more slaps he slowly began to pull back before he thrust back in, this time until his hips were firm against her bottom, and she groaned lowly, “Yes, Father. I’ve been so nasty imagining your cock drilling into me and making me whole all morning long.”
Harry began to fuck into her pussy in quick and hard thrusts, his hand landing over her plump and marked bottom repeatedly with loud smacks.
He knew he could come in under four minutes if necessary. He just wasn’t so sure she could.
“Better come fast because I’m gonna finish and leave you here without an orgasm if you don’t. Either way, your punishment tonight will not be kind, pet.” He spoke as he slowed his thrusts and tugged her hair in his hand, yanking her neck back in the process.
Her fingers found her clit at his warning and he continued his punishing plunges. He was glad it was so loud outside because the sounds coming from inside the bathroom were lewd and sinful. Skin wetly smacking and hushed moans and gasps, Harry’s occasional grunt.
Harry’s thighs began to tremble as he pumped himself in and out quickly. He adjusted his cadence to slow down so he could really feel her pussy gripping every inch of him tightly and coating the length of his cock. He felt his balls tighten up against his body and Y/n could hear the moan falling from his chest, getting louder. She knew her priest was about to come.
“Give me your come, Father. Fuck it all into my pussy. Want all your creamy come inside of me,” she moaned her words as her fingers slid quickly over her clit and she felt the tingle of her orgasm approach.
“Fuck, pet! Fuck…” Harry panted as his cock throbbed and he watched the spectacle of his cock disappearing into his pet’s little wet pussy over and over again. He kept his hand in her hair, gripping hard as he had her face pushed into the wall.
When her stance stiffened and he felt her squeezing and pulsing around him he knew she was coming. Her mouth was dropped open, not a sound coming out, as he poured into her, rocking his hips into hers and then pressing in so his balls were tucked against her. He let go of her hair and held her bottom, draining himself into her and gasping as he did so.
When he’d recovered he issued her two more swats to each cheek and carefully pulled himself out so he didn’t drip his come or her arousal onto his pants.
She kept herself leaning against the wall as she caught her breath, ass still on display.
Harry watched his come leak from her and drip down her thighs. He leaned over her back and spoke darkly into her ear, “Clean yourself up and get back out there to help. You are not getting off easy with this behavior.” Another harsh swat to her bottom and he left her there in the family bathroom against the wall on the bench.
She smiled. She always got her way. And getting her way also included a severe punishment for being naughty. Exactly what she wanted. She had her priest wrapped around her finger.
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megalony · 7 months
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You Look Happy
This is an Eddie Diaz (911) imagine requested by a lovely anon, I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you all like it. Any other requests or feedback would be great.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway
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Summary: Eddie keeps his private life away from the team, leading them to think he's single. They all get a shock at the annual BBQ when he brings a few special people along.
Enjoy.
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"So, is everyone bringing someone on Friday?" Hen waved her fork in the air and glanced around the kitchen at her coworkers.
"I'm bringing Maddie along, she's excited to see everyone." Buck found himself a seat at the table and reached across the table for a slice of pizza.
It was the annual station cookout on Friday, they would have a BBQ going and everyone would be bringing a range of food, cakes and drinks along to make the day a big event. It was a chance for family to come and visit the station and see the team in their 'work habitat' as Bobby called it. They all needed any excuse they could get to have a party when their line of work wasn't always pleasant.
And everyone was encouraged to bring someone along, whether it was family or just a friend.
"Hmm, no special lady for you then?"
"There might be," A smirk started to form on Buck's lips and he glanced over at Eddie with a raised brow like it was a competition. "But it's too soon to bring her along to the station and meet everyone." He didn't want to push things too far, not yet when they were only just starting to go out on proper dates. Meeting the team Buck classed as his family would be a step too far too soon.
"What about you Eddie, do you finally have a lady to introduce us to?" Hen poked her tongue between her teeth, showing off a smile as Eddie looked up from his glass, suddenly realising he was being pulled into this conversation.
He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and a splash of colour coating his skin just from the thought of bringing his special someone along to the cookout.
"The bachelor over here who lives at the station?" Buck turned around in his chair to look behind him at the coworker he classed as one of his best friends but his smirk dropped when he took in Eddie's stoic expression. "What, do you actually have someone in mind to bring?"
Eddie's lips pursed to the side and his jaw tightened just a little but after taking a deep breath, he managed a small smile to try and lighten his own mood. He didn't realise all of the team were in agreement that he was single. Although that was probably his own fault for keeping his life so shut off from the rest of them, but still, Eddie never denied it when they used to say he probably had someone waiting at home for him. It wasn't a secret.
It was a tough transition from the army into the fire department, Eddie was so used to keeping his life private because talking about his family when he was thousands of miles away from them only dampened his mood and brought him down. And he couldn't bring himself to put his wedding ring back on his finger after having it on a chain around his neck for so long.
It was always safer to have his ring tucked away beneath his uniform and in the dead of night when he was out on watch or he couldn't sleep, he would curl it in his fist and indent the shape into the palm of his hand. Eddie couldn't sleep if the ring wasn't around his neck, the small weight on his chest was a comfort he had grown used to.
But Buck had seen him leaving the showers and changing into his uniform hundreds of times, he thought his friend would have noticed the ring around his neck. He thought Buck knew but was just being respectful of his privacy.
"I have some family here in LA that can come along,"
Eddie took a swig of his drink and rested his hand on the counter, smiling around the rim of his glass. The team knew most of his family was back in Texas, his parents, his sisters and their families, a few of his aunts and uncles but he still had two aunts here in LA, plus the family his team didn't know about.
Part of Eddie wasn't sure if he would make it here in LA, if he would like the transition or get used to being here. It was why he kept himself so closed off from the rest of the team, he didn't want to get close if he was going to head back to Texas.
But it had been a year since he started at the station and he knew without a doubt that this was where he wanted to be and all of his family had adjusted to being here. They were here to stay. It was about time he let the team meet his family, after all, the team were like a second family to Eddie. He spent most of his time here with them and they were all important to him. It was time he merged both worlds together.
"That's great, you know you can bring anyone along. Siblings, nieces or nephews or friends, everyone's welcome." Bobby patted Eddie's shoulder as he passed him but his words didn't comfort Eddie as much as they unnerved him. Even Bobby didn't think Eddie had anyone special here, he was under the same impression that Eddie was a single guy who willingly spent all his time here at the station.
He was doing the extra shifts for the money, not the company or the thrill.
"Perfect," He was going to surprise them all.
***
A smile formed on Eddie's lips and he tried to balance his weight on his heels and keep his steps as light as possible so he couldn't be heard traipsing through into the kitchen. He'd already kicked off his boots the moment he walked in the door which gave him the advantage of being quieter.
He passed through the doorway into the kitchen where the radio was playing softly in the background, helping to cover up the sound of him returning home.
His sights set on the one person he was hoping to surprise and while she had her back facing him, Eddie picked up the pace and he seemed to time it perfectly right. Just as (Y/n) turned around, Eddie pounced and wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet in a split second. His smile broadened into a grin when she shrieked and he spun round on his heels as he felt (Y/n)'s arms deadlock around his neck and her face bury into his shoulder.
"Eddie!" (Y/n) swatted her hand down on his back and breathed his name into his neck but she could already feel him laughing against her before he kissed the side of her head.
He was always one for surprising her.
"You'll give me a heart attack one day," (Y/n) mumbled the words into his shoulder but she couldn't hold back a smile. Her arms tightened around his neck when he carefully set her back down on her feet and she could feel his hands roaming around her back and hips before he settled on cupping her stomach instead. "Oh, that's why you scared me is it?"
"What?" Eddie kept his head nuzzled against hers until (Y/n) cupped his face and tilted his head back so he could look down at her and he took the liberty of resting his temple against hers. He had a very innocent expression on his face but the way his eyes gleamed and his pupils started to expand gave away everything. And when his lips curved up and he flashed his teeth, (Y/n) couldn't help but laugh.
"You forget just how well I know you, Mr Diaz. You scared me to wake her up."
(Y/n) let her hands move down from cupping his cheeks to rub up and down his shoulders as he threw his head back to let out a hearty laugh. He had been rumbled.
Every time when Eddie was around and (Y/n) started to feel some movement from the baby, Eddie was there with his hands roaming her stomach only to find that their girl had settled back down. It was like she was teasing him and he didn't like it, he wanted to be there for everything, he didn't want to miss a thing and he loved to feel her kick more than anything.
Eddie just so happened to realise that whenever he snook up on (Y/n) or gave her a little jump scare which he was prone to doing, the baby woke up and she would wriggle and kick up a storm. If Eddie got (Y/n)'s heart racing, he could hold her stomach like he was doing now and he wouldn't miss a thing.
"Ah, you caught me, but I was right. See, she knows it's me." He continued to smooth his hands up and down her stomach while he pressed a kiss to her forehead and rested his lips there for a while.
"Did you have a good day?"
"Not too bad all things considered. Do you have plans for Friday?"
Adrenaline sparked in (Y/n)'s stomach when Eddie's hands moved to caress her hips and he walked her back until her hips bumped against the kitchen counter and he had her caged in. He stepped closer until he was practically stood between her legs, their hips and chests merged together and his forehead tipped down until it was resting on hers. His hands moved from her hips to rest on the counter either side of her, caging her beneath him like his prey and it sent her knees wobbling in the best possible way.
She tightened her hands on his biceps before she moved her palms to smooth her hands and fingertips up and down over his chest. It was something she knew drove him crazy and she could feel each breath becoming deeper and steady beneath her fingers.
"No, I don't think so. Why, what did you have in mind?"
"We're having a family day at the station in the afternoon, there will be a BBQ and Cap said we can bring anyone along. Fancy joining me with Christopher?" Eddie glanced his eyes down to (Y/n)'s lips as he spoke and subconsciously licked his own lips before he looked back up to her eyes.
"It sounds lovely… what's that look for?" (Y/n) rubbed her thumb across his chin and up along his jaw.
She knew that look in his eyes and the way his lips twitched up on one side like a slanted smile. It wasn't a bad or worried look but it was something different to excitement or happiness, he looked apprehensive.
"No one's expecting me to bring anyone,"
(Y/n) wasn't surprised. She knew Eddie like the back of her hand and he was a very closed off, private person. He could joke around at work and have a laugh and get to know people, but letting them into his life was much different and it was harder than it seemed. But Eddie was ready to let everyone in now, he knew they weren't the kind of people who would hurt him or turn on him, they were a new family and he wanted them in every aspect of his life.
Eddie kept his eyes on (Y/n)'s lips for a few seconds until she cupped his face in her hands again and brought him closer so their noses brushed together. But it was her smile that made his heart skip a beat and his eyes creased from the wide smile that spread across his face when she kissed the corner of his mouth.
"We'll just have to show them how loved you are then, won't we?"
He brought his hands up to cup hers before he leaned forward to press a feverish kiss on her lips. His fingertips itched and tapped against her hands and he shifted between her legs with a buzz of energy. He would have kissed her deeper, harsher, quicker. He would have lifted her up off her feet again and spun her round or sat her high on the kitchen counter if a certain voice didn't stop him in his tracks.
"Daddy, you're home!"
***
"Are we here?"
"Yep, this is where daddy works," A small bubble of anxiety dwelled in (Y/n)'s stomach when she approached the fire station looming ahead of them.
The only time (Y/n) had been here was when she had dropped Eddie off and picked him up from shift when his car was in the garage. She had never actually been inside and seen what it looked like on the other side. It loomed large like a beacon in society.
Where was she supposed to go? Did she have to sign in or let someone know she was here? Did they have a checklist or was anyone allowed to turn up unannounced? Eddie did say that anyone was allowed to be here and he had told everyone he was bringing someone but she knew he hadn't specified who was coming. He was going to surprise them and show them that he did have people waiting at home for him when his shift ended and his work like came to a finish.
(Y/n) unhooked her bag from her shoulder and looped it over the handlebar of Christopher's wheelchair that she was gripping so tightly her knuckles were almost popping through her skin.
Her eyes did another sweep over the pair of them, triple-checking that they looked okay to be here. Christopher had chosen himself a dark blue button up shirt and trousers and (Y/n) had gone with a floral yellow dress that looped up around her neck and came down just beneath her knees. It was one of the only dresses (Y/n) had that looked more sophisticated but also stretched enough to cover her six-month bump.
Clothes were starting to get snug at the moment and Eddie was coming home to find (Y/n) had confiscated a lot of his shirts and button ups since they fit her better than her own clothes.
The wide red doors that opened up for the trucks to get out were pinned open to let people flow in and out and (Y/n) could hear the music before they even got inside. And the atmosphere seemed to buzz through the air like speckles of sugar glistening all around the station.
"Are you ready?"
"Yep."
Smiling, (Y/n) reached down and ruffled his curls and looked down to make sure he was holding the two trays tightly. They had spent the morning baking cookies and a lemon cake which was Eddie's weakness and Christopher wouldn't let go of them all the way here.
Pinning a loose curl behind her ear, (Y/n) took a deep breath and pushed the chair forward into the station that was crowded with people moving about from all angles. Some were up high in the loft, leaning over and laughing and joking. Others were near the gym towards the right and people were dotted between the two trucks and the ambulance which had all been cleaned today by the looks of them.
Where was Eddie hiding? He had been here since eight this morning because he was technically on shift but he promised (Y/n) as soon as they arrived, he would be right beside her and he wouldn't leave unless he had to go out on a call.
She was sure the panic was written across her face when an older man approached them with a soft smile, bright eyes and broad shoulders.
"Hi, welcome, come on in. I'm Captain Nash but everyone calls me Bobby," He waved a hand over before both his hands moved to rest on his hips but he had a calming voice that made (Y/n) feel at ease. If everyone seemed as welcoming as him then this wouldn't be as daunting as she first thought.
"Hi, I'm (Y/n) and this is Christopher."
"We made cake!" He held the silver tray out for Bobby to see but it was clear he wasn't about to hand it over. He was proud and showing off what they had done but he was still protecting the treats they had made. He wouldn't put them down until he saw Eddie.
"Wow, thank you! Everyone here as a sweet tooth. Who are you here for and I'll go let them know you're here."
"Eddie, thank you," (Y/n) rung her hands together when Bobby raised a brow but his open mouthed expression quickly turned into a grin and he nodded. He waved them to follow him towards the buffet table where a lot of people were crowded round sharing jokes and playful taunts before he wandered off to find Eddie.
"Hey, look, someone made cookies!"
(Y/n)'s eyes darted over to a tall man who looked to be a little younger than Eddie, he had a broad smile and a playful aura about him that seemed to radiate to Christopher who smiled proudly. He crouched down beside the chair and folded his arms over on the armrest but his eyes were on the cookies Christopher was already trying to get the clingfilm off.
"Thanks, these look great," He kindly took the cookie he was offered and ate it in one, causing the eight-year-old to giggle happily. "I'm Evan, but everyone calls me Buck."
"Oh, you're Buck, Eddie talks about you a lot." (Y/n) smiled down at him before she leaned around the chair and carefully slipped her hands beneath Christopher's arms to pick him up from the chair. It was always easier to take him out in the wheelchair than make him walk too far on his crutches but (Y/n) knew he would be fine to walk and hobble round the station if he was slow and careful. "Why don't you put them on the table, baby?"
She took the lemon cake from him and put it on the chair so he wouldn't be carrying too much and he could focus on putting the cookies down on the buffet table across from them. When she turned back to Buck, he was stood up again, hands in his pockets and a curious smile on his face.
"He talks about us, does he? Are you his sister?"
Something flashed across (Y/n)'s eyes and she forced herself not to laugh, settling instead on a kind smile. Surely she didn't look related to Eddie? They weren't similar in looks or features or height and (Y/n) certainly didn't look like any of his big sisters.
"Hey Buck, who's this?" Hen appeared at his side, handing him over a drink before she turned towards (Y/n) with one of the brightest smiles she had seen before- other than Eddie and Christopher of course.
"There you are," Eddie's voice was unusually soft and quiet but he knew (Y/n) had heard him when he saw her head turn to the side to try and see where he was. It had been a tempting idea to sneak up behind her and give her a small jump like he had done the other day but he refrained because they were in public and he didn't want to embarrass her.
He walked up behind her and his hands instantly found their home on her waist, cradling her hips comfortingly through her dress that stood out to Eddie from a mile away. He knew as soon as he walked down the stairs that his wife, his girl, was the one in the yellow summer dress that had sequins sewn into the hem and her hair curled into ringlets, pinned to the back of her head.
His chest glued up against (Y/n)'s back and she could feel his deep breaths resonating through her, no doubt full of anticipation about introducing his family to his work family. But (Y/n) could feel how oddly calm Eddie was behind her and she found herself closing her eyes when he kissed the side of her head and leaned down to keep his lips smothered against her cheek for a few seconds.
"Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n). Sweetheart, this is Buck and Hen, and that's Chimney over there."
Something about the way their jaws dropped made Eddie grin against (Y/n)'s cheek and he could feel pins and needles tingling down to his fingertips. They were expecting his aunts to be his company today or some distant relative or just a new friend he made whilst living here. They weren't expecting him to be married or to have a child either.
"It's lovely to meet you," (Y/n) shook Hen's hand when she held it out but her eyes were narrowed in on Eddie and her lips were pressed together like she was waiting for an explanation.
No one would have made fun of him or commented if he told them he was married. He knew all about their love lives, or Buck's lack thereof and he had met Hen's wife Rachel before and her son Denny. But this was the first they were hearing of him having a family.
"Wife? So, so you're married?"
"That's generally what it means, Buck." Eddie pressed another kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek before he hovered his lips over her ear when he noticed the cake sitting on the vacant wheelchair in front of her. "You made my favourite," He whispered the words quietly against the shell of her ear, feeling her shiver against him which only made his grin broaden.
"Oh, so he's your boy?" Buck pointed across to the buffet table where Christopher was already making a dozen friends with anyone who was within his reach. But as soon as his head turned and his eyes landed on Eddie, he was clapping and making his way through the crowd to get back to his parents.
"You have a kid too?" Hen turned round to catch a glimpse of who Buck was pointing to. This day just kept getting better and better.
"Yeah, here's my boy."
"Daddy!"
Eddie unravelled one hand from (Y/n)'s hip and crouched down enough so that when Christopher hurried over to him with open arms, he could scoop him up. He curved his arm around his boy and effortlessly lifted him up in one arm and perched him on his hip while his other arm stayed around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping the two most important people close at hand.
"Shall we go cut this cake? I'm starving," He bounced Christopher on his hip before he kissed (Y/n)'s forehead and reached down to grab the lemon cake that was calling his name. "I won't be a minute," He mumbled quietly against her skin before he headed over towards the buffet where Bobby was starting to plate a few things up.
His arm nudged against Bobby when he went to cut the cake and he smiled up at his captain when he felt his boy nuzzling into the crook of his neck with a big smile.
"Do you know what you're having yet?"
"A little girl," Eddie knew it was a sensitive topic but he couldn't stop himself from grinning like the Cheshire cat even as he bit down on his lower lip to calm down his smile. He had his son in his arm and soon he was going to have a little girl to spoil and show off to the team. He was beyond excited.
"That's why you've been picking up the extra shifts?" Bobby kept his voice quiet so no one else would pick up on their conversation but he spoke with a smile and a calm tone. He wasn't being rude or insinuating, he knew better than most what it was like to keep your family to yourself and have something that the rest of the team didn't know about. But Bobby thought it was good that Eddie was opening up to them all, he had been with them long enough to be one of the team and be part of their family.
"Yeah, I'll need to put in for a few weeks off soon, thought I may as well do extra now while I can." He was going to be asking for time off in a few weeks because in just over two months he wanted to be home with (Y/n) ready for when she went into labour and then afterwards to help her at home with the baby.
Eddie knew it was the best idea to do overtime now while (Y/n) was pregnant so it wouldn't affect them when he had to take leave and be home with her. He wouldn't be able to take a lot of extra shifts after the baby was born, he knew (Y/n) would need him home with her.
"Good for you, you look happy."
"Oh I am Cap," Eddie let his eyes wander back over to (Y/n) who was smiling and laughing along with Buck who was trying to cautiously feel her stomach but it wasn't something he had ever done before. "I am."
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mochie85 · 4 months
Text
I'll Follow You
One Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist
Summary: You came back to the compound, a year later after you left to make your own career, and you are worried about meeting Loki with how things ended when you left. Pairing: Romantic!Loki x OC Female Reader (Foxglove is her Superhero alias.) Word Count: Over 5.3k Warnings: Explicit. Fluff. Angst. Smut. Oral (female receiving). Shadowplay. Hallucinations.
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Loki flipped through the magazine at a hurried pace, not looking at the photos or any of the articles. His hands needed something tactile to do. Or else, he feared, he might choke someone with them.
He paused when he saw an advertisement for a watch you were modeling for. There you were—a close-up of your beautiful face. Your eyes were bright and round. Your lips were dewy and sensual. Norns, he missed those lips. Especially when they were wrapped around his…
Ugh. Why can’t I stop thinking of her?! Loki snarled under his breath as he threw the magazine halfway across the room. It landed on the floor right by Sam’s feet. “You dropped this!” Sam said picking it up from the floor. He held it up in the air, not even looking, his attention fully absorbed on the TV screen.
Everyone had gathered to watch the talk show you were appearing on tonight. They couldn’t wait to see you come out and gossip about your life or inconsequential things. The entire team supported you in your decision to leave and start your acting career—everyone, except him.
Loki wanted to leave the room. He should’ve left and not agreed to come and watch the show with the others. He was about to stand up when-
“Shh. Shh. Guys quiet down. Here she is!” Wanda said shushing the entire room.  Loki watched the enormous television, enraptured. The camera panned over to the audience, their loud applause and cheers were deafening. Signs and pictures were held up from a time when you were an Avenger. He couldn’t help but sink further into his chair and get caught up with your grace once again.
“So, Foxglove- can I still call you Foxglove?” The host asked as you sat down.
“Of course, you can,” you beamed at the man behind the desk.
“I- I don’t know the protocol for these things. Do you get to keep the name even though you’re not an Avenger anymore?”
Your practiced laugh showed through your gritted teeth. “It doesn’t work exactly like that. Foxglove is the name I gave myself. I had it with me when I started with the Avengers and took it with me when I left. It wasn’t a title or anything.”
“And did they just let you leave? I would think it was like being in the mafia. ‘You know too many of our secrets. We can’t let you out alive!’ sorta thing,” the host said, thinking he was being clever.
“My friends and colleagues have all been supportive. And I remain in close contact with most of them.”
‘Most of them.’ That statement swirled the emotions Loki was feeling inside. He was not one of those who supported you and was very vocal about it. The fact that you still keep in contact with almost everyone here left him envious.
“And that’s actually part of the reason why I’m here tonight,” you continued. “My dear friend Tony, whom many of you know as Ironman- again, not a title…” you chuckled. “…Is throwing his annual charity gala this spring. This year he decided to make it a month-long occasion with different charities and events happening once a week culminating in the yearly gala at the end of the month.”
“That’s wonderful! That’s all he does when he’s not out saving the world, is party, huh?” the host said looking straight into the camera.
“Asshole!” Tony sassed under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the team.
“And what exactly is your part in this month-long event?” The host asked you.
“Well, I plan to raise money for The Nature Conservancy here in New York. I ask everyone to come and help us plant new trees or donate. Every dollar will be matched, and we can help restore some of the forests, in other parts of the country.”
“The Nature Conservancy is a special organization for you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s where I first worked. It’s where I first started noticing my powers.”
“Your powers are amazing! You can talk to plants!”
“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that,” you said with restraint. “Chlorokinesis allows me to excel a plant’s growth to a thousand times what they normally can. I can also enhance their natural defenses and abilities. And like my namesake, Foxglove, I can give you hallucinations when touched.”
“Can we get a demonstration?” the host asked to the cheers of his audience. You reached out to touch him “No, no, no!” he said nervously. “I don’t need any more hallucinations right now!” you both chuckled. “Thank you. But maybe you can make a flower grow?” he suggested, and the audience cheered you on.
“Sure, of course,” you smiled, happily. You rotated your wrists and flicked them around, gesturing for a plant to grow from the host’s wooden desk. The branches wrapped around itself forming a steady trunk. Soon the branches grew out further and further. Blooming wisterias in varying colors began to sprout, amazing the audience.
You used to be unstoppable. You used to tear down enemies left and right, numbing them with your visions before you cut them down and made them regret opposing you. Now you do party tricks for the camera so you can get a laugh from people who don’t care about you. Who didn’t even love you! Loki was furious.
Once again, Loki made to get up. He was almost through the exit of the room when he heard the next question that made him stop.
“So, Foxglove, will you be attending these events alone?” The audience ‘ooh’d’ at the question when the host decided to get a little more personal. “I heard you were cozying up to a certain superhero. Do you like those types? Do you have a type? What does Foxglove look for in a partner?”
You laughed embarrassedly. “These rumors! I swear they pair me up with someone new each week.”
“Oh, but you were seen leaving a nightclub with your costar, Superman himself, Henry Cavil.” The photo was put up on the screen. A picture of the two of you laughing in front of a busy club as Henry gingerly put his arm around your shoulders. The entire room of Avengers whooped and hollered cheering you on.
“We were celebrating. We had just wrapped our movie and it was my first time in London. So, Henry just wanted to show me around. Very friendly. All platonic.” You smiled, blushing. Loki noted that blush. I’ll break him like a twig!
“Ok. Ok. What about your former colleague, Loki of Asgard?” The host asked as a picture of the two of you replaced the one on the screen.
It was a photo taken when the two of you had gotten back from a mission. You had failed and cried about it on the flight back. Loki was wiping the tears from your face, trying to cheer you up. You didn’t know the PR department was there taking shots as all of you disembarked off the jet.
The camera cut back to you and you blushed harder. Once again, Loki noted that blush. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding and swallowed. Does she miss me too?
“Loki and I have remained good friends. I look forward to seeing him again,” you told the host.
Lies. Not a single word was exchanged between the two of you since you left. The last words you said to him were “I hate you! I never want to see you again!” Loki couldn’t detect any falsehood when you screamed those words at him. That hurt the most.
Everyone turned to where Loki was standing. Some, like Thor, were smiling. Mostly everyone else was shocked.
“What?!” Loki snapped back at them, making everyone turn back to the television.
“Oh! Did you hear that? She wants to see him again.” The host embarrassed you. Your powers grew erratic as a new sprout of branches grew from the tree.
The whole audience was eating it up, clapping. You tried to hide behind your hand, but the different cameras provided different angles of your mortification.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Foxglove, everybody!” The host said pointing towards you clapping. You laughed and waved at the audience as Wisteria petals fell from the ceiling.
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Weeks later, you sat in the back of a Maybach that Tony hired to chauffer you to the gala. This year it would be held at the compound which garnered more donations because everyone wanted to see inside the heavily guarded facility. Your intricate beaded dress fit you snuggly and covered you from shoulders to toe. It ensured that no one would accidentally come in contact with your skin. Especially with how crowded Tony’s parties got. The only wrinkle was from all the times you’ve grabbed it in anxiousness and wrung the fabric.
Why did I let Tony talk me into this?! I should’ve faked sick or something! What if Loki’s there? Of course, he’s there. Where else would he be? What if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if he has a date?! Maybe I should’ve invited Henry? No, no. He’d get the wrong idea. Just drop in, say your hellos, then leave. I don’t have to stay. I’m a grown adult. I can do what I want! FUCK! What if Loki comes and talks to me?
Once past the gates, the car crawled through a winding road with lanterns adorning the pathway. The car stopped at the front steps of the Avenger’s compound and you could hear the heavy bass of the music pounding through the car windows as bright lights and lasers littered the night sky.
You made your way through security to the massive, yet highly decorated, quinjet hangar and a sweeping staircase that descended to an impressive room below. You smiled, reminiscing about all the parties and events you attended as an Avenger- sweet memories that erased the worry you had when you were in the car. Picking up your gown, you gracefully descended the staircase. Keeping your eyes trained on the steps below, you tried not to look around, to look for him.
“Fox! I can’t believe you’re here!” Wanda shrieked as she ran up to you. She squeezed your sleeved arm and pressed her cheek on your shoulder.
“I’ve missed you, Wanda!” you said kissing the top of her hair.
“Come on. Everyone’s here- well, almost everyone,” she corrected herself. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Everyone wants to catch up.” She led you along to the bar where you were greeted by your former teammates. You were grateful that Loki wasn’t among them. He always loved these parties. You actively refused invites the past year just to avoid him. Awkward hugs and pleasantries were shared. Drinks were offered along with your first few dances promised to Sam and Wanda.
After hours of conversations with the team, and some drinks with Tony, you fell back into a sense of belonging and family. You didn’t realize how much you missed your friends here. How much you missed being an Avenger. It got so lonely most nights not having anyone to talk to. At least here, you would have had Nat or Bucky to train with in the middle of the night.
Or Loki to keep you company.
You groaned internally. You couldn’t help but be on edge all night, thinking about him and wondering if Loki was ever going to show up.
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Before leaving for the night, you excused yourself to get some fresh air. There was a greenhouse in the back glades of the compound that you frequented most nights just to be alone. You used to make the hedges grow all around, giving you a private garden away from the rest of the world.
Inside, it was as if you had never left. The plants stood tall as if to greet you. Bright flowers bloomed in different colors as if in competition to win your adoration. And in the back corner, hidden behind large monstera plants, was a cove of plush blankets and chairs that you hid from anyone ever finding. Everyone except, “Loki?”
Loki sat in the rattan chair; his legs crossed reading a magazine with your picture on the cover. He looked as breathtaking as the first time you saw him, like trouble and a promise all wrapped up in his pressed monochromatic black suit. His mischievous smile appeared, tempting you closer.
“Hello, Foxglove,” he greeted you. His voice sending shivers down your spine. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? You kept repeating in your head.
“I…didn’t know this spot was taken. I won’t bother you. Goodnight,” you hastily said as you turned to leave.
“Wait!” he cried standing up. You could feel him grab hold of your wrist. You looked down to see his shadow holding on to you like a dear friend, shadow to skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. It’s been so hard to be intimate with anyone because of your body’s defense mechanism. And here was Loki, the only man who figured out a loophole to your little enigma.
“I just wanted to say…” Loki paused, staring only into your eyes. “Y-you look beautiful tonight.” You pulled your hand away from his shadow and stayed quiet. “I saw you. We… the team… saw you on the talk show. You’ve done amazing things this past year. One movie, a television show, countless endorsements.”
“Still don’t think I can make it?” you challenged.
“Fox, it was never about that!” he argued. His sudden outburst propelled him like a predator. He stalked his way closer to you, making you back into the glass wall of the greenhouse. You caught whiffs of his cologne mixed with the tropical scent of the flowers all around you. He stopped when he realized he had alarmed you. “I should not have advanced on you so quickly. I apologize.”
“It’s all right. Just habit, I guess.” You were always conscious of people touching you and getting too close. You never wanted to be the cause of their hallucinations. Loki felt relieved that he hadn’t scared you off. His shadow stood ahead of him, rubbing your arm with the back of his fingertips, trying to mollify your anxiousness.
Loki watched and waited as you settled. Jealousy festered in his body at the sight of his shadow being able to comfort you and he couldn’t. “You look… breathtaking, by the way.” He tried to soothe.
“You already said that,” you said curtly, blushing. Loki loved your blush. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you.
“Is your new lover here with you tonight? Got sick of the real superheroes, had to get yourself a pretend one?” he tried deflecting. Loki smirked looking through the glass and out to the party to see if he could spot Cavill.
“As I recall, you wanted nothing to do with me once I stepped foot out of your room,” you said quoting him from the last time you spoke. “So, it’s none of your business whether or not Henry and I are together.”
“But you are…together?” he asked. His stare was unwavering, demanding an answer to his desperate question.
“I don’t need this right now!” You were angry and speechless. He doesn’t have the right to question your life’s choices especially when he wanted no part of them in the first place.
You moved to get away from his shadow’s hold and out of the greenhouse. Loki followed you close. “Fox, please. Stop.”
“Why are you even here, Loki?” you called back, briskly walking towards the exit. “You knew this was- This was my spot. MY SPOT!” you yelled, turning abruptly towards him.
“Because I wanted a chance to talk to you in private! Without the cameras or the paparazzi. Without some life-or-death mission hanging over our heads. I needed to see your face again, without all these people trying to steal your attention away from me.” He stopped and watched you reach for the door to go outside. “I’m sorry, Vixen.”
Vixen.
Feelings you thought you had buried deep down inside of you started to resurface. All because of that name he used. The one he would whisper as he called for you in his arms late at night. The name he used when he made you laugh so hard the only way to stop you was to kiss you.
The one name he knew would stop you in your tracks… because it was the one name he used when he was about to touch you himself.
“I am sorry if I ever made you feel…”
“Unworthy? Incapable? Useless?!” you turned as you accused him.
“Unwanted,” he finished.
Real tears fell down your face now. Loki cupped your cheek and wiped it away with his thumb. You could feel the heat in his touch. The energy. You’ve felt it with his shadow, but there was always something electrifying and passionate when Loki touched you himself.
It was a luxury to feel this connection with someone. To feel the warmth from his fingers. The callouses in his palms. You imagined feeling his soft lips on you once again until you stopped yourself. It was a dangerous path to have such expectations right now. You opened your teary eyes to find Loki watching you.
His eyes darted around to your surroundings before he closed them and tried to focus back on you. “You are very much wanted, Vixen. I just couldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted you back then.”
He opened his eyes to yours. The swirl of emotion in them was breathtaking. It was then that you saw his true face for the first time. His emotions. His thoughts. He was stripped of his armor and his pretenses. You felt as if you two were the only thing that existed in that time and space. As if he were holding his life, right there cupped in between his hands.
Your heart pounded in your ears as he continued his confession. “I am a jealous god. You know this. I didn’t want to share you with anybody. I wanted to keep you to myself. To keep you from the world. I was afraid that you would tire of me like you did with being an Avenger. Cast me out after seeing what the world out there could offer you.”
Loki placed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. He bared it all for you tonight. He admitted something you knew was difficult for him to confess.
But could it erase what he made you feel for wanting to follow your dreams? Horrible and selfish. Untalented. Unwanted.
“I love you.” Your eyes grew wide at his expression. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you since. I am still deeply in love with you. Even now, when you’re about to run away from me, my heart won’t let me forget you. I was afraid that I would have no place in the world that you were creating for yourself. So, for that, I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and lingered in his touch a while longer.
“I wanted to apologize. I never got a chance to see you again after our fight, and I regret that I never made amends to you. You had every right to follow your path. I shouldn’t have stopped you. I should’ve supported you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks back and forth. You always did have the softest skin, unblemished by anyone else’s touch, he thought.  “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything at all. And if you want to leave now, I won’t stop you. Never again. But I just needed you to know how I felt.”
Do you love him? You asked yourself as you looked into his variegated eyes. Did you spend every night thinking about him? Did you ignore the compound, and your friends, this past year just to avoid seeing him again? Afraid that he would have someone new in his life? Did you miss his voice when he says your name? His kisses? His touch?
“Yes,” you answered yourself. Loki’s brows knitted in confusion. “Loki, I understand now. Thank you… what I said to you back then, I was angry, but...” you tried to start.
Loki smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We were both angry and said things we didn’t mean. Me more than you. Please don’t apologize. Least of all to me.” He exhaled as his eyes darted around again. You nodded your head, accepting his grace- forgiving you without having to apologize.
You looked up at his eyes, filled with wonder, “What do you see? When you touch me?” you asked gently. All this time you never thought to ask him.
“I see what I always see. Since the very first time I touched you. Do you remember?” You shook your head no. “They showed a picture of it on the talk show.” Realization sunk in. “I was wiping your tears just like now.”
Loki looked around again and smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I see home. I see the woods that used to grow behind the castle walls. Thor and I used to sneak out when we were children and climb the trees. The same woods we used as hunting grounds when we got older. Would you like to see it?”
No one had ever asked you that before.  No one had ever had the power to do that before! You nodded and faint green smoke rose from his fingers. Your vision got blurry as the greenhouse was replaced by a dense forest. The trees were tall and luscious. Strands of warm light filtered through the canopy above shining down on the emerald grass below.
“Come with me.” Loki held your hand as he walked further into the woods. Dead leaves and twigs crunched at your feet as a soft breeze blew through the lace of your dress giving you goosebumps. “There’s a glade up ahead where we can just lay on the grass. I used to spend my free time there, letting the hours idle away.” The thought made you smile.
Sure enough, a clearing began to form up ahead. Long, soft grass weaved itself as it grew amongst large wildflowers. The filtered light from the canopy above made the blooms shine like jewels on a bed of velvet.
“I have yet to see anywhere comparable to this place on Midgard,” Loki said circling the glade, a look of homesickness in his eyes. “That metropolis has nothing compared to the splendor of these woods.”
“It’s beautiful.” You said walking towards him. A path of small wildflowers blooming with every step you made.
“Thank you. It is beautiful. But still an illusion. We are still very much in the greenhouse by the compound. You’re just seeing what I’m seeing at the moment.” You reached out towards a tree and felt cold glass instead of bark.
“You see this every time you’ve touched me? Every time we’ve…”
“Hmm,” Loki nodded solemnly. “Sometimes it's these woods. Other times it's my bedchambers in the palace. Yet, every time I’m with you, I see this- my childhood home. I haven’t been back since you left.” Loki bent down and picked up a wildflower that had grown in your stride. “I try to conjure it myself, but it never feels the same. The colors aren’t as vibrant. Not as much warmth.” He placed the flower on your ear, pushing your stray hair back. His hands ventured further down, tracing the beads of your sleeves.
“I’ve missed you,” he admitted.
“You’ve missed me? Or you’ve missed my powers and that they can bring you home?” you asked slightly jilted.
Loki looked deeply into your eyes as he turned you into his embrace. Your hands fell onto his arms and the look he gave you stole your breath away. “You are my home,” he confessed with a passion and honesty you’ve never heard from him before.  
He wasted no time. He gave you no warning as he conceded to his urges and kissed you fervidly. The soft lips you were fantasizing about earlier painted a poor picture of his actual kiss. Soft yet demanding. Giving, yet always ravenous. It was as if no time had passed between you two. You were back in his arms kissing him and it felt like he described it. Home.
“All I ever wanted was to have you here in my arms,” he breathed in between kisses. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him back to you for another kiss. His arms wrapped selfishly around you, holding you tighter to him.
The heat was too much. It’s been so long since you’ve been held so intimately. But with Loki’s lips devoted to your neck, you would burn gladly. You would die happily on this pyre- as the last thing you would hear would be Loki moaning in your ears.
You were lost in his haze, caught up in the moment with the feel of his body against yours. He pushed you against the tree and you felt the cold glass of the greenhouse against your back.
Loki towered over you, “Tell me you want this,” he whispered onto your noxious skin. “Tell me you’ve missed this and want this with me.” He looked into your eyes, imploring something deep and vulnerable inside you.
“I do, Loki. I want this with you” You moaned holding tight against his grip. You felt his hands gather your dress skirt. Slowly his hands wandered, savoring the feel of your soft skin. His hallucinations were getting more and more vivid. Believable. Or perhaps it was just his kiss, sending you into slight delirium yourself.
Loki hurriedly took off his suit jacket and flung it across the room. He knelt in front of you, in between your parted legs as he raised your left knee above his shoulders- kissing his way up to your inner thighs. “Loki is this real?” you asked looking around you.
“Gods, I hope so,” he prayed, leaving a mark on your thigh. He kissed his way up to your core and licked you through the fabric of your panties. You heard the sheer cotton tear as his fingers brushed up against your eager clit.
Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling when he licked a wide stripe in between your folds. Your knees buckled at the sensation and soon you were reaching around yourself for something to hold. Something to keep you up as Loki lost himself in your wet arousal.
The cold glass of the greenhouse was replaced by the feeling of something warm and sturdy behind you. You looked up to see that Loki’s shadow had positioned himself to where his chest was flushed against your back- his dark hands roaming your body. His arms reached forward to hold your dress up above your waist, aiding Loki in his endeavors.
You felt a kiss on your neck, a quick peck as if he was asking for permission or giving you a warning. You yelped as his shadow quickly lifted you by your hips and Loki pushed both your knees up for his shadow to hold.
“Loki!”
“Yes, my love?” he asked as he continued to latch his mouth and draw on your aching cunt. Loki’s shadow spread your legs. You were splayed open and exposed. Leaving Loki to devote his tongue to you. You reached up and ran your hands through his shadow's hair, pulling as he sweetly kissed your neck.  
You couldn’t help the moans and loud whimpers escaping your lips. You bucked your hips onto Loki’s face as your head reared back onto his shadow’s shoulders.
“Come for me, Fox. Let me hear you,” he commanded as he continued his consumption of you. “Let me taste you again. Give me what I’ve been missing. What I’ve been craving.” He said the last words to your tormented clit. You shuddered violently as moans and whimpers of his name fell from your lips. “That’s it. There you go, Vixen,” he cooed as he drank your arousal and lapped around your thighs.
His shadow laid you down gently and you felt the plush pillows and cold blankets from the greenhouse corner underneath you. A warring sensation against the heat of Loki’s body pressed on top of you. A bit of reality mixed in with the illusion Loki was scarcely hanging on to.
His hands fondled your every curve and every soft line. You cupped his face and led him to your kiss. His soft lips quivered when you reached in between your bodies and stroked his clothed erection. So hard and so tight. He breathed a sigh of relief when you unzipped his pants and stroked him.
“Fuck,” he moaned. Your name followed next as he bucked his hips into your hand. “Vixen…tell me you’re mine,” he panted. He kissed you hard, not letting you reply, afraid of your answer. You lined him up next to your expecting cunt and pulled him inside you.
You bit your lip and moaned as the look of pure pleasure radiated through your face. “Tell me…” he tried again as he pushed his hips into you repeatedly.
“I love you, Loki,” you moaned. His eyebrows slanted skeptically, stilling his movements and letting your words sink into his thoughts. “I’ve always been yours.” You admitted.
His kiss was magic. It was passion and life. Remorse and reconciliation all at once. He began his movements again at a steady pace, savoring your tight walls around him. You could feel the ridges on his shaft with every euphoric pull and thrust. His head bowed at the sheer power of your declaration. “Say it again…” he whispered.
“I’m yours,” you moaned.
“…say it…” he bit his lips. “…ag-again…please…” His eyes were closed as he focused on the agonizingly drawn-out movements of his hips to yours.
“I love you, Loki,” you cried as he slammed against you. You squeezed around him finally pushing him off that edge. Loosening the tight hold he had on his pleasure and pouring it all into you. The wave of bliss hit you hard and you came onto his throbbing cock at the same time.  
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Spent and panting next to you, Loki held you close. His kisses were endless. Your cheeks and jaw would be bruised tomorrow from the affection he was showering you with. His hands were always touching you. Your neck, your face. Your thigh that was wrapped around his legs. You lost all track of time being with the god of mischief and soon the bright sunlight that trickled down to the forest floor was replaced by the harsh glare of the greenhouse overhead lamp.
Loki had little strength left to keep the illusion up any longer. He seemed weary but content. You kissed him fleetingly as you sat up back to reality. “Stay,” he said softly. “The one thing I didn’t say last time…I’m saying it now. Don’t go. Stay.” His hands held yours tightly.
So many feelings were attached to that one word. The weight of it crushing your heart. “I’m not asking you to give up your life. I’m not asking you to stay just for the night either. I’m asking for you to just be,” he smiled at you. “Be who you want to be and I will support you like I should have.”
You crawled back to him, settling your head on your propped-up elbows, while your other hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And if I decide to go?”
“Then I’ll do the one thing I should’ve done last time but didn’t.” he smiled as you looked at him expectantly. “I’ll follow you.”
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A/N: This was a request sent in and I'm sorry to say it took this long for me to finish it. I hope you like it my lovely @gruftiela. I tried to stick to the vibe of the song. But I also added lyrics from one of my other favorite Depeche Mode songs. See if you can spot it 😝.
🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish
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reaveries · 1 year
Text
▬  𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲
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gif credit to @robpattinsongifs (much higher resolution on their account)
summary: late-night visits from your definitely human boyfriend
pairings: edward cullen x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k (approximately 7 minutes reading time)
a/n:  I’ve had this baby marinating in my drafts since January, when I was going through my bi-annual Twilight Renaissance. I was actually in the middle of writing a RE2R Leon Kennedy fic today and decided to put on a twilight playlist, and then I just knew I had to finish this one. It’s my first *published* non-RDR fic heehee (I have so much in my drafts, it’s insane). Anyways, enjoy (pardners)!
masterlist archive of our own
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It’s that dreadful time of year again. 
The sun is making its curtain call as students from the nearby elementary school trip over themselves running home. Little girls and boys have sticky remnants of lunch peeking from the corners of their mouths and the grass is still slick from morning showers. But dusk is impatient in February, and its eagerness is encouraged in a town hidden beneath perpetual overcast nine months out of the year.
The school children ran past her window minutes ago when the sky had been painted brilliant indigo. Now, when she looks up the only thing left to see is her own dark reflection and the warm orange glow from a candle on the sill. Its tall flame stutters, collapsing and rising with the damp breeze. 
A page turns, disrupting the otherwise quiet room. The only other noise that can be heard is a soft pitter of water dripping onto the floorboards from a coat hanging off the closet door. 
She reaches for a mug sitting on the corner of her nightstand and promptly sets it back down upon finding it empty. It returns to its spot atop crumpled receipts and library hold slips belonging to the growing stack of books accumulating dust at her bedside. These books tower over the permanent nightstand residents: lazily discarded beaded necklaces, a sample bottle of floral perfume from Christmas, two little ceramic bunnies purchased from an antique mall in Port Angeles last summer, car keys, and drugstore chapstick. It might be worth convincing her to let go of some of these post-object permanence discoveries, but that is a matter for another time.
In a desperate attempt to comprehend the words she’s reading, she rolls onto her back and extends her arms straight in the air so the book hovers a foot from her face—a change of perspective to freshen the mind.
It does not help. 
No matter how much she shifts or squints, the antiquated prose remains stubbornly uninviting. She can’t fathom why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so archaic and convoluted and furthermore, recommend it as one of their favorite novels.
With a huff, she adjusts the headphones at her ears, hoping the music will clear her mind. But despite her best efforts, the book slowly drifts closer to her chest and her eyelids grow heavier as the music lulls her into a dreamless sleep. 
When she wakes to cold fingers grazing her jaw it’s impossible to tell whether she’d fallen asleep or if she just blinked. The weight of the headphones gently disappears as they’re pulled off and set down on the nightstand. She grumbles incoherently and stretches out her legs, not unlike a cat after a long, difficult day of lounging around. Her eyes begrudgingly flutter open and immediately find him only inches away. He’s watching her, peering down with a twinkle in his amber-colored eyes.
“Edward…” she whispers.
“Dracula,” he says, eyebrows raised as he makes the observation. “I thought you didn’t like Gothics.”
She reaches a finger into the book on her chest and folds the page over before tossing it carelessly into the sea of knitted and quilted blankets at the foot of the bed. With the haze of sleep still clouding her eyes, she smiles sheepishly up at him.
“I’m trying.”
He chuckles lightly and brings his hand to her hair again, brushing stray strands off her forehead and tucking them behind her ears before leaning down to place a chaste kiss above her eyes. Though his lips are soft, the icy touch of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. He’s always cold; a result of his anemia, he says. However, the downpour that's dampened his hair and clothes to his skin has chilled him even more so.
In an effort to sit up, she raises herself onto her elbows and catches a glimpse of the bright red digital numbers on her bedside clock.
“You’re late, you know,” she chides, watching him settle uncomfortably at the head of the bed. He sinks down among the pillows, their plushness contrasting humorously with the stiffness of his demeanor. He reaches behind his back and tugs free a stuffed rabbit lodged between him and the headboard, then sets it down softly beside himself.
“I had to make a quick stop. I hope you can forgive me,” he says in a hushed voice, so as not to make too much noise in the resting house. His eyes flit towards the nightstand and she follows them to see a new item sitting amongst the disorder. A tall styrofoam cup with steam rising thinly from the lid. Coffee. 
The mug she just finished sits right beside it. She’d considered brewing more but that was before being rendered unconscious by Bram Stoker nearly an hour ago. Her heart swells at his thoughtfulness, but a more pressing question comes to mind before she can voice her gratitude.
“How did you even climb up here with that?” She asks, reaching for the cup with both hands.
“I’m very��agile.” There’s a look in his eyes that tells her there’s more to it, but she chooses to ignore it for now with a shake of her head.
The taste is immediately harsh, significantly more bitter than how she makes it herself. Any trace of a smile dissipates and is replaced with a pronounced look of disgust.
“Good God, Edward,” she exclaims. “Decaf? What did I ever do to you?”
He laughs and takes it from her hands, leaving her still reeling from the unexpected taste. “As much as I love staying up with you, you need sleep,” he says, a hint of sternness in his voice. “You didn’t get any last night and you don’t hide it well.”
He says the last part sweetly, tilting his head to the side and following her motions with his eyes, watching her pick up the stuffed rabbit by its cotton paw.
“Don’t hide it well?” She repeats, the indignation in her voice contrasting with the softness of the toy as she raises it high into the air and brings it down against his chest with a soft thud. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to hide anything if you—weren’t—keeping—me—up—all—night!”
With every word, the rabbit hits his forearms poorly attempting to shield himself from the blows. Edward grins as she attacks him, the soft toy barely making a sound against his arms. He watches as her hair falls across her face in the midst of the unrelenting attack, the warm glow of the candle casting a soft halo around her.
But then, his amusement fades as he sees the exhaustion in her eyes. 
He gently takes the rabbit from her and sets it aside before grabbing her arm mid-swing and pulling her into his chest. She sighs heavily and surrenders, relaxing against him. "I’m sorry," he whispers, his lips brushing against her hair. “I’ll let you rest tonight.”
Despite his tender words, a residual half-baked frustration lingers inside her. “How did you manage to stay awake in class?” she mumbles into his sweater, the words muffled. “I mean, you didn’t get any sleep either.”
He chuckles, as if privy to some inside joke.
“Well, someone had to take your notes for you,” he says, his fingers trailing through her hair in a soothing motion. “And besides, you looked so peaceful drooling away.” 
She looks up at him, a hint of a drowsy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I did not drool,” she insists.
He grins down at her, his eyes alight with fondness. “Of course not.”
She groans and buries her head into his chest, to which he responds by encircling his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.
“I’m never falling asleep in front of you again,” she grumbles.
His chest rumbles beneath her cheek as he laughs. “Alright, angel.”
He shifts his hand from the crown of her head to the curve of her back, tracing languid circles over the fabric of her t-shirt as the room fills with a comfortable silence. The rain outside grows heavier, tapping against the glass with a more insistent force. Her body is warm against his and he can feel the steady thumping of her heartbeat as if it's his own. A few minutes slip by, and he senses her breathing even out and deepen. Without disturbing her, he reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it over her, then turns his gaze to the candle on the windowsill.
“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, as the dwindling flame fades out of focus. 
This is his favorite part of the day.
Vague arrays of soft, muted hues and shapes swirl around in his vision, overtaking the warm surroundings of her bedroom. They morph into recognizable figures after some time, and he can hear them speaking when he focuses. For the most part, they sound as if he’s underwater and they’re conversing on the shore. But every now and then, a clear phrase emerges.
Suddenly, the floating shapes assimilate into a figure resembling him and he realizes what this dream is. It’s a recurring one he’s particularly fond of. He settles in and pulls her closer as the scene ebbs between reality and distortions of the unconscious mind. 
He can’t remember how he used to pass the night hours before he met her. Books, records, films--looking back, they feel hollow compared to nights spent like this. Part of him hopes he’ll never know what it's like to want for this. But these dreams, and her thoughts in the waking hours, assure him he won’t ever have to find out.
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