#FIAF (me) fics

[fantasyinallforms]

✨I did some practice writing angry consort Bilbo, and it didn't turn out half bad. Slightly cracked and a tad occ for Thranduil but it felt good enough to share. 1.1k words. ✨ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bilbo lunged at Thranduil. 

"What is this!" He shouted, clutching a wrinkled piece of parchment in his hands. Things had been so calm. Years of quiet interrupted only by minor disagreements that were always resolved peacefully, but what he held in his hand at present was slander. 

Thorin caught him around the waist before he could connect, and Bilbo fought him like a caged cat, tears of frustration and hurt in his eyes. 

"I had your back! I offered you, counsel! I defended you against others who looked to sow discord between our people! Was this what you thought of me the whole time?" Bilbo had never been this angry. Not at Lily Bottoms for stealing his tart recipe, not at the page who ruined an entire nearly finished book with a dropped bottle of ink, not even at Lobelia for stealing his mother's silver spoons. 

He kicked and demanded that Thorin release him, putting weight behind his attempts, but his husband never let go, only tucking his nose into his hair with a whisper of apology. 

"Was it because our friendship started with dishonesty? Something I needlessly apologized for and made right time and time again? LOOK AT ME, DAMNIT!" Bilbo screamed, and finally, the elven king looked at him with a hint of shame in his eyes. 

"I had not thought through my actions or my words," Thranduil replied, unusually cowed by the sight of his rage yet still his eyes were callous. 

"How very evident," Bilbo sneered. "You have always seen conspiracy where none existed. All I did was try to warn you. I tried to counsel you when I knew others wouldn't. You surround yourself with those who revere you and will not hold a mirror to your actions. Anyone who doesn't see you in that light, you outcast." 

"I never asked for your opinions. I simply sought to share the stresses of leading my people without unsolicited advice." Thranduil shot back 

"You never had to ask! Has the definition of friendship strayed in the last 8000 years? I saw your mind swaying dangerously. It was my duty to say something. You are a leader. There is always more than just yourself at stake. If that burden of responsibility has grown too much, then hand the crown to Legolas and be done with it!" 

"You say that there is no conspiracy, yet there you hold the evidence that there are plenty I can not trust." Thranduil spat.

Bilbo balled up the parchment still in his hand and threw it at Thranduil's feet. He was no longer fighting to get his hands on the elf king's person, but Thorin still stood by his side like a ridged statue, his hand on his arm in comfort. He knew Thorin only held him back for his own sake. He wouldn't let him react out of anger, knowing he would regret his action later as much as he might want to let Bilbo blacken an elven eye. 

"I hold this in my hand because I earned the loyalty of the people closest to me. You should have known Bard was honorable, that his conscience would not have let your words go unchallenged. That you would take my kindness and twist it into animosity tells me more than I cared to know. More than that, in the months since I sent you my letter of warning, you acted as though nothing was amiss, sending correspondence and even asking for my opinion as you always have. By spreading these lies, you would seek to shatter the very peace you helped build!" 

"What am I getting out of any of this other than responsibility? I watch from The Greenwood as Dale and Erebor grow in power. None of that prosperity comes my way. You, and those like you seek to take from me all I have built and make me an outcast in lands I have inhabited far longer. I know it in my heart." 

Many times over the years, he worried about Thranduil. Time and stress burdened people in different ways; it mattered not the race they came from. Thorin, Thranduil, and even Lord Elrond had faced hard lives and the same water that softened potatoes hardened eggs. It didn't make the bitter sting of betrayal taste any better. Thranduil should know better, and Bilbo wondered if he was saying that because, to some extent, he always put elves on a pedestal, and to see one act as such was a hard truth that could not be veiled once revealed. Age and intelligence were no measure of wisdom. How do you change someone's mind when they refuse to see past their own version of the truth? 

"You betrayed my trust. You spoke ill of me behind my back and tried to get my friends to think less of me. You would attempt to alienate me from a community that you know sustains me to sate your own vanity. For what? The crime of caring about you, caring about your future! I can tolerate hate and vitriol said to my face, but I can't abide words said behind my back. Trust, once broken, is hard to get back." Bilbo held in the chest-wrenching sobs that lingered underneath his anger. It was a hurt that would sit in his chest for some time after Thranduil returned to his home.

"Then what of this community you claim exists between the elves, men, and dwarves? Even if I made amends, is this to be the end of our friendship?" Thranduil's face was unreadable, and Bilbo wanted to slap him. The bastard couldn't even apologize, not that he had expected one. 

I will not disparage you to others or vilify you further than whatever damage your pettiness has done by itself. I have only ever wanted to build a time of peace where we can trade and practice our crafts. I will not let you steal that vision from me. Dissent would only lead to war, and I have no interest in tearing the lives of my people apart. As far as our friendship, that is to be determined by you and what actions will take from here. Any words you could share beyond that mean little.” 

Everyone in the room seemed to understand that the end of his sentence marked the end of the conversation. Bilbo turned and sank into Thorin's waiting arms, letting his husband do the work of keeping him upright. 

"And Thranduil," Bilbo called, still not looking at him. "Take the soured gift you brought with you. I'm beginning to find your generosity inconsistent." ~~~

(At several points Tumblr auto-correct tried to change Thranduil's name to tranquil and taquito. I find this hilarious)

[fantasyinallforms]

I am very committed to doing the word prompts for @acorns-and-oakleaves Year of Bagginshield, located here. I adore word prompts with all of my ever-betting heart, and all 12 of the ones on this list are stunning.

So, I present a drabble for the January word prompt: "Tell me what you saw." {This has spicy undertones but is not explicit}

~~~

“Just tell me what you saw!” Fili shook his brother by the shoulders, growing more and more impatient. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know! Or I don't want to know? Please don’t make me think about it more Fee.” Kili groaned as he put his palms to his eyes. 

“Fine, I’ll take a look myself,” Fili grumbled. He made to walk off before Kili grabbed him by the arm and wouldn't let him move. 

“I’m warning you. I’m really warning you. Don’t.” There was panic in Kili’s tone, and he was getting fed up with it. 

“Just. Tell. Me.” Fili demanded 

I…well…I was going to ask Uncle something, and the door was ajar, so I thought it meant he wasn't busy, and… I saw Uncle and Bilbo and they were making out. I was going to tease them about it and maybe shut the door on them, but then… It stopped being just making out incredibly quickly….” Kili blabbered. Fili turned green. 

“Why didn't you shut the door quicker!” Fili whisper-yelled, now terrified someone would hear him. 

“I tried!” Kili rebutted, “But then I worried uncle would kill me if he heard the door close, and I was paralyzed and… Fee I’m going to be sick.” 

“We’ve bathed in the same river as uncle before. You’re being overdramatic.” Fili rolled his eyes.

“No. I. Am. Not. Bilbo was in his lap Fee. In. His. Lap.” Kili gave him a pointed look that begged him to read between the lines before shaking his head as if it would clear away the image. “Get me to the pub and buy me enough ale to forget my name, I beg you.”     

~~~

“Thorin, did you hear something?” Bilbo’s arms were wrapped around Thorin's neck, facing opposite from the door. His clothing was half on him, half pooled around his middle, as Thorin had control of both of their pleasure.  

“It’s no one, ghivashel. Just someone learning a valuable lesson in knocking.” Thorin replied before making Bilbo forget the statement entirely.

~~~~~~~

Also, that banner was super not made by me, and is from the event. ❤️

[fantasyinallforms]

For the January Fotfics roulette. I give you.

Royalty au

And

Awful first meeting

This was so fun to write! Thank you! and thank you to the Fotfics team for hosting the event!

This kinda oops into a plot bunny.... ENJOY!

~~~

“The plane left!” Bilbo stood at the terminal kiosk clutching his phone with the screen pointed toward the customer service lady so she didn’t think he was a loon. “The ticket clearly states that the flight was for noon. It’s just past eleven now!” Bilbo struggled to lower his voice. He didn’t mean to shout. It wasn't this poor lady's fault, but he was panicking. He collected himself and continued in a more reasonable tone. “Ma'am. I need to be in Erebor before four in the evening tomorrow. Please, is there anything you can do?” 

“I’m very sorry about all of this, Mr. Baggins. Please have a seat, and I’ll see what I can do.” The lady replied and motioned to the hard plastic chairs to her right. Bilbo took his seat with his head in his hands. An hour ticked by, and every minute that passed felt like forever. How long had he worked to get this posting? All for it to get washed away by a computing error? It was too terrible to think about. A long hour ticked by, made worse by his nervous habit of checking the clock every three minutes. He tried to work on some papers to keep his mind off the time, but he hadn't managed a single sentence despite trying.  

“Mr Baggins?” A woman in a clean and pressed flight uniform called his name. She was holding a ticket in her hand, and Bilbo’s spirits soared. 

“Yes, that’s me!” He gathered his papers together haphazardly and hurried to greet her.

“We managed to find you a ticket on another flight. It leaves soon, but I can escort you to the jet bridge now. Please follow me.” She motioned forward, and they started walking. “The only seat available was a first-class seat, and we’ve taken the liberty of upgrading you due to all the trouble.” relief and a brief excitement washed over him as they kept a brisk pace. She escorted him as promised. Once inside the plane, a stewardess checked his ticket and led him to the first-class eating area. Bilbo had never been in a proper first class. This was a fairly large plane with fancy accommodations. He was wide-eyed, trying to take it all in. Most of the seats were side by side near a window with a partition separating the seats from the aisle. His seat, however, was in a row that went down the middle. The seats had curved walls that extended around them, creating the illusion of a closed-off space, and the seats faced opposite each other so you could face the person you shared the area with. It was clearly meant for people traveling together, yet his ticket indicated that it was indeed his row. 

Bilbo struggled to keep ahold of his papers as he strained his neck to look at the numbers above the seats. He was tired, and it had already been a long day, so when he thought he had found his seat, he plopped himself down only to be met with the very unexpected noise and feel of warm of the air leaving someone's lungs on the back of his neck as hands came up automatically to meet his hips. Bilbo startled immediately and stood up at once. Behind him was a tall, broad, handsome man with a short beard and silver-streaked black hair. His face gave away nothing about his feelings on just getting sat on, and Bilbo was absolutely mortified. To make matters infinitely worse, the papers slipped from his hands and cascaded comically around his feet. 

“This is seat A1. I believe you were looking for seat A2.” The man said in a buttery, deep voice that did nothing to help his current state of embarrassment. He pointed at the seat next to and opposite him with a smirk.” 

“R-right. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Let me just gather these.” Bilbo said as he crouched down to gather all his papers and stood just in time for the stewardess to come back around. 

“Mr. Baggins, were you able to find your seat?” She asked. Bilbo only nodded. “Wonderful. Can I help you place your luggage in the overhead?” Before he actually thought about it, he said no and shuffled to the correct seat. Bilbo realized immediately that he should have let the stewardess help him. He had never had issues with the overhead bins in the economy or business class, but the ceilings were lifted in first class, and his height proved to be a definite problem. He stood on his tippy toes with his arms far over his head. He could tell his shirt was likely riding up from all the running around he'd been doing. He’s hardly had time to make himself more presentable. Just as he thought he would need to call the stewardess back over, a hand on his waist moved him to the side as his attractive seat companion effortlessly put the luggage away and returned to his seat without a word. Speechless, Bilbo sat down and buckled himself in. This was going to be an exceptionally long ten-hour flight.  

For the next hour or so, everything went as it should. They took off, got into the air, and were finally allowed to roam the cabin and unbuckle their seatbelts. The seat had a spacious pull-out desk he happily utilized to brush up on some Ereborian knowledge. He was absorbed by his work but couldn't help sneaking glances at his unintended travel companion. He had a tight beard and a sharp nose with a well-defined jawline. After falling into the man's lap, he could also confirm he was quite a sturdy man. Every time he looked up, the man was already looking at him, and Bilbo quickly looked away in embarrassment. It was hard to stop noticing once he started noticing the man was staring. Eventually, he had to address it for his own sanity.  

“It’s very rude to stare at people.” He looked up and held eye contact with the man almost defiantly. No one had the right to be that handsome and intimidating all at once. 

“I’m not staring. I’m curious.” The man replied. Bilbo let out a chuckle. 

“Then ask me a question. It’s off-putting being stared at by someone whose name I don’t even know.” Bilbo remarked. 

“Thorin.” the man replied. 

“Pardon?” 

“Thorin. My name. Now you know it.” Thorin supplied

“Oh, erm. I’m Bilbo, and if this is about earlier, then I’m sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t a preferred way to start your trip.” 

“I can think of worse ways to start a trip.” It was said casually, but Bilbo felt himself blush. Goddess help him. He was a 40-year-old man crushing on someone he had met two hours ago. If he noticed Bilbo’s distress, he didn't say anything and instead continued. “I’m curious why you have a large amount of research on Erebor in front of you.” 

“I’m a journalist,” Bilbo replied proudly. Thorin scoffed and leaned back in his chair to take a clipped sip of his drink. “I take it you’re not a fan of my profession?” Bilbo asked. 

“No, I can't say I’m a fan of an industry built on invading people's privacy and angling facts to meet their own agenda.” Thorin snorted. Bilbo immediately jumped on the statement.

“I’m not a tabloid journalist writing thoughtless pieces for the margins of fitness and gossip magazines. Going to Erebor is a dream come true for me. The country has opened its borders for the first time in sixty years. I partitioned the Ereborian government for months to allow me to interview the king, and a week ago, I was told I might have a shot! So that’s why I'm researching. I don't want to make a fool of myself. If I mess this up, I can kiss my career goodbye.” Bilbo chided. A cascade of emotions passed over Thorin's face and settled on something specifically neutral.

“So the future of your career depends on a king maybe talking to you?” Thorin replied. Even Bilbo laughed at that. 

“That must sound pretty silly, but in a sense, yes. Opportunities like this don't happen all the time, after all. What about you? Why are you visiting Erebor?”Bilbo asked. 

“Not visiting, returning. I was visiting my sister in London.” 

“So you’re a native Ereborian! What’s it like? I imagine it's beautiful, surrounded by all those mountains.” Bilbo tried not to sound dreamy as the image of snow capped mountains all around him popped into his head.  

“Is that not what all this scattered around you is for?” Thorin asked, pointing at the papers on his little desk. Bilbo cleared all the papers into his backpack and replaced them with a well-loved notebook and a pen. 

“Papers can’t tell you the heart of the country or why people call it home. What is there to do in Erebor? Where do you go for fun? What’s the food like?” Bilbo asked enthusiastically. The last question was just for him, but he was hungry to know all the same. Thorin leaned in, his eyes growing warm. 

“Is this all on the record or off of it?” Thorin asked, pointing with his nose to the now-open notebook in front of Bilbo. He shut the book and put his hands on top of it. 

“Sorry, force of habit. Off the record then.” Bilbo said with a smile. Thorin chatted with him about the tall pine trees and blankets of snow in the winter. He spoke with reverence about the craftsmanship of the Ereborian people and the rich communities that raised their children together and built a life in a place once thought inhospitable. Bilbo caught himself in a lazy smile as he lost track of the words being said, opting instead to enjoy the gravel of his voice. He was desperately trying to hold back the other less tame thoughts of how that voice would sound wrapped around his name in pleasure when he realized the conversation had come to a natural end. Thorin taking a sip of his drink allowed Bilbo to collect his thoughts and respond appropriately. “That’s the kind of thing I can't get from online articles and books written sixty years ago.” 

“Will this king you're interviewing care about such little things as that?” There was something about the way that Thorin asked that caught him off guard. Like he suddenly had a spotlight on him. As warm as it was, that gaze still held an unnatural intensity.  

“Maybe not, but I care about it,” Bilbo replied. “I think the king must care about things like that. They’re his people, after all. This king is the one who opened the borders back up, so I think that points to good judgment. I was actually upset. I petitioned the government to be here two months ago to see the coronation, but they weren’t allowing anyone into the country yet.”

“It was a simple ceremony. Not a lot of pomp or circumstance. It would've been boring to watch anyway.” Thorin commented with a smile

“You were there!” Bilbo shouted before ducking his head and lowering his voice. “I mean, were you invited? Or was it televised?” 

“All of Erebor was invited,” Thorin said simply. 

“Do you like your king? Or… actually, is that rude to ask? People always ask that about the queen, but I know a few staunch monarchists that take offense to the question.” Bilbo was buzzing with so much curiosity, and Thorin, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the conversation. Or, at the very least, he found Bilbo’s limitless questions amusing. Thorin took a long pause before answering.

“I like the king most days. I can't say I envy him, though. Running a country is… challenging.” Bilbo thought that was the end of it, but he continued. “Though all of this is a moot point.” 

“Is it?” Bilbo replied. 

“It is. The only way to truly get to know a new place is to experience it, not just read or be told about it. I should take you to my favorite tea shop. You did ask about the food.” Thorin offered casually. Bilbo was unsure he heard the man right. Had he just been invited out for tea with a stupidly handsome stranger he met on a plane? A stranger whose first interaction with him was to be sat on.

“I-I would love that, but we could be headed in completely separate directions once we land.” Bilbo spluttered. 

“Maybe, but it’s a small country.” Thorin's smile was blinding now. Bilbo chewed on his lip to hide the flush on his cheeks. 

“You really don't have to. I’m sure you’re a very busy person.” Bilbo stammered. 

“But I want to. And if I don’t take you, you might try and go alone. You could end up in a tourist district and get the wrong idea about my country to put in one of those articles of yours.” Thorin teased.

Bilbo snorted. “Erebor doesn't have a tourist district.” 

“I haven't been home in a month. One could have popped up in my absence.” They both broke out into laughter. The strictness on Thorin’s sharp face faded into something soft and nearly irresistible. The rest of the plane ride went exceptionally smoothly. They chatted some more and ate the first-class meals they were provided in between doing separate tasks like reading or watching a movie. The conversation was light and interesting, and Bilbo found that he barely felt the time pass. At some point, he nodded off to sleep with a book in his hand but woke up with it bookmarked and a thin blanket covering him. Bilbo stretched as he woke and tried to tame the sleep-mussed curls on his head. When he finally got his shoulder to pop and his hair to lay flat, he looked out of the window, and his heart sank. The tall peak of Erebor's biggest mountain was on the horizon. A breathtaking sight, and yet…

“The Lonely Mountain is what that peak is called. The royal palace is built right into the side of it.” Thorin’s deep voice cut into his disappointed thoughts. He startled with an embarrassing squeak and clapped his hand over his mouth with a groan. Thorin only laughed. “Good morning. Or perhaps afternoon. It’s eight in the evening now.” No sooner had Thorin finished speaking when the seatbelt light licked on in the cabin, and the kind voice of the stewardess asked them to return to their seats for the plane's descent.

The ten hours were up. Bilbo felt his stomach do strange flips as he snuck glances at the seemingly unbothered Thorin. It was all utterly ridiculous. He had met this man less than 12 hours ago. It was silly to pine over someone he didn’t even know. The uncomfortable look on his face must have shown because he felt something warm blanket the hand that was gripping the armrest of his chair. He was surprised to see it was Thorin who was giving him a slightly concerned look.

“Is it the turbulence or the altitude dropping? The turbulence is always stronger on the descent, especially in Erebor. I think it’s something about the wind in relation to the mountain. It should pass quickly.” Thorin remarked with a smile. It did, and soon, the wheels were touching down. This would have been the perfect time for a delay, but of course, everything ran as smooth as butter, and soon, it was time to exit. Bilbo unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the backpack on the side of his chair. When he turned around, he ran right into a solid wall of chest and braced himself with his hands in surprise. Thorin looked down at him, his eyes a sea of blue, and his arms still raised above his head to reach into the overhead. Bilbo stared up at his face, only vaguely aware that his body was positioned a hair's breadth away, hands still splayed on his chest. Then he became aware. Very aware. Bilbo took a big step backward like he had been burned apologies on the tip of his tongue only to lose his footing, trip over the chair behind him, and land facing the wrong way with his legs dangling over the armrest. He went beet-red and closed his eyes so he couldn't see Thorin's face. He opened them again to see Thorin grinning at him with his head cocked to the right and his arms crossed. 

“You’re very prone to accidents, aren’t you?” he asked. 

“Not usually,” Bilbo replied. It was true other than today, he was usually very well coordinated. Thorin reached out his hand and pulled Bilbo easily to his feet before handing him his luggage. 

“That’s not a very big bag for a long trip. I suppose I never asked how long you were staying?” Thorin asked tentatively as they walked toward the exit. 

“Foreign journalists still have their passports restricted to visits less than five days,” Bilbo said apologetically. Thorin’s brow furrowed at that. He muttered a name under his breath before dropping the topic altogether. The airport was very small, with no restaurants or coffee shops like at London Heathrow. His stomach growled audibly, and the sound of it seemed to make Thorin tense, although he couldn't imagine why. “Sorry about that. Airplane food doesn't fill you up all that much. Are you in a rush to be somewhere? I don’t know any places to eat around here, but if you have a recommendation, we can grab something. I mean, just if you want, I’m not presuming anything.” he wasn't good at this. He was a well-spoken person with a quip for every occasion, but his brain seemed to have malfunctioned the moment he stepped onto that plane. What was worse was the apologetic, almost pitying look on Thorin's face. 

“I can’t right now but-” 

“No, it’s fine!” Bilbo quickly interjected. “I get it, you're very busy. It’s a small country like you said. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” Bilbo plastered a smile on his face and made to walk away. Thorin caught him by the waist and tilted his chin until their eyes met, then slowly but deliberately kissed him. It was as slow and tender as it was unexpected. A good unexpected, and Bilbo closed his eyes and let it wash over him. Thorin’s lips were warm and tasted like the smoke of a campfire. Thorin broke the kiss and fixed one of his curls that had fallen in front of his face. 

“You should go to Rustabell’s on Gilded Square. It’s near the historic downtown area. You’ll like it.” He gave Bilbo’s form a once over before meeting his eyes one last time and briskly walking away. Bilbo stepped after him, dazed and thoroughly confused about what had just happened. 

“Wait, I never got your num…ber.” The words died on his tongue as he rounded the corner. The sudden flash of a hundred cameras going off all at once made him take several steps back. He hurried forward to get away from it and blink the dots from his eyes. Looking back, he was shocked to see Thorin standing in front of the cameras, his face like stone as he faced the flashing lights. Bilbo focused on what was being said by one of the journalists, their press badge laminated and practically glowing.

“Your majesty! Your majesty! King Thorin!” Bilbo paused. King Thorin? His eyes went wide, and he pressed his fingers to his lips. 

“Oh shit.” 

~~~~

Roulette wheel is here.

[fantasyinallforms]

Hello! I figured it was about time I put together a masterlist as I have a growing number of WIP's and stories! Most of what I write is Bagginshield, but you will find a few Good Omens or Our Flag Means Death fics peppered in.

~~~

✨Current ongoing fics/ Multi-chapter completed stories.✨

Sparks & Gardens 7/? chapters {M} Bagginshield

The Burden Of Choice-12/12 Chapters {E}-Bagginshield 56K

The Heart Remembers What The Mind Forgets- 4/4 chapters {E}- Bagginshield 34k

You Should Be Safe With Me 8/8 Chapters {E} Bagginshield 35k

A Most Unlikely Dance Partner  7/7 Chapters {T} Bagginshield 25k

✨Series ✨

Happy Accidents 3 parts {G-E} Bagginshield

Dis has dragged Thorin to a plant and sip outing with her and the boys for their birthday. Thorin isn't any good with plants but reluctantly goes anyway and finds himself pleasantly enchanted by the shop's owner. His black thumb and wandering mind cause him to make a fool of himself, and it might just be the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Tales on the Road to Erebor {T} Bagginshield

These are 1k-3k drabbles that take place on the road to Erebor. They are episodic stories that take place in the same universe. Chapter Chapter 1-Questionable Decisions Chapter 2-Wild Thoughts In The Dead Of Night Chapter 3- Better on your lips

✨One-Shots✨

Bagginshield One-Shot series {G-E}

A series of Bagginshield one-shots that can be enjoyed completely separately from each other. The series is just a way to organize my growing collection of stories so they are easier to find.

Remembrance {T} Bagginshield (Sad Fic)

Bilbo visits Erebor after 30 long years. While there, he visits Thorin's tomb and speaks to his grave.

🌶️ PWP One-Shot series {E}🌶️

A series of porn without plot one shots which can all be enjoyed entirely independently of each other.

Jealous Burning Desire {E} Aziracrow

✨Compilations✨

2023 SFW drabbles 

2023 Kinktober Drabbles

💫Search the tag FIAF(me) fics here on my Tumblr to find some Tumblr-exclusive drabbles as well!💫

[fantasyinallforms]

Hello! Can I request "warm beverages" with Bagginshield for fotfictember?? Pretty please?

Of course, you can! In typical Fantasy fashion, I did accidentally make a 1600-word one-shot instead of a drabble but oh well. I hope you enjoy!

To Warm A Heart-{T} Bagginshield- 1600 words

“Thorin, why are you staring at this apple tree?” Bilbo asked cautiously. 

“Because you’ve been shivering for two days,” Thorin replied curtly. 

“I’m now more confused than when I initially asked the question.” Bilbo snorted. “Are you planning on picking them? It’s a good season for it. In another month, all the fruit will have fallen down.” Bilbo reached for an apple on one of the lowest branches but couldnt quite grab it, even with his adorable little jumps. Thorin grabbed the branch and bent it low so Bilbo could take what he liked. 

“I take it you like apples?” 

“I love apples! This time of the year makes me miss the fall celebrations around the party tree. Bell Gamgee’s apple tarts are the year's highlight for anyone lucky enough to grab one before they’re gone.” Bilbo sighed and cleaned the dirt off the apple before taking a big bite. Thorin had to look anywhere else but his face as the juice dripped down his chin, begging to be cleared away. “They’re delicious! Thorin, you’ve got to try!” When he turned around, Bilbo handed him the apple, encouraging him to take a bite. He stifled a groan and took the apple, trying not to think too carefully about the fact that Bilbo’s lips had been wrapped around it seconds ago. It was sweet and perfectly ripe, as he had been told. When he confirmed this, Bilbo beamed and grabbed as many apples as he could carry to bring to their companions. 

Thorin went back to staring at the tree. The winds had become harsher as their elevation gradually increased. For the past two nights, he had witnessed Bilbo shivering even after he had offered his warmer coat. He needed something to warm him up from the inside. There was a recipe that the dwarves had adopted after their exile when food was scarce, and warmth was hard to come by. All provisions had to be used in their entirety, and if there was a secondary use, then that was even better. They had learned that if they boiled apple cores, it released the last of the juice, and if mixed with alcohol, it was hydrating and warming.  

Immediately upon spotting the apple tree, he halted their march and made camp. He could make Bilbo something to keep him warm, and he wouldn't have to use apple scraps to do it. He beckoned Fili and Kili over with the instruction to get every ripe apple they could down before moving on to speak with Bombur. He found the dwarf taking stock of his supplies, which now included a new apple. 

“Bombur a moment of your time, please,” Thorin called. The large dwarf looked up cheerfully. 

“Of course, what can I do for you, Thorin.” 

“I need a pot and to know what spices you have.” He gruffed. 

Bomber's eyebrows shot into his forehead. “Are you planning on cooking tonight?

“Cooking no. But I am making something. Your spices?” Thorin waited for Bombur to overcome the initial shock before reading into his bag to pull out a large tin filled with small compartments. I have the basics: salt and pepper. Some dried garlic and parsley. I have a few orange and lemon peels left, and Oh, I have a few cinnamon sticks, clove, and at least one nutmeg in here, it looks like.” Bombur looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to ask to use one or many. 

“I need the nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon. The orange peel, too, if you can spare it.” Bombur handed them over without question, knowing full well what the king was up to. The boys returned with their tunics pulled up to make makeshift baskets, bantering about who could carry more. They had brought more than he needed, which was good. They could dry what they didn’t use that night and use it later. Thorin surveyed the area and smiled when he saw Bilbo leaning against a tree wrapped in Thorin’s coat, speaking to Ori. There was a turning point on this journey when the concerns of that hobbit had become his. He had rebelled against it at first because all those who had traveled with him were his family now, but not like Bilbo. Bilbo was his beating heart living on the outside of his body. Handsome and clever, and stubborn and painfully vulnerable. More than all the others in this camp spare his nephews, Bilbo was his priority.

 The night drew in, and as expected, the air grew cold. Bilbo had fallen asleep against the tree, and Thorin could hear his teeth chattering from where he sat. He gave his pot a sip and then turned to his friend.

“Dwalin, what’s in your flask?” Thorin barked. 

“Something I’m not sharing,” Dwalin replied. He pulled out the flask to take a sip, and Thorin snatched it from his hands. He gave it a sniff. 

“Whiskey. That will work.” He dumped the flask's contents into the pot and stirred it. 

“You mind telling me why you just dumped the last of my fucking whiskey into that experiment you’ve been working on,” Dwalin growled.

“It’s cider like they used to make at the camps after Erebor fell. It’s too cold, and we have few supplies to keep warm after the goblins.” Thorin stood up. With the alcohol added, the drink was done. 

“You know there are easier ways to warm someone up.” Dwalin cast his eyes at Bilbo. “You’re coats big enough for both of ya if you’re close enough.” 

“I would not be welcome,” he had barely finished the sentence before Dwalin snorted.

“I forgot you’re stupid. Look. The nights are only going to get colder as we reach Erebor. Too cold for anyone to sleep alone. So is it going to be you sleeping next to that little thing, or is he going to have to curl up with Bofur instead?” He was being bated, and he knew it, but Thorin’s eyes still found the miner to check his proximity. He growled at himself as much as Dwalin for taking the bait. 

“If he wanted to share a bedroll with me, he would ask. I will not impose myself on him and call it convenience.” Thorin looked around for two mugs and ladled the cider into them until they were full. He carried them over to the Hobbit and sat them down on a flat rock. He regretted having to wake him. Despite the chattering teeth, he looked peaceful. His hair had fallen in front of his face, and his nose twitched even in his sleep. He was slumped in an odd position he would definitely be unhappy with come morning. With a hand on the side of Bilbo’s head, he guided him into a sitting position. “Master Baggins.” He said his name more firmly than he meant to, and his eyes flew open, slightly startled. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Did you want your coat back before you turned in?” Bilbo stretched, and Thorin turned away so as not to ogle him. If he had it his way, he would never see that coat again unless it was wrapped around the hobbit's shoulders. 

“I came to bring you something for the cold.” Thorin placed the cup in Bilbo’s hands and watched with satisfaction as he curled his hands around its warmth.  

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s not too cold out.” Bilbo argued,

“Bilbo, the entire camp can hear your teeth chattering.” Blush spread across Bilbo’s cheeks as he sipped the cider. The moment it touched his lips, his eyes went wide over the rim of the cup. He drained half his mug before coming up for air. 

“This is amazing! Did you make this?” Bilbo took another big gulp and looked contented. 

“I did. I thought you could use something to help you sleep better.” He took a sip from his own cup and was pleased with the result on such short notice. When he looked up, Bilbo was staring at him, blushing all the way to the top of his pointed ears and blinking rapidly. “Did I add too much alcohol? I wanted there to be enough to keep warm. It was Dwalin’s, and knowing what he drinks, I might have overdone it.” Thorin took another sip to gauge its strength. If anything, it was a bit weak. Bilbo didn't seem to want to elaborate, so they sat in silence for a little while, just enjoying the sounds of the woods around them, now free of chattering. When Thorin saw Bilbo’s mug get empty, he leaned into reach for it, intending to get him a refill. To his great surprise, Bilbo took that moment to lean forward as well, intentionally surging up to meet his lips. Thorin’s senses went white with bliss, and all his mind knew for the next moment was the taste of Bilbo's breath. Warm, soft lips and that slightly upturned nose pressing into his cheek. He was dumped back into reality as Bilbo drew away in panic, covering his face.

“I-I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me. That was wrong. I thought maybe…. No.. no excuse, please forgive me.” he made to get up, and Thorin quickly leaned forward, trapping the hobbit against the tree. 

“Wait, please don't leave.” He hated that he saw a hint of fear in Bilbo’s eyes, but he couldn't let him up. Not until he knew what that was. 

“I’m really sorry, Thorin. I misunderstood.” Bilbo babbled. 

“Did you kiss me intentionally?” Thorin asked. Bilbo nodded sheepishly. That was all he needed. He gathered Bilbo into his arms and returned his kiss with all the passion he could muster. The richness of the cider had never tasted better or warmed him so deeply than on Bilbo’s tongue.   

And if he heard Dwalin shout, “It’s about fucking time.” He ignored it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have decided that at the end of the year, all the drabbles I've done for events will be going into a 2023 collection on AO3. Also, I don't love the title of this fic and might change it later.

[fantasyinallforms]

Tis I! The mysterious Bagginshield Cryptid! Could I please request 7. for the bagginshield kissy prompt, please?

Well, hello, Cryptid! I hope you like this!

~~~~~~

“Let me into that bloody room Dwalin!” 

“He’s sleeping.” 

“Not when I’m done with him, he won't be!” 

Thorin’s eyes struggled to open as he heard the sound of his best friend and Belo-. He stops himself. Does he have any right to say that anymore? Surely Bilbo is banging down the proverbial door of his tent to scream at him and tell him he's going home, never to return. That is his right. Forgiveness given on death's door was hardly fair play, after all. 

He took in his injuries. He had not been nearly as hurt as he thought. Elves or perhaps the wizards doing, he wasn't sure. He touched the bandages at his side and winced. Alright, perhaps he was a little more injured than he appeared. He tried to sit up, which caused him to cry out in pain and fall back onto the cot gracelessly. The bickering outside ceased, and the tent flap was thrown open, letting in a rush of cold air. Bilbo seemed to be illuminated in the harsh lite of the day. The light streamed through his hair and silhouetted him against the backdrop. His eyes were on fire with righteous fury but also distress. Or was it worry? 

Bilbo stepped fully into the tent and immediately started into him. Thorin could only stare in amazement at his burglar, in awe of his anger. It was hard to focus on his words because he was breathtaking even in the storm of his ire. Thorin had realized far too late on that battlefield that Bilbo Baggins from the quiet place called The Shire was everything he had ever wanted and far more than he could hope to deserve. 

The tone of Bilbo’s words started to change. Less anger and more sorrow. Thorin put out his hand to cup that beardless chin, and in the middle of a rant about his recklessness, he closed the space between them with a kiss. He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't nimble fingers in his hair or Bilbo’s responding tongue begging to be let in. When they broke, he looked at Bilbo again. His lovely hobbit with fresh tears making track marks in the mud on his face. He was no longer yelling. His expression lingered somewhere between surprise and joy. Bilbo’s hands were warm as they splayed themselves across his cheeks. 

“Don’t you EVER try to leave me again Thorin Oakenshield. Don't you dare.” 

_______

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

[fantasyinallforms]

20 + Bagginshield for the kissy prompt? 💕

Thank you for the Prompt! @camibispace! I hope you enjoy this kissing scars drabble!

~~~~~

Scars to dwarves are like trophies. Great symbols of triumph and fortitude, and any dwarf that made it past 180 was likely to have their share of them. Thorin had more than most. His scars were memories of his trials, and not all of them were in battle. Many he had gained from working in the villages of men for over 40 years. Men who treated him like a greedy beggar. Who did everything they could to steal and cheat him until the only way to save his money was to sleep in the streets. He had wrapped so many stab wounds and cuts on his own body that he could put Oin’s work to shame. So unlike his kin, he did not appreciate or even like his scars. They were a sign of how low he had been forced to sink. 

Those days of working like a dog for scraps were over. Never again would he need to lower himself to that kind of work. He lay on his opulent bed, king under the mountain, with his lovely half-naked hobbit consort curled lazily over his chest. Bilbo was tracing his tattoos as he normally did as they enjoyed the afterglow of an evening well spent. This time, however, his fingers seemed to wander away from the dark inked marks on his body and to the darker shadows of former wounds. 

“How did you get these here?” Bilbo smoothed his fingers over the many raised lines on his arm.

“Men.” The answer seemed apt enough for him, but Bilbo frowned. 

“And what about these?” His hands ran over the three slashes on his chest, marked clearly by the lack of hair on his otherwise furry chest. 

“Men.” was his answer again. Bilbo’s frown deepened, and Thorin didn't like the look of it. He rolled them over until Bilbo was under him, his curious hands pinned above his head. Bilbo would not be swayed from his line of questioning. Ever his curious hobbit.

“Y-you never really talk about, ahhh, your scars. I know others -” Another moan escaped him as Thorin doubled down on the soft skin of Bilbo’s neck. “Thorin, please let me speak.” Bilbo struggled under him, and he let go immediately. He sat up looking very flushed, with several new dark spots forming where his lips had just been. “Thank you. I mean to say that I notice others take great pride in showing off their scars. You couldn't get Kili to put a shirt on for months after he healed. You, however, are never without one. Not even when you’re burning up in the forge. Not unless we’re here. As special as I feel that I’m the only one who gets to see that part of you, I have to wonder why?” There was sincerity in Bilbo’s voice, and it was endearing. He reached up to run his hands through those tawny curls and sighed. 

“Because I’m ashamed of them. Others earned their scars in glorious deeds, perhaps even stupid ones, but not me. I couldn't even properly fight back against most of my assailants. Not if I wanted to make any money. These are symbols of how low I had to fall in the name of my people. They’re ugly reminders.” Thorin felt the sudden need to cover himself and grabbed for the blanket, but Bilbo would have none of it. There was a look of fierceness in his eyes. Then, to his shock, Bilbo leaned him back and started kissing along the scars on his chest. He took his time. Each kiss was feather light but sure as stone. When he was done with one scar, he moved on to the next, leaving Thorin nearly gasping for air out of love and lust but also an acceptance he didn't think he deserved until this moment. When he caught his breath again, he cradled Bilbo’s head in his hands. 

“It’s my turn to show appreciation.” He kissed the scar that ran from Bilbo’s cheek all the way under his jaw. The physical manifestation of what Bilbo had been willing to give up when he threw himself into Azog only to be swatted away. He kissed every inch of that beautiful mark in the same manner that Bilbo had done his. 

“What a pair we make.” Bilbo breathed.     

______  

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

[fantasyinallforms]

Hullo! Can I request 1. as a bilbo/thorin kissy prompt, please! 💛

Thank you for the ask @conkers-theficwriter! One morning kisses coming right up! Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~

Very unlike himself, Bilbo woke quite suddenly, not from a nightmare or unhappy memory but from a sudden sharpness to know where he was. He panicked and froze. The mountain before sunrise was very dark. Almost pitch-black in some places. The sun mirrors had survived the dragon, but they had not had the resources or time to repair the moon mirrors or light torches along the halls. The only thing shedding light on the space was the embers of a nearly dead fire, and that did little for his eyes.

He was not in the bed he was used to. These sheets were too new, too soft. They were almost silken to the touch, not the wool of his small cot. Small cot. This bed was not that. It was twice, maybe three times, the size of the one in his small room. Then it all came back to him. He’s had a nightmare. The same one he always had where he wasn't in time. Where he had not been there to throw himself in front of the orc blade, granting Thorin the protection of the coat he had so generously given. He needed the same thing every time he woke from that nightmare. To feel Thorin under his grasp, to place his hands against the beating pulse of his heart. Thoin had heard his wailing and came for him in the night. His dwarven eyes had no issues navigating the darkened halls. He took Bilbo back to his bed, and that is where he now lay in the early morning of the next day. Tentative hands reached out into the blackness until they connected with something hard, solid, and warm. 

“Bilbo?” Thorin apparently was not asleep. 

“I-I didn't know where I was when I woke up, and I c-cant see anything.” Bilbo stammered. A large warm hand wrapped around his waist and drew him into the center of the bed until his hands rested on Thorin's chest. 

“You had a nightmare, so I brought you somewhere safe where you could rest.” Thorin supplied as if to answer Bilbo’s question of where he was. 

“I-I can't see anything. Not even you, and you’re right in front of me.” His hands went searching until they felt the beard on the dwarf king's face. Thorin took an inhale of breath, and He drew back immediately, not wanting to overstep. In response, Thorin put his hand through Bilbo's curls. 

“I can see you.” He said almost teasingly. 

“And what a sight I must make all mussed as I am. Close your eyes, foolish dwarf, and then we can both be on equal ground.” The rumble from Thorin's chest put him at ease, and he waited for him to retract his hand, but he did not. 

“Can you truly see none of me?” Throin mused, his hand now wandering down his arm. The pleasant touch was making tingles shoot up and down his spine. He reached back into the blackness where Thorin’s beard had been and found it again. He traced his jaw up to his cheekbones and then down that long sharp nose. If Thorin minded, he did not say. Finally, his fingers brushed over his lips just as Thorin's hands found his waist again. “Join me here every morning. Here in bed like this.” Bilbo looked up sharply into nothing wishing he could see the blue eyes staring at him.

“Why would you want that?” Bilbo breathed. 

“Because I’ve found that my mornings can only be counted as good so long as I can hear your voice and feel you under my hands. Because I’m a selfish king who does not want to have to share you in the early hours of any day.” Words escaped him. He, who usually had a quip for every occasion, was silent. He felt the grip on his waist slacken. 

“I want that too.” Bilbo wiggled to move closer to his dear dwarf, but there was no need. The heavy hand on his waist pulled him forward and right into Thorin's arms and lips. Thorin's entire hand gripped the back of his head and kissed him with so much passion he was liable to pass out from the sheer joy of it. They broke for air, and Thorin tucked Bilbo's head into his chest and whispered low and happy. 

“Good Morning, my Love.”

_______

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

[fantasyinallforms]

Would you happen to have fic recs (or maybe existing collections on ao3) for Bilbo and Thorin parenting Frodo ? 🩷 I don't know if it's a trope you like or not

OK, let me start by saying I am SO sorry for taking like a week to respond. I have 4 projects/ events going at the same time right now.

This is not a trope I usually read, but every once in a while, I get a kick for it. Since I got this ask, I've added a few new ones to my TBR. I have a few recommendations, and I encourage others to add more recommendations to the comments (Self plugs are loved and welcome) ~~~~~~

The Shire’s Gems  by awkwarng3 {G}

Right As Snow  and Concerning Dwobbits by @lordoftherazzles both {G}

Notices in the Paper by YamBits {T}

The Longest Time by dddeaky {E}

in our bedroom, after the war by UnfortunatelyObsessed {T}

strange things happen for no reason by @pomgore {G}

~~~

I didn't know how you felt about Mprg, so I tried to leave out ones with that element. If that is something you are interested in, I can't recommend it enough.

One of a King by @domesticgoddesswriter {E} it has mild mpreg/ past Mpreg elements, and Bilbo's child is an OC named Dahlia (She is so so cute). Do mind the tags before reading. It's not raising Frodo, but it is co-parenting in a way (It's hard to explain it's brilliance)

[fantasyinallforms]

hi, i hope you have a great day! sorry to come with such a sudden ask but my friend just watched the hobbit trilogy not long ago and she really wants to read some bagginshield and i, sadly, have no recommendations of my own for her. can you, maybe, recommend some of your favorite fics? something to heal the soul in the aftermath of the hobbit finale? i'll be really grateful!

Well, hello, friendly Anon! I'm happy to hear your friend is getting into some bagginshield! I have a few personal favorites I enjoy that I would love to share! Some of these require an AO3 account to read, so fair warning. Also, I don't know your age, so always mind tags on all fics.

~For one shots

Songs in the Dark {T} by leoandlancer

Incite and provoke {M} by vintagelilacs

If I could give my breath away (I would) {NR}by StupidFatPenguin

Problem Solved {T} by HiddenKitty

~For long-format works in progress, I recommend

Backs To The Wall {M} by Conkers

One of a King by {E} DomesticGoddess (Everything this writer creates I'm madly in love with.)

Bookbinder//Songwriter {E} by LordOfTheRazzles (My favorite modern AU of all time)

~For long-format stories, there are always the classics you'll hear about 100 times. Some other really good ones are

A Kingly Gift {E} by Middle_Earth_Mama

Roses of Iron {M} by Porphyrios

Dragonhearted {E} by LordOfTheRazzles

[fantasyinallforms]

This is a new piece I did for the Bagginshieldweek23 event here on Tumblr! I chose the June 9th prompt, flower language, and combined it with the errant blacksmith prompt!

I've posted it to A03, link in the title!

Bagginshield {T}

Title: Reputation be Damned Summary: The Shire is abuzz with news of a new errant blacksmith, and Bilbo is seemingly the last to find out. When he finally does come toe to toe with the broody dwarf, he finds him to be rude, frustrating, and stupidly hot.

[fantasyinallforms]

bagginshield + 16 for the kissy prompts!!

Alright, my friend, have some lazy kisses. I hope you like it! ❤️❤️

___

Thorin dragged himself in from the porch. He had spent most of the day marking things off his honey-do list from Bilbo. Things that his fastidious hobbit was not able to take care of himself. So far, he had changed out the hinges on the back door, fixed Bilbo’s wheelbarrow, and repaired the legs on the back garden table. He wiped the sweat off his face and felt his shirt clinging to him. It was a hot and humid day, which meant he would find his lovely little hobbit exactly where he had left him, curled into the corner of the couch when he went inside. 

They had lived at Bag End for over ten years now, and that was after nearly 30 years of ruling Erebor side by side. But he did not want to watch his beloved age in the darkness of a mountain, so he passed his crown to Fili and retired. This was a quiet lazy life but a worthwhile one.

Bilbo was indeed on the couch. His book had fallen out of his hand, and his glasses slid down his nose. Bilbo had become a deep sleeper. He supposed years of living with dwarves did that to a person. He was able to move him into a more comfortable position, remove his glasses, and set them on the tea table without him waking. He ran his hand through his husband's graying curls. No less beautiful than the gold they had once been. He looked back at the list Bilbo had made for him. There was still a lot on it, but it could wait. He sat down on the couch and pulled Bilbo into his lap marveling at how cute he looked curled up into him. He kissed him soundly and sweetly. It was a sort of consistent lazy affection. His Bilbo sturred just long enough to get comfortable on his lap before falling asleep once again. 

Chores can wait for some other day. 

____

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

[fantasyinallforms]

17 + Bagginshield 👀

Thank you for the ask!! Alright, 17- to Distract

~~~~~~~~

Bilbo was sitting in his armchair. One hand was clutching the armrest. The other was squeezing Thorin's fingers. When he agreed to get a tattoo, he had VASTLY underestimated how much it would hurt. It ached, not at first but with every new tap to his previously unblemished skin. He had let Thorin and Dwalin talk him into getting a tattoo to commemorate the journey. All of the company had gotten something at this point except himself. 

"Bilbo, will you sit still for Mahal's sake! We're almost done. And don't clench your fist; it tenses your shoulder." 

"Dwalin, I've been sitting still for hours!" Bilbo complained. He relaxed his firsts as best he could.

He had agonized over what to get for weeks. It was his first tattoo, after all, and it would be very permanent, so it needed to be something he liked. He thought about a small red dragon, like Dwalin had gotten but shivered at the thought. Dwalin had not faced down said dragon. He needed no permanent reminder of that.

He thought maybe a barrel like Dori and Nori had gotten. He thought better of that too. He had no barrel of his own on that river and almost drowned, to boot. Not memories he wanted affixed to him. 

He gave serious consideration to a likeness of the key that started the journey as Thorin himself had chosen but decided against that as well. It suited his handsome, wonderful dwarf very well, but it did not mean the same thing to himself as it did Thorin. He finally settled on the symbols that truly started his little adventure. Three runic marks on his door. Burglar. Danger. Reward. 

He hears Thorin try and stifle a snicker and pass it off as a cough. He was looking at him amusedly. 

"Wats so amusing then?" Bilbo huffed 

"You've been sitting here for barely 35 minutes.” He pointed out. Drat! Had so little time passed! The pain was messing with him. He had never had a very high pain tolerance, as this experience was reminding him.  

“Done!” Dwalin shouted. Bilbo looked over to admire his work, but Thorin’s hand laid heavy on his chest. 

“He has to disinfect it first, Amral. So you don’t get an infection.” He watched Dwalin take a damp rag out of a shallow sweet smelling bowl. 

“This might… sting a bit, laddie.” Bilbo tensed and braced, but all of that was swept away by the feeling of Thorin’s lips on his. He barely noticed the sting of the cloth on his skin. All he cared about was that wonderful dwarven mouth on his. He was released a moment later, blinking in the afterglow of being so thoroughly snogged. 

“I thought it might be a pleasant distraction.” Thorin’s eyes were full of affection, and it was always a joy to see. 

“You should distract me like that again… right now.” Bilbo cooed. 

“At least let me get out of the room first,” Dwain grumbled.   

----  

Fun kissing prompt game to be found here!

[fantasyinallforms]

I did change some of the prompts to better fit the M/M ships I write for. Again thank you to @tolkienpinupcalendar for hosting this event!

~~~~

Day 3-Bagginsshield- Thigh Riding Fucking

Thorin had Bilbo on his bedroll, flushed and pink, spread out beneath his furs. They had set up camp in a place that afforded them a hint of privacy and were taking full advantage of it. It amazed him how soft his little lover was. Thorin bent back down over Bilbo, kissing him soundly and running his hands along the side of his thick thighs, encouraging him to lock in around him. 

Sweet-pitched moans and whimpers were coming from Bilbo's mouth as they took their time with each other. 

"Mahal’s hammer Bilbo, I wish I could take you here and now." Thorin groaned. Bilbo's body promised such warmth and comfort. He wanted to lose himself in the tight ample ass of his beloved. 

"Then take me, please." Bilbo whined. 

"We have nothing to slick you with, and I won't risk hurting you." He was far too big compared to Bilbo to ever consider doing such without time to prepare and a good proper lubricant. He didn't want to be the cause of pain for his One, and he would not take his pleasure without ensuring Bilbo's. 

"There is something else we can try. I know you're quite fond of my thighs with how you like to knead at them and feel them wrapped around you. When pressed together, they're quite soft and tight. Maybe not as tight as being in me, but a compromise?" Bilbo sat up, legs resting in a double-u position, and Thorin's eyes were drawn to the space where his thighs met and brushed together with new apparition and hunger. 

"Clever little hobbit." Thorin purred as he gently pushed Bilbo back onto the furs and kissed down his chest. When he got to Bilbo's navel, he spread his legs apart and took his time kissing, biting, and sucking on his inner thigh until little marks formed in the usually unblemished skin. The hand that wasn't keeping Bilbo in place was idly stoking Bilbo’s cock. His love was a wreck above him, helpless and trembling, words completely lost. Thorin’s cock lay hard and leaking between his legs, and it was about time he saw to that. 

He turned Bilbo onto his side and compressed his legs. With a little spit on his hands to help ease the way, he finally sunk his cock into the flesh of Bilbo’s thighs. This was one of the best suggestions Bilbo has ever come up with, and his hobbit was brilliant, so that was saying something. His cock was long enough that with every thrust, he brushed over Bilbo’s stones causing him to shudder, which only made the soft tight skin vibrate pleasantly. The spit from his hand and now his precum were plenty to make the experience smooth, and Bilbo was so warm. 

Soon, he found himself chasing release. With a growl, he spent between Bilbo’s thighs and came to his senses to find that Bilbo had spent on himself. When he turned his lover over, he was treated to half-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile. Thorin smirked as he saw just how much of a mess he made of his hobbit. It was an image he wanted burned into his memory forever. 

~~~~~~

Find the kinktober list here!

[fantasyinallforms]

Thank you to @tolkienpinupcalendar for hosting this event!

I saw a piece of art that really spoke to me from Ewebean (I think) and I thought it would pair really well with today's prompt. This is the definition of the fuff-and-smut AO3 tag.

~~~~~

Day 14- Bagginshield-Getting caught/revoked consent

The last person left the throne room, and the rulers of Erebor relaxed with a sigh. 

“That was agonizing. Let’s never do it again.” Thorin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He felt soft hands pull the hair out of his face and kiss the side of his head. 

“We have another guild meeting tomorrow. With the silversmiths this time.” Bilbo reminded him sweetly. 

“And when are we supposed to find time for ourselves in all of this?” Thorin grumbled. 

“Around the time Fili is ready to take over as king, I believe.” It was said with humor, but Thorin wasn’t smiling or really paying attention at all. He was looking a little too closely at the way Bilbo’s vest hugged his curves and how the shirt he was wearing only just barely covered his collarbone. “Thorin, are you listening to me?” Thorin looked up dumbly at his consort. 

“I uh… no.” Thorin looked away sheepishly and coughed into his hand. His head snapped back immediately when he felt Bilbo’s weight settle on his lap. Bilbo was now straddling him on the throne, legs spread wide to fit around his thighs with a wicked grin. 

“And what, oh king, seems to have your attention?” Bilbo purred. As he spoke, he slowly started popping the buttons on his vest, never taking his eyes off Thorin. He took that as an invitation and grabbed the hobbit tightly, one hand on the back of his head with his fingers twisted into his curls and the other on his ass, sliding him forward to press them together. 

“Don’t say that like you aren't privy to how my eyes wander over you.” A hand still on the back of Bilbo’s head Thorin kissed down Bilbo's neck, sucking marks into his skin that he wanted others to see later. They were both hard and panting by the time he was done, and throwing caution to the wind, he divested Bilbo of most of his layers, leaving him only in the thin blue ambassadorial sash he wore over his regular attire. 

“You’re already so wet I don’t even think I have to prepare you.” Thorin stuck his center fingers as far into Bilbo as they could go and, as expected, met no resistance. Bilbo keened and tried to push down, which was Thorin's cue to give him something more satisfying to fuck himself on. He didn't bother taking off his clothes. He pulled himself out, lined up his cock, and sank into Bilbo's heat in one fell swoop causing his hobbit to throw his head back in ecstasy. It was stunning looking at Bilbo like this, especially when he was riding him. He looked effervescent, and If Thorin hadn’t spent the last two years by his side, he would have thought his perfections were conjured by his mind. There was nothing in this world that could make him worthy of such a treasure.

“You’re the most beautiful thing in Arda amral. I swear it on my life,” Thorin vowed as he let Bilbo use him for his pleasure, stroking his hands over his arms and chest. He wouldn’t let his hobbit have all the fun. He timed Bilbo's bounces and thrust into him hard. Bilbo yelped and fell forward onto his chest as he had hopped. He was soaking in the breathless moans that were now directly in his ear when the door to the chamber burst open, and in spilled half the company, Fili and Kili included. It caught both of them off guard, but Bilbo, in particular, startled badly. He curled into his chest as much as was possible in their current position. Thorin grabbed the furs he had draped over the arm of the throne and threw it around Bilbo’s shoulders to cover him before placing a protective hand over the back of his head. 

Thorin looked over his husband's shoulder to the interlopers, still stunned, a few steps past the door. 

“If I see any of you for the entire rest of this day, I will ship you off to play ambassador to the elven king for a fortnight. GET OUT!” With a flurry of curses and at least one gag that was probably Kili, they retreated and closed the door. Thorin turned his attention back to the hobbit burrowing into his chest. He smoothed back his hair. 

“They’re gone, my love. I thought that someone would at least knock before they came in.” Bilbo poked his head up. 

“Please tell me that did not just happen,” Bilbo pleaded. All Thorin could do was give him a sympathetic half-smile. “I’m not going to be able to look at them for a month.” He sat back up, and Thorin was suddenly very aware that he was still buried hilt deep in Bilbo’s tight heat. He snaked his hand around Bilbo’s waste to readjust and gave a little bounce. 

“Do you still want to continue?” Thorin asked hopefully. Bilbo shifted. 

“Please don't be upset, but no. I-I think the moment is over for me. Don’t worry, though. I’ll still make sure to finish you off. I wouldn't expect you to appreciate being left like this.” Bilbo sat up until they were no longer joined and wrapped his hand around his cock.

“Bilbo, stop,” Thorin said in a serious tone. The hobbit froze. “You don't need to do anything for me. If you want to stop, then we stop. You’re under no obligation to do anything else.” He helped Bilbo off the throne and carefully redressed him. Bilbo looked sheepish and nervous but let himself be tended to. 

“Are you sure you don't mind? I-I was the one that started all this after all and-” He halted Bilbo’s next words. 

“I don’t know who put these expectations in your mind, Amrâlimê, but you are not under any obligation to finish any coupling you start with me unless you want to. You already revoked consent, which is a perfectly respectable and reasonable thing to do. Please tell me you understand that?” He needed Bilbo to know that their lovemaking was never NEVER mandatory. He stood there searching those bright hazel eyes until he got a confirmation. He didn't know who put these ideals into his hobbit's mind, but he detested their existence. 

“Yes, I- thank you.” Bilbo's smile was genuine, and he relaxed at the sight of it. 

“I do have one favor to ask of you if you’re amenable?” Thorin asked, stretching his hand out For Bilbo to take. His love cocked his head in question. “Would you be ok with me holding you for a little while?” Bilbo took his hand and held it tight.

“Yes. I’d like that very much.” 

~~~~~

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[fantasyinallforms]

Despite my warnings, I've gotten some Anon hate for this series. I get that some are spicier than others, and I'm writing on a very wide range of kinks. Super saucy isn't everyone's thing, and I get that. That's why I've written a few more tender ones specifically for those who prefer that. The label is right on the can, so to speak. You're under no obligation to read it but don't be mad at me for writing it. Not really inspiring me to write more, but they also want that, so I'll keep going anyway. I do this for one month out of the 12 months, so kindly get out of my DM's.

Thank you to @tolkienpinupcalendar for hosting this event! Thank you to those who have said a kind word, and thank you to my fellows on the NSFT Discord. Your encouragement and chats have meant the world to me.

without further adieu

~~~~

Day 13- Bagginshield - Dom/Sub with light to medium degradation (Bilbo Dom)

Thorin walked through the door of his royal apartment, exhausted. Not physically but mentally. Being king meant making choices all day. It meant a constant barrage of information all directed at him. He was constantly expected to set an example and a standard for his people.  Most of the time, he loved it and couldn't imagine doing anything else. Other times he wanted to run far away from responsibility and choice. Like he did today. 

He removed his boots and walked into the living room to find Bilbo at his writing desk, scribbling letters for trade orders and ambassadorial summons. He looked up and smiled as Thorin walked in but knit his eyebrows when he saw Thorin's haggard disposition. 

"You held open court today, didn't you?" Bilbo asked. Thorin nodded yes. "I'll be sitting in my armchair when you're appropriately dressed." Bilbo put his pen back in the inkwell and left the room. A swooping sensation filled his stomach. He had been desperately hoping for that response. Not long after his coronation, the weight of rulership settled on him. It made him tired, irritable, and not the best company. He hadn't seen how much it hurt Bilbo until it became a shouting match. That fight ended in Thorin finally voicing all his burdens, and of course, his clever hobbit had a solution. He had been skeptical initially, but it took no time for him to fall in love with the dynamic they had built. One where he was not in charge and made no decisions. 

Thorin pulled the black and white dress Bilbo commissioned for him out of his wardrobe. It was made to resemble a maid outfit that was common in the shire, though it was likely much shorter than the real thing. He put it on and smoothed it out before walking into the sitting room. Bilbo was where he said he'd be, patiently waiting with his legs crossed and his fingers clasped together over his knee. 

"Go look at yourself in the mirror and tell me if what you’re wearing counts as appropriate attire," Bilbo stated. He turned to the mirror and realized his mistake. 

"I forgot my headband," Thorin replied. 

"Let's not also forget our manners in your haste. You forgot your headband, what?" 

"I forgot my headband, Master Baggins." Thorin recited. 

"Very good. Go get it, and also bring me the black paper-wrapped package in the top drawer of my desk." Thorin returned to the bedroom and pinned his hair up in a bun so that the headpiece would fit appropriately. He smiled at himself in the mirror. For the next several hours, Thorin was not a king. He did not have responsibilities or a kingdom. He would not be catered to or held in regard. He was something for Bilbo to play with or belittle as he saw fit. The package he was told to grab was heavier than he expected. It made him curious and excited.

"Good, we can start. Now, I am concerned with that little blunder that you've forgotten the rules, so I'm going to remind you of them. So long as you are wearing those clothes, you don't get to make choices. You do what I ask when I ask. Fail, and there will be punishment.  Nod if you agree." When he nodded, Bilbo got up and walked over to him to take the package." If you need to stop, what is the only word I'll accept?" Bilbo asked

"Smaug, Master Baggins," Thorin replied. Bilbo grinned.

"Good boy. Now that I'm confident you remember how this works, I have a present for you. I had it specially made." Bilbo unwrapped the paper to reveal a plug made of silver with a jeweled acorn engraved at its base. Thorin's eyes went wide as he gulped and shuddered in anticipation. It was a good size, bigger than any of the other ones Bilbo had used on him. "It looks like I'll be spending most of our time together helping you remember your manners. What do we say when someone gives us a gift?" 

"Thank you, Master Baggins. It's very generous. I'd be happy to accept such a gift from you." 

"I'm glad to hear it. Let's not waste any time then. Grab the oil and get on your hands and knees in front of me. I want to watch you open yourself up. Do not touch your cock." Bilbo sat back on his armchair and watched as Thorin worked his fingers into himself one at a time. He loved having Bilbo’s eyes on him, judging him worthy of his time. He looked over at him every time he added a new finger to watch the satisfying smile play out on his lips. When he could fit three comfortably, Bilbo commanded him to stop. “Very good. Now, head down, arch your back, and spread your legs.” Thorin hesitated. In all the times they had played together, this was not a position Bilbo usually put him in. He was typically expected to insert his own toys. His hesitancy earned him Bilbo’s foot on his neck. Bilbo applied pressure until his cheek was pressed into the floor. “I don’t like being ignored or disobeyed, Thorin.”  When Bilbo took the pressure off, Thorin didn’t move. He adjusted his hips and sloped his back as he was told.

“I’m sorry, Master Baggins, I forgot myself.” Thorin apologized. Bilbo tutted at him. 

“I’m inclined to forgive you only because you look quite pathetic like this. We’ve barely begun, and you’re already leaking onto the floor.” Bilbo trailed his hand over his back and down his thighs, paying close mind to never touch his cock or his stretched hole. Every small touch was like an electric shock. It left him wanting more and made him aware of how empty his body felt. He groaned and tried to think about the cool stone under his face. Soon, he felt cool metal tease at his entrance. “Remind me how much you want my present,” Bilbo commanded. 

“Please Bil-Master Baggins. I want to accept your gift! I want whatever you’re willing to give me!” He spread his legs a little wider and thrust his ass as far up as possible. Bilbo snapped his garters against his thighs with a hint of satisfaction. 

“Take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Do not stop breathing.” The moment after the command was given, Thorin felt the cold metal breach him. He grit his teeth but kept breathing as Bilbo pushed it further and further. It was painful, and the pressure pushed him open further than he had ever been before, but the stretch was intoxicating. After what seemed like forever, he felt the base settle against his ass and whimpered at the realization that this was constructed to settle just under the spot inside him that made him see stars. His body adjusted to the new intrusion just before Bilbo slapped it and forced another broken whimper from him. “A perfect fit. I might even make it part of the uniform. Bilbo tugged on it, testing the seal and laughing as Thorin buckled. “Well, now that you have my present, you can make me tea. Stand up.” Thorin tried to do what he was told and failed the first time as the plug shifted and made him tremble. His cock ached to be touched, and his body was on fire. He felt as alive as he did in battle. 

He was finally able to fully comply and hung the kettle on the fire. He could feel every inch of what was still inside him. He wanted to squirm and bounce until it brought him to completion, but he obeyed his command. The tea was made, and he prepared it exactly how Bilbo taught him in his first session. Two cream and two sugar. He brought it over to him, and Bilbo took it with a smile. 

“Well done. Kneel beside me and hold out your hands. Do not move, and do not spill a drop of my tea." Bilbo sat the saucer and cup on his open hands and started reading. Periodically removing the cup to take a sip. When he was finished, he demanded another one and remanded Thorin to the same position. Only this time, he did not drink it. He read, and Thorin continued to be his tea table until the tea itself went cold. After another ten minutes and long after his hands and legs had gone numb, he felt Bilbo run his hands along his leg and over his thighs. He lifted the front of his outfit and let out a disappointed sigh. "Well, isn't that a shame? Even with my present inside you, your cock has gone soft. It looks quite sad, just bobbing between your thighs like that. Don't you think you should apologize to me for such a pitiful display?" Bilbo dropped the hem of the dress and stared expectedly. 

"I'm sorry, Master Baggins." 

"Sorry for what, Thorin, be specific." Thorin stared at the floor. Bilbo was in a mood to humiliate him, likely blowing off his own steam from spending a day being diplomatic to those who barely deserved it. Thorin tried not to smile at the thought that his humiliation could help his husband in such a way.

"I'm sorry that my cock is pathetic enough that it can't stay hard. I'm sorry that you are forced to look at it, and I hope that you can forgive me for making you have to remind me of my manners." He felt his cock twitch, but with just how numb his legs were, it remained soft. Bilbo took the cold tea from him and used his foot to push Thorin over onto his side.  

"I accept your apology, and I won't even punish you. I'll give you another chance to redeem yourself. Go make me a fresh cup of tea, and if your legs are too numb to walk, you can crawl to the kitchen." His legs were too numb. He crawled across the floor, the plug shifting within him with every movement of his hips. By the time he got to the kitchen, his legs prickled, and his cock was half-hard again. He panted, aching with the burning need to touch himself but craving the promise of Bilbo’s reward more. He managed to stand long enough to hang the kettle over the fire before collapsing. In the time it took for the water to boil, he regained sensation enough to walk and re-entered the room with a hot cup of tea. 

"Hand me my tea and get on all fours in front of me facing the door. Do not slope your back," Bilbo demanded. When Thorin was in the correct position, Bilbo placed the cup just below his shoulder blades and walked around to face him. He grabbed his face and forced their eyes to meet.

"Now I think we can agree I've been very patient with you this evening. You're not an easy toy to train, but I will keep trying. What makes you worth it is how eager you are to please. That is a quality I approve of. I'll say this for the last time. Do not spill my tea, and if you can manage that, I'll use you as the little cum dump you’re training so hard to become." Bilbo watched the hopeful reaction play out on his face with a wicked grin. 

"Thank you, Master Baggins. You're more generous with me than I deserve." Thorin couldn't keep the adoration out of his voice if he tried. 

“Yes, I am,” Bilbo replied as he took his seat. The game he was about to have to play was apparent immediately. He felt Bilbo’s hand caress his rear, and then, with a bolt of beautiful agony, he felt the plug turn in him as Bilbo slowly took it out. He wanted to writhe and felt his shoulders shake, but the moment he heard the rattling of the teacup, he stopped and tried to steel his nerves. It left him panting and mumbling words of mercy. Bilbo showed him none, and he would get none unless he uttered their red word. He did not stop, and he did not slow down. When the plug was almost out of him, he pushed it back in with enough force to make Thorin scream, but he still did not move. He held fast as Bilbo assaulted his body with the toy until he was crying and begging for release. When he felt like he was about to collapse, Bilbo stopped picked up the tea cup and set it aside before uttering the first genuinely kind words of the session. 

“Thorin, you did so well. Not a bit of my tea went to waste. I’m going to give you a special reward just because I know how difficult that was. Turn around and open your mouth.” When Thorin turned around, Bilbo had his cock in his hand. He caressed his face and hooked his thumb into his mouth. He smeared some of his precum on his lips before slapping his cock on his tongue. Bilbo fed his cock into his mouth until Thorin swallowed all of it and fucked the back of his throat hard and fast. Thorin was so relieved to finally be worthy of Bilbo’s affection that he came untouched onto the cold floor. While his body shuddered from the aftershock of his climax, Bilbo gripped his hair and, with a cry, spent down his throat. 

Thorin didn't spill a drop.

~~~~~~~

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