#beorn x reader

[floral-and-fine]

Linger pt. 3

Beorn x female reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Beorn and the reader settle into living together after The Battle of the Five Armies.

Warnings: lemon

A/n: Thank you @luna-xial and @ewokiee for the help. This is pretty cute and full of some domestic fluff. It is 100% fact that Beorn’s love language is acts of service. Enjoy!

You sat at the large table, chin resting on hand as you swung legs back and forth. Living with Beorn was very comfortable, in fact, it was too comfortable.

After returning to his home, Beorn treated you as a welcomed guest, which was fine at first, but you weren’t his guest anymore and he wasn’t your host. The two of you were supposed to be living together, which meant his home was now your home, and that also meant the chores of the household should be your responsibility as well.

You weren’t exactly sure how to approach the subject, you knew that he was just treating as he thought was best. That this was his way of showing how much he cared for you. But from morning to night, he did everything, unintentionally making you feel useless from the sidelines.

Every morning, Beorn prepared breakfast, served it to you, then fed all his animals and gathered eggs from the chicken coop. By the afternoon, you could find him chopping the wood for the fire or tending to the garden before setting the table for lunch. It wasn’t until after dinner that Beorn would rest. He’d sit in his big chair and pull you onto his lap. His hand would absentmindedly play with your hair or run up and down your back as the two of you snuggled.

You wished more of your day could be spent together like that. While he completed chores, you were left to your own devices. Of course, he welcomed your company as he worked, he’d listen as you talked or watch as you played with the chickens, but you knew you could do so much more to help him. Not to mention, if you were doing your part, both of you would have more time to spend together, doing things besides watching him work.

Although, it’s not that you never wanted to sit and watch him work, it was quite a sight, how his strong arms lifted that heavy ax so effortlessly, or how his back muscles would flex when stretched after crouching over the garden. Your cheeks heated up as you pictured him.

But overall, there had to be some kind of balance.

You bit your lip, mulling over the list of chores you created in your head. There were things that you couldn’t possibly do, like chopping wood with that giant ax, but you could feed the animals, wash the laundry, clean up after meals, care for the garden. You figured he could continue serving breakfast since he woke up earlier than you anyways, but you could take over lunch, and perhaps you and him could take turns with dinner.

Nodding to yourself, you got to your feet and headed outside to find him. You hoped it wouldn’t hurt his feelings to suggest this, you appreciated everything he does for you but it was no longer necessary for him to work so hard all alone. All you wanted was to help take care of him and your home as much as he wanted to do the same for you.

You found Beorn near the chicken coop, he was busy feeding the hens and little chicks. You walked up to him, your hands tightly wringing your skirts.

Hearing your approach, he paused from his work and turned to face you.

“Need something Honey Bee?”  Beorn asked with a soft smile. “Hungry?”

You shook your head, before reaching out and taking his large hand in yours, and with the other you took the sack of feed from him. “Bear, I want to help.”

He tilted his head and then looked back at the chickens, “There’s no need, already fed them all.”

You sighed, “I mean I want to help with all the chores.”

His brow furrowed immediately, “Why?”

You could tell he was already worrying, fearful that he wasn’t doing enough for you, when that wasn’t the problem at all.

“I want to help care for our home,” you explained, giving his hand a light squeeze. “And I want to help you.”

He frowned slightly, “Are you sure?”

Living alone for so long and only having himself to depend on, made it difficult for him to accept help, even from you. For years now, he had done all this on his own, he hadn’t even considered that you could do part of the chores. Not only that, but he truly enjoyed caring for you, providing for you.

“I’m not a guest here anymore, right?” You smiled, swaying side to side playfully. “I live here with you, which means it’s my responsibility too.”

He nodded, understanding what you meant. “I don’t want you taking on too much or getting hurt just to prove your point,” he said, voicing his concerns.

You laughed, "Don't worry, I'll leave the ax-wielding to the expert."

“Yes,” he answered dryly, but there was a subtle glint of playfulness in his eyes.

Seeing how he had already started for the day there wasn’t much left to do besides the laundry.

You carried the basket of linens over to a tub you filled with water from the well. Using a washboard and soap you scrubbed and soaked each piece before wring it out and placing it in another basket.

Not so surprisingly, Beorn offered to carry the basket of wet laundry over to the clothesline for you, but you insisted that you were capable of doing so on your own. You had to admit it was quite adorable how he awkwardly stood there watching as you lugged the basket away.

You had forgotten that everything here was built for a person of Beorn’s size, including the clothesline, so almost immediately you had to return to the house to fetch the step stool Beorn had built for you in order to reach the line.

Curious, he had followed you back out to the line, and either out of habit or to just be helpful and began placing clothes on the line. You swatted his hands away.

“Bear,” you started in a firm tone. “I am perfectly capable of doing the laundry on my own,” you added.

He sighed, looking down at you for a moment, your hands were on your hips as you stared back at him.

“Alright,” he muttered, finally backing away.

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head as you pinned one corner of a sheet and then the other.

Once you were about half way through, you noticed Beorn, in his bear form, making his way around the perimeter of the yard. Even with the threat of orcs not being as serious as before, Beorn, still as cautious as ever, patrolled the area every evening before retiring for the night.

You couldn’t help but note that it was far too early for this to be his typical patrol. Normally, he waited for the sun to set, but it was still bright out.

From several meters away, Beorn kept an eye on you. He knew his behavior was uncalled for, that he was being unnecessarily overbearing, but he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure if it was purely instinctual or if part was from the trauma of losing his people.

You just looked so vulnerable to him, out in the field, mind focused on the task at hand, if anything were to happen, you wouldn’t be prepared for it.

He didn’t think it was possible for him to care as much as he did, not after everything.

He perked up, as you smiled and waved at him from the clothesline. “Bear! I’m all done!”

At a slow pace he made his way back to you, your hands cupped his furry face as your nails gently scratched behind his ears.  “Why don’t I get lunch ready while you get dressed?”

He growled in agreement, urging you back to the house with his head.

After lunch, you were sitting on Beorn’s lap, his hands running over your sides and waist as he nuzzled against the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in your scent as he kissed along your shoulder.

“Beorn?” You questioned, giggling, as he lowly growled and nipped your ear.

“Yes, Busy Bee?” He whispered in your ear. His deep voice and warm breath made you flush.

What began as innocent cuddling was now becoming something quite heated. His hands snaked down to your hips, holding you steady as he started to grind against you.

“Right now? Really?” You squeaked, feeling his cock harden under your ass.

He simply hummed in response, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to hike up your skirts over your thighs.

You turned in his arms, pressing your lips to his, your tongue slipped into his mouth with ease. Your hand clutched his hair tightly as you deepened the kiss.

One of Beorn’s hands stroked your thigh, inching slowly towards your core. His other hand reached around and started undoing the top of your dress. Quickly he tugged it down and he kneaded your exposed breast.

You leaned back against his strong chest, biting your lip as his fingers finally moved past your undergarments. His index finger slid between your slick folds, the digit expertly found your clit, circling your bud lightly before adding more pressure.

You writhed against him, your body unintentionally pressing against his clothed groin, causing his cock to twitch. He groaned, loving how it felt to have you on top of him, panting and coming undone.

His finger moved lower, easing into your entrance. Beorn smiled to himself as you gasped, your body tensing as your cunt stretched to accommodate his thick finger.

“That’s it,” he murmured as he pumped his finger in and out. He could feel your juices overflowing and dripping down his hand. “Are you ready for another?”

You nodded, “yes.”

During sex, Beorn always demonstrated amazing self control, always so careful not to hurt you, and making sure the experience was pleasurable for both of you.

Gently he inserted his middle finger with the other, sliding them back and forth in your cunt at a leisurely pace. You rolled your hips signaling to him that he could pick up the pace as he finger fucked you.

Beorn chuckled, feeling you squirm and mewl as his fingers curled, pressing against your g-spot. He could tell you were finally ready for him.

Lightly he kissed your neck and cheek, removing his fingers from your cunt. He shifted a little, moving just enough to free his cock from his trousers. Beorn used his hand, his fingers and palm still wet with your fluids, to prepare himself, giving his member a few nice strokes before inserting the tip into your wet pussy.

He hissed, clenching his jaw as he eased the rest of his length inside of you. Your cunt was so incredibly tight and hot, squeezing around his shaft. He gave you a moment, before he started moving his hips.

The wooden chair creaked and groaned as fucked you. He held your hips firmly, his nails slightly digging into your skin. His large cock felt so good, you felt so incredibly full with him inside you.

You felt like a doll as he did all the work from underneath. Your tits bounced and jiggled as he thrusted quicker and harder. You reach behind, your hand grabbing onto his mane, your head rolled back, and your toes began to curl.

“Ah, Beorn,” you cried, your eyes squeezing shut as you came, gushing around his cock.

You immediately went limp, letting your Bear hold you up.

His arms wrapped around you holding you down as he got close to cumming, one of his arms was around your hips, the other between your breasts with his hand resting against your neck. As he came his grip on you tightened, he was practically snarling while filling you with his seed.

The two of you spent some time catching your breaths in silence as you recovered. A couple of minutes passed by and shifted around to face Beorn.

“What was that all about, Bear?” you sighed, resting your head against his chest.

“What do you mean?” He replied, his fingers grazing over your bare back lovingly. You felt his chest rumble as he spoke, the exhaustion was evident in his voice.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed.

Beorn closed his eyes, his hand still caressing your back without pause, “Just wanted to take care of my busy little Bee.”

It was true, he simply needed to care for you in some way, letting you help with chores left him feeling like he needed to make it up to you somehow. You were so precious to him, and all he wanted was to show you how much you meant to him everyday, and he did this by working hard to provide for you, or, in this case, working hard to pleasure you.

“Well, I thoroughly enjoyed it,” you murmured, your own eyes closing as you both took a midday nap.

[ohnonotnow]

my library

here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help

will update the list as I read

Thorin

Smoke, iron and Thorin

Fire and Gold

Learning Khuzdul

Braid of Gold

Thorin being soft

The Beauty of Chance

Those Hands

Misunderstanding

The arrival

A king's crown

Covered In Steam

There's just inches in between us

Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews

In This Moment 

Agreement

Symphony of your life

Oh so quiet

Confession

Find Your Way Back

Fili

fili oneshots

Moonrise

The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident

Stay with me

The Redeemer

Durin's Garage

Restless

Lost My Way

Charcoal

Kili

The book keeper

insecurities

The beauty and the Beast

getting back at Kili for teasing

My Treasure

Madly in love

It's in his kiss

Love Bites

Sway With Me

Wood Carvings

Softly. . .

Sweet like nectar

A Shot in the Dark

Beorn

Early Mornings

Beorn takes care of you when you're injured

Linger

Legolas

Watcher of Wanderers

The Innocence of Brutality

Blessing

Sensitive

Being best friends with Legolas

Hazy Memories

Spellbound

Thranduil

Bookworm

Relax

Best friends father

Fascination

Flower On My Skin

To Meet Under the Stars

Passenger Princess

Autumn Thunderstorm

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

Haldir

Gentle Dark

Lindir

My Heart Is In Your Hands

Moonlight

Just a Little Help

Warriors Great Tales

The Fountain

Return to Me

Èomer

Burnt Bread

A Helping Hand

Wildest Dreams

Falling In Love With A Librarian

SFW alphabet

Happiness

A Roll in the Hay

Blessing

Turning Points

More characters

various characters oneshots

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

Journey to Erebor

Hair braiding

Elves + Braiding

What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader

[shirefantasies]

Little Flower- Beorn x F!Shy!Reader

A request from @peachpitpoisonlips! Always down to write more Beorn 😁 where my Beorn girlies at?

Warnings: angst at the beginning (fluff later I promise!!!), canon typical peril

Perhaps you were simply a fool. Would anyone but, after all, have set out into the woods so late and with so little? But what choice did you have? Homeless, you were little more than a nomad. Some towns welcomed you in, but it was clear when the novelty wore off and your lack of coin impeded. Selfish as it may have been, it rent your heart to see families walking hand in hand together, even couples sitting side by side or the occasional set of twins playing a game of hopscotch or arguing over some book. Everyone with some outward tether practically built into their lives by some divine craft, a gift from the Valar you could not resist sometimes feeling had been wrest from your hands. But did you know any better?

The woods felt thick, leaning and pressing down upon you as though you held something they greatly desired tucked close against your chest, just out of reach. Every sound had your head darting this way and that. Were something to come for you, you had a small knife to your name to fight with and that was that. No fine weapon of iron, no great wooden shield. At least you were a fair climber. Getting up into the trees would help against a wolf at least if not a-

Rustling startled you out of your own mind, jarring your vision back into focus of the fading light filtering between the trees. Soon it would be nightfall. Things were moving in the gathering shadows. Stepping slower, more carefully, you swung your gaze back and forth but saw nothing and pressed on.

Dodging a jutting stone, you almost startled yourself kicking up some leaves, let loose the faintest of nervous chuckles before hearing a distant scrape. Taking hold of the next tree trunk ahead of you, you peeked out, scouting the horizon. There!

A great black bear, the most massive one you’d ever seen, lumbered closer to your place, huffing. Dread slid down your throat like cutting icicles as its eyes slid right to yours. This was not how you wanted to die. You’d always imagined it more as a release, giving up from the defeat of shivering cold beneath surrendered blankets. And yet what anticipated you? A life of brief antiquity, no hearth or fields to call your own? Not a soul to call your name once you were not there speaking it?

This, too, could be a release. Inhaling deeply, you stepped from behind the trunk and closed your eyes, waiting, waiting…

No pain, no sound, not a single thing befell you, and there you were finding yourself frowning, your eyelids peeling back open just in time to see the bear’s form melt and shrink, becoming a man before your eyes. Gaping, you studied his sturdy, bearded form, the pair of brown eyes looking you over, then softening. He reached out a hand and you flinched back.

“I have no reason to hurt you, little flower,” he said, voice low, accented, and for emphasis raised his hands up and away from you, palms out.

Something about the nickname, even from a tall, imposing stranger, brought a shaky smile to your lips. Heaving breaths came a bit slower to your aching chest. Completely frozen at their shaky hold upon twisting roots, however, your feet did not cooperate.

“Come on,” he took one step closer, “you cannot stay here. Come with me, please.”

Please. Eyes widening, you finally shook out of your stupor and slowly gave a tiny nod, stepping forward to his side. Who was this man? How had he transformed before your very eyes? As your gaze drifted over his form, dodging quickly over his bare chest with heat creeping to your cheeks, you caught sight of the broken manacle still binding his left wrist. Perhaps it would be rude to ask questions. Maybe he would change his mind about guiding you.

At least you could learn his name. Thus, you asked it, voice still quiet as air returned to your lungs.

“Beorn,” the man said, “And you need not be afraid. These are my woods. It is the elven woods you must be careful of. But these borders are far. You will not wander there.”

Taking his pause as an invitation whether it was one or not, you supplied your name. “So you… guard this place? Who else lives here?”

A wince cut across Beorn’s face at that, softening his severe features into something more timid. Something that had hurt. That must have been how you looked to him, too.

Just as quick, though, that vulnerable look was gone again, gone completely stoic. “My animals and I call this place our home.”

“Are- are they…?” How could you put it? Do they turn into people too? Are you an animal? What strange magic lives in this place.

“Just animals, little flower. There are no others like me. I live alone.”

Perhaps you had more in common with the bear-man than you’d have thought. You shook your head at his last comment, though.

“If you have them, you are never fully alone. …I- I love animals,” you admitted quietly.

“You might see them, then,” Beorn replied, “but first you need a meal and a rest. Perhaps a bath.”

You could have argued, but he was right. Even if he had not been, he could have mauled you. The more you observed the way Beorn looked at you, how he took much shorter, slower strides to stay at your side and hovered a hand by your back, though, the less you could picture him attacking without grave cause. The same part of you that had resigned to Beorn’s being the end of your life now gave a faint, internal laugh.

~

Another temporary home. This time a cottage a ways deeper in the woods, doors and windows lined with intricate woodwork and stone. A rocking chair rested upon the porch, welcoming you to a small, cozy home with pillars as beautifully carven as its exterior. Beorn settled you down in one of the great chairs at the dining table, a table you could not help wondering at given his solitude.

"Stay right there. Lucky for you I already had broth warming. Care for some bread?”

"Sure," you agreed, nodding faintly.

Back to another house of novelty. One more night of entertaining a stranger, this time one who almost killed you. One who was an even greater rarity than yourself.

From the stove across the way, Beorn looked over his shoulder at you, and you felt a flush of heat rise to your face.

"So..." You wrung your hands. "Get many visitors?"

"No," he shook his head, "And I do not try to. Though I confess some days I tire of my voice being the only one heard. I like yours well enough."

Well enough. Well enough for what? For one night? To tolerate? To keep? No. You shook your head, feeling an even redder hot glow about your face.

“Thank you,” you answered quietly.

"Here."

Crossing the room, Beorn approached you with a large pot in hand. Sliding a bowl and spoon in front of you, he ladled you up a serving of steaming brown broth and set a slice of bread at its side. You hesitated, staring down at it until you noticed his expectant look and took up your utensil. The broth slid warmly down your throat, bringing a glow back to your body you hadn't realized you lost.

"Good?"

"Good," you nodded, taking a bite out of the bread, the softness of which was equally warm.

You spoke very little during that meal, both of you, and though you could not speak on Beorn's behalf you simply did not know what to say.

~

Waking up was the only thing that brought you realization of your sleep, a state you were not sure when you entered. Large, fat bumblebees drifted lazily about the air above your head, one landing upon your knee and butting its head up against it, which brought a shaky chuckle to your lips. All uncertainty was forgotten in that little moment of levity, bringing you to throw off the thick woolen blanket you had no memory of even laying eyes on.

Your location? Still within Beorn's cottage, that haven of warm hearth and hanging candles and those gorgeous pillars you'd begun to wonder if the man had made himself. Could hands so large create something so beautiful? Stranger things had happened. You'd seen them turn from a bear's paws in the blink of an eye, after all.

Rising scents distracted you, pulling you fully onto your feet. Softly you padded across the floor, still chilled from the night's air.

Across the room Beorn stood and gently slid a pair of softly-cooked eggs onto a plate aside sliced apples and some sort of honey-drizzled cakes. Eyes darting your way and back down to his work, he spoke.

“For you,” he said, nodding toward the plate.

Simple enough, but a beautiful and comfortable sight. Taking the seat across from Beorn, you ate, sneaking glances at him. This time, though, he did not allow for silence long.

“So what brings you here, little flower? Where do you belong?”

Little did he know how the little flower before him wilted. Wincing, you replied in a voice barely more audible than had you whispered. “Nowhere. I have no home.”

Brown eyes widening, Beorn softened again, a rare lifting of his stoicism that moved your heart faintly beyond the borders of your pity.

“I understand,” he told you, gaze dropping, “I am the last of my people. Sole carrier of a legacy of hunted people. I belong nowhere but with myself.”

“Do you never wish for more?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself, leaning forward in your tower of a chair. “Have you never desired that someone would stay?”

“Who would?” Beorn shrugged, venturing another glance into your eyes. “What have I to offer if I am not game?”

“To me,” you replied, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks, “You have offered kindness. The most beautiful home I have seen. Realer company than the pity nights often given. Your heart is worth far more than your pelt, Beorn.”

At that, it was the great hulking man’s turn to be speechless.

~

You were taken out into the yard, crunching across the crisp green grass at Beorn’s side and handed a dented metal pail. He nodded encouragement and watched closely as you shakily milked one of his cows. Brushed one of the longer-furred ones, a smile crossing your lips. Repeated every animal’s name softly. The skin-changer, as he called himself, all but started at the welcome one of his horses gave, butting her head into your hand.

“She was the most difficult spirit to tame,” he explained.

“Kindred spirit to you, then,” you teased, shyly handing him his brush back and smiling when he did not recoil, mirroring your expression and shaking his head as his fingers closed over yours.

“Yes,” he said, “Perhaps so.”

~

It was at Beorn’s bidding that you returned with him for dinner, this time a roast with savory brown gravy and a variety of vegetables nestled at its side. How all things looked nicer out in nowhere escaped you, but it charmed your soul nonetheless.

The next words spoken cut into your thoughts with a heavy realization: leaving it all would engrave the deepest wound yet.

“Where will you go next?”

Your face fell, fork dropped at your side as you inhaled deeply. “I… I do not know.”

“Nowhere you particularly care to see?” Beorn prodded.

Your breaths sped a bit, bringing you back to the sinking black water of despair that had swallowed you in the woods. Darkness closed in on your vision. “No. I travel only where I have not yet been sent away.”

“And that,” Beorn's eyes were your anchor, the only points of focus remaining through the haze, “Is not what I mean to do.”

You frowned. You looked up from your sticky white sea of oats, the golden ooze of egg yolk spilling onto its borders.

“The decision is your own. I know the feeling of the cage. But the animals…they would miss you. I would miss you. Perhaps I have been alone for too long.”

A bumblebee lazed past your head. One buzz sounded, two, three. Beorn swallowed, stared at you like he had never seen you before. You smiled. His hand crept to rest over yours across the surface of the table. For once, you did not feel like a novelty.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @noodlesduck @kpopgirlbtssvt | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[sorcerousundries]

Lalala vs okokok with lotr and the hobbit

Your the lalala, they’re the okokok

Thorin, Fíli, Aragorn, thranduil, Elrond, Arwen, bilbo, gimli, Sam, Éomer, Glorfindel, Bard, Beorn, glóin, Tauriel, Faramir, Boromir, Haldir, Bifur, Dwalin, Balin, Dori, óin, Galadriel

They’re the lalala, your the okokok

Legolas, Frodo, merry, pippin, Éowyn, kíli, celeborn, also Arwen, Lindir, bombur, ori, nori, bofur, meludir

[luna-redamancy]

Ravishing (Beorn x Reader)

Warnings: Slight breeding kink talk, it’s Beorn though so we shouldn’t be too surprised. 17+, nothing exactly NSFW but definitely mentions sex. 

Word Count: 946

You couldn’t help but look at yourself in the mirror. The way your body moved when you turned to the side, how the light would catch on certain pieces of your body that you’d rather have removed than face. Pinching at your extra belly fat leftover from your pregnancy, you tried to see the bright side of things like how everyone told you to. 

It’s easy to tell people to not be hard on themselves, but harder to do when you’re the one dealing with yourself and certain thoughts that shape into opinions that won’t go away no matter how much you’d try. 

Snapping out of your thoughts, you began to put the laundry away like how you told everyone you were, frowning at the thought circling in your head that your clothes don’t fit like how they used to. 

“The little one keeps calling for you,” Beorn called to you from the doorway, he had been watching you this entire time, but he didn’t want you to be embarrassed even further about your insecurities. 

“Oh!” You jumped, not expecting to hear anyone for a while. “Could you finish putting these away then, Bear?” You asked, motioning to the clothes basket as you began to slip past him to go into the kitchen where your small babe was whining to be held by you, and only you. 

Beorn hmmed as he recalled your movements earlier, his heart feeling a sharp sting at your expression as you analyzed your form beneath your dress, how your face seemed so disgusted. 

Putting away the clothes, Beorn decided to come up with a game plan with only one major unpredictable variable- the baby. 

As he returned to the kitchen, he saw you curled up in one of the large chairs, your baby girl resting calmly on your chest as you rubbed her back up and down. “I don’t know why she won’t let you put her down for a nap,” Your voice broke the comfortable silence as you stood up to move her to her small crib for her nap. 

Beorn grunted as he slipped behind you after you set her down carefully, looping his arms around your waist. “Papa bear means playtime,” He recalled how often he would play with the child and usually when she would get tired for a nap, you’d be the one to call it quits and take her to rest. 

Nodding in response, you leaned against his chest, only to tense as his hands began to rub over your tummy. “Bear, what’re you doing?” You laughed in nervousness, not really enjoying the attention being placed on your least desired area on your body. 

Instead of responding, Beorn began to tug you to the bedroom, knowing his bees would come to tell him when the baby would awake. 

“Bear?” You questioned as he shut the bedroom door, landing his intense gaze on you. 

“Take off your dress.”

“Not really one for a bedside manner, still, hm?” You tried to play off your nervousness as sarcasm as you tugged off your yellow dress and slip. With the baby around, you two haven’t exactly had time to be intimate, so this would be the first time he would see you fully. To see how you’ve changed and grown. 

Instead of following through with kissing you and moving you into the bed like normal, Beorn pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his hands rested respectfully on your waist. Pulling away, Beorn turned the two of you so you were in front of his chest, you both facing the mirror. 

“What do you see?” He questioned, rubbing circles on your flesh while you took in your body. 

Noting your lack of response, Beorn slowly moved his hand to your belly, carefully caressing it like how he had done when you two first found out you were with a child. 

“I will tell you what I see.” Beorn dragged kisses from your shoulder to behind your ear before beginning. 

“I see a powerful woman, the woman I love and the woman that birthed my healthy daughter. I see a woman with curves and beauty,” As he talked he began to gently knead your sides and thighs. 

“Beorn--” You tried to butt in, but he wasn’t having any of that. 

“You have transformed through your pregnancy,” He locked eyes with you through the mirror. “You grew, you developed more curves and became more for me to love. You have been glowing since the day I bred my cubs into you, your body adapting to accommodate them.” Beorn huffed as he saw you try to argue with him. 

“You are a thousand times more beautiful than the day I met you, my mate.” Beorn truly meant it, seeing you pregnant with his cub, then how beautiful your body became after your pregnancy was over made him want to ravish you and worship your body every night, not to mention fill you with his seed and watch you grow with his child once more. 

Your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape. Beorn had never been a talker, so for him to go out of his way to explain his love for your body was something else entirely. 

“I may just have to prove it to you…” He nearly growled in your ear, the sound alone arousing you as he then decided to take you to the bed, carefully laying you down before moving to get naked also. 

“To remind you how ravishing you truly are.” Beorn smiled down at you as he began to kiss his way up your legs. 

Let’s just say, with Beorn by your side, you won’t think bad thoughts often, for he will be the first to remind you how ravishingly gorgeous you truly are.

Tags-

@lady-of-lies @all-things-fandomstuck  @fizzyxcustard @izzydaelleth @aquaangel18@raindancer2004 @love-colorfulglittercollection @underthemoon-n​ @ladylouoflothlorien​ @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @legolaslovely​ @bthtallmadge2​ @abesottedlass @wilhelmyna @tigereyesf​ @aspookybunny​

@floral-and-fine​

[multific]

A Life We Can Have

Beorn x Reader

Warnings: injury

Summary: After an unlucky night where you were chased by Orcs, your life forever changes when a huge bear saves you.

You wake up with a sudden realization. 

You had no idea where you were, or how you got there.

All you could recall from the night before was that a bunch of Orcs were after you as you ran through the woods. 

With a bleeding leg and a possibly broken wrist, you tried to dodge their arrows.

You ran fast but they managed to catch up. One of their wolves bit your ankle, making you fall and let out a groan of pain. 

You could recall the loud noises the orcs made, you remember crying and the pain in your ankle and wrist getting worse.  

Then a giant bear came out of nowhere and killed them all. 

Your last thought was that you would be the dinner for this bear. You weren't exactly sure what happened after that at all. 

But somehow, you woke up in this rather nice and cosy house. 

As you moved, you let out a groan, the pain in your body finally setting in. You ran for so long, your feet hurt. Your ankle hurt where the wolf bit you and your wrist hurt because you fell and injured it.

You looked around the house, but no one was there.

You thought a giant might have lived there, given how huge everything was.

You were only a simple human, but you were well aware of all creatures that lived on this Earth with you. But you had no clue what kind of a creature would live in such a house.

You slowly got off the bed and made your way over to the table where you found bread, so you took a little.

This is when you hear the noise of someone chopping wood. 

Being mindful of your leg, you slowly walked out and this is when you saw him. 

His back was to you, and you took a moment to take him in.

He was huge, he easily chopped the wood with his giant axe. His back was covered in scars and along his spine he had hair going down, it looked more like fur. 

A very hairy man, but who were you to judge?

You heard stories of a beast living alone in the woods. He cared for the animals but he didn’t like company. 

A fierce man, who was now chopping wood in front of you.

You weren’t sure if you should talk to him or not, one thing was for sure, you didn’t want to startle him.

“Umm.” you started but as soon as you did he turned around, with that huge axe in his hands.

“You should be resting, you hurt your leg very badly.”

“I-I did but… Am I at your house?”

“Yes.” he replied with a lot of annoyance in his voice and you nodded.

“So, you saved me last night from the bear? Thank you.”

“Go back to bed. I’ll prepare some tea once I finish chopping the wood.” you didn’t argue, why would you? Or rather how could you? 

The man was huge but you saw him more as a gentle person, despite his rough edges. 

And you also feared that instead of the wood, he would chop you in half.

You just slowly moved back into the house and sat on the chair by the huge table. Your leg did hurt and your wrist was throbbing a little, but your mind was still running at a hundred miles. You tried to recall what happened but couldn’t. 

You knew you fainted, but then what happened to the bear? Did this man scare it away? Did he fight it?

He did look rather dangerous with his axe. Maybe he could take the bear in a fight. 

Whoever this man was, he certainly lived alone, looking around his home it was cosy, but it didn’t have the touch of a female, clearly, he was a bachelor. Not that it was a problem, it was only an observation on your part.

You needed to think of other things because if you didn’t, the pain would hit you.

You heard him enter through the door as he soon headed for the stove. In complete silence, he started to make tea for you as you munched on the bread you took earlier. 

He clearly didn’t have many visitors. You watched as he worked, trying your best to ignore the pain, you watched his hands work, you watched as a shackle was on his wrist, it must have been there for some time now. 

He soon put a cup in front of you.

“Drink it and leave.”

“Uhm, but my ankle…” you were very much up playing the pain. It made the huge man in front of you groan.

“Alright, you can stay until you get better. I’m not too fond of visitors.”

Clearly. But he will have to deal with you because you don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Especially not when there are Orcs in these woods and you have only one working leg.

Even if the pain wasn’t that bad, you still preferred the comfort of a home over the cold floors of the forest. 

---

"What is this?" you asked him as you munched on the deliciousness in your hand. 

"Honey cake."

"I really like it." you said. "Did you make it yourself?"

"I did."

"It's really really good."

He didn't reply, but you didn't expect him to. 

Your leg and wrist felt much much better now. His herbs worked better than magic. 

You also noticed that slowly, he warmed up to you. He even offered you his smaller room so you didn't have to sleep on the hay or floor.

He was a strange man.

Affectionate, yet he looked afraid of it.

You could see that deep down, he was a very warm person. However, the terrible things that happened to him, made him cold.

Winter was near.

So Beorn told you that you will need to help him with his farm and animals. You had no problem with that. Given that you grew up on a farm, and you loved to help.

And by the time the snow arrived, his home was ready for the harsh winter.

And so were you.

You made clothes for yourself and him. He didn't really want to take the clothing but now, he wore it every day. He said it was so warm, he enjoyed it.

It filled you with pride that he wore the clothes you made, he ate the food you prepared and he listened to you.

In return one evening, he told you a story, a story of his own, his terrible past and what he went through. 

You cried that day, letting the tears fall as he reached over to wipe your tears away.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"My heart breaks for you. No one deserves that kind of torture." you said as you lifted your hand and touched the shackle on his wrist.

That day, Beorn promised himself he would never tell you another story of his.

He hated to see you cry.

He wanted to see you laugh, like you laughed when you played with his horses or bees.

How or when you became so important to him was a mystery to Beorn, but here he was now.

He sat in his chair as he watched you, you were making a blanket. You said his house was rather cold for you, so you needed something warm. He wanted to offer that he could sleep with you so you wouldn't be cold but he didn't want to cross that line.

He was sure you only viewed him as a friend and nothing more.

You often found yourself babbling and telling him stories. Stories he most likely would call nonsense. 

But in truth, he loved listening to you talk. Every story he remembers and could recall at any moment.

One evening, after dinner, you just sat on the couch he made for you, you cuddled up with your blanket and a book when Beorn joined you. It was snowing heavily outside, so he wouldn't go out for his usual runs.

He sat down and you offered him a smile before you looked back at your book.

But out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was staring at you.

"Is there something on my face?" you asked but he shook his head, no.

He was behaving strangely. You tried your best to focus on your book but it was difficult.

"What are your plans once winter is over?" oh, he wanted you out of his hair.

"I-I-You don't have to worry, I'll leave as soon as I wouldn't freeze to death in the woods. I really appreciate your hospitality and I don't want to bother you longer than needed," you said but didn't look at him.

"It's no bother. I was asking only because then we could make you a bed."

"I have a bed." you looked at him, confused.

"You have a mattress, I was thinking of making a bedframe, so it is more comfortable." 

"So you want me to stay?"

"Only if you want to."

"I would love to. I enjoy your land very much. The beautiful trees and the animals. I can only imagine what it must look like during the spring."

"Is my home the only thing you enjoy about being here?" you looked at his face as he avoided your eyes.

"What are you asking?" your voice was quiet, and he finally looked at you.

"I grew very fond of you, I never imagined myself in this situation, but... Love is not something I believe I deserve. I am a monster, my past is... awful. I do not deserve such a flower like you. But I also won't be able to let you go. Only if you reject my feelings- I want you to be happy here with me. But if you choose to leave, I won't force you to stay." his words honestly surprised you, you never expected him to confess to you.

"I would love to stay with you. I just wasn't sure of your feelings. You hide them very well."

"It is a skill I learned." you smiled at his comment. 

He moved towards you and you moved with him, he pulled you into his arms and you never felt warmer.

It was quiet, you could hear his heartbeat and the fire crackle behind you. 

"You deserve happiness as much as anyone." you said as he tightened his hold around you. 

"Thank you." he whispered and he just held you for hours.

It was the first time in his life that someone touched him with care and affection for what felt like years.

And slowly, he started to believe he deserved this happiness.

---

Spring arrived with flowers.

As the snow melted and everything began to bloom, your love fully bloomed.

You looked at Beorn as he tended to the bees.

You followed him to his goats and helped him feed his horses.

A smile never once leaves your lips. And he is much the same.

Then you cooked lunch for both of you, he loved your cooking and you were happy to make him anything he wanted.

Given how fresh and amazing his crops were, it was easy to prepare something amazing.

Then after dinner, the two of you would go to sleep in his bed, him holding you close to his chest.

It was a simple life, but it was all you could hope for.

You often catch him smiling even if it's a small one.

You make him happy and he makes you happy.

This was the life you always wanted.

Although you never imagined you would have it with a man who can turn into a bear, you weren't complaining.

He was your bear.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Early Mornings

This is for my dear friend @medusas-hairband..a character I've never written before, so please, be lenient with me <3

Words: 1,2k

Characters: Beorn x reader

Warnings: none

Beorn set down the dripping pot of honey with a low grunt that you knew to be an expression of his desire for a reaction rather than a comment on the weight of the humongous receptacle. 

“Hello, my love,” you purred, pressing a kiss – your lips still chilly from the cold outside – onto his furry cheek; you would have thanked him more effusively, but you knew that he’d just as soon feel your gratitude.

Raking your nails along his nape, you witnessed the blossoming of the hesitant smile that was a clear indication of the happiness he wouldn’t readily verbalise, and your own heart warmed at the sight of his fluttering lids and stilling hands.

What a tremendous, beautiful, and slightly frightening power it was to hold this impressive being in the palm of your hand, a thousand invisible tendrils of heartstrings and thoughts coiled around your fingers so tightly that – if you were to clench your fist too abruptly – you could wound him in ways unfathomed and awful.

Today, you were expecting friends and acquaintances for a late spring celebration, and you had promised to make your famed honey-cakes – one batch for your guests and one for your beloved – hence why you had been up even before the sun had risen on this beautiful day.

Upon waking though, you had already found your bed deserted and the comforting, warm presence by your side gone; not a man of many words, Beorn often preferred showing you how much he loved both you and your skills. Hence why – without losing a single syllable about it – he had gone out to make sure you had all the ingredients you’d need readily available.

Truth be told though, you would never have perfected this recipe without him and – despite being so huge that he frightened many a stranger – your husband flowed around you like water, never standing in your way and handing you tools and bowls without hesitation.

After years of being by your side, Beorn knew every step of the procedure by heart and so he – usually so lumbering and intimidatingly stoic – danced around you in perfect synchronicity.

It never ceased to amaze you how light-footed he could be, his strong arms reaching around you gracefully to retrieve sugar and flour from the high shelves he had built with his own two hands long years ago.

“Here,” he muttered, handing you another spoon, as he knew full well that you had already tossed the last one into the sink without remembering that there were yet ingredients to be measured out. 

This one was your favourite; Beorn had carved it for you according to your exact specifications to measure out sugar and honey, and you only ever cleaned it with a damp cloth to prevent the wood from cracking and splitting due to excessive exposure to water.

“Can you help stir?” you asked sweetly, but your husband merely cocked an eyebrow at you, wriggling the tiny pot containing a rare spice you loved; you always bemoaned having forgotten to sprinkle a dash into the dough whenever you prepared the cake alone and – as he was by your side this time – Beorn tried to spare you the minute disappointment that dampened your enjoyment of your own creation.

“Ah yes,” you cheered. As you made to grab the container though, his hand shot up forcefully, effectively putting it out of reach.

“A kiss,” he demanded in a low rumble that sounded much more severe than it was.

“Oh? And here I was believing you were helping me for free because you love me so,” you replied in mock vexation while your arms already snaked around his sturdy neck, “you drive a hard bargain, Sir.”

You were able to keep a straight face for another few heartbeats before your expression melted into fond amusement and you nuzzled his cheek lovingly; the kiss – teasing and sweetened by the honey you had licked off the last spoon – you pressed onto his lips spoke of all the deep devotion that ran between you like a timeless river. 

There had never been much need for great declarations and passionate speeches, not when his calm, reliable presence and his strong arms were so eloquent and telling.

Beorn’s massive paw cradled your slender hand, placing the spice in it like the treasure it was even as his own mouth curled into a mischievous grin; contrary to the common conception, he was a creature of great humour whose laughter was roaring and joyful enough to make the beams of your little house tremble.

Laughing under your breath, you added a smidgeon of golden spice and leaned back into his broad chest when his arms encircled you to help you stir – as you had asked him to – by closing his hand around yours once more and pushing the thick, wooden ladle through the dense, fragrant dough together with you.

By this time, you were humming a happy tune, safe and comfortable in the arms of your beloved who pressed small kisses onto the top of your head, each one of them an admission of pride, love, and support, as you poured your marvellous concoction into the greased mould.

“Oi, down you,” your husband hissed softly and, when you turned around to stoke the fire under the oven, you found Beorn covered in small critters – eager to see what you were doing and hopefully snatch a bite – which he carefully, but not without determination, tried to wrangle without you noticing.

Moreover, the fire was already blazing merrily, and the oven was ready to welcome the fruit of your labours. As your hands were occupied, you just pressed your cheek against his torso to let him know how much you appreciated all he did for you and the warm smile of gratitude he offered you in reply almost made you drop your unbaked cake because you so longed to hug him tightly.

Times were hard, you were the first to admit it, but – in moments like the one that melted into syrupy bliss between your flour-coated fingers – it seemed bright and marvellous to you; whenever it was just the two of you – alone without ever being lonely – you could believe again that this world was worth fighting for, Beorn and the sweet companionship you shared convinced you of the immeasurable merit of all that stood to be lost.

Beorn finally shook off his insistent friends and handled the transfer into the hot oven himself while you dusted off your hands absent-mindedly; the slow, careful grin of complicity and trust he gave you over his left shoulder made your heart throb with longing though and a devious idea came to you.

“Say husband,” you purred, “we shall be confined to this hut for the next hour or so. What say you to returning to bed as we wait for the cake to be done?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise and then his warm, broad hands closed around your waist and lifted you into his arms effortlessly.

“That,” he murmured as he pressed his face into the side of your throat, “sounds like a very good idea.”

So, that's all the requests for this weekend...

Sorry for the delay, life has been crazy lately and this week will be hell :(((

I hope you liked this my dear, if not, let me try again next week :D

Lots of love ❤️

[meganlpie]

Growing Love

Based on this request:  I do have a story request for your the hobbit book. I was thinking of possibly the reader staying at Beorn’s and the grow to love each other overtime and they eventually admit it to each other.

Here you are! My apologies for the wait. *Beorn is NOT mine and is the property of JRR Tolkien.*

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight angst(?), first time writing Beorn. Reader is described as being shorter than Beorn. Beorn is theorized to be anywhere from 7'3"(220.98cm) to 12'(365.76cm) tall.

Pairings: Beorn x reader

When you had first accidentally stumbled upon the house in the woods, you thought you would die. After all, there was a giant, great bear right on your heels. You managed to find a small space to hide where the bear couldn't get you. A few hours later, after the bear had left and you calmed down, you were approached again by a very large man. While you were intimidated, he did not seem to want to hurt you. In fact, upon hearing your story, he offered you a place to stay.

       You grew to enjoy working alongside Beorn. You cooked together,  took care of the livestock and ponies together, and kept bees together. But your favorite thing to do with Beorn was work in his garden. For such a large being, Beorn was as gentle as could be with his garden. He talked to his plants, nurturing them the way a parent would a child. He taught you about the various things he grew and how to care for them. 

Time passed as you stayed with Beorn while you were trying to figure out where to go and what to do. Some days, you felt like a burden to the skin-changer. Still he never said anything like that to you nor did it seem that he was tiring of your company. You often caught him staring at you in what appeared to be deep contemplation. Like you were a riddle he couldn’t solve. One day, you would figure out exactly what Beorn was thinking.

Beorn had given you your own patch of land to grow flowers alongside his crops. You were tending to those flowers one morning when you felt Beorn’s eyes on you again. “Is something wrong?” you asked him, straightening up. He cleared his throat as if he were embarrassed to be caught staring. He paused for a moment, contemplating his words carefully. Given his usual brash nature, you were happy to wait for him to get his thoughts together.

“I have discovered something. Something unusual,” he replied after a bit. You cocked your head to the side as you gazed up at his face. “Oh?” He nodded and brought a hand up to his chin, the manacle on his wrist jingling slightly. “The thought of you…leaving. It does not please me. At all. I find myself getting rather angry at it. I had heard of feelings like this, but did not believe in them.” 

His confession threw you for what felt like hours. His intense gaze never left your face as he watched you take in what he’d said. “I…are you saying that you care for me?” You could have smacked yourself at how unsure you sounded. He nodded once but then his brows furrowed. “Perhaps care is not a strong enough word. I believe what I feel for you is deeper. Much deeper than simply caring.”

You felt your entire body heat up. Was he really saying what you thought he was? “Beorn? Are you telling me that you might love me?” He thought for a moment before confirming your words. “Yes. My love for you has grown, I believe, much like the blooms you have tended to. A tiny idea, a seed, of what life could be with you by my side for the rest of our days began this and now, like your flowers, I feel something blossoming and maturing in my heart that I have long thought was incapable of such things. And now I need to know if the same can be said of you. Do you-Could you…love me?

A smile crept its way to your lips before you could stop it. Beorn simply stared at you until you realized that you hadn’t answered him after nearly a minute. “Beorn, of course I could love you. It is possible that I already do and have been denying myself the joy of it, thinking you would eventually tire of me and I would have to leave.” You removed your gardening gloves and slowly reached over to take one of Beorn’s hands in yours.

“We could live a thousand ages and I would not tire of you,” he admitted slowly. You beamed up at him as tears of joy pricked at your eyes. Beorn smiled down at you but suddenly stiffened. Your brows furrowed as he straightened up and sniffed the air. “What is it?” you asked in confusion. 

“Orcs. Get inside, bar the door, and don’t come out until I return.” You knew better than to argue. Instead, you merely agreed and Beorn turned to leave. Before he got too far, you called out to him. He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I love you,” you confessed. He smiled again. “And I you. Now go. I shall return.” You quickly ran inside, the door barely closed behind you when you heard the growling of a great bear. “Be safe,” you whispered. You had no idea that, very soon, a company of dwarves, a wizard, and hobbit would change your lives completely.

(a/n: I hope I did Beorn justice. I have one more request for him on my list)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @motleymoose @stories-by-shanna-p @dark-angel-is-back @esoltis280 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Tolkien Tags: @jotink78 @thealbersclan @evyiione @legolaslovely @justcallmecinammon @wingedlandwasteland

[faerybones3]

Which Witch

Fìli x witch!reader

tags: flirty banter, witchcraft, stab wound, palm reading, fili is a flirt, the dwarves get very drunk lol, thorin is an asshole

word count: 2.8k

previous part | series masterlist

Chapter Two

The man facing you was beautiful and ethereal. You had never seen beauty like his before. You could have looked upon his face forever. 

You called to him, “Who are you?”

He did not answer. He turned from you and began walking away. 

“Wait, stop!”

You tried to follow him, but you felt as though you were walking underwater. He was getting further and further away, but you knew you must reach him. You ran with all your might, trying desperately to catch up to him. He finally stopped, and when you reached him, you grabbed his arm, turning him around to face you again. You needed to look upon his face, just once more. 

But as he turned, you saw that his face was gone. In its place was a gaping, black void. 

You screamed and released him. Was that laughter? He was laughing at you. The noise seeped into you and you could feel it under your skin, crawling like thousands of spiders. You continued to scream as the laughter grew louder, threatening to consume you. 

You woke with a jolt, head pounding. Your surroundings were unfamiliar at first. You saw a straw floor, and great wooden beams. It appeared that you were in a building meant for a giant, making you feel very small. 

It wasn’t until you saw the huge honey bees and goats on the other side of the great room you were in that you realized where you were. You were in Beorn’s great hall. You had met him many times, and he was a good friend to your people. 

You stood on wobbly feet and wondered to yourself how long you had been asleep. The events leading up to you passing out were a blur of swords and goblins. Your throat burned and it was tremendously hard to swallow; you knew you must have horrible bruising there. Raising your shirt, you saw that the wound in your abdomen had been cleaned and well-bandaged, though you noticed that it would need new wrappings soon. You quickly gave the rest of your body a once-over, noting the various scratches and bruises. 

Suddenly, you heard laughter coming from the end of the hall, and your head shot up, remembering your dream. The dwarves were all sitting at a large table, talking boisterously amongst each other. When they noticed you slowly walking over, they all stopped speaking and looked at you. One of them, with two large twisting braids in his gray beard and holding an ear trumpet, rose and walked to you. 

“Right, I’ll be needin’ to see to that then,” he said, gesturing to your soiled bandages. 

You let him lead you to a bench next to their table. He introduced himself to you as ‘Òin’ and you gave him your name as well. You winced as you raised your shirt and he started to re-do your wound dressings, but you were grateful that he had a gentle hand. As he was working, the rest of the dwarves went around and gave you their names. You learned that the blond dwarf you had stolen the sword from was named Fìli. The last of them, and the leader if you had to guess, did not introduce himself. He instead walked to you and eyed you skeptically. You eyed him right back, holding your ground. When he spoke, he was stern. 

“How did you come to be in the company of goblins?”

“I was traveling solo through the Misty Mountains when I was ambushed and taken. They kept me prisoner for three days.” Your voice came out as a rasp. 

“Why did you help us?”

“Would you rather I hadn’t?” You asked with a wry smile. Some of the dwarves exchanged looks, but the leader simply narrowed his eyes. 

You sighed. “It’s just what any decent person would do.”

The leader seemed unfazed, “What are you, some elf half-breed?”

You raised an eyebrow. “If you would use your eyes, master dwarf, you would see that I am no elf.”

“A witch, then?”

Òin had completed his work by this point, and you gently pushed his hands away and thanked him. All of them watched you with expectant looks, some curious and a bit wary. You had heard of the skepticism of Dwarves, and you knew that it most likely extended to the magical arts. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded. A few of them broke into whispers. 

“I’m not going to try and curse any of you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” you said quickly. They didn’t seem convinced, especially the leader. 

“I would not expect any of you to understand, closed minded as all you lot are,” you said. You were getting annoyed at their prodding questions and the pain in your side was making you irritable. 

They became quite offended at this. 

“We saved you, did we not?” said the one who had introduced himself as Kìli. 

You locked eyes with him. You saw an endearing kind of innocence that comes with youth in his eyes. A certain desperation to prove himself. The dwarf sitting beside him, Fìli, had to be his brother, not just because their names were so similar, but they had the same tilted mouth, the same mischievous glint in their eyes. Fìli was definitely older, more hardened and learned in the ways of the world, his beard longer and braided, unlike his younger brothers. With the slightest flush, you realized that this was the face you had reached for in your semi-conscious state before you had passed out. His face had been haloed with the rising light of the sun and he had looked almost angelic, like one of the Valar sent from Valinor itself to heal you. 

“I do believe Gandalf is to thank for our saving,” piped up the halfling, Bilbo, breaking you from your thoughts. You had never met a hobbit before. He had a kind nature about him and you immediately liked him the best out of the bunch. It also helped that he seemed to think your criticism of the dwarves was quite amusing. 

“Speaking of,” you said, standing from the bench. “Where is he?”

“The garden I believe,” said Bilbo. 

You made your way over to the large oak front doors of Beorn’s hall, the dwarves watching you silently, their expressions poorly concealing their obvious mistrust. 

Wrenching open the doors, you breathed in the fresh outside air and turned back around to face the dwarves, who were still watching you intently. 

“Thank you,” you said to them, before turning and marching out to look for the wizard, not bothering to shut the doors behind you.

—

The warm summer sun had just set over the tops of the mountains, leaving the sky an inky blue color and making you shiver a bit in your spot on the ground, where you sat comfortably watching the dwarves dance and sing around the fire, in their usual merry mood. The hot mug of tea in your hands did much, however, to fend off the chill of the evening as it was three times the size of your head and gave off the same amount of warmth that a small campfire might. 

It had been four days since your arrival at Beorn’s hall, and you were surprised at how much the dwarves had warmed up to you in so little time. Once they knew for sure that you were not going to put a spell on them or kill them in their sleep, they decided it was alright to look you in the eyes and once they learned that Gandalf had decided to more or less trust you, they became downright friendly and had all but welcomed you into their little troop. Even the leader, whose name you found out to be Thorin, had stopped glowering whenever you came near him. 

A baby goat had made its way over to where you were sitting, looking up at you with big curious eyes, his ears covered in fuzz. You couldn’t help the smile that touched your lips. Reaching out your hand, you patted him gently between his eyes. Looking quite timid, he seemed to come to a decision about something, and then plopped down right next to you, laying his head on one of your legs that was stretched out on the straw-covered floor. Your smile grew as you looked down at him, this innocent little creature. 

You heard a chuckle nearby and whipped your head around at the sound. 

“Hello, there,” said Fìli, coming to sit with you, a large mug in his hand as well, but you knew that his was filled with something much stronger than tea.

You nodded at him politely. He shifted to sit with his legs crossed and one of his knees brushed your thigh, but he didn’t seem to notice. You both sat in silence, watching the other dwarves and listening to their drunken singing and shouting. Dwalin was sitting at the massive table in the middle of the hall, arm wrestling Glóin who had his face scrunched up in concentration. Thorin and Balin stood a little to the side of the group, laughing loudly at all the others as they danced around Bofur, who was currently very drunk and singing at the top of his lungs in what was probably meant to be the common tongue but sounded more like animated babbling. 

You laughed heartily at the scene and turned to Fìli. “Are they always like this?”

“You’ve no idea,” he replied with a smile. 

Ori had just pulled Nori to him and was attempting a two-man jig, which made you and Fíli laugh even harder. 

Several minutes went by like that, with you and him laughing together at the ridiculous things the dwarves were currently doing. You found that you didn’t need to fill the space between you with pointless chatter, as he had an easy air about him and the small silences between your laughter were not awkward. 

But it was then that you remembered something. 

“I’m sorry for taking your sword,” you said, a bit of your composure lost. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s alright,” he said. “Just don’t do it again.”

You turned your head to look at him, but he had a smirk on his face. Relieved, you smiled back. 

He continued, “What did you do to it? Those words you were speaking?”

“It was just a spell,” you said, shaking your head a little. “For my aim to be true and for protection.”

He gave you a skeptical look and raised one thick eyebrow. 

“Cynical, are you? I thought you were traveling with a wizard.”

“Yes, well . . . “ he trailed off. 

“Well, what?”

He met your eyes reluctantly, looking you up and down in the process. “You just don’t really look the part, is all.”

You scoffed. “Just because I’m not old and wizened doesn’t mean I can’t possess magic.”

He nodded, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he turned back to watch the dwarves again, but you could tell he didn’t really believe you. You reached your hand out to him. He looked at it, confused for a moment, before you made a beckoning motion with your fingers. He still didn’t understand.

“Hand,” you said simply.

Reluctantly, he put his rough and calloused hand into yours. You took a moment to gently trace the lines in his palm with your fingertips, almost caressing his hand. 

“You’re the eldest of two.”

“Anyone here could have told you that,” he said matter-of-factly. 

You shot him a look and he shut his mouth with a smirk. 

“You worry for your mother at home. You have since your father died. You also worry for your brother. He’s reckless and easily gets into trouble.”

You paused to look up at him, and this time, you had his full attention.

“You’re on a journey to a home that you have never seen before,” you said, tracing the line that wrapped around his thumb. “It looks like you’ve had quite the adventure already, more than you bargained for. And this one here-” your fingertips brushed his hand right below the base of his fingers. “-is called your heart line. See how yours is kind of coarse and splits there? That means you are passionate and very intuitive when it comes to those you love. You also always put others before yourself, but you suppress a lot of your true feelings, especially when it comes to romantic relationships.”

His face had flushed pink when you looked up at him again. You looked back down and continued. 

“You have much anxiety; more than you let on. On the surface, you are very well put together, you were raised to be of course, but much like a river you are raging underneath it all. You put on a facade to appease everyone around you, but you are constantly sick with worry. You are always trying to prove yourself, most of all to your uncle, because one day, everything will fall upon your shoulders and no one can know that you are scared to death.”

You looked up at him. He was watching you with rapt attention, a look of complete shock on his face. You cleared your throat. 

“Should I-”

He didn’t answer; it didn’t look like he could quite form words at the moment, but he shook his head. You nodded and dropped his hand. 

“Sorry,” you said awkwardly, your hands fisted in your lap. 

He seemed to have found his voice again. “No, no, it’s alright. Just a bit jarring, that’s all.”

“Well, at least now you know that I’m not a fraud,” you said with a smirk, attempting to put him at ease a bit. He smiled and nodded his head in agreement. 

After several minutes of slightly uneasy silence, he spoke again. 

“So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, you know all my secrets now. Only fair if I know some of yours,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled at him as you said, “There’s not much to tell. My life is not half as interesting as yours. I grew up just south of here actually, in a village bordering the Anduin. Mother and father were merchants who traded frequently with the elves of Mirkwood.”

“How did you become a witch then? The elves?”

“I actually don’t know. Just woke up one day with everything in my head.”

He definitely did not believe this, but thankfully didn’t press the matter. Instead, he asked, “What’s your family like?”

“They’re wonderful. My younger sister and I used to beg our parents to let us go with them on their travels to the Woodland Realm. We were never allowed to, though, until we were older. I know that dwarves don’t really get on with the elves, but my people were quite close with them.”

You paused for a moment, and your voice became heavy with emotion, almost regretful, at your next words. “My family was everything to me.”

“Was?” asked Fìli.

“I left my village almost three years ago.”

Again, he didn’t press you for more answers, sensing that it was not something you were keen on talking about. Instead, he stretched his arms and sprawled out on the floor, leaning his weight on his elbows. 

“You’re right,” he said playfully. “My life is much more interesting than yours.”

You laughed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. 

The baby goat, who had been snoozing on your leg all this time, woke up just then and gave you a contemptuous look, as if you had woken him up on purpose. He got up and sauntered off, probably to go and find his mother. 

“So tell me about this adventure you’re on,” you said, turning to him again, yawning, and then cupping your chin in your hand. 

Fìli laughed. “Ah, well, where do I start?”

He then launched into the tale of his and the dwarves’ journey, talking animatedly and sparing no details. You heard about their arrival in Bag End and the recruitment of their fourteenth member, Bilbo. He told you all about how they had been captured by trolls and would have been eaten if not for Bilbo’s quick thinking. Then they had found themselves in Rivendell at the behest of Gandalf and stayed there for two weeks. After their stay in Rivendell, they were traveling through the Misty Mountains when they had been captured by goblins, and you knew the rest. Towards the end of his story, you had grown very sleepy, and by the time he was finished, you had laid down and were half asleep, trying desperately to stay awake. When he had finished and noticed that you were falling asleep, he chuckled to himself. You heard him say ‘goodnight’ to you and you just barely felt a blanket being pulled over your body before you fell into a peaceful sleep.

[shirefantasies]

Hi, I hope you doing good. Can i have a matchup for LOTR and/or HOBBIT please 💐 Firstly English not my first language. I'm autistic. I'm genderfluid, bisexual with male preference.I have long black wavy hair. I have thick black eyebrows, brown eyes. I always have rosy chubby cheeks. I have braces. My body is curvy with very big chest and little tummy. My eyebrows are constantly furrowed. Also I'm 172 cm. I'm Libra. If you interested, my mbti Infp and my enneagram 5w4. I always have poker face. I'm very outspoken, stubborn. I always doing my job alone. I find it difficult to express my feelings and prefer to isolate myself. My best feature is that I know a little about everything, I always surprise people. Those who know me for the first time describe me as cold, scary, quiet, unapproachable and distant, mature. But at heart I'm compassionate and helpful, works for the good of people. And they often think I can't speak and I'm deaf but I'm not. People say I'm extremely chaste. When I enter an environment, I listen to what people say and get to know them well, I decide if there is anyone worth talking to. I'm only close to two or three people. They describe me as cold, soft inside, calm, sarcastic, resourceful and knowledgeable. I am usually a rebellious person. I am the person who stands against injustices and lies in an environment. They say I make clever jokes and I'm the mom-friend. Actually i like to help everyone and it works automatically without me noticing. I will help anyone by giving my all. And i hate phsyical touch. My love language is words of affirmation. If I talk about myself, I've always been on my own. I have family problems, I was never close with my father. Even though we are side by side with my mother, we are distant. I'm just my own mom and dad. That's why I've always focused on academic achievement for salvation. And I think I'm very good at it. My hobbies are drawing, sewing, writing and researching, especially about mythology, cultures, politics, history, fashion. I like to visit second-hand and antique markets. I'm someone who doesn't like to waste money but cares about clothing. I always wear my headphones and listen to music, i listen every genre. I like silence, soft colors, being alone, flowers (especially honeysuckle), spring and breeze. I don't like crowds, noise, children, loud talkers and shiny things. I always wear colorful clothes with floral prints or all black. I also wear interesting earrings and different printed socks. And finally, I don't really have an ideal type. I love every person. I like the fact that there are different people. And I don't believe in love. If I'm going to be with someone, I'll be happy if we have respect, compassion, and loyalty to each other. It is enough that we are in harmony with each other. If I am with someone, I am clearly their mother.

You sure can have a matchup 💐 and your man is…

Beorn! 🐻

You are tired of the world. Tired of all its hustle and bustle and rules and unnecessary noise. It isn’t like you have family back in any of those towns and cities anyway. Nature is your true domain, the place where you can be yourself and feel harmony, stroll through fields of fragrant blooms without prying eyes…or so you think. A small patrol of orcs catches you off guard, brandishing their scimitars and chasing you deeper into the woods you had sought solace in. Your legs pump as fast as they can, but it is hardly enough. Just as you think your burning, heaving chest will give out and fail you, though, a great bear bursts from the woods, making short work of your would-be tormentors. Before your eyes the beast shrinks down, becoming a great man, and bids you simply “Come with me.”

Had you more energy you’d have tried to fight, but as it is you practically shake from the adrenaline and still feel a burning in your lungs; nodding, you just follow him down a trail and across a field to his cottage. Distant, in bloom, populated only by livestock and bumblebees. You like it. Tentatively you smile up at the towering, bearded man. “You have no home, do you?” He asks. You shake your head and he sighs. “That is what I thought.” It seemed he isn’t much one for company, either. No complaints leave his lips, though, as you set down your small pack of possessions, or as you scan the interior of his home, taking in every nook and cranny. “We eat in an hour,” the man simply says.

Beorn. You learn his name over the meal, confirm your suspicions that he, too, has his reasons for isolating from society. Tell him how beautiful his home really is as he speaks of protecting nature’s gifts and feeling no remorse for those who sully them. Respect flows through you at his words, keeps you nodding as he speaks.

When you emerge the next morning, this time clean and in a long dress of floral print, you notice the way Beorn’s bushy eyebrows rise, his expression softens. You practically challenge him as you go outside, exploring and gently tending the livestock. He says nothing, though, save following you and giving you the occasional nod at your kind treatment of his animals. “Keep my house safe,” he tells you at the end of the day, “and I keep the woods safe.” In his way, you realize, he is asking you to stay, and you agree. He makes a nicer meal this night.

Your motions in the kitchen are something of a dance, Beorn and you all but intuitively moving around the other, working in perfect rhythm. His people have many old songs to learn, and you vow to sing them as best you can as you work. Beorn cleans and bends some old metal scraps, strings a pair of acorns into new earrings for you. Payment for repairing all his blankets, he says, but you catch the faintest of smiles on his lips. Spring explodes across the meadows in great flowery bursts. Soon in your pastures a new calf is born; in a wave of excitement and celebration, Beorn lifts you up by the waist and spins you around. Both of your serious expressions bursting into true joy, utter freedom of care and concern, for the first time in too long. Some may call your life simple, your relationship confusing, but you know what you are to each other deep in your hearts of hearts and you want for nothing that your woods, your little cottage, and each other cannot provide.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[possibly-in-wonderland]

some beorn x reader ideas im tossing in the ring

beorn patrolling and hears a scream only to find orcs surrounding a pregnant witch (6 months along), and he ends up saving her and they end up falling for each other, he helps to deliver the baby.

beorn gets caught in a modified bear trap the orcs set out, a young woman finds him and aids the oddly massive bear, not knowing that that is, in fact, the "fabled" skin-changer himself. the entire time she's helping him she's just comforting and cooing at the bear. she leads him to a river near his house and cleans his wrist and leaves for a moment to get her bag, only to turn around and find a behemoth of a man sitting there staring at her, his wrist is kinda bloody.

beorn x chaotic!lapicentaur!reader (bunny centaur) (im well aware lapicentaurs aren't chaotic, but have you ever owned a rabbit? no? then stfu)...i can only imagine this relationship being grumpy x sunshine

[allexthakatt]

Here's the updated Masterlist!!!!

If you'd like to see who I write for, and what I'll write, please look at this post!

Dance of Death ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Do I Wanna Know? ❤️‍🔥

That This Feeling Flows Both Ways ❤️‍🩹 pt 2 to Do I Wanna Know

Panty Raid 🥵

Not Like The Others ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Save Your Tears ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Thunderstorms Are Scary, But You Make It Better 🥵❤️‍🩹

Mixed Signals ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Liars Get Punished 🥵❤️‍🔥

Never Gonna Leave You ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Lend a Shoulder ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

THERE WILL BE MORE CHARACTERS COMING SOOONNN

[shiinata-library]

I love you wrote two different Bilbo!

Can I make a hobbit request? Could you do Thorin, Bilbo and Elrond (maybe Beorn if you can write him?) with an S/O who talks in their sleep? Maybe they say something funny or something. Idk its up to you :) Tysm! Have a good day ❤️

⋆ Masterlist

⋆ This is only Headcanon.

⋆ Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x gn!reader, Bilbo Baggins x gn!reader, Elrond x gn!reader, Beorn x gn!reader.

⋆ TW: None I think, it's just fluff.

⋆ Note: fun fact about me: when I was a kid I had a massive crush on Legolas, but growing up I found myself being more of a Thorin person. Idk he's just so special.

Thorin: I think he would secretly love it and find it really cute and funny. But the grumpy dwarf he is will just tell his s/o that he had trouble sleeping because of that (even if he notes what they're saying every night). He might tell them it's cute sometimes if he's feeling soft.

Bilbo: The "Before journey Bilbo" would need his good night's sleep to be up and ready to... do nothing, just be a cute lil hobbit. But anyway he'd be quite annoyed at first. But I think he'd realize that his s/o talking in their sleep just comes with the package of loving them, so he'd become softer and just let you be.

The "After journey Bilbo" would not care AT ALL. I mean, he slept for over a year next to thirteen tractor-like snoring dwarves. So a s/o that just talks in their sleep is one of the cutest things he's ever seen. He'd be so cute and understanding about it, even sometimes telling you what you said if you're okay with it.

Elrond: Even if Elrond seems to be someone who's quite serious and uneasy to amuse, he'd find it really funny to listen to his partner talking while they're sleeping. I think he'd tell them as soon as they wake up (in a sassy voice ofc), along with the exact words that they said. If it makes them uncomfortable he'd reassure them and tell them it's okay, that he thinks it's cute.

Beorn: This man is literally a giant teddy bear, and even if he may seem serious and impressive, he's really soft. I think he would not care at all like- I'm not even sure he'd tell them. I feel like he's a heavy sleeper so I think he might take a lot of time to realize that his s/o actually talks in their sleep. And honestly, he might talk in his sleep too lol.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine getting ready to leave Beorns's home and travel to Mirkwood.

Thorin: "Gandalf, time is wasting."

Beorn: "There is more. Not long past, word spread.. the dead had been seen walking near the High Fells of Rhudaur."

Y/N frowns and meets Beorn's concerned eyes.

Y/N: "The dead you say?"

Beorn: "Is it true? Are there tombs in those mountains?"

Y/N and Gandalf look at each other and think back.

*A memory*

Galadriel: "When Angmar fell... the Men of the North took his body, and all that he had possessed and sealed it within the High Fells of Rhudaur.

Deep within the rock, they buried him.

In a tomb so dark.. it would never come to light."

Gandalf: "Yes. Yes there are tombs up there."

Beorn: "I remember a time when a great evil ruled these lands. One powerful enough... to raise the dead.

Y/N side eyes Gandalf.

Beorn: "If that enemy has returned to Middle Earth... I would have you tell me."

Gandalf: "Saruman the White, says it's not possible."

Y/N: *spits out* "Blast that old man."

Gandalf: *pats Y/N's shoulder reassuring her.* "The enemy was destroyed and will never return."

Beorn: "And what does Gandalf the Grey say?"

*Gandalf shakes his head, unsure.*

Y/N: *Steps forward.* "We must go."

Beorn: "Yes. Go now, while you have the light."

*A howl rings out through the trees*

Beorn: "Your hunters are not far behind."

Y/N: "Thank you Beorn."

Beorn: "No you can't keep one of my puppies."

Y/N: "Fine."

[dragonslayer-5fanfiction]

PLEASE PLEASE be aware there is talks of torture and graphic depictions of death. But it is overall so beautifully written. Dead dove do not eat. Tw: torture, graphic depictions of death

The Walkers pt 1

Kind of the prequel for “The Bear’s Lady”

word count: 3443

“Ullrae!” The scream is the last time you hear your mother’s voice, your name the last thing to pass her lips before the Orc’s jagged blade steals her life. The roar of anger as your father throws himself into the fight, shifting into a massive lynx in mid-air and slashing any and all throats he can, before he too is cut down. You can do nothing but watch, bound by some sort of evil that stops you from shifting, stops you from helping, keeps you still and only able to watch in horror as your family is slaughtered.

Keep reading

[blackloveangel13]

Am i creativ enough to think about a fanfic? Probably.

Can i write? Oh God No

Do i try nontheless?! Maybe

Am I writing in english thats not my mothertoung? Absolutly