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ironmandeficiency · 2 years ago

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the best gift

pairing: fíli / fem!reader

word count: 2975

summary: your husband is sent on a diplomatic mission to reestablish trade. this trip unfortunately falls during your first birthday in erebor as fee’s betrothed

a/n: my march piece for the year of themed creation ( @yearofcreation2023 ) that i didn't finish in time bc life sucks ass. nâthuê kurdu means “daughter of my heart”, & namadith means "little sister" in khuzdul. the stone gifted to the reader is amazonite. also, see if you can find my “blind burglar” reference lol (that series has taken over my brain holy shit)

“do you truly have to go, fee?”

fíli’s forehead gently thumps against yours, his hands holding you close. “i’m sorry, ghivashel. i wish i didn’t have to go until after, but there’s only so much that can be done from such a dístance.”

you knew he was right, that reestablishing trade to erebor was crucial in gaining a sturdy foothold in the mountain. and since he’s the heir apparent, he has to uphold the duties of his status.

that doesn’t make fíli missing your birthday any less dísappointing.

“i promise you, my love, i will make every effort to be home before your special day.” his lips press gently against yours and you let yourself go in his embrace.

with a playful tug on his braided beard, you bid him safe travels before he mounts his pony and rides off.

~ two weeks before your birthday ~

from the day he set out, fíli wrote you all sorts of letters. their contents ranged from how deeply he loved you, to what he had to eat a few days prior, to the weird mannerisms of animals he encountered (there was a ferret that followed him for two whole days that he named thistle, silly little thing). at the end of every letter, for his own reassurance, he wished you a happy birthday in all sorts of flowery language courtesy of balin’s lessons. if the ravens knew he did this because he was frightened of the letters not reaching you in time, they probably would have pecked him a new orifice or two for doubting their efficiency.

the latest letter (and all the others before) had arrived courtesy of a raven named jessamy, a sweet hen that made her favor for your husband over the other royals very much known. she chittered softly at you from the windowsill to get your attention before squawking just loud enough to rouse you from your concentration.

“princess consort! another letter from your husband!”

rising from your desk, you approach the window and give the faithful bird a good chin scratch. “i told you, jess, you don’t have to use titles with me. we’re far beyond all the formalities.” your hands deftly untied the missive from her leg before inviting the raven inside.

it was tradition by now: every time you received a letter from fíli, the loyal raven was offered food and rest on a special cushion you had made specifically for her while waiting for you to pen your reply. jessamy was quite the conversationalist and far more favored company compared to many of the nuisance nobles that now occupied the mountain. the two of you would gossip about your respective circles and duties with afternoon tea before she carried your reply to fee.

she fluffed her wings with indignance. “being an adult or not, i think adad would have my tail feathers if he heard me being so casual with you and prince fíli.”

it took no small amount of willpower to keep from guffawing in your friend’s face. “you think roac is constantly professional with thorin? i’ve heard him on no less than three occasions call uncle an absolute fool!”

“‘do as i say, not as i do’ is a phrase i’ve heard since before i could fly, if that provides any context.”

you chuckled at the turn of phrase that sounds eerily like something thorin would say. “well, the offer still stands, my friend. you know my name and have freedom to use it however you please.”

“duly noted, princess,” her tone told you that she wasn’t planning on doing so anytime soon. dropping the topic, you choose instead to sit and read fíli’s latest letter.

my dearest love,

the weather has been suspiciously kind to us this past week, but i cannot find it in me to look this gift boar in the mouth. we braved but a brief sprinkling from the heavens, and my company was graced with the sight of a rainbow. if i had any sort of artistic ability in my bones, i’d have spent hours simply drawing the colored light as it dísappeared behind the hills we previously crossed.

i saw the strangest mushroom a few hours after i sent jessamy back to you the time before this, far too late to include it in my letters. it was bright red and oozed something alarmingly bloody when fractured. it looked as if someone slapped a piece of venison onto a tree and called it a fungus. i sliced a piece off to give to oin, i believe he would appreciate it.

as your birthday draws ever nearer, i continue to fear that i won’t arrive home in time to celebrate by your side. as i have in every letter previously, i will remind you that i love you with every muscle and bone in my body. everything i do, i do in hopes i will continue to be the dwarf you deserve, to be someone worthy of your hand. happy birthday, my love. i’ll be home soon.

your prince,

fíli

the smile on your face hurt your cheeks. your dear husband was such a sap that he could rival that of every tree in the woodland realm.

the ornate wooden box you recently commissioned special from bifur sat on your desk, lying in wait for the latest letter to fill it. nothing could bring you to throw away any of the letters fíli has written to you, so you saved every single one all the way back to when you first met him, long before erebor was reclaimed. their new home was far more fitting than the tattered cloth and twine that kept them safe prior to coming to erebor.

would you eventually need to either size up or get more boxes made? most definitely. but for now, this latest letter would fit perfectly inside the box in front of you. adding the date it was received to the bottom, the parchment found its new home among fellow letters.

~ the morning of your birthday ~

fíli wondered, not for the first time in his life, why he allowed himself to be roped into the ridiculous plans his brother concocted. he had just arrived back in erebor mere hours ago, but instead of immediately running to you, here he was in a box. the one good thing was that it was surprisingly spacious, considering that it was, in fact, still a box.

it was all because kíli was unable to finish your true gift from him in time, which is to be a set of leather armor made from hide he collected and tanned himself. he asked dori for your measurements and to help with the ornate stitching he had planned, but other than that, everything was done by his hand alone. but his foolish brother had mistaken the month of your birthday for the one directly after, and now there was no time to see it truly complete.

that’s why he was in a box in the common room of the royal wing.

your party (or at least, the private one) wouldn’t commence until the early afternoon, but kíli was insistent on him staying in his paper-wrapped tomb until it was time. you were to receive gifts from your friends and family, and seeing as many of them would lend themselves to be something you would wear to the royal celebration, the private one would happen first.

at least his brother (and bilbo) were sneaking him food and drink from a sneakily hidden hole so he wouldn’t starve before the festivities began.

you woke up to the sound of your mother-in-law rifling through your wardrobe. rubbing your eyes to rid them of the crust from a good sleep, you broke through her whispered mutterings. “amad, what…”

she ignored you in favor of continuing to tear your room apart. “there’s no time, you should have been bathed and braided an hour ago!” at first you’re very confused, but then you remember the day.

groaning, you untangle yourself from your blankets, thankful that your husband warned you that amad would be in your rooms when you woke the morning of your birthday. you were in a more presentable pair of nightclothes than you would have been otherwise.

she heard you ruffling about and immediately approached you, her usual no-nonsense eyes also housing the fondness that only came from a mother. “oh good you’re up. there’s already a bath waiting with your favorite soaps, and when you get out your clothes will be waiting on your bed for you. i’ll help you dress, then we can braid your hair properly.” it was like she never stopped to breathe.

before you could even reply, she was shooing you towards the bathroom while tugging at your nightclothes. “now off you go! no daughter of mine will arrive at her own birthday celebration looking like a hooligan.”

if you were a bit more awake you would have laughed.

some minutes later (no matter how much you wanted to enjoy your morning bath, it would be most unwise to keep dís waiting), you emerged from the bathroom and marveled at the gown that lay waiting for you on the bed.

dís noticed your entrance and smiled at the way your eyes lit up while taking in the fine work. it was dyed in the same durin blue you wore on the day of your wedding, with such intricate work along the hem that you couldn’t help but open your mouth in awe. “dori’s talent never dísappoints, does it?” you nodded your agreement in stunned silence.

there were the signature embroidered sharp edges that defined dwarven fashion, many segments adorned with crystal chips sewn directly into the dress. it wasn’t a crystal you were immediately familiar with, but you enjoyed the way the lighter blue contrasted the deep blue with a bright pop.

“as much as we’d both like to stare at the dress for the next several hours, it would look much better on you.” you bit back the scandalous comment that came to mind that involved your husband liking it better on the floor of your rooms. you’ve been spending far too much time with your brother-in-law.

for being so beautiful, you thought it would be an absolute pain to actually get on. much to your surprise, it slid on your body like a glove. dís fastened it closed and once you were snug inside the gown, she all but pushed you into the chair in front of your vanity to begin braiding your hair.

with the barest amounts of makeup and braids weaved into your hair tighter than gloin’s coin purse, she finally set you free for the moment. she dug in the pockets hidden in the folds of her own dress - something she always insisted on you requesting as well - until she pulled out a small box with the seven stars of durin on the lid.

she placed the box in your hands, her strong, callused ones firmly holding yours into place. “this is my gift for you, nâthuê kurdu. a piece that symbolizes the bond you share with fíli, made by my own hand to celebrate the daughter i never thought i would get.”

it was a beautifully made necklace that had you captivated at first sight. the chain itself was a delicate weave of copper and silver, but the pendant was what gave you pause. it was the sun and moon; the sun was made of tiger’s eye, the stone that dís christened her firstborn with at his own majority, and the moon was made of the same stone that adorned parts of your dress. they faced each other and around them, wrapped in more wire, were diamonds representing the seven stars.

“dís, you didn’t…”

“oh, my daughter, you’ll find that i did.”

“will you tell me about it?”

she gave you your own stone, an honor you knew she only gave to a very select few.

her eyes were glistening just enough to tell you that she was feeling the love as strongly as you were. “it’s a stone given to help find one’s voice, a conduit to aid in speaking from the heart. it influences calm in the owner and will serve you well for the rest of your days, not just as a future queen of erebor, but as a wife and friend.”

you would have been in tears at her speech if not for the playful glare she gave you warning of the consequences of ruining the makeup. “i don’t know what- thank you amad, i will treasure this piece until the end of my days.” that’s all you knew to say, all you could say without blubbering.

after helping you put it on, she wrapped you in a strong embrace that put you back together seamlessly. “if this is how you act with only a necklace, i don’t think you’ll have a chance of retaining composure once we’re back with everyone.”

she was definitely right about that. thorin’s gift of an intricate silver circlet embedded with both yours and your husband’s stones had your bottom lip dangerously quivering. he would have been bowled over at your tackle-hug had he not been already sitting down. he merely smiled and pet your head softly, bilbo passing you a handkerchief to wipe the water from your eyes.

thankfully, you were already familiar with the hobbit tradition of giving gifts on one’s birthday instead of receiving, and had presented him with a set of ceramic teacups and matching saucers you made. they weren’t the same high quality fine china he was passed down by his relatives back in the shire, but they could hold tea just fine. it was given with love and usefulness in mind and to bilbo, that’s what mattered.

with every gift you were given, you felt like you could fly with the ravens from the joy. kíli looked oddly suspicious through the entire ordeal, which would have been slightly worrying had it not been your birthday. he wasn’t daft enough to prank you on such an important day lest he risk the wrath of his mother.

it was even worse when he avoided giving you your gift each time the others badgered him to present it already. their gifts had already been presented and your heart filled with love from each.

“kíli, where is your gift?”

“well, uh, you see, what happened was-” dís leveled a glare at him that could have frozen mount doom. “i didn’t finish it in time. but! the moment i complete it, i shall present it with all the pageantry it deserves.”

“well if you don’t have yours to give, then who’s that massive brick from?” dwalin pointed to the massive box. he raised a very valid point that led many a bearded chin to be stroked in confusion. kíli was the last one who hadn’t given his gift, yet while he says his gift wasn’t finished, there was still an unopened present waiting around the fireplace.

you approached it warily, wondering what in the world it could hold to warrant the size of its container. kíli revealed nothing. “just open it and you’ll see, namadith.” the smirk he wore belied trouble of the worst kind.

maybe he wasn’t as intelligent as you gave him credit for.

“i swear, inudoy, if that box has anything that risks ruining the joy of this day, i will tan your hide and give what little meat there is on your bones to bombur to serve with tonight’s dinner!” dís’s warning did nothing but widen the grin on his face, which would have been rather frightening if you couldn’t hear muffled laughter from the box in front of you.

it was a laugh you fell in love with many moons ago, the one that followed your silly jokes and the sight of his brother getting flattened by dwalin on the training grounds. it was the laugh of your beloved husband, barely being concealed by the box itself and the bickering erupting from the others.

you opened the lid with a knowing smile and as soon as it was removed, fíli popped up with his arms outstretched. “happy birthday, ghivashel!” he attempted to step out of the box to properly embrace you, but it seems his time in the box had put a damper on his ability to properly walk. instead, he tumbled out of it and nearly brought you to the ground as he tried to brace himself.

your laughter mingled with his, neither of you paying attention to the sniggers from the onlookers. “fíli! when did you get back?! please tell me you haven’t been in that box for the past three days!” it appeared in the common room a few days prior and the curiosity about what it could be plagued you for hours upon first glimpse. but no one else seemed to have any clue about it, so you let your curiosity rest.

he chuckled as he stretched his legs out, braving the tingling feeling you knew he was experiencing from being cooped up for durin knows how long. “i only arrived very early this morning. i barely had time to bathe before my fool of a brother was shoving me into this thing and sneaking me food.” he shook his head and laughed, pressing a solid kiss to your temple. “and thank you for the tea earlier, uncle bilbo!”

the hobbit waved him off with a smile, nudging thorin lovingly to get him to pay attention to the fact the contents of the box wouldn’t, in fact, result in him being short a nephew.

“i hate to say it fee, but i think your brother has gotten me the best gift so far.”

“you’ll just have to wait until tonight, kurdu.”

“i look forward to it.”

#year of themed creation 2023 #year of idiots #fili x female reader #fili x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit reader insert #fíli imagine #fíli durin x reader #fíli durin #fíli and kíli #lotr imagine #the hobbit fanfiction #fili durin x reader #fili imagine

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dahliamae · 3 years ago

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Maybe he isn't so bad. Steve Harrington x Female Reader

*Not my gif*

wc: 2975

Warnings: language, some smut but not full blown, fluff, angst, Some Billy encounters.

Summary: y/n l/n and Steve "The Hair" Harrington have never gotten along. Maybe it’s the fact that they butt heads constantly or maybe it’s the fact that they may be just a bit too similar.

𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼𓋼𓍊𓋼

Steve Harrington is nothing but a douchebag, and people can understand why. Popularity, parties, women throwing themselves at him, being the basketball and swim captain all got into his tiny little brain and turned him into this douche. A douche that I hate.

The day started off like any other day at Hawkins High, the cold breeze swept through the school as the door opened and brought in the students, along with some leaves. The breeze against my frame sent chills up my spine as I walked towards my locker with my headphones on blasting Girls On Film by Duran Duran. Groaning as I saw him walking by laughing his ass off about something one of his friends said. Finally, after opening my locker, I quickly grabbed my textbook and notebook for US History.

“Now class, we’re coming up on our first project of the year! How exciting, I know!” Mr. Martin stated with a half-smile as the class groaned.

“And for this project I want to pick your partners, and with that new partner you’ll be next to them during class! It’s time to mingle and make some new friends, what do you say?” He smiled as he stuck his hand in the bowl and swished around the folded-up papers.

“Okay..First up! Tommy and Katie!” he exclaimed as Tommy looked back and glared at the small framed girl, who shrunk in her seat. As he continued, I realized my choices were getting slimmer by the second.

“Oh! The last two pieces! You know what that means y/n and Steve, you’re partners!”

Before I could groan Steve shot up, “There’s no fucking way I’m going to be with her. Mr. Martin please, just let two groups have three people.”

“Steve, be polite. Either go sit next to y/n or take a zero for the project.” Mr. Martin stated as his eyes narrowed.

As Steve sunk down next to me, I sighed and open my notebook. “So, uh, I have cheer practice tonight and I know you have basketball practice. How about after practice you come over and we can throw out some ideas?” I stated as I played with the paper in my notebook, rage filling me as he groaned.

“Sorry princess, but there’s a party tonight. How about you figure it out by yourself?” He smirked

“Or how about I meet you at the party and talk about it. I’m not doing all the work again, help me out Steven” I glared.

“Okay okay fine. After practice I’ll be there, but only for an hour or two. I can’t be seen with you at the party. And for the last time, my name isn’t Steven.”

“Okay Steven. But I’ll be getting ready while you’re there, so bring your notepad” I giggled as I grabbed my stuff and walked out as the bell rang.

As I walked into the gym with my pom-poms and the other girls trailing behind, I could smell the disgusting smell of the basketball boys sweat. I sighed as I sat down to tie my shoes and start the practice.

“I heard your project partner is Steve Harrington, that must be so great.” Cindy giggled as she plopped down next to me.

“You know how I feel about Harrington. I’d rather choke than be his partner for another project” I sighed as I stretched out.

“Hey! How about you actually do something with your girls instead of gossiping about my hotness” Steve shouted from the court.

I rolled my eyes as I stood up and started the practice, ignoring the boys comments the rest of practice.

As practice ended, I grabbed my pom-poms and headed towards the exit.

“Hey, wait up” Billy yelled at he jogged up to me.

“Oh, hey Billy, what’s up?” I smiled up at the handsome man.

“Just wondering if you were going to the party tonight. I need to see the hottest cheerleader make her entrance.”

“Well, you know me, I’ll be there. But Harrington is coming over beforehand so we can start our project” I sighed as I rolled my eyes.

“What a shame that Harrington is your partner and not me, sweet cheeks. You know maybe I’ll see if Harrington will switch partners with me. That way, you and I can both be happy, maybe even forget to do the project because we’ll be too busy with other-“ Billy stated before getting shoved my Steve.

“She’s my partner, go fuck yours instead” Steve glared as he pulled you back from Billy.

Pushing back from Steve I groaned, “I don’t need you saving me from Billy. Maybe I wanted him to make his move, Steven”

“For the last time, it’s Steve. Now let’s go to your place and get this over with” He stated as he grabbed my arm, pulling me to his car.

His car filled with the smell of his cologne, musky yet sweet, filled my nostrils as I slid into the passenger seat. The engine roared to life as he pulled into reverse and left the parking lot.

“You know Steve, I’m not one of those kids you babysit. I could’ve drove myself home” I stated as my eyes traveled to his cassette collection on the passenger seat floor.

“Y/N, will you just shut up? You should be thanking me for saving you from Billy. Just get a ride from Cindy tomorrow, alright?” He choked out as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Thanking you? For what? Saving me from an attractive man? Steven, you’re not the only one who needs to get laid y’know.”

“I swear to god, it’s fucking Steve. How hard is it for you to grasp my fucking name, y/n?”

“Well, if I can’t call you Steven then I’ll call you Stevie, sound good?” I smirked as I popped in his Duran Duran cassette.

He rolled his eyes and white knuckled the steering wheel as he continued down the road. Leaving the rest of the car ride silent.

As I opened the front door and kicked off my shoes I looked back at Steve.

“You’ve been here before for parties, Stevie. You know where everything is, make yourself comfortable. I’m going to hop into the shower really quick.” Before he could complain I jogged up the stairs to the bathroom connected to my room.

Quickly stripping down I got into the shower, making sure to pin my hair up beforehand. As I quietly hum, I shave and wash my body then jump back out. Wrapping my towel around my body I walk out of the bathroom and into my room. Steve sitting quietly on my bed, head resting against the backboard and his long legs crossed at the ankles. He glanced up and his eyes widened as he saw my current state.

“Jesus Y/N, ever heard of clothes?” He stated as he quickly turned his head towards the windows.

“Uh yeah Steven I have, that’s what I’m grabbing right now” I giggled as I grabbed a dark gray lacy pair of underwear from my dresser.

“Keep your head turned for a few seconds or I’ll tell everyone at school that King Steve Harrington is a pervert” I stated as I quickly dropped my towel and put on the underwear.

“For your information, my head is turned and I’m not a pervert Y/N”

“Yeah, sure Stevie. Just let me finish getting dressed and he can get started” I finished as I threw on an ex-boyfriend’s flannel and a pair of pajama shorts. I softly moved across the room to put on a vinyl then softly sat at the edge of the bed. He slowly shifted his head towards me and gave me a small smile.

“You know L/N, your room is different than I expected. I expected it to be overly pink and girly. I didn’t think it could be so, uh I don’t know, grungy?” He chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Surprising I know. But anyways, let’s get started. Let’s just get a topic picked and decide what kind of project we want to do. Then you’re free to leave, how’s that sound?” I smiled softly as I grabbed my notebook and pen.

“You’re not going to the party anymore?” “Oh, I am. I’ll just walk or call Billy to grab me. Plus, I’ll take forever to get ready. I may be mean, but I’m not mean enough to make you sit through that process.”

“No no, I insist that I bring you. I was the ass who made you leave your car at the school. How about you start getting ready while we discuss the project?”

I nodded as I went and sat on my stool in front of my vanity. “Do you want to borrow some of my exes’ clothes instead of sitting in your practice clothes? You can shower if you want as well.”

He stood up quietly and went to the drawer that held my ex’s stuff. “Well, it depends, what ex is it?”

“Oh, your personal favorite, William. His stuff should fit you though, and it’s been so long since anyone has worn it so I doubt anyone would guess it’s Will’s.” I stated as started putting on a simple makeup look.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you dated him and for so long. Like c’mon Y/N way to waste almost all of your high school career dating one narcissistic asshole.” He quickly grabbed a pair of pants, sweater and socks then headed towards the bathroom door.

“Hey! You’re one to talk about narcissism, Steven. Now go shower before I change my mind” I glared as he closed the door. Focusing back on my makeup I did a simple eye look with brown eyeshadow and a little eyeliner. I finished putting some blush on and started in on my hair, just fixing a few strands that seemed out of place. After I was finished, I grabbed a cropped black shirt, some ripped up mom jeans, and some black high-top converse, quickly putting it all on. Finishing the look by putting on some gold rings and necklace.

Walking over to the bathroom door knocking against the wooden frame.

“Come in” Steve replied softly behind the door. I walked in and Steve stood there with Will’s pants on, fitting him snug around the places it mattered, and shirtless.

“Sorry, I just need to brush my hair and then we can start.” He smiled and he combed through his grown outgrown locks.

“Oh perfect, you were taking so long I thought you fell or got sucked down the drain by a monster, Stevie”

He stiffened as the last of the sentence came out and laughed stiffly, “I’m here, don’t worry. Let’s get started, it’s almost 8:30.”

Softly sitting on the bed, I stared at him, the way his bangs, his rich brown locks, fell close to his eyes. His eyes, his soft brown eyes that looked like they belonged to a sad child. His shoulders that closed in around him, as if he wanted to hide away.

“Stevie, how about we talk about the project a different time. You seem upset, what’s bothering that brain of yours?” I asked softly as he slowly sunk down next to me.

“Me? I’m good, don’t worry. How about this weekend you come over and we work on it? How does around one sound?” He stated softly as he looked over at me.

I nodded as I stood up to put on my sneakers, “well, want to head out now then? I know on Fridays you like to start early.” He nodded and led the way down the stairs and out to his car.

Walking through the front door of Tommy’s house with Steve Harrington right in front of me, one of his large hands on the small of your back, guiding me inside the stuffy and crowded house. I slowly looked up at him and noticed he was already staring down at me.

“Beer, punch, water, or shots to start the night, baby?” He smirked as my eyes widened at his pet name.

“Um I’ll do a beer please, thanks Stevie” I barely got out before Billy wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his warm almost sweaty chest.

“There you are Y/N, almost missed my keg stand. How about you come with and watch what a real man can do?” He whispered into my ear as he grabbed my arm and pulled me out towards the pool. I looked back at Steve and gave him a sad smile as he turned his back grabbing our drinks. Outside everyone was cheering for Billy, some of the girls pulling him away from me so they could get his full attention.

“Back up, sweethearts. I’ll show you my favorite party trick” He stated as he had his friends help him set up for the keg stand. I sat in one of the lawn chairs smirking, knowing nobody could beat King Steve’s record.

Watching the leftover beer spill over Billy’s chest as he went to light a cigarette, his eyes surveying the crowd until he stopped on me.

“That’s how you do it, Hawkins!” He yelled at he pulled me up by my waist and kiss me roughly.

“That’s how you get the girls, Hawkins. Beat King Steve records-“ “Hey Hargrove, how about you find a different chick to kiss” Steve yelled as he pulled Billy away from me.

“Oh Harrington, jealous, are we? Little Harrington upset I got the hot piece of ass, and you didn’t? Get used to it, this is my town now” He smirked as he pressed up on Steve, pushing his broad chest out.

“Steve, Billy, both of you are being ridiculous. Last I checked I wasn’t anyone’s piece of ass” I stated as I shoved in between the two men, grabbing my beer from Steve.

“Y/N please, let’s go” Steve whispered as he grabbed my forearm, pulling me back into the house.

“No, fuck you Harrington. I’m not some piece of ass for you. I’m your project partner. I’m the cheerleader that does the stupid chants that help you win. Nothing more” I screamed as I pushed my pointer finger into his chest.

“No, see that where you’re wrong” He whispered as he tightened his grip on my forearm and pulled me up the stairs. Peeping his head into every room until he found the only empty room and flung me in while he shut the door.

“Sit down if you know what’s good for you, sweetheart” he growled and he shed his sweater. As I said down on the edge of the bed and came over, placing both of his arms on either side of me, boxing me in.

“Now Y/N. You’re going to tell me that Billy Hargrove is a better man than me? I don’t think so.” “Well Stevie, he’s not the one who drug me through the house and locked me in a room” I answered above a whisper staring up at him doe eyed.

“You’re mine until the end of time, do you understand?” He whispered, his face mere inches from my face. His hot breath that smells like beer and cigarettes washing over me. I nodded slowly and laid back softly. He groaned as my top raised, exposing more of my stomach.

“Oh look, what’s this here, little miss perfect?” He smirked as he pulled my top off.

“A tattoo between your breasts, just for me?” His large pointer finger tracing the inked vines and flowers. I nodded and gasped as his hand went over my breast.

“Just kiss me, Stevie” I whispered as I pulled him down to me. Our lips connecting and feeling like fire. Felt wrong but so right at the same time. I should push him off and leave this party. I hate Steve Harrington, but I love the way he's treating me right now.

His big arms pulled me into his body as he kissed down my neck, “I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to moan so loud everyone in this party will hear” he growled in between his kisses and bites.

“In your fucking dreams Harrington” I smirked as I flipped us, putting me straddling his thighs.

“Last I checked, I was going to fuck you since you want to talk such big shit. I hate you, Steve Harrington” I whispered as I unzipped his pants and slipped my hands into his boxers. Slowly palming his cock as he groaned softly, “how does that sound, baby?”

Slowly pulling away I stripped off his pants and boxers, watching his cock spring up and slap his stomach. He sat up slowly and left his mouth wide open as I stripped out of my jeans and underwear. Bare in front of Steve Harrington is not how I thought this night would go.

Laying on top of his sweaty body, gasping for breath. He chuckled softly below me and wrapped his large arms around my waist.

“Y/N, look at me” He whispered as he tugged my hair behind my ears. I slowly lifted my body and laid down next to him, glancing up at his worn-out face.

“I’m sick of acting like I hate you. Give me a chance. I’ll be better than William and ten times better than Hargrove” He whispered as he pulled me in kissing my lips in between certain words.

“Maybe you’re not so bad, Harrington. I’ll give you a shot” I smiled against his lips and placed my hand on his broad chest.

“Good, how about after discussing our project we go out to dinner?” He smiled as he kissed my forehead.

Since that day I’ve been wrapped around Steve Harrington’s finger, through battles with Russians and monsters, through the downfall of King Steve, we’ve stuck beside one another. Always wrapping one another’s wounds and being there when the other woke up from nightmare.

Hello!! This is my first fic in forever. Please let me know if anything is wrong or what your thoughts are! Thank you for supporting! 🥰

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x reader #steve stranger things

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starculler · 3 years ago

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Lead Me Down Another Road (preview)

Word Count: 2975

I fell into a minor rabbit hole and stand before you now with a scrap from the Crèchemaster Anakin AU I'm working on. The full fic is a few thousand words longer than this (and will go up on ao3 within the week), but this is technically the original bit I'd planned on writing (and is thus self-contained enough that I'm comfortable posting it alone here. As a treat). Hope y'all enjoy it and the glimpse of at least one of several Jedi OCs I've been having to come up with for this lol Note: I'm using crèche-minder in place of crèchemaster because it fits a little better with how I've set up the role in the au -- the particulars of which will be explored in the full fic.

Anakin stood from where he’d sat among the younglings in Targon Clan when he caught sight of his master standing just inside the room, all ten pairs of eyes straying from their painting to watch him stretch. He grimaced briefly at the splotches of bright paint he could already see on his tunic and pants, but made it a point to smile at a scowling nautolan making a grab at his ankle. He shuffled back, just out of reach, and had to dodge another two pairs of eager, sticky fingers with a put-upon sigh that failed to fully mask his amusement. It was the same song and dance every time he was sent to Knight D’nali for crèche-duty, and he’d long gotten wise to the initiates’ tricks.

What made today’s game of Catch-the-Padawan novel was Obi-Wan’s presence hovering at the edges of Anakin’s focus. His master hadn’t come to collect him like this since his first few weeks, confident that Anakin would neither get lost on his way to and from the crèche, nor try to dodge his punishment after that awful first and final attempt. He shuddered at the memory even as he leaped nimbly over a pair of near-humans who’d thought to tackle him from behind. He laughed when they turned, eyes wide and betrayed for a moment before trying for a frontal attack.

He dodged, weaving between ten tiny, determined younglings — baiting them with the promise of his capture before stepping just out of reach once more — until he hit something solid from behind. He blinked, stunned for a second and sure that he’d had enough space still to maneuver around, only to yelp when an arm snaked around his waist and pulled him off his feet with an ease that spoke of more than a little help from the Force.

“Master!” He groaned, his protest drowned out by mixed cheering and jeering from Targon Clan and their minder’s own loud laughter. Anakin shot Knight D’nali as much of a betrayed look as he could while caught, but the traitor only laughed harder. He huffed.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, grinning and smug and just as much of a traitor as the kiffar knight, “it seems I’ve won a prize to take back with me. A whole padawan all for myself.” A chorus of “No’s” and groaning followed the statement, and Anakin, face warmer than it had been a minute ago, suddenly found the floor much more interesting than a gaggle of disappointed initiates. Obi-Wan, still being a traitor, only laughed.

“Alright, alright. Settle down now,” Knight D’nali interrupted, wading into the chaos so she stood between them and the younglings. “Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker have other duties to attend to, and you little Jedi have a latemeal to prepare for.”

With only a mild amount of protest, the little ones acquiesced. In true, and still vaguely eerie to Anakin, Jedi fashion, they bowed in sync, calling out a discordant mix of goodbyes and thank yous. Anakin nodded in return, starting to wriggle in his master’s grip in a futile attempt to free himself. Obi-Wan held fast even after two of the younglings, a zabrak and the same nautolan who’d first tried to grab onto him, crept around Knight D’nali to hand him four sheets of flimsi splattered with a variety of bright, clashing paint.

He sighed, resigned to the embarrassment of being gifted their paintings under the too-amused gazes of both knights, and murmured a quiet “Thanks” that made the pair smile so wide he thought their faces might split. Their obvious happiness made something warm bubble up in his chest and his hand tingle where flimsi met skin. It was hardly the first time one of the younglings in any of the clans he frequented had given him something small like this to take back with him — he had a wall in his room dedicated to doodles and paintings and a corner set aside, free of his usual clutter, for knickknacks and crafts — but the shock and awe and tingling warmth it left in him never wore off.

Anakin’s gifts had never lied with children. His temper ran too hot and he never quite knew what to say to anyone his age, much less younger than him. It had, in fact, taken months of constant supervision, patience, and teaching from the crèche-minders who’d agreed to take on his crèche-duty punishments for him to build up any sort of rapport with the little ones under their care. It had been hard and frustrating, but ultimately rewarding, work even if it had been borne out of his master’s own frustrated desperation.

The arm around his waist squeezed briefly, and Anakin had to fight down yet another burning flush when he realized Obi-Wan had most likely noticed where his thoughts had wandered. He floundered for something to say or do, but settled for a heavy sigh that drew a brief chuckle from his master.

“I apologize again for stealing Anakin back so early, Knight D’nali,” Obi-Wan said and Anakin could picture the apologetic smile on his face as he spoke.

“No need,” said Knight D’nali, smiling just enough that the wrinkles in her eyes and the upward pull of her cheeks distorted the two, bright red tattoos — one line the width of her thumb and the other no more than half a centimeter — cutting vertically down from hairline to jaw over her right eye. “I may be getting older, but I remember well enough how busy a padawan’s life can be.”

“You’re not that old,” Anakin groused and earned himself a huff from his master and a bark of laughter from Knight D’nali.

“That’s sweet of you padawan, but the gray in my hair tells another story. And not another word about it,” she said the second Anakin opened his mouth. “There’ll be no buttering up this old knight. I told you, if you’re back here in less than a week I will sit this clan down for a four-hour meditation at least. Force knows your master certainly won’t object.”

“Yes Knight D’nali,” he said in the dull tone every chastised padawan seemed to affect, much to Targon Clan’s delight if their stifled giggling was any indication. Knight D’nali simply nodded, satisfied. Obi-Wan, again, laughed.

“And on that note, we’ll be taking our leave now. Knight D’nali.” Obi-Wan bowed as well as he could with an armful of padawan still pinned against him. “Targon Clan.” He offered the still-giggling younglings a much shallower bow. “May the Force be with you,” he said, echoed only a moment after by Anakin, before turning on his heel and striding out into the hall.

Anakin wriggled again and said: “Master, you can put me down now.” Obi-Wan hummed but didn’t so much as slow down until Anakin huffed, rolled his eyes, and added an only somewhat petulant “Please.”

It took him a moment to find his balance when Obi-Wan suddenly let go, but soon enough he was keeping pace with his master, just shy of being at the knight’s side. They walked in silence, past the doors to other clans of exuberant younglings and down the almost confusing pattern of turns that made up the Temple’s Crèche. It was, he knew, meant to be confusing so that intruders would have a harder time reaching the Jedi’s most vulnerable members on the off chance they made it through the Temple, guards, and every Jedi in between. He also knew that Obi-Wan was purposefully leading him through the longest route rather than the faster shortcuts one of the other crèche-minders, a young pantoran knight he’d only met with a few times so far, had taught him.

They nodded at the pair of guards stationed at the Crèche’s primary entrance once they’d finally made it through, and again to any Jedi they passed along the main corridor. Anakin glanced curiously at his master when he led them not towards the dormitory or refectory, but instead toward the salles and meditation rooms. He pursed his lips, unsure if it was a good or bad sign.

The salles meant lightsaber practice — Anakin’s favorite — but he doubted they’d stop there. He had, after all, been in the crèche because he’d let his temper get the best of him again, and Obi-Wan had made a point of steering Anakin away from as many potentially aggressive outlets as he could until he was sure Anakin was cool-headed. That didn’t stop him, however, from reaching for the lightsaber on his belt, shiny and still new considering he’d only just built it less than half a year ago. The trip to Ilum had been terrifying and exciting in equal measure, just the two of them instead of waiting for the next crèche clan’s planned gathering. It still awed him sometimes, to brush the warm, steel cylinder and find it there or to sit and listen to his crystal’s song virtually anytime he wanted.

It was a scrap of undeniable proof that he was a Jedi. That, late-comer or not, he belonged here just as much as any other padawan or knight.

Obi-Wan slowed, looking back at Anakin with the kind of unbearably soft, caring smile that told him his master had probably felt where his thoughts had gone. He held an arm out and Anakin hesitated a moment at the familiar invitation, torn between embarrassed frustration and elation at being invited close in a fairly public space, before stepping up so he was beside rather than behind Obi-Wan. He stiffened when Obi-Wan put an arm around his shoulder, but relaxed before his master could even think about pulling away. Anakin pressed into his side, deciding that, right now, eleven-nearly-twelve wasn’t too old for the show of affection, and just about melted when Obi-Wan’s arm shifted to briefly squeeze his shoulder.

His vain hope for the salles was, of course, dashed as they walked passed to duck into one of the smaller, unoccupied meditation rooms. Despite not wanting to complain, Anakin couldn’t completely stifle a sigh as he took in the room: bland, small, and box-shaped, with a few colorful cushions laid out and more stacked against the walls with a few other types of seating for those who might need it. Obi-Wan flashed him a quick smile, squeezing his shoulder once more before letting go and settling on an older-looking, dark blue cushion. Anakin breathed in, held it for a count of four, and breathed out in an effort to brace himself for the ensuing lecture or meditation he was sure to suffer. He picked up a red cushion from the far wall, calling it to his hands with the Force, and sat himself down in front of his master, close enough that their knees almost touched. Then, he waited.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started after they’d sat in silence for a few tranquil-bordering-on-nerve-wracking minutes, their slow, even breathing the only sound in the room. Anakin met his master’s gaze, shifting slightly as a small kernel of icy unease sprang to life in the pit of his stomach. “You’re not in trouble, Padawan.” Obi-Wan smiled, still soft. Still caring. Anakin frowned.

“You don’t usually bring me here unless I am.”

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” He seemed to speak mostly to himself, brow furrowed and a wry twist to his lips, like he’d found something funny. Anakin cocked his head to one side, watching as Obi-Wan breathed deeply a few times like he was trying to center himself. Or, a traitorous part of his mind whispered, bracing himself. Anakin squirmed in place, hardly daring to breathe himself as the unease in his stomach grew a fraction larger. “I’ve been talking to a few of the crèche-minders you’ve been working with.” Anakin swallowed, thoughts flitting towards the many mistakes he’d made the last few months and especially at first. “They’ve given you rather glowing reviews if I do say so myself,” he said, a small but pleased curl in his lips. And Anakin—

Anakin blinked.

“Really?” he asked, and wished the question hadn’t come out quite so bewildered. His master grinned and Anakin swore there was pride gleaming somewhere in his eyes.

“Really. They’ve enjoyed having you there. Knight D’nali says you have an uncanny ability for distraction,” Obi-Wan teased. Anakin stuck his tongue out and earned himself a bark of laughter. “Master Benni,” he continued, sobering once more, “made an interesting suggestion when I spoke to him last week. I—” Obi-Wan stopped. Inhaled.

“Master?”

A fine tremor had started in Anakin’s hands at some point. Excitement at first, quickly drowned out by a fresh wave of nerves. He’d once thought, at first, that Tatooine would drown in rain the day Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t have a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. A nearly three-year partnership with the knight had broken the facade a bit by now, but the sight of Obi-Wan struggling to put his thoughts together unnerved Anakin even after his master smiled reassuringly, reaching forward to clasp one of Anakin’s hands between both of his.

“There are many paths to becoming a Jedi, as I’m sure you’ve learned by now. Guardians, Council members, diplomats, teachers … crèche-minders,” he said, emphasizing the last. Anakin’s breath caught, eyes wide as the implication sunk slowly in.

“Did— Did Master Benni,” Anakin started, strangled and halting. Obi-Wan nodded. “But—But I’m horrible with younglings! I’ve made so many mistakes. I—”

“You are learning, Anakin. No one expects you to be perfect at anything. Much less in dealing with younglings.” Anakin opened his mouth. Closed it. Floundered in his incomprehension until—

“Are you … Are you getting rid of me?” he asked, voice suddenly small and hurt. He turned his hand in Obi-Wan’s grip, wrapping his smaller fingers around his master’s wrist as if he would disappear from Anakin’s sight at any moment.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly, one of his thumbs stroking the back of Anakin’s hand. “You are my padawan, Anakin, and I will never abandon you.” Obi-Wan paused there, earnest and scorching in his focus until Anakin nodded, more numb than anything else at the moment. Satisfied, his master continued: “But I do think that this is a good opportunity for you.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked down to their hands and then back up, meeting Anakin’s once more, steady and confident and calm. “You’ve changed a little since you’ve been around the crèches. I can see a confidence in you that wasn’t there before, and better control. Not just with the Force, though I’ve no doubt entertaining younglings for hours has done wonders.” Anakin flushed, fuzzy warmth buzzing in his chest at the praise.

“You feel things — everything — so strongly, Anakin, and I fear I’ve not been able to help you much in that regard.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut when Obi-Wan held a hand up for silence and settled for a quiet pout instead, much to his master’s amusement.

“I appreciate your faith in me,” he said with a nod, “and I do not doubt that you would learn a lot at my side alone. But I’m coming to realize where you might need more than I am able to give, not because I don’t want to. Force knows I’d do whatever I could to help you, Anakin, but there are simply things I won’t be able to understand. Haven’t been able to understand,” he added and Anakin frowned at the brief, bitter note he could pick out in his master’s tone. “Master Benni’s offer has as much to do with your potential as it does with your connection to both the initiates and their minders. I— We think it’s something you should consider, despite how it’s likely not the path you first envisioned for yourself.

“You will still be my padawan, always,” he said and squeezed Anakin’s hand to reinforce the sentiment, “but you would split your time between myself and a rotating number of the crèche’s minders under Master Benni’s supervision. You’ll be busy, and kept in the Temple more often than not even if I’m sent out on missions. It may cut into your classes or lightsaber training, in which case you’ll have to work harder to keep up, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that you could do it.”

Anakin nodded, mind whirling and thoughts spinning. There was more Obi-Wan wanted to say, he could tell, but Anakin was grateful for the lull granted to him to gather his thoughts.

“I—” Anakin swallowed, his throat and mouth suddenly dry. He held his master’s wrist a fraction tighter. “Can I think about it?” He winced at how his voice cracked, but Obi-Wan only nodded, smile still firmly in place.

“Of course. You don’t have to decide on anything until you’re ready. Master Benni made it quite clear to me that the offer is open to you whenever you wish to take it, whether that time is now or after you’ve been knighted.”

Anakin blinked, balking at the magnitude of not only the offer, but the old Master’s apparent faith in him, even as the buzzing warmth from earlier threatened to consume him fully now. He felt a fresh flush rise on his cheeks and a sheen of stinging tears prick at his eyes, held back by sheer force of will because he refused to waste the water just yet. Slowly, carefully, Obi-Wan squeezed his hand before leaning forward, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Anakin’s outer tunic. When he pulled, Anakin went as easily as he used to into his mother’s arms, overwhelmingly grateful for the contact just then.

“I’ll think about it, Master,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s robes, his face pressed into his master’s chest. “Thanks.”

Obi-Wan only hummed in response, tucking Anakin close and rubbing soothing circles into his back while Anakin clutched at him in return.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #crechemaster anakin #creche master anakin #my fanfic #i've been enamored with this au for the longest time lol #so i'm excited to finally be working on my own spin so to speak

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sserpente · 5 years ago

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A/N: Requests from @bi-readytobakepie-cry-and-die, @walkinoxymoron, @mysticalflowerroadprune, @thenocturnalsyren and two anons. I have an order here, chips with extra fluff? Anyone? You asked for fluff, you’re getting fluff—and the chips, too. 🍟

Words: 2975 Warnings: pure fluff, sleep paralysis

You spun around when your attacker lunged, acting surprised. He had you cornered, with no way to run—or so he thought. It was a devilish smirk that curled your lips upwards when he aimed to stab the thin air surrounding your illusion as it disappeared right before his eyes. He screamed, anger and frustration getting the better of him. It was his last mistake before you pierced his head with an arrow. You used a small crossbow attached to your right wrist to shoot your enemies, usually refrained from fighting up close. You were simply not the type. Besides, you hated the feeling of blood that was not your own on your skin.

You had been hunting these people all the way to New York now. Cleopatra would be truly proud of you. But those artefacts were not only of personal value for you and your heritage but also extremely dangerous which in the wrong hands could cause a lot of damage—and the most selfish part of you, so you knew, wanted to keep them all to yourself.

There was only one of them left now and quite apparently, you had received some unknown help. You were not the only one hunting the man who was quite likely aiming to have Assassin’s Creed come to life as he climbed over every rock and piece of debris he could find to get away. Although you were grateful for their aid, you couldn’t help but wonder what it was they wanted from him.

Stopping dead in your tracks when he came to a sudden halt, you moved behind a metal barrel and observed how a woman with ginger hair and a black suit fired three shots. Not a single one missed its target. Dead. The spook was finally over. Now all you still needed was that contract hidden in one of his pockets.

“Hey, there’s another one!” The mechanical voice was coming from above you when you emerged from your hiding spot and attempted to approach the corpse. Looking up to find a man wearing a red and gold suit, you barely had the time to spin back around when another man on their team—short hair, with a bow and arrow as his weapon of choice—unceremoniously aimed at you.

“No, stop!” Your eyes widened, reflexes kicking in. You felt the familiar tingling in your body whenever you teleported, leaving an illusion behind and letting the archer’s arrow hurtling through the empty spot you had stood in less than a second ago. Rude… “I believe we are on the same side.” They jumped when you reappeared behind them.

You struggled to remember their names, purpose and story. The woman with the red hair was called Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow for short. Former assassin, she now worked with this secret organisation called SHIELD. There was Tony Stark—billionaire and Iron Man and Steve Rogers aka Captain America who spent seventy years frozen in the sea. The man who had almost killed you had you not been supernaturally gifted was called Clint Barton and sometimes Hawkeye. You were familiar with Thor of course. How could you not be? You had grown up reading about gods and goddesses… being one yourself.

“The question is… who are you?” Tony Stark had removed his suit by now and revealed an average-sized man.

“My name is (Y/N)—not a fancy superhero name, I know.”

“And you practice magic,” Thor tossed in with crossed arms.

“Magic? No. I cast illusions. My father was human, like most of you. My mother on the other end… are you familiar with the tale of Persephone and Hades?”

Tony Stark raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you’re a Greek goddess?”

“Half-goddess. I prefer the term hybrid.” You usually wore contacts to hide your true eye colour. It was much more saturated than others.

Alarmed, you turned when someone else entered the room. They had taken your crossbow from you just to be sure but to be fair, you could bring it back into your possession in the twinkling of an eye.

“Where have you been, Reindeer Games? We could have needed you out there.”

“Urgent matters.” A smooth, mysterious and dark voice stated simply—mockingly almost. While you sincerely doubted that his name really was Reindeer Games, for some peculiar reason you were dying to learn who he was. Raven hair, blue eyes and those sharp cheekbones… his clothing looked Asgardian, too. He was definitely not human. Neither were you, depending on how you looked at it.

Electricity rippled through you when your eyes met. The strange Asgardian made no move, whatsoever though, to introduce himself.

“You will be…?” You asked with a polite smile.

Natasha frowned suspiciously. “He is…”

“Loki,” he interrupted her hurriedly, dashing you a smile as he did. “Thor’s brother, I am afraid to say.” You laughed when the God of Thunder shot him a playfully hurt glance.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Loki.”

“She lived on the moon, didn’t she?” Clint murmured.

Tony pursed his lips. “Where did you come from?”

“Egypt. I spent the last six years in Egypt.”

“Right… and what is a Greek goddess doing in Egypt?”

“Half-goddess—and I told I don’t like being called that. I was working with archaeologists and securing sacred artefacts. You know… objects like the box of Pandora.” You winked at him.

The Avengers, so they called themselves, exchanged puzzled looks—almost as if they were in on a secret you were yet to learn about.

“I see. You best stay away from… well. (Y/N), Loki is…” Clint started.

“…determined to show you around.” The God of Mischief interrupted him sharply, directing all of his attention to you. “What is it you can do then?”

“I cast illusions.”

You smirked when his eyebrows rose in an impressed manner and he offered you his arm to make you decide in that moment that you liked him.

By now, around three months had passed since you more or less joined the Avengers. They had helped you return the artefacts to Egypt and Loki… Loki and you had found yourselves spending a lot of time together and getting to know one another. He was wonderful. Intelligent, witty, mischievous and thoughtful and even quite introverted when it came to talking about his inner thoughts and feelings. There was something he was not telling you though—something that Thor too was making the Avengers keep silent about.

Whatever it was… perhaps one day, he would be ready to tell you. You were not going to pressure him into anything. You had your own skeletons in your closet—which was why you were beginning to fall in love with him—and the reason your heart almost leaped out of your chest when Steve and Thor returned without him from one of their latest missions which had entailed the words venom, dwarves and drinking water.

You had been against them wandering off on their own and without any backup, especially if something otherworldly was involved. Thor was quite megalomaniac, so you had figured. His ‘that’s what heroes do’ attitude made you want to slap him every now and then. Loki never considered himself as a hero and for some peculiar reason the Avengers never bothered to treat him as such either.

“Where is Loki?!”

They were bruised, injured and covered in blood. You did not even want to imagine what they must have dealt with. The book you had been reading flew over the sofa as you hurried to confront them.

Thor shook his head. He was still out of breath.

“We don’t know,” Steve answered you instead. “He disappeared shortly before the explosion. He might still have been in the building.”

“The explosion?!” You shrieked. “Well, why didn’t you look for him?”

“The dwarves were still there.” Dwarves. If only they were harmless. They certainly looked the part—right until they tried to scratch your eyes out with their tiny and venomous claws.

“Okay, you two, into my lab. Bruce just got back from England concerning the venom, (Y/N), you calm down. Loki goes to ground all the time.”

“Why are you all acting like he does not matter? What is wrong with you, Stark?”

“What’s wrong? He is a fucking crim—“

“Stark!” Thor roared. Indignantly, you shook your head as they hurried out of the room. “Don’t worry too much about him, (Y/N)!” You heard him yell to you. “You don’t know Loki like I do!”

This was starting to get ridiculous. But you had no time to ponder over this—you were way too worried for him, right until something crashed into the living room and broke the glass table in front of the sofa. No, not something. Someone.

“Loki!” Thank the stars. He must have teleported himself out of there. He was covered in dirt and dust, a laceration on his forehead. His blue eyes met yours for only a brief second before the adrenaline in his body died down and he fell unconscious.

The venom. Loki was an Asgardian god. If the dwarves’ venom affected him so strongly… he was sweating, too. With all your strength, you heaved him on the sofa and slid a cushion under his head. None of the other Avengers would be back anytime soon anyway.

You left for only a brief moment, returning with a wet cloth to cool his skin and clean his wound. There was nothing else you could do for him except for watching over him to make sure he healed.

“Loki… get well soon, my king.” He had told you about his desire to claim the throne, to be the first choice for once. He certainly was your king. “Get well soon so I can kiss you.”

Smiling, you gripped his hand tighter, leaning against the sofa. You had always slept like this back in Egypt. You had worked with a young archaeologist only a few years younger than yourself. Your sleep paralysis—something you had not even told Loki about just yet made it hard to restfully slumber at night. She on the other hand had had nyctophobia—fear of the dark. It had been hard to leave her behind, knowing she had become something like a sister. Since then, sleep had rarely come to you… until you had met Loki and now knew you could always spend the entire night talking to him instead.

Holding his hand now and feeling his warmth and his presence filled you with joy. Before you even knew it, you had fallen asleep next to him, kneeling on the ground. Unbeknownst to you, however, the God of Mischief had still been awake the entire time and heard every single word you had said. Kiss me? He thought—the last one before he slid back into unconsciousness.

When he woke again, you were still there, holding his hand. He smiled. It was nice, knowing that somebody cared for him. It made the pain the venom caused as it cursed through his veins a lot more bearable. Tomorrow, he figured, he would be over the worst. And then his smile suddenly disappeared. She only cares for you because she doesn’t know what you’ve done, a scornful voice in his mind whispered.

Loki clenched his fists. He rolled his eyes when he discovered Thor sneakily peeking into the room.

“What happened?” He croaked. It was an unnecessary question, really. He knew what had happened. He was just too weak to nag ‘What do you want’.

“She fell asleep over three hours ago, Loki. I tried to wake her but she refuses to leave your side.”

Loki looked him directly in the eye, his heart skipping a beat. She refuses to leave your side. “Why have you been so keen on keeping a secret from her what I did in New York?” He asked, taking his chance now that they were alone. For once, there was honest curiosity in his voice.

Thor hesitated. Then, he shrugged. “Because you were.” It was all he replied. He understood then. Just this one time, his brainless brother understood why it was so important to him to keep from you what had made him, in the Avengers’ eyes, a villain. He just wondered for how much longer he could keep up the act.

With a gentle smile, Thor turned to leave the room. “I knew you would make it out.” He added before he disappeared. Loki rolled his eyes yet again, albeit amused.

Perhaps it was wrong. He would never find peace living in constant fear that you would find out on your own and hate him like all the other Avengers did. He took a deep breath when you opened your eyes—and for the first time in a long while, he was at loss for words. What should he first say to you? Should he thank you? Ask if you had had pleasant dreams?

“Good morning, my dear.” He eventually opted; to his utter shock, however, your eyes widened. You did not move, not a single inch and yet, your eyes proved you were awake. Did you already know? Had he scared you somehow, or done something in his half-unconscious state?

Anytime now they would appear—those pitch black monsters with the long claws and the terrifying red glowing eyes. You had seen them in a film as a child and ever since then, they had become the personification of your fear. Rejection, repulsion, hatred, loneliness… they all meant to grab you. Falling asleep, you had been holding Loki’s hand, so why had your sleep paralysis returned?

The sorrow, you answered yourself. You were worrying for Loki when you fell asleep. Was he still here with you, on the sofa? You could not see him. Instead, over the backrest, crawled the first monster. It stared at you darkly, making your eyes widen in fear and then, out of the blue, another one reached for you from behind, beginning to shake you. Shake you? That was new. They usually never managed to actually touch you, you always brought yourself to wake up in time.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N), are you alright?” Loki. Blinking frantically, you fought hard to move your limbs, to tense and relax your muscles repeatedly to fully wake up. When you finally did, you were met with a very concerned Loki. “What is happening to you? You started screaming at me.”

“I did? I’m sorry…” One deep breath, then two, then three. “I was… nightmare. Never mind. Are you feeling better?”

“A nightmare? That did not look like a simple nightmare.” Loki knew what nightmares looked like. He had them all the time, after all.

“Maybe not. But I don’t want to burden you with that. You seem to be having your own problems.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He spat, sitting up and putting his feet on the ground fast.

“Loki, there is obviously something you are trying to keep a secret from me.”

“So you mistrust me?” He responded with a quiet voice.

“I don’t mistrust you,” you insisted, cupping his cheek. “I just feel like there is something you are not ready to tell me about yet and until then… it would be unfair to rant about my problems instead.”

Loki looked up. Regret was sparkling in his blue eyes—regret along with remorse. You do not even deserve her, the voice whispered.

“I am a criminal.” He suddenly said, the word murderer not quite leaving his lips.

“What? What are you saying?”

“A little over five years ago, I invaded this planet in an attempt to rule it. I was blinded by a promise which could never be held and betrayed not only Thor but also myself.”

“You did… what?” Your lips parted. I invaded this planet.

“It matters not. Thanos is dead now.”

“Thanos? Thanos made you do this?”

“No,” he snapped. “The sceptre, it… I killed many innocent people, (Y/N). It was only a small price to pay for the recognition I sought.” He looked you dead in the eye. “I regret making these sacrifices but at the same time… I do not.” He was torn. You could feel it burning in his stunning eyes.

“Why did you never tell me that?”

Loki scoffed scornfully. “I assumed you would despise me like everyone else if you knew. I took lives, (Y/N). I took lives for my own gain. I am not a hero, I never will be.” And he did not want to be, so you figured. You did not despise him. Quite on the contrary… you were only falling for him more and more. The pain that Thanos had inflicted on him still sat deep. He blamed himself, assuming it was no one else but him who deserved to be called evil and a villain.

Actions might comfort him more than your words could now. So you leaned in, placing your palms on his thighs for balance and tenderly pressed your lips against his. If anything, the God of Mischief was taken aback, still, the moment you joined for a hesitant kiss, his eyes fell shut. With a sigh, he cupped your face and pulled you closer, his tongue asking for entrance almost timidly. For now, explaining to him what sleep paralysis was and how it tormented you at night could wait.

“I don’t hate you,” you breathed out once you parted again, desperate for oxygen. Your lips were swollen—his were too, a little. “I think I am falling for you, Loki Odinson.”

His expression was hopeful, vulnerable even—so unlike his usual cool and confident demeanour. His smile, honest and raw, was contagious.

“I heard you,” he admitted. “I heard you promising to kiss me once I woke up.”

Biting back a joyful laugh, you kissed him once more.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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avada-kedavrugh · 4 years ago

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Biggest Mistake

Summary | Imagine Jimin is your best friend and you’re hopelessly in love with him. See what happens with a fun old sprinkle of angst :)

This was a fan fiction I wrote like 2 years ago and I haven’t reread it properly but felt like posting it here

Pairing | Jimin x Reader

Genre | Unrequited? Love AU/ Best friend’s AU

Words | 2975

The blinding smile on his face grew as his eyes caught sight of you, the smile growing into a glowing grin that only became larger as he broke into a sprint, running towards you, mouthing the words you always longed to hear him say…

The thunderous sound of slamming against your front door was the rude interruption to your heavenly dream, a sigh escaped your lips as you struggled to open one eye, which quickly became disoriented to the sudden entry of dim light that squeezed itself through the curtains as you made an attempt to find out the time the demonic invader had decided to arrive.

Your eyes caught sight of your phone and with immense effort you attempted to perch forward and reach your phone, surprisingly, finding yourself crashing onto the floor in a wave of duvet and hair and an immense wave of pain.

“Y/N…” You heard a recognisable voice yell, probably disturbed by the loud sound, unaware of the sound that raced from your own chest “Are you alright?”

With a new and sudden wave of motivation you found yourself quickly stumbling towards the door, trying to make yourself look at least a tiny bit presentable after being woken up in the middle of the fucking night, or as some might say, 7am. Finally, opening the door you sighed, remembering the dream you had previously been indulging yourself in that had now been annoying ruined by your visitor.

“It’s my day off Ji-“ You began to complain.

That was until your eyes caught sight of him, the bowl cut blonde with a wide grin that only managed to make your own mouth fall as you took in the astonishing sight that you sadly were still not used to.

“Are you okay Y/N?” He eyebrows furrowing in concern as your eyes kept fixed upon his face

“Ye-Yeah,” You finally spluttered out, mouth moving back into an acceptable position of non-drawling “I thought I had been pranked, I almost didn’t see you down there” You teased, memorising the mix of amusement and irritation in his face as he moved closer to you, making your heart race, only worsened as he lightly hit your arm before brushing past you, entering your home, and simultaneously your heart.

“So, what brings you here?” You spoke, finally feeling the tiredness escape as your heart seemingly raced into action under the drowning beauty of Jimin.

“Well…I need you.”

Your eyes popped out of your sockets, as you looked at him, mouth once again mimicking that of a fish, as you attempted to splutter out a response while he just continued to smirk to himself, watching the red flush that spread across your cheeks.

“I need you to help me buy Hyuna a present.” He finally finished, gaging your reaction as you gradually returned to a mostly composed, perhaps almost human-like figure.

“Oh. Any reason? Or are you two just that lovey dovey?” You mocked, mind flashing back to the disgusting sights of Jimin with his tongue down her throat or with his arm snaked around her waist, the pair tightly wrapped together.

“It’s almost Valentine’s Day.” Jimin said, his eyes flickering with pity as you realised the date, realised your loneliness, and realised how fucked you were for falling in love with your best friend, particularly one that was now doing very well drowning his girlfriend with his tongue, completely unaware of the tears of sorrow you drowned yourself in after seeing the two together.

“Really? Where’s my date then?” You chuckled, his face finally lighting up

“Aren’t I good enough?” He laughed

“Of course, you are, but there’s something sort of in the way, the lil issue of your girlfriend, maybe?” You joked back, most of you hoping he never realisd the truth within your jokes, though a sinister part of you begs for him to realise and finally confess his feelings to you, feelings, that were definitely non-existent.

Snapping back up to look at him you found his eyes looking at you with an unrecognisable expression, almost reading your own eyes for something, maybe he would finally understand the feeling of drowning in his eyes.

“I’ll help,” You started, snapping him out of his daze, as his eyes and lips curled up into a smile, grabbing your coat and shoes, ignoring how disastrous you looked at the dumb hour of the morning that you were sure, no one – except Jimin the clearly inhuman being – was awake at “Let’s go.”

You found yourself utterly wrong about the lack of humanity in a shopping centre at 7:30am, convincing you of the insanity of the human race. You had your hand clutched to Jimin's wrist as you attempted to manoeuvre out of the way of the groups of people emerging in the shops, silently judging you for your atrocious, ape-like appearance while you stood beside the groomed, angelic boy who was prepared for all the girls that threw glances obvious at him. Feeling the eyes on you, your heart racing and your mind repeating insults to yourself, you desperately entered a store, ignoring its contents as you tried to find an empty area to allow yourself to prepare for the judgemental stares the people gave. Summoning up all your courage you finally stopped and turned to look at the man who had just allowed you to drag him into the abandoned corner of a random store, his eyes observing the contents of the store around him.

“Did you have any ideas?” You asked him, his eyes finally snapping to meet yours with a hearty chuckle as his response

"Well certainly not this stuff." He laughed, throwing a look towards the items around the store. You turned your eyes towards the shelves, taking in the stacks of nappies that lined them, allowing yourself to glance around the store your eyes took in colourful toys, baby clothes, tiny items of furniture and the staff at the front of the store that had their eyes fixed upon the two of you, smiling as they whispered between each other.

You had bought Jimin to a baby store, you had bought Park fucking Jimin to a baby store.

"Are you really this lonely Y/N?" He began to tease, a smirk etched into his face as you furrowed your eyebrows at him

"I understand, it's okay…” Your face shone a bright shade of red while Jimin just continued to shine like the angel he was, despite his demonic teasing “I'll be your baby daddy."

His crude joke emphasised by his wink caused you to choke as you wished he would shut up as he laughed at your embarrassment

"I think I'd want someone way more attractive to be the father of my child." You finally muttered back, his teasing taking all your confidence as his own eyebrows rose to question you further but after a moment of silence he finally continued.

"Well, Tae's free." He wiggled his eyebrows slightly "And it is Valentine' Day soon." The suggestion bought your face to complete redness as you delivered a slight slap to his arm and a glare. He finally went silent before turning around and throwing a look to you

"Let's go?" You asked

"Really? I was looking forward to looking at all these nappies" He teased before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you out.

“Lingerie, really?” You spluttered, eyes wide when you finally realised Jimin’s destination as he dragged you towards the store. You didn’t think it could get any worse than being woken up early in the morning, dragged to the mall then being judged for your untamed hair, baggy clothes and exhausted face, topped off by pulling your crush into a baby store, but no, like most of your ideas, you had been entirely wrong – something you only realised as your face grew to be the same crimson colour of the lacy bra in the stores window.

“Come on, what else would you get your girlfriend for Valentine’s Day? Don’t pretend none of your boyfriend’s have ever given you lingerie.” Your eyes left his face as he mentioned the word ‘boyfriend’, instead they became intrigued in the plain wooden flooring of the lingerie store, eyes avoiding both Jimin and the underwear around you. You had had boyfriend’s in the past, well, a boyfriend.

His name was, well, is Jungkook. You had been teenagers when you got together, still living for the adventure and thrill of life which made for a whirlwind romance. The relationship began in the long summer days, days spent curled up beside Jungkook – playing Overwatch, reading comic books or going for road trips. Meanwhile, the nights were spent curled up beneath Jungkook in a typical teenage lust fuelled night. Looking back on it, you had abandoned Jimin, ignoring his messages or avoiding him when you saw him, but when the long summer days ended and the cold winter began to settle in, the warmth between you and Jungkook began to vanish until finally you both decided it was time. It was that day when you finally went to see Jimin, tears running down your face, his eyes looked at you with concern over spilling from the edges of his wide eyes before pulling you into a hug and never mentioning the months you had avoided him, ignoring his messages for days and finally replying to his messages with a blunt response. You had spent the cold night sat nestled beside him on his bed, a level of intimacy you had been having with another boy only a few days before, a boy you had now lost despite the times you told each other “I love you”. You like to tell yourself that was your excuse, your excuse for what happened next, sometimes you even wonder what his was.

He had kissed you. Jimin. Jimin had kissed you. Lip on lip. His hands had tugged you closer to him, trying to conjoin the two of you, your lips already joined in a heart-warming, intimate kiss. That you returned. He had pushed you against his bed, his body hovering over you, eyes flickering between concern, lust and an unrecognisable emotion. His eyes scanned over your face, searing into your skin as he searched for something, his eyes almost pleading to register something from your face. Sensing his conflict, you finally nodded, another mistake you had made that day, another one you liked to excuse with the argument of being a heartbroken teenager, still desperate for a thrill. His lips curled up into a smile though his eyes continued their search with concern flickering in his eyes.

You made another mistake, you pulled him down towards you, tugging on his white t-shirt that clung onto the muscles that were carved into his body. His lips finally reconnected with yours, more lust in the kiss as his hands started to journey across your body, taking their time while you desperately kissed him. His body was pressed against yours, the throb in your stomach worsened by the feel of his muscles against yours and his member prodding against your thigh. Your hands quickly moved down his upper body, memorising his muscles along the way as your hand found itself by his crotch, preparing to please him. Sensing your intentions, his hand curled up around your wrist, ceasing your desires as he slightly pulled himself away. His eyes, that drowned with emotion, taking in the sight of your face as the sound of heavy breathing filled the room.

“Why did you stop?” You finally sighed, eyes mirroring his previous look of concern. The room remained silent as his eyes, that hid so many emotions, continued to memorise each detail of your face. “Did I do something wrong?” His mouth remained shut, his eyes looking conflicted. “Jimin?” You called to him, trying to awake the boy that had awoken a desperate lust in you.

His eyes finally stopped darting across your face, meeting yours as he gave you a hasty shake of his head “You did nothing wrong,” He muttered “It was better than how I always imagined it would be…”

You never got to question him about that, you were about to, your eyebrows curling down as you realised the implications held in his words. You opened your mouth about to ask him but immediately closed it, not in fear of what could happen to your relationship, but because of your realisation of the internal conflict he was clearly having, as his eyes became emotionless.

“Jimin…” You began, hand reaching out to stroke his cheek, attempting to caress his hidden words from his puffy lips that desperately held them in.

After all your mistakes, his finally came. This was his mistake.

“I love you.” The words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them, his eyes flashing in fear as he looked at you again.

That was his mistake, and your next one was pushing him off, darting out of his room, rushing down the stairs, slamming his front door and running all the way back home. But your biggest mistake was falling in love with him.

“Hyuna would also look really hot in lingerie…or anything…or nothing.” Jimin’s words finally snapped you out of your thoughts, as you gave him a light slap to the arm and a look of disgust.

“Ew, next you’ll be telling me about your porn collection.” His mouth opened as he was about to speak, his smirk worrying you so you quickly interrupted him “Don’t even dare Park Jimin.”

His plump lips – that you wish were moving to kiss yours - moved into a pout as he feigned pain but his acting was ruined by the amusement evident in his bright eyes.

“Awh, really Y/N?” His elbow lightly jabbed you as he attempted to tease you, making you forget all the people in the store “You sure? What if I’m in it?”

“Then I don’t want to watch some vomit inducing porn Jimin.” You returned, a smirk curling up on your lips as his pout became more prominent as he mimicked a child. You laughed at him as he returned it, the sound of his laughter singing in your ears making your grin only wider.

“I bet you would watch it if Tae was in it.” He smirked back

“Of course.” You winked at him, enjoying his acting as he once again pretended be offended, hand dramatically falling against his forehead.

“I hate you Y/N.”

“You love me really.” You teased, preparing for your next teasing comment.

But his next words left you wordless and instead a spluttering mess of a human as his eyes returned to yours, his voice sounding sincere “I do.”

Your mind flashed back to that moment over a year ago in his bedroom, maybe you would finally get your chance to confess, kiss him and never see him with Hyuna again Your mind was buzzing, words stumbling in your mind, Jimin’s face remained expressionless as his eyes read yours.

“Wh-Wha-What?” You finally spluttered out

His face changed into a look of amusement as he finally replied “What did you expect Y/N? You are my best friend.” He lavished in your embarrassment as your eyes darted away from him once again, taking in the sight of people quickly glancing away from the two of you, trying to hide the clear fact that they had been listening in. Your embarrassment worsened and an anger grew in you as you realised people had watched your commotion and probably witnessed how flustered his words made you.

“Jimin, you can’t just say that stuff.” You growled, attempting to glare at him with a menacing look, which he just frowned at.

“Why not Y/N?” He began “You are my best friend.”

“Because…because what if I thought you were being serious?” His eyes flashed with emotion before he looked at you again with a confused look

“What if I thought you actually, properly liked me?” You continued, leaving his mouth falling open “You can’t just say that shit to me Jimin. You can’t just act like I’m one of your male friends, have a girlfriend, a girlfriend you want me to help you buy lingerie for and then tell me you love me. It doesn’t work like that Jimin. What if I actually liked you? I don’t. But if I did maybe you’d be hurting my feelings?” His eyes and mouth were wide as he looked at you with shock, the silence between you became deafening as you began to drown in the look upon his face. You finally shook your head, beginning to turn away from him. Maybe you could finally fix your mistakes.

“Just forget it Jimin. I’m going to go. Please don’t try to message me Jimin, I really won’t want to talk to you.” You started to walk away, the prying eyes of the people around you darting to look at the floor in front of them that seemingly held all their interest. Jimin’s eyes didn’t dart away and watched your figure as you took another step away, you stopped suddenly, releasing a sigh before turning back to look at him. Jimin hoped for a moment you were going to stay with him, though he realised it was selfish, an utterly selfish desire that he didn’t even have any guilt for having.

“You should buy Hyuna some purple silky lingerie, she liked it before.” Your finger pointing towards a set of lingerie that had caught your eye and had also caught Hyuna’s a few weeks ago when you had been forced to go shopping with her, Jimin’s eyes didn’t follow your finger and instead widened at your words, shocked by your final words to him after such a dramatic goodbye. And then you walked away. And he didn’t run after you.

Perhaps that was Jimin’s biggest mistake.

#bts #jimin #park jimin #bts angst #bts fluff #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin scenario #jimin imagine #jimin drabble #bts scenario #bts imagine #best friend au #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jungkook #cherubts

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12daysofmystrade · 4 years ago

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Day 12 of the Advent Calendar!

To end the Calendar and to celebrate the New Year, the three authors and organizers of this event, Johanna, Carla and Sky, have prepared a special story, written with six hands! We hope you appreciate this surprise as much as we had fun doing it!

Pairing(s) : Mystrade

Summary : Mycroft and Greg are at Sherlock and John's small party for New Year's Eve, but the evening is tense. Are they ready to reveal their relationship to friends and family?

Words: 2975 words

Read What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve on AO3 now! Don't forget to leave gifts for the authors in the form of kudos and comments! Let's spread some love on this new year!

#advent calendar #mystrade advent calendar #12 days of mystrade #Mystrade #sherlock bbc #day 12 #fanfic #new year #new year's eve

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 5 years ago

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Chapter One - Hello Chicago

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93, you rock!

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC)

Warnings: None.

Wordcount: 2975

Three weeks ago:

It was a beautiful summer day in Chicago, the sun was high in the sky while a warm breeze fanned the air, providing some much needed relief from the scorching sun. Beth had just moved into a cozy little apartment on West Wolcott, a seemingly friendly neighbourhood that she hadn't really had the time to explore yet. One thing she had noticed though, was the little bar on the corner, Molly’s. It reminded her of the last place she worked at back in New York before she picked up her life and headed for the windy city. On this particular day, she saw a ‘help wanted’ sign on the bulletin board outside, and without thinking twice, she climbed the three steps and walked inside. A little bell above the intricate mahogany door chimed, and before it even closed behind her, three confused faces looked up at her from a table near the bar.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” the woman in the group said, offering Beth a friendly smile as she did.

“Oh…” Beth started, looking between the three of them. The woman was a beautiful latina, around Beth's age, with a kind smile. One of the men, the older one of them, looked like he was in his mid forties maybe, and the other one was around Beth's age, maybe a couple years younger. He had big brown puppy dog eyes and a thick mustache. “I just saw the help wanted sign outside, and figured I'd see if you had an application I could fill out,” she explained. “But I can come back later,” she suggested when there was no answer. It felt as though she had walked into something here. She didn't know them, but it seemed as if there was a sadness behind their smiles.

“Nonsense,” the older man exclaimed, getting to his feet. “Come sit down.”

Beth put down her groceries at the door and went to join them.

“I'm Christopher Herrmann,” he introduced, shaking Beth's hand. “That's Gabriella Dawson-” Beth shook her hand too. “And this here is Otis,” he said, patting the guy's shoulder.

“Brian,” the younger man corrected.

“Nice to meet you all. I'm Beth Andrews.”

“So you’re looking for a job?” Gabriella wondered.

“Yeah. I just moved in down the street last week, and I saw the sign upfront today,” she explained.

“You have any experience, kid?” Herrmann asked in a very prominent Chicago accent.

“I do. Spent the last ten years working as a bartender in New York. Two different nightclubs for about five years and then nearly five year's at a neighbourhood bar like this,” she explained. “Then I moved here. I have references,” she added.

“Any other work experience?” he wondered.

“Yeah. I was a paramedic with the New York Firedepartment for eight years. We were on 24 hours and off for 48, so it was easy enough to combine with other jobs.”

The three of them shared an amused look and Beth wondered if she had said something wrong.

“We all work for the CFD at house 51 here in town. Gabby is a paramedic, Herrmann and I are on truck,” Otis explained, and Beth chuckled at the coincidence.

“Paramedic for now,” Gabby corrected. “I've graduated from the academy, and hope to start fighting fires soon.”

“Really? Congrats,” Beth offered.

“Thank you,” Gabby said with a wide smile. “Are you looking to be a paramedic here in Chicago too, or?”

“Not really, no. I got injured on the job and the more time passed, the harder it was to get back to it. I made a real effort about three months ago, but the job had changed for me,” Beth tried to explain, hoping that a fellow paramedic would understand.

“Alright,” Herrmann dragged. “So why Chicago?”

“Heard you guys were hiring. Couldn't let that opportunity slip through my fingers,” Beth joked with a coy smile, looking between the three of them.

Gabby looked at the other two and nodded before looking back at Beth. “Welcome to Molly’s.”

“Really?” Beth exclaimed.

“Yep,” Herrmann confirmed. “Be here at five and we’ll get you settled in.”

***

And that was how Beth landed her job at Molly’s. A job that she absolutely loved. Never had she imagined that a simple bartender job would come with such a wide network of people and friends, but Molly’s had that family vibe to it. It was a place where firefighters, police officers, and doctors came to hang their hat and try to find a good end to an otherwise shitty day at work, or a place to celebrate the good days. She found many acquaintances during her first three weeks, but also some good friends… like Gabby.

After Beth had Gabriella and her fiancee - who was a lieutenant at firehouse 51 - Matt Casey over for dinner, Gabby had convinced her to come to the house and cook for them all, which she gladly did. One thing she had learned through her year's working at NYFD was that the fastest way to a firefighter’s heart was through their stomachs.

Firehouse 51 was still mourning the loss of one of their paramedics, Leslie Shay, who had died on the job just a few weeks before Beth rolled into town. Her death still cast a shadow over the place, but they were all trying to get back to normal. A normal that would be hard to find before the lieutenant of Squad 3 came back from his furlough. Kelly Severide had been Shay’s best friend, and the one that took her death the hardest. No one had seen or heard from him since Shay’s funeral, and they were all starting to wonder if he would ever return to the station at all.

Beth hoped that a good meal would help cheer them up a bit, even if it was just for a little while.

“This smells amazing, Beth,” Cruz complimented as he hovered over her in the kitchen. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Yeah… Tell them the story,” Gabby said with a chuckle, not looking up from the magazine she was flipping through.

“Alright,” Beth dragged, very aware that all eyes were on her all of a sudden. “I was dating this guy back when I was nineteen. He was a really nice guy, but I didn't really see it lasting very long, so when Valentine’s rolled around I didn't want to splurge on a big fancy gift for him. So I got him a pen,” she started explaining.

“You gave a guy a pen for valentines day?” Cruz asked with raised brows.

“Yeah - well- he was studying journalism and I had it engraved.. It was a nice pen, kay? My point is I wasn't too invested in the relationship at this point.”

“As evidenced by the pen,” Otis chimed in, earning himself a bitchface from Beth.

“But it seemed as though he was in a different place then I was at that time, so he gave me a gift certificate for cooking classes, worth about 500 dollars.”

A round of ‘aww’s’ went around the room followed by Gabby’s “Wait for it.”

“For about two seconds I felt really shitty about the 14 dollar pen I had gotten him, so I started telling him that I couldn't accept his gift. That it was too much.. Too generous. He shut me down and told me it was an investment in our future and that - and I quote - he saw real potential in me, but if we were to start a family, he needed to know that I would be able to cook for them.”

Now there was a mixture of ‘eww’s’ and ‘oh, noes,’ going through the room.

“So I took the gift certificate and left. Then I spent 6 weeks learning to cook all these delicious meals that he will never get to taste,” she concluded.

“Good for you, Beth,” Sylvie complimented. She was the newest member of the firehouse, filling Shay’s position after she died. Sylvie was a small town girl that had this sort of careful nature to her. She was very sweet though. Beth liked her a lot.

“I don't get it,” Cruz said with a puzzled look on his face. “He was planning a future with you, isn't that nice?” Coming from anyone else, this comment would probably piss Beth off, but she knew him, and knew that he didn't really mean anything by it.

“He wasn't planning a future with me, he was planning my future for me,” Beth explained. “Look… being a stay at home mom is tough work, and I admire the shit out of those who do it, but at that point I had my own aspirations and goals for my future. It was pretty clear to me that even though he knew all of this, he didn't care as long as he got the family he pictured in his mind.”

“Oh… well… when you put it like that,” Cruz said, an apologetic look on his face.

“It's alright,” Beth assured before she announced to everyone that dinner was ready, and for all of them to dig in.

***

Dinner had been a huge success and she left the house with an open invitation to come back whenever to cook for them, which was their way of telling her that she had been accepted into their little family.

Now she was back behind the bar at Molly’s, which was easily her favorite place in the world right now. Lieutenant Casey had finally been able to track down and convince Lieutenant Severide to come back to Chicago, and they had all decided to throw him a little welcome home party at Molly’s.

Gabby had already been in Beth’s ear about Kelly Severide, warning her that he was a bit of a ladies man, but Beth assured her that she wasn't interested. She was excited to meet him though, besides being a ladies man, Beth had heard a lot of great things about him.

There was a good crowd already at the bar when Kelly finally showed up. The first thing that Beth noticed was that the pictures of him at the station didn't really do him justice. However, it wasn't the ocean blue eyes, or the plump lips, or even the broad shoulders. It was the way he carried himself. Standing tall and confident in his shoes as he was welcomed into the bar with cheers and pats on the back. There were few things more attractive in a man than confidence, Beth thought to herself, but there was a really fine line between confidence and arrogance, and from where she was standing it looked as though he was on the right side of that line. There was something else that she noticed about him, something that saddened her in some inexplicable way. As soon as the charming smile fell from his lips, his expression hardened. Not in an angry or mean looking way, but more… stoic. Like a man carrying around a pain inside of him that he didn't want anyone to see. Like he was trying to hide his vulnerability by appearing unapproachable.

Beth knew that underneath all that, there was a good man. Of course she hadn't met the man yet, but she knew that from the way people spoke about him.

He didn't take a seat at the bar, instead he wedged himself in between two stools and leaned against the counter.

“This is Beth, Molly’s new bartender,” Gabby said and Beth reached over the bar to shake his hand.

“Kelly,” he said, his piercing blue eyes tracking her features. “Nice to meet you.” The hardness of his face melted away as he smiled politely at her, revealing a little gap between his front teeth. It was as though she caught a little glimpse of who he was behind the hard exterior. It was just a flash, a fraction of a second, and then it was gone again.

“You too,” she offered. “What can I get you?”

“Whiskey,” he said simply before he got roped into a conversation with Chief Boden and Casey.

Beth did her best not to stare at the man, but throughout the night she caught herself looking for him, letting her eyes linger whenever they found him while her mind wondered who this man was underneath. Already then she knew she was in trouble

“I knew it,” Gabby said suddenly into her ear. Beth hadn't even seen her approaching.

“What?” she asked, pretending she had no clue what Gabby was on about. “I'm allowed to look,” she defended when her friend sent her a knowing look.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want to do,” Gabby said with a coy smile. “Just know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I'm not gonna get myself into anything,” Beth assured.

“Mhm… Anyway, Matt and I are going to head home. You okay to lock up?” Gabby asked.

The bar was mostly empty now. Just Severide, Cruz, and Otis remained. “Absolutely,” Beth assured. She said goodnight to her friend and then made her way over to the three men. “Last call, boys. What can I get you?”

The level of inebriation around the table was pretty darn high, but considering this was last call and they would be out soon, Beth didn't worry about it too much. As per their request, she grabbed them each a beer and then made her way back behind the bar to start getting ready to close up.

“Hey, Beth,” Kelly suddenly called out, making her spin around. “Come have a drink with us,” he lightly demanded.

She mulled it over for a second before she poured herself a glass of ice water and went to join them.

“What's this?” Kelly asked, pointing to her glass with furrowed brows.

“Water,” she stated simply.

“You don't drink?” he asked, looking into her blue eyes.

“Not at work.” Holy shit was he gorgeous, she thought to herself as she pried her eyes off of the freckles that peppered his nose. She hadn't noticed them earlier, but now that she was so close to him, she could clearly see them. She could still feel his eyes on her when she looked away, but she did her best to ignore the warm feeling that settled in her body under his gaze.

“How are you liking Chicago so far?” Cruz asked.

“It's good,” she said with a bob of her head. “Your pizza sucks though,” she added as an afterthought.

“Oh come on,” Otis exclaimed. “Chicago style beats New York style every day of the week,” he argued, getting support from the other two.

“Uhm.. no. Deep dish pizza tastes like tomato sauce and dough, and nothing more. New York style has the perfect toppings to cheese ratio on a crunchy crust. It's perfection.”

“You’re wrong,” Cruz chimed in. “The thin crust does not support enough toppings. It's structurally unsound.” He gestured as he spoke, as if he was caught in a heated debate about the state of the world or something.

That spiraled into a half an hour long argument about pizza and toppings, ending only when Beth said that she would prove them all wrong by coming into the fire house and cooking them some real pizza. This was met with much enthusiasm.

“Alright, boys. Time to get out so I can close up,” she announced after checking the time.

“You throwing me out of my own bar?” Otis asked as they all got to their feet.

“Damn straight,” she said with a smile, trying to ignore the looks she got from the very handsome lieutenant.

“This because of the pizza thing?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed with a playful smile.

“Never argue with the bartender,” Kelly noted.

“Exactly,” Beth agreed. “Now get out so I can get home,” she ordered.

The three men were still outside waiting for a cab when Beth locked the door behind her. From what she could tell, Kelly was trying to rope the other two into continuing the evening somewhere else, without much luck it seemed like. She felt for him, she really did. Being alone with your thoughts after losing a loved one was hard, she remembered all too vividly what that was like.

“What about you?” he said, looking at Beth. “Wanna come have some drinks with me?”

“Not even a little bit,” she said. It was a lie. She would very much like to go with him, but she knew how that would end, and tempting as it was, it wasn't really an option. “I'm gonna go home and slip into a light coma.” It seemed as though her answer surprised him, and she got the impression that he wasn't really used to getting turned down.

“Can I walk you home then? Can be scary out here at this time of night,” he tried.

“My apartment is right there-” she pointed a few houses down - “I'm sure I'll make it home before your cab gets here, so you guys can just keep an eye on me from here.”

Cruz and Otis kept their eyes to the ground, trying to not get roped into this awkward interaction. They mumbled a goodnight as Beth left them, trying to hide their smiles from the lieutenant.

“What just happened?” Kelly asked with a confused expression on his face.

“You just got shut down, bro,” Cruz explained.

“Twice,” Otis added, making the two of them laugh.

Kelly watched as Beth made her way to her building, and just as the cab pulled up, she unlocked her door. He raised his hand and gave her a small wave before he got into the backseat of the car. For a while, he had the image of her bright smile, and big eyes in his mind, but soon enough she was replaced by Shay, and grief overtook him once again.

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#Kelly Severide #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide fanfic #Chicago Fire #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire fanfic #kelly severide x reader #PF

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archaeologyactionmovies · 5 years ago

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How Far Is Too Far?

Lara Croft

Specifically in the 2001 film, Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, played by Angelina Jolie, is supposed to represent the female version of an Indiana Jones. She can handle herself in a fight and outsmart even the best when getting what she wants. Besides the obvious (outfits and that stupid shower scene), Lana is a pretty good archaeologist. Except for the fact that she isn’t one. Several times people refer to her specifically as a tomb raider, and she never once shows the same drive as Indiana to “put it in a museum!”. Her methods of treasure hunting are extremely destructive and she very rarely has government (her own or the places she’s going) permission. And time period of no excuse. The film seems to be set in the year that it was released, so there’s no 1930’s thinking to excuse that she blatantly breaks a lot of official and unofficial rules. Unlike Belzoni

(mentioned in the last post), her actions don’t have any benefit to the furthering of the collective information on Ancient Egypt, or Ancient Cambodia (where Lara has a part in kind of destroying a temple). Lara definitely can’t be called an archaeologist, but are her actions going even too far to be excused for the sake of “the ends justify the means”? If Lara had better intentions, such as the pursuit of her own knowledge or for other archaeologists, and not treasure hunting, which is no better than the “bad guys” of the film, then yes, you could forgive her. However, none of these are true, so it’s more likely that Lara Croft has strayed far from true archaeology.

Abd el Rasuls

The Abd el Rasul family has lived in Gourna, Egypt for thousands of years. What were they doing? Well, in 1881 it was discovered that the family had been “prospecting for mummies and golden jewelry” using the tombs under their houses like a “natural resource” (Muhly, 1). Tombs were desecrated and ancient artifacts sold off, possibly to never be seen again. However, a little police interference was not enough to stop this practice. A newspaper article written in 1975 by Frank Muhly Jr., describing the history of the family and Gourna, writes of a man he spoke to who is only waiting for the time to dig into the two tombs near his home. Unlike other looters, like Belzoni, the Rasul family and other looters have not been forgiven for their actions, for a similar reason as Lara: we consider them to have gone too far. Not only were they desecrating tombs (which seems to be a forgivable act under the right circumstances), they were selling off the ancient pieces they found as fast as they could. While this was one of the reasons why they were caught, you can’t just leave the reasoning there. People like the Rasuls were selling these items partly because they needed some way to survive. At time of the article’s publication, people in Gourna worked service jobs or “as unskilled laborers…where most of the digging and hauling is still done by hand [and] make about 80 cents a day” (Muhly, 2). Sometimes these people just need to survive in an area where they’re being kicked out of the homes they’ve lived in for thousands of years so the country can bring in more tourists. While the Rasuls, and people like them, have yet to be forgiven, it’s possible that they can be and probably should be, even if they didn’t enrichen the collective knowledge of Ancient Egypt.

Muhly, Frank. “The Quick and the Dead: Thieves and Tombs Along the Nile.” The New York Times, 28 Dec. 2975.

West, Simon, director. Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. Westminster College Website, Paramount Pictures, 2001, login.ezproxy.westminstercollege.edu/Shibboleth.sso/SAML2/POST.

#archaeology #ethics #lara croft #tomb raider #abd el rasul

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