#is it hot in here?

[lustylita]

"Flirting with what's mine? You must really want to die."

WARNING! Adult content ahead!

You've been warned!

EVERYONE ON DISCORD WANTED ME TO POST IT HERE HAHA

[nerdy-novelist017]

Hii! I absolutely adore your benny and bunny series and I got this idea while reading one of your oneshots about them :))

Could you possibly write a oneshot about bunny sitting on bennys lap, and benny just tease bunny starts bouncing his thigh and making her squirm and such - maybe have it possibly lead to something a little more steamy? Also could it possibly be in a more public setting, like maybe at a bonfire with the club or at a meeting? I love you so much thank you for being such an amazing writer <33

Tease (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

Oh this??? Ummm I love it! Also, I definitely wrote thiis while I was ovulating so it's purely self-indulgent lol 😅 I'm a little nervous to post this so please tell me if you've enjoyed it! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.6k+

This is pretty NSFW so please don't read if you are underage!

The bonfire crackled softly, orange flames dancing in the cold night air as the club members lounged around, drinks in hand, the atmosphere relaxed and full of quiet conversation. The delicious smell of burning wood and s'mores filled the evening air enveloped you as you sat on the edge of one of the large logs that circled the fire, the warmth of the flames chasing away the chill of the night. Benny sat beside you, a cigarette dangled from between his lips, his arm casually draped around your shoulder, his presence as solid and sure as always. 

The firelight cast long shadows, flickering over the faces of the members gathered, but your attention wasn’t on the conversations or the fire. It was on Benny, and the way his thumb absentmindedly brushed against the bare skin of your shoulder, leaving little sparks of warmth in their wake. You felt hyper-aware of his every touch, every soft movement, and it made your breath catch in your throat every time. 

It had been a quiet and uneventful night – at least for everyone else. But sitting next to Benny, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar tension simmering just beneath the surface. 

Then, as if sensing your thoughts, Benny leaned in closer, his voice low and rough against your ear. “C’mere, Bunny. Come sit with me.”

Before you could respond, he gently tugged you off the log and pulled you into his lap, his strong hands guiding you with ease. Your heart fluttered at the sudden closeness, your body instinctively settling against him, your back pressed against his chest. His warmth seeped into you, his hands resting on your hips, holding you just close enough to keep you still but teasingly loose, like he was testing how far he could take this. 

“You good?” he murmured, his breath mixed with the smoke from his cigarette warm against your ear, his voice holding a hint of something that sent a jolt of warmth in your belly. 

Trying to ignore the quickening beat of your heart, you nodded. “Y–yeah, fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not really. Sitting on Benny’s lap, surrounded by the familiar faces, the firelight casting shadows across his features, you felt like your entire body was suddenly buzzing with awareness. His hands shifted slightly, resting more firmly on your hips, and the feeling of his palms against you was almost too much.

Benny, however, seemed completely unbothered – almost playful, in fact. He shifted the cigarette between his lips as he said, “You sure? You seem a little . . . tense.”

You swallowed hard, fingers curling in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than the warmth of Benny’s hands and the closeness of his body. Your voice wavered slightly as you repeated, “I’m fine.”

“Mh-hm,” he hummed, and without warning, his grip on your hips tightened, just enough to pull you down a little harder on his lap. His thigh shifted beneath you, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft gasp, your body reacting to the sudden movement. 

Benny chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “That’s what I thought.”

Your face flushed with heat, but it wasn’t just from the fire. The way his thigh pressed just beneath you, the subtle movement, was enough to make you squirm and you bit your lip, trying to stay composed, especially with the others just sitting a few feet aware, completely unaware of what was happening.

Benny, of course, wasn’t done. He shifted his thigh again, just a little, just enough to make you feel the pressure in all the right places, and you couldn’t help the small, involuntary movement of your hips. The sensation was subtle, but it shot straight through you, sending your heart racing. The tension built as you felt every slight shift, every playful nudge of Benny’s thigh beneath you.

“Benny . . .” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

“What’s wrong Little Bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing as he tossed his cigarette to the grass below, successfully finding something more entertaining. “You seem a little . . . squirmy.”

You bit your lip harder, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape. Benny’s thigh bounced just slightly beneath you, a slow, deliberate movement that made it impossible for you to remain still.  The teasing pressure was driving you crazy, and every time you shifted, it only made things worse. 

“If you keep moving like that, I might start thinkin’ you’re enjoying yourself,” he muttered, his voice full of that playful edge you had come to know all too well, his grip on her hips shifting. Your breath hitched, and your face grew impossibly hot as you pressed your thighs together, trying to steady yourself. But Benny shifted his thigh just so that you couldn’t find relief that way. 

It was torture – and yet, you didn’t want it to stop. But you were in public so he needed to stop.

“Benny, please,” you whispered, your voice holding a mix of warning, desperation and something else you didn’t quite want to admit. 

“Please what?” he asked, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Tell me what you want, Bunny.”

Just as you were about to whisper something – anything – another voice spoke up, cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

“Bunny, you hear me?”

You snapped your head up, your eyes widening in panic as you realized someone had been talking to you. You blinked, trying to focus on the person in front of you, but it was all you could do not to feel the heat of Benny’s body pressing up against you in a way that made it impossible to think straight. 

“Huh?” you stammered, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended. 

Kathy, sitting a few feet away across the fire, raised an eyebrow at you. “I asked if you’re coming to the run tomorrow.”

Your face flushed even deeper with embarrassment, warmth spreading to your ears as you realized you had been caught up in what Benny was doing. You shifted slightly on his lap, trying to compose yourself. But Benny, ever the tease, took the opportunity to press his thigh even harder against you, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. Your breath hitched, and you bit down on your lip to keep from making a sound.

“I . . . I’m sorry, what?” you managed to say with a shaky breath. You tried to focus on Kathy, but it was almost impossible with the way Benny was subtly bouncing his leg beneath you, his hands holding your hips tightly in place as if daring you to try to ignore him. 

Kathy squinted, clearly noticing something was off. “You okay, Bunny? You look kinda . . . flustered.”

Flustered didn’t begin to cover it.

You tried to brush off the abashment gripped you nearly as tight as Benny did . “Y–yeah, I’m fine. Just a little . . . tired, I guess.”

Kathy’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t press further. “Right. Well, I was askin’ if you’re comin’ to the run tomorrow?”

Before you could respond, Benny, still sitting silently behind you, gave a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, his thigh pressing into you in a way that made you gasp softly. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, mortified that the sound had slipped out. 

Kathy raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing the sudden shift. “You sure you’re okay?”

You could barely breathe, your body squirming involuntarily as Benny continued his slow, sinful movements below. He hadn’t said a word, but you could feel the grin against your neck – the wicked, satisfied grin of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. 

You cleared your throat as you stammered, “Y–yeah I’m okay,” you cleared your throat as you stammered, “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Kathy gave you a long look, clearly skeptical, but before she could say anything else, one of the other members called her attention and you were left alone, still perched on Benny’s lap, still caught up in his merciless teasing. 

As soon as Kathy’s attention shifted away, Benny leaned in close, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, “Careful, Bunny. You’re making it hard to behave.”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you hissed softly, a spike of irritation hitting you as you tried to pull away to find relief, but his hands tightened on your hips, holding you in place. 

“Keep squirmin’ like that, and you’re gonna give us away, kid,” he said playfully, but you could hear the heat in his voice.”You’re so tense. You need to relax.”

Relax? That was impossible. Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure someone would hear it. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, your skin tingling under Benny’s teasing hands. His grip was tight, but his thumb lazily stroked your hip as if he wasn’t torturing you, as if he didn’t have you barely able to breathe from the tension. Every subtle shift of his thigh, every gentle grind of his hip sent jolts of desire through your entire being. 

“Benny,” your voice shook as you pressed your palm down hard against his other thigh, trying to get his attention. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed. “You need to stop.”

“Stop?” he repeated innocently, but his hands slid down from your hips to your thighs, his fingers brushing just beneath the hem of your skirt. The touch sent a surge through you and you jumped. “Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop.”

And you didn’t. Not in the sense of the word. You wanted him – needed him, more than your lungs need air to breathe. But you couldn’t, not here, not in front of everyone. Your mind swirled with incoherent thoughts of trying to tell him to stop and trying to tell him to keep going. 

“Just tell me, Bunny,” he breathed, his hands dragging their way back up to your hips. “Just tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“Benny,” you hissed, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your struggle. “That’s not an answer.”

Just as you were teetering on the edge, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Skipco, ever the silent observer, was glancing over at the two of you, a curious look on his face. Your heart raced, panic flooding you as you realized how close you were to being caught. If Skipco saw the way you were squirming in Benny’s lap, if he put the pieces together . . . 

Your breath hitched and you froze, trying to stay perfectly slow. But Benny, ever aware of you, must have noticed the shift in your body language. Just as you were about to lose it completely, just as the heat between them reached a dangerous peak, Benny’s hands on your hips loosened. 

Without warning, he stopped. 

The sudden lack of movement left you breathless, heart still racing and body still buzzing with pent up tension. You blinked, trying to process what just happened, but before you could even react, Benny leaned back, his expression calm and composed as ever. He acted like nothing had happened at all. 

Your breath was shallow, your body still on edge, cheeks flushed from the heat and embarrassment. You shifted slightly in his lap, attempting to catch your breath, but the sudden absence of his teasing left you feeling both relieved and strangely frustrated. You had been close – too close – and now the tension he had so expertly built up inside you had nowhere to go. 

Benny, however, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He shifted beneath you, adjusting you slightly on his lap, and then – just like that – he casually jumped back into the conversation, as if nothing had happened. He joined in on the jokes being tossed around the fire, his voice calm and smooth as ever, not even a hint of the wicked teasing he’d been torturing you with just moments ago. 

You sat there, still perched on his lap, body still tingling from his touch, and you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. He had stopped. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, just when you had been so close to losing your control, he had stopped. And now he was acting like it was nothing. 

You wanted to be relieved – relieved that they hadn’t been caught, that Benny had goven in before anyone noticed. But at the same time, you couldn’t shake the frustration that burned inside you, the way he had left you wanted more, so close yet so far from the release that you so desperately craved. 

His hand rested casually on your thigh now, no longer teasing or pushing, just a gentle, familiar touch. He smiled at something one of the others said, completely composed while you sat there still buzzing with need.

You glanced up at him, your eyes narrowing slightly in vexation. He caught your look, and just for a moment, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small, knowing grin. That wicked, teasing grin that told you he knew exactly what he had done. Your jaw clenched as you realized he had left you like this on purpose – teasing you, pushing you, and then pulling back just when you thought you were going to break.

“You okay, Bunny?” he asked casually, his voice low but full of that damned teasing edge.

You practically glared at him, nodding as you didn’t trust your voice. You slid off his lap, your movements sharp and purposeful as you sat on the log beside him, making a point to leave a prominent space between the two of you. The cool night air was a welcome replacement to the warmth of his body. The sudden distance was a silent protest. You weren’t going to let him get away with mercilessly teasing you and then pretending nothing had happened. 

His eyes flickered to you the moment you moved, and you could feel his gaze on you, but he didn’t say anything right away. You crossed your arms, leaning slightly away from him, pointedly avoiding his gaze as you focused on the fire instead. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Benny smirking, his eyes dark with amusement as he watched, but he didn’t move to break the distance you created. The rest of the night felt like it dragged on forever. Every little movement, every casual comment from Benny only heightened your annoyance. He didn’t push it further, didn’t tease you overtly in front of the others, but every now and then, his hand would brush against yours or he would lean in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and it would send your pulse fluttering all over again. 

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your body still humming with need, and the subtle movement didn’t go unnoticed. Benny glanced your way, his eyes flickering over you for a brief moment before he returned to his conversation. But that one look told you everything. He knew you were flustered. He knew you were still thinking about what happened. And the fact that he wasn’t saying a word, wasn’t doing anything more to help you made it so much worse. 

After what felt like an eternity, the conversation began to die down, and some of the other members started to head toward their bikes, getting ready to leave. You stood up quickly, eager for the excuse to move, to shake off the tension still clinging to you. You glanced down at Benny who was still lounging in his chair, watching you with that same infuriating smirk.

“Ready to go?” you asked with a quick, barely controlled voice. 

Benny raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he slowly moved to stand, stretching as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour driving you absolutely mad. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

You bit your lip, swallowing the building urge to snap at him. You turned on your heel, walking toward the truck (Benny’s bike had been in Cal’s workshop after it started giving him problems.) Your pace was quick as you tried to put some distance between him, but you could feel him behind you, following at his own leisurely pace, taking his sweet time.

When you reached the passenger door to the pickup truck, you crossed your arms over your chest and turned to face him as he caught up. And with enough distance put between the others still mingling around the fire, your anger finally bubbled to the surface. 

“Do you always have to do that?” you blurted out, your voice sharper than you intended.

He tilted his head, his smirk never fading. “Do what?” 

“You know exactly what I mean, Benny Cross,” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “You did it on purpose. You pushed me just far enough, then stopped.”

His grin grew at your use of his full name, and he took a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a playful tone. “I thought you liked it.”

The sensuality from the sound of his voice made you falter slightly, but you weren’t about to let him off that easily. “That’s not the point.”

“Are you mad at me, Bunny?” he asked lightly as if he found your anger amusing. 

“Yes, I am,” you confirmed, shifting your stance to a more defiant one to prove your point. 

“Oh,” he said, his face taking on a mock seriousness as he stepped even closer, his hands drifting to lean against the truck door, trapping you between them but not touching you. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Your heart raced again, an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You hated him, hated how easily he could unravel you with just a few words, a few touches. But the truth was, you loved it too. As much as it frustrated you, as much as it left you feeling exposed, you craved it. 

“You think you can just grin and fix everything?” you said, your voice shaky as you tried to sound firm, but the heat of his gaze was making it hard to stay mad. 

Benny leaned in, close enough now for you to feel the heat radiating from his body. “Maybe not everything . . . but it seems to be working so far.”

You narrowed your eyes, attempting to hold onto your anger, but the proximity of him and the sarcastic quip of his was doing things to your resolve. He wasn’t touching you, not yet, but you could practically feel the anticipation rolling off him. 

“You’re so unfair, Benny,” you muttered.

“I think you like it when I'm unfair,” he whispered, “You like it when I get you all riled up.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. He was too close now, his eyes locked onto yours as if daring you to keep fighting him. Your heart hammered in your chest as his face hovered just inches above yours. He didn’t need to touch you to have you completely undone. 

“I hate it,” you breathed, but the words were unconvincing, even to you. 

“No, you don’t.” Benny’s smirk widened, his breath warm against your lips.

You were trapped, and your anger had melted away, replaced by something hotter, something more urgent. And then, just as you opened your mouth to snap again, Benny’s lips barely brushed against yours, a teasing, fleeting touch that sent a jolt of heat through you. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but he pulled back before you could respond, leaving you breathless and frustrated all over again.

“Still mad?” he asked softly, his eyes roaming over your face as if he was taking in every detail like he was seeing it for the first time again.

You swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Benny almost laughed. “Good.”

Before you could protest, he kissed you properly this time, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that robbed you of your breath once again. You gasped against his mouth, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab his shirt, pulling him closer as your body melted into his. His hands finally left the door of the truck, finding your waist and squeezing gently as the kiss grew more desperate. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was barely holding back, and it sent a thrill through you. 

When he finally pulled back, you grinned up at him. You turned to the truck, opening the door with just enough force to make your point. Benny followed, slower and deliberate as he moved around to the driver’s door. Anticipation settled in your chest as you slid into the passenger seat. You knew you weren’t leaving the night behind just yet. The real teasing had only just begun.

Benny climbed into the driver’s seat, and for a moment, the silence between you was charged. His fingers tapped the steering wheel, a slow and steady rhythm as if he were biding his time. Then, without looking at you, he spoke. “We’re not done just yet, kid.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep what little cool you had left, but the way he said it – calm, teasing and oozing with confidence that drove you crazy – left you speechless. You shifted in your seat.

Benny turned his head just slightly, catching your eye with a knowing smirk. “We’ll finish this when we get home.”

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. You tried to play it off, giving a small shrug as you pretended to still be mad at him. “You better be ready for me.”

Benny laughed softly. “I’ve been ready for you all night.”  

-Tag List-

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[sakharinedragon]

[gh0st-lie]

SIR SIR CLOSE YOUR SHIRT SIR PLEASE SIR

Mod: SR Legacies - Clothing and Armor Suit for All and Epilogue Replacer (Gale) on Nexus

[anakinstwinklebunny]

heyy idk if ur doing requests but id love if u could write a vibrator bondage fic w sugar daddy anakin or just any anakin 🫣

TW: stuff in the ask

Author's note: I do take requests, I just do them longer. Why does everyone think I don't take request? 😭 Ily because you've mentioned sugar daddy and I love me some sugar daddy. PLEASE GIVE ME MORE DILF!ANI OR SUGAR DADDY REQUESTS hope you like it :/

The city lights twinkled below the high-rise penthouse as you sat on the velvet couch, legs crossed, your back arched just right, trying to maintain some sense of composure. The sleek, backless dress clung to your skin, the silky fabric teasing the curve of your body—just like the soft buzz between your thighs that drove you absolutely crazy. You were being teased, used and yet you still felt empty..even after those two orgasms you just had

You bit your lip, eyes fixed on Anakin, who sat across from you in a perfectly tailored suit, his eyes dark and full of mischief. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he seemed to be very proud of it

"You like this dress, don't you?" His voice was smooth, low, almost a purr as he lazily twirled the vibrator in his hand.

The dearest God

His gaze flicked from the hem of your dress to your face, watching every twitch of your body. "The one you’ve been eyeing for weeks…"

You shifted, trying to find some relief from the relentless teasing of the vibrator Anakin had strategically placed inside you earlier. It hummed softly, a constant reminder of his control. The silk cuffs binding your wrists to the armrests of the couch made it impossible to do anything about it. You were at his mercy—exactly where he wanted you. It felt incredible, yet you needed more

"Y-Yes," you managed to whisper, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I want it."

Anakin leaned back, smirking, his eyes gleaming under the dim light. "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart. And you know I always give you what you want… but you have to earn it this time"

He clicked the small remote in his hand, and the vibrator's intensity increased slightly, sending a delicious shockwave through your core. Your breath hitched, and your thighs clenched instinctively, but you couldn't close them—he had tied your ankles to the legs of the couch, leaving you open, vulnerable, exposed. The sensation was almost unbearable.

"Anakin, please," you whimpered, feeling the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for yet another release.

"Please what?" he asked, raising a brow as if he didn’t know exactly what you needed. He took a slow sip of whiskey from his glass, savoring your desperation, enjoying the power he held over you. "Do you want the dress? Or do you want me?" He emphasized the word

Your hips shifted involuntarily, the relentless pressure building between your legs and everything that was happening around you was making it impossible to think straight. The way he looked at you—so calm, so composed, while you were a trembling mess—only made the heat inside you burn hotter.

"Both," you moaned, voice shaking. "I want both."

Anakin chuckled, the sound dark and sinful, his fingertips brushed against your thigh - the touch light as air, making you shiver. He leaned closer you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered in this awfully hot tone, "You have to be good, then. You know how this works."

His hand trailed down your body, fingers dancing over your skin, not quite touching where you needed him the most. He toyed with the hem of the dress, lifting it slightly, exposing more of your trembling hips.

You were so desperate for more—more pressure, more contact, more of him.

"You look so pretty all tied up like this," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as he slid his hand over the sensitive spot between your legs. "But I don’t think you deserve that dress yet. Do you?" He raised his brow, twisting the vibrator deeper

You whimpered in response, your back arching involuntarily as his thumb brushed against your already swollen clit. "Please, ani… I’ll be good. I promise."

His lips curled into a wicked smile, and he gave the remote another click (a teasing excuse of a man). The vibrator surged to a higher setting, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. Your body bucked against the restraints, and a moan escaped your lips. You were on the edge, so close, but still so far.

"You’ll only come when I say so. Understand?"

You nodded, biting down on your lip again, harder this time to stop the building orgasm

"Good girl," he murmured, leaning down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your collarbone. His hand finally moved, fingers sliding down to stroke you in rhythm with the vibrator, building you up, driving you wild.

Your moans grew louder, your body trembling in his grasp. You could feel the tension in your body reaching its breaking point, your thighs shaking, heart racing. You were so close—just a little more, and you’d—

But then, with one swift motion, Anakin clicked the remote, turning off the vibrator completely. The sudden loss of sensation made you whine, your body still throbbing, desperate for release. And so sore of denied release

"Not yet," he whispered against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. "You haven’t earned it."

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you looked up at him, but all you saw was that smug, satisfied smirk on his lips. He loved seeing you like this—completely at his mercy, every nerve in your body begging for his touch.

"But," he continued, his fingers tracing slow circles around your clit, teasing, "if you’re very, very good, maybe I’ll give you what you want."

His hand moved with agonizing slowness, and you could barely think through the haze of desire clouding your mind. "Please, Ani," you whimpered again, willing to do anything to feel him inside you, to come apart under his hands. "I’ll be good, I’ll be so good—"

"That’s what I like to hear," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with authority. And with that, he clicked the remote again, the vibrator roaring back to life, this time at its highest setting.

Your entire body jolted with pleasure, and Anakin’s fingers began to work in tandem with the pulsations, pushing you over the edge. "Now," he whispered, "come for me."

And you did. With a cry, your body shattered beneath his touch, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your muscles tensed and trembled, bound and helpless under his touch, control and affiliation.

As you rode out the aftershocks, Anakin’s hand slowed, his touch softening. He pressed a tender kiss to your hot cheek, his voice low and soothing in your ear. "That’s my good girl."

In the afterglow, as you lay there, limbs trembling and breath ragged, Anakin stood up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "You’ve earned that dress," he said, his eyes gleaming with approval. "And anything else you want."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[life-love-geekculture]

Not gonna lie, Lucanis almost kissing Rook actually gives Cullen shoving all the shit off his desk a run for its money.

[seeminglydark]

Always take a quick breather to check on your anxiety mans status✨

Caro and John are from my webcomic Mil-Liminal

[missathlete31]

GLEN 🔥🔥

[thewitchofstjohns]

MR. SHEEN?!?! SIR?!?!? 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

[middleearthpixie]

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.  

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room. 

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice. 

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups. 

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him. 

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh. 

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations. 

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop. 

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it. 

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand. 

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else. 

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee. 

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so. 

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left. 

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.” 

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes? 

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there. 

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.” 

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood. 

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him. 

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.  

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold. 

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare. 

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples. 

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had. 

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.” 

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well. 

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own. 

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms. 

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.” 

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

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[lustylita]

"They laughed at my dreams, so now I laugh at their lifestyles."

......I need to draw in this style more 😳

[gh0st-lie]

Oh... 👁️👄👁️

[cameronsprincess]

3-man but all my friends are sick 🤫

i mean…. COME OOOON.

[lalacliffthorne]

okay, so, I was just browsing Pinterest, minding my own business, looking for pictures to use for some mood boards; nothing crazy, just searching stuff like winged man aesthetic or smth -

only to suddenly see this -

...

I'm sorry.

the veins. the arms. the pecs. the abs.

the freaking line down to ----

I think my mouth is watering.

[angelwheat]

"The road is long and dark, but I know where we are going."

- Edward Richtofen, Zetsubou No Shima

(my gifs//give credit if used)