#the hobbit fan fiction

[miridiums-writing]

Hey could you write like a Thranduil x y/n thing? I kinda need it right now.

No Escape

Thranduil x reader fan fic

Imagine : If only you didn’t look so similar to his passed wife, maybe you could have made it out of the elven kingdom with the others.

Authors note : im sorry ive been gone so long, im back now though I promise. Ill set up a new masterlist and we can all forget my old works don’t exist because I hate them all.

The forest was so dark, you and the rest of the company trying to navigate through the winding trails. It was all going fine and well until you all realized you were gong in continuous circles. Seeing the same trees, the same oddly shaped rocks over and over that you all realized something was wrong. “lets just set up camp for now and try again tomorrow.” You insisted, noticing the frustration of the others. “Fine,” Thorin conceded. “We get out of here tomorrow though, we have to keep pushing forwards.”

With that you all settled down for the night, you went off to gather some wood for a fire with Bilbo, unsurprisingly your favourite of the company given how down to earth he was, plus the pure entertainment factor he brought to the group at times due to his cushioned upbringing. “Do you think we actually will get out tomorrow?” Bilbo asked, clearly more worried if that could be the case than he let on. “’course we will, we’ve gotten this far haven’t we?” You reassured, patting the top of Bilbo’s head in hopes of calming his anxiety. “I suppose so.” He mused, adding another stick to the bundle you had already gathered. “Exactly,” You said with a warm smile. “Nothing left to bring us down now except the dragon.” Bilbo seemed to grimace at this. “Don’t remind me” He grumbled. You just laughed lightly. “You’re far too negative, always hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. That’s why you’re here, you little burglar.” “I’m not a burglar.” He reminded. “Well, you’re the best we’ve got, maybe when we’re out of this forest I can help train you how to be stealthy.”

The light banter between the two is quickly cut off by a very loud thump against the forest floor, almost shaking the ground between the pair of you. You immediately dropped the pile of branches to the moss ground, breaking into a sprint back to the others, you could here them in the distance fighting when you’re path was blocked by the biggest spider you’ve ever seen in your life. It was a large black, hairy thing, immediately trying to shoot webs in your direction to catch you. Adrenalin jumped you into first gear, dodging by a hair at the first shot, and bringing your bow and arrow from your back to aim at the spider, aiming right between the eyes and firing the shot. The shot lands. The spider falls, only for three more to appear in its place. This was not going to be easy.

You reach back grabbing another arrow and letting it fly, hitting each spider as they came with pristine accuracy. Even with such accuracy though from years training, it didn’t seem to be enough. The arrows quickly started to dwindle, before running out. Not having enough time between spiders to scavenge for your arrows, leaving you eventually cornered, and empty handed. Though just as one of the spiders went to launch itself at you it got violently thrown backwards by...an elf?

~~~~~

You couldn’t decide whether you preferred the spiders, or this. Getting dragged, cuffed, towards a rathe impressive looking castle. Not that you’d ever say that allowed, in fear of further angering Thorin who already looked like he was plotting the elves deaths in detail, shouting, swearing and struggling as he went. You kept your head down, not sure what was about to happen, but not wanting to anger the elves, especially after they went out of their way to save their lives. Even if it meant they’d ended up getting dragged to the dungeons. You had graciously been given a cell alone. Given you were the only woman in the group it seemed only fair. You got yourself comfy against the wall, listening to the others chat amongst themselves on what to do, waiting for a quiet moment to bring up what felt like the most important thing to worry about. “Where is Bilbo?” You said, cutting through the whispers. The others immediately went silent at that. He wasn’t among them, you hadn’t seen him since before the spiders. “Maybe he’s doing what he does best, burgling the keys.” Baldin grunted. You just hoped he was right.

All talk of escape was cut off by guards coming down, leading Thorin from his cell to meet the king. When the dungeon door closed behind them all of you sighed. If Thorin was angry, which he was, all hope of doing this civilly was going to be immediately snuffed out by his rage. The wait for Thorin to come back was long, and silent. Talk of escape had died completely as you all waited tensely for him to return. And return he did. His eyebrows furrowed in rage, cursing under his breath as he was pushed back into his cell resulting in a loud bang as his body collided with the floor. No words needed to be spoken for them to know it hadn’t gone well. The already depressing reality hit like a train. Unless a miracle happened. This was it.

~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to banging against the bars of your cell. You were crumpled against the wall, your back strained from the position you’d slept in. “Get up.” The guard said gruffly, starting to poke you with the sheathed sword to fully wake you up. “Get up!” The demanded again, much more aggressively than previously. You slowly started more your cramped body up off of the floor. The cell door opened and two guards immediately grabbed your arms ad started dragging you out of the dungeon to who knows where. The walk was long and winding, it felt like they were taking you on a confusing route on purpose to make sure you didn’t know the way out. Or maybe the halls really were this confusing, who knows. Either way you eventually arrived at a rather impressive looking door. Large green wooden panels made up the door with large tree roots encasing the doors, twirling around the doors handles.

Someone from the other side opened the doors leading to what seemed to be a throne room, with a tall blonde haired man sat on top, a rather dramatic crown upon his head, adorned with gems and jewels to mimic a berry branch. He watched closely as you were dragged in, forced to kneel down in front of him on the ground. His expression seemed to change from mild annoyance to surprise as you got closer. Now kneeled before him, the man stood, towering over you as he stared down at your face, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Oh, it’s you” He said, relief and sadness laced his voice. His legs seemed to give out under him and kneeled down staring at your face with tears in his eyes. “Oh my dear, how I’ve missed you. I though- I thought you died.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as his hand reached for your cheek, fingertips gently grazing your cheek. You stared at him blankly. Not a flicker of recognition behind your eyes as he acted as if you were supposed to know him. Confusion took over his features at your lack of response. “Calatheil? My blossom, why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Now it was your turn to be confused, “That’s not my name, I’m (Y/N).” You said in response. The man went quiet after that, staring holes into the floor. “But you look like her.” He said, his voice firm, like it was a fact. “That doesn’t mean I am her”

The man went silent again for a moment, anger passing over his face before disappearing. “Of course it does,” He said. “You’ve just forgotten is all.” His words were firm and absolute. “Ill just need to remind you, my poor wife” You looked at him as if he was insane. “But I’m not. I am not your wife, I’m sorry. But I’m not... I wanna go back to my cell now.” The man laughed without humour. “Absolutely not, my wife shouldn’t be around such vermin.” “Do you mean the dwarves?” you asked, going on the defensive, they were your friends, were they odd absolutely, but that didn’t mean you loved them any less. “Of course I do! You’ll be going no where near them ever again. Guards, take her to my room, and do not under any circumstances let her get free!” He ordered, standing up from his crouched position and heading back to his thrown. “And bring me Thorin! I may be inclined to allow his freedom under a condition.” You were once again grabbed by guards and dragged out. “No! I’d rather cells, don’t you dare, I’m not your wife! Let me go!” Your shouts died down as you were dragged further away, thrashing in an attempt of any escape, managing to get one arm free only for more guards to hold you, overpowered once more by the numbers. The struggling silenced to Thranduil as the door shut behind you.

[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.

***

Like it? Love it? Reblog it! Comments are also welcomed!

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketchy-loo6195 @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

It’s the one bed trope but instead of waking up in a sexual position, waking up with a leg in the back and an arm on their face 😂

[snazzynacho]

Snapdragon & Co. Masterlist

The Hobbit fan fiction/Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!OC

(My (mainly lotr/hobbit) account is @whorin-oakenshield yet I’m posting this on here bc this is where I’ve already posted my fan fics to lol)

Read on ao3 here

Read on wattpad here

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Dragon Sickness, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Found family, Mage, Magic, Psychic abilities, Just kiss you idiots, Fae, Fairies, Fae magic, Thorin got that Royal Rizz™, Fili and Kili are sillies, Multiple Endings.

Synopsis: A lonely half-elf-half-fairy and her long-lost sister, whose speciality is magic, join forces with Thorin Oakenshield and Company. To them they are doing a noble thing but little do they know what darkness lies ahead. And what of their past they have to face.

Or, in which,

Nessa had a heart of gold and Thorin was addicted.

chapters under the cut:

Chapters:

1

2

More coming soon!

[roadtogracelandx45]

When the Clock Strikes| The Hobbit AU| 1|

When the Clock Strikes 

Summary: *set in modern-day Erebor* They had taken back the throne and the kingdom under the mountain and now Thorin has to find suitable consorts for not only himself but his two nephews. Among them included a homely grocer turned burglar from the Shire, a lonely princess from a far-off land, and a woman from the king's guard. 

All human 

Thorin/ Bilbo possible 

Kili/ Tauriel 

Fili/ OFC 

Kili/OFC/ Fili 

Rated M for violence

30 chapters

Modern era. 

I thought I had posted this before but looking at it when I was finishing up the second part, I realize I never posted the first part on here just on AO3. So here it is.

One 

 Thorin thought taking back Erebor from Smaug would be the hard part, but he was wrong.

Dead wrong.

He was told by Balin and the small consul who now included his cousin Dain and his sister Dis, that he had to marry and that his nephews, Fili and Kili had to marry as well. 

And that there would be suitable suitors coming from other kingdoms and walks of life. Was going to be the hard part. If it were up to him, he would rule alone, and then when Fili, his oldest nephew was of age and ready to rule he would step down and live the rest of his life in a quiet peace that he hadn't since the kingdom had been sacked and taken over. 

"It's not all a bad thing Thorin." Bilbo Baggins, one of the members of his company, commented as he took a seat at the table, that he and the rest of the company had come into the Great Hall after Thorin in a fit of rage threw all consul members except for his sister and cousin. 

And the burglar went right into clean-up mode, "You want the Durin line to continue on past the boys right?" His blue eyes found Fili and Kili who were sitting next to each other bickering over a prank gone wrong. 

As much warriors as the boys were, they were still just that. 

Boys. 

They almost lost their lives taking back the kingdom and deserved to live a little bit and throwing a marriage into this was going to throw them right into being Thorin's heirs and not being able to actually enjoy life. 

"I do." Thorin finally spoke, he had been quiet for so long that Bilbo didn't think he was going to say anything, "But I don't agree with this. Many kings have ruled without a consort."

 "Not all kings are hot-headed like you brother.' Dis commented, "This will help level things out for us and for Dale."

Dale was the neighboring kingdom that had suffered through a famine that almost wiped out the whole kingdom followed by a depression that was finally letting up after 20+ years. 

 "If not, it will be entraining." Dwalin laughed, he loved watching his long-time friend squirm and get uncomfortable and this was a prime example of it. 

Bilbo dropped his head into his hands with a groan, this was going to be a huge nightmare, he knew Thorin's temper, and he knew Dwalin's temper. 

At the first sign of insult, they would fight. And that was the last thing they needed. 

It was bad enough that Thorin had almost started another war with the King of the Woodlands who was not too far from where Erebor was located due to insults and past hatred. It had taken all of his patience and care to fix the whole situation before it got any worse. 

 "Don't worry Bilbo." Dis muttered, " We will make sure that no more wars get started. At least not until we are back on our feet and good to go." 

And that was what Bilbo was afraid of.

[linasofia]

The Fire

Fandom: The Hobbit

Words: 3,3K

Warnings: 18+

Summary: A young adventurous dwarven woman sneaks out to explore the depth of the mountain, but she never could have foreseen what she discovers there, or how she would be affected by it.

A/N: I was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @procoffeinating, who generously agreed to let me post it together with my fic. Thanks once again! 💙💙💙

”The dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dum... shadow and flame.”

Maybe this was one of her more stupid ideas, but Polina felt in her heart that something rewarding waited at the end of her private exploration. Too curious and stubborn to let go of an exciting opportunity like this, she had carefully planned her secret adventure. She discovered a hidden passage by accident, far down under the mountain, where she was sent to find Master Yugril deep in the mines. Always keen on exploring new territory, she deviated from her original plan and, against better judgement, made sure to memorize the place. A few nights later, when the mountain was sleeping, Polina made sure she remained unseen as she pressed her body through the small and barely visible opening. Beyond lay the passage which she could not wait to chase into the unknown.

Since she started to follow in her father’s footsteps and learned the difficult craft of transforming precious stones into jewelry, she often visited the mines to understand more about the extraction of the beautiful gems she was entrusted with. She knew her way around but this time she was on untrodden stones. Her heart was beating hard, like the hammer in the hand of one of those rough blacksmiths she secretly admired as often as she could.

The air gradually became warmer the further she walked, and darkness seemed even more compact. Polina held the small lantern as high as she could to spread its warm but faint light. She no longer doubted that the passage went deeper than the mines she left behind for the path turned steep and she had to steady herself on the rough walls to prevent herself from slipping. Falling and smashing the lantern was a greater fear than facing her father’s wrath, if he ever found out what she was doing. Still, her curiosity held her in a demanding grip, and even if she had wanted to, she could not turn back now.

Ever since she was a young girl, her mother had told her that she was too adventurous for a girl. Polina never showed any interest in staying at home and learning the skills needed to maintain a household. Instead, she followed her father like a shadow as soon as he was crafting, amazed by his skills and the beautiful things he created. She often ran away with some of the boys to find treasures, as they liked to call them. It could be anything, they never knew what a treasure was until they gazed upon it. Sometimes it was something lost, nothing of value, but interesting enough to catch their attention. Other times it was a place none of them had visited before. And one time it got really exciting, when they found a crack in the mountain. Polina, the smallest in the group, was the only one tiny enough to slip through, and she could still recall the combination of thrill and fear that exploded in her chest when she stood alone on the other side, surrounded by darkness. Back then, the fear of being alone forced her back to her friends but she never forgot the feeling. It marked her for life.

Polina wondered how long she had walked, it felt like a small eternity. Thankfully the path had not divided, so for now she would have no trouble finding her way back. Suddenly she became aware of a small change in the air around her. She was used to all of the different smells her people produced in the mountain. Everything from the smell of food in the large dining halls to smoke rising from the forges was familiar to her, but as she walked, her nose picked up another, unfamiliar scent. It reminded her of smoke, but less unpleasant to breathe in. It did not stick to her tongue as regular smoke did, it felt cleaner somehow. Briefly, she wished that Master Yugril had been with her. He might have known what caused this faint, yet strange smell. But then she thought better of it. Master Yugril would have a few hard words to say to a young dwarven woman, exploring the mountain alone. If she wanted to know the secrets in the depths of this mountain, she needed to find out for herself.

The mountain did nothing to help her. Instead it forced her to walk uncomfortably with her back against the wall, and the lantern did not illuminate much, hanging low in her hand. But Polina urged herself further until there seemed to be a dead end. The walls almost leaned on each other and the gap was not enough for a male dwarf to pass. Polina swallowed hard. She knew she was considered small by the standards of her people, maybe she could fit if she was lucky enough. The memory of the triumph she had felt as a young girl when she achieved what the boys could not, made the decision for her. Afraid to ruin the dress, she decided that it was better to proceed in a less formal way. She pulled the dress over her head and let it fall to the ground. Her underskirt was long enough and wearing only her chemise and corset made her movements a little easier. She laughed nervously at herself. Why was she worried? She was all alone and nobody would see her. The risk of being spotted from the window in her own chamber was bigger and she undressed there daily. She took a deep breath to steady herself, exhaled loudly and then closed her eyes. And proceeded.

Rough stone scraped against her chest and for a short while she thought she was going to get stuck. But then it appeared like the mountain finally was on her side, for the pressure suddenly vanished and Polina stumbled forward when the walls let go of her body, gasping for air. She realized she had stepped right into a large cave and with widened eyes she held up her lantern and looked closely at the wall behind her. No marks on the stone, no signs of any dwarf claiming to have discovered this unfamiliar place before she did. Her heart was drumming. How exciting!

With the lantern in a tight grip she started to follow one of the walls. Her small lantern only helped reveal part of the cave, but her instinct told her that there was a lot she could not see. And then it was that smell, she could feel it stronger now. It was definitely not smoke, at least not smoke coming from the usual burning wood. With one hand on the stone she followed the harsh curves of the mountain. Suddenly she froze in her tracks. Something felt different; ominous and alluring at the same time. It was as if the mountain was breathing and fanning her skin with every warm breath. The old walls were watching her and needed to decide if she was a friend or foe. Then her eyes caught a movement in the dark. Now she was sure. She was not alone. She stood still and listened. Afraid of not being able to find her way back to the small opening, Polina did not dare to move away from the wall. She held up the lantern in an attempt to see more, but it was useless. If she had known, she would have brought one of her father’s large lanterns. Or maybe a torch. She trembled. It did not matter now, all she could do was wait.

It was in the faint light she saw the next movement. Something, or someone, was moving in the shadows just beyond the light. She took a step back, and her shoulders came to rest against the hard stone. Despite her best effort she could not see anything in the dark. It was not until the cave’s inhabitant, without the slightest warning, stepped into the light that she could see properly. The sight made her cry out in shock and she would have fainted, if it was not for the sturdy wall behind her.

Polina was certain that the strange and quite terrifying looking creature staring down on her was not one of Mahal’s creations. It was taller than any dwarf, maybe even taller than the race of Men. She had never traveled beyond their borders, so she was not sure, but stories had been told for as long as she could remember. They stared at each other and when he did not instantly kill her, she allowed herself to breathe again. She let her eyes rest on the heavy mass of muscles on the creature's chest, remarkably similar to her own race in their shape. Unable to stop her gaze, she followed the hairless skin down until she gazed upon a heavy manhood. She gasped and averted her eyes, but she already knew she would never be able to forget what she just saw. The male’s skin was darker than hers, and the uncovered shaft hanging passively from him made her blush. His eyes briefly gleamed like gold when she met his gaze again and it made her curiosity take over.

”What kind of creature are you?” She spoke in the common speech her father had taught her. ”One day,” he had said when they started, ”you might need to speak to people of different races. And that day you will shine brighter than all the other gems who never had the opportunity to learn.”

The male did not answer her. Nothing on his face revealed that he understood what she just said. She was not even sure he heard her. He approached her in a slow, predatory way, holding her gaze steadily with a pair of unusual looking eyes. They shifted between black and gold. The shape of his eyes was different from hers, and his stare far more intense than any other dwarf’s. He stopped only an arm’s length from her and if she reached out, she would be able to touch him. The thought did not scare her, even if the massive horns on his head made her question where he truly belonged. Then she felt it. Heat. It was no doubt coming from him. And the scent she had smelled even before she entered the cave, it was his. Up close it was a raw scent, alluring and somehow masculine. It was impossible for Polina to ignore how it affected her; her heart beat much faster and fueled her inner heat which began to spread in her body, uncontrolled like a firestorm. It was an unexpected, excessively intense and so unlikely feeling, far from anything else she had ever experienced. If she was in trouble before for going exploring on her own, she was in even deeper trouble now, when his piercing gaze made her weak.

Polina had never seen an adult male without a beard and the stranger’s clean face revealed his sharp, strong jaw and together with his incredibly hard body he looked both foreign and familiar at the same time. She wondered how it would feel to touch his silky skin, to run her fingers over his well-defined chest. Next to him, she felt tiny, and when he suddenly lifted his hand, she stopped breathing. Trapped, with her shoulders against the wall, she could not back away and she stared at his large hand as he approached her. Enchanted by his long fingers she did not blink when his index finger brushed against the fabric of her corset. There was a brief burning feeling against her skin and she glanced down in horror. A pile of ash lay at her feet, the sad remains of her clothes. She covered her mouth with her hand, to prevent her own screams from escaping her throat and looked back up at him. Now she was naked, just as he was.

For the first time he was the one who broke their eye contact and let his unusual stare follow the curves of her body. He lingered at her breasts and it made her wonder if she was the first female dwarf he met. The fear she initially felt was replaced with curiosity and she watched with fascination how his eyes gleamed like fire before they once again resembled black opals. In the light from her lantern she saw the beast hanging passively from his body coming to life. Like a predator it woke from its slumber and the thick head made her shiver. Her body answered its silent call.

Something about him made him irresistible. She felt drawn to him in a way she could not comprehend. Maybe it was the gold in his eyes, which spoke of promises she did not even dare try to fully understand, maybe her thirst to discover the unknown made her attracted to the dangerous look on his face or maybe it was simply the heat that surrounded him and eventually her. It could have been all of it, but Polina did not protest when he closed the gap between them, lifted her up in his massive arms and held her against his chest. Instead she wrapped her legs around his waist and welcomed the feeling of his skin against hers. A low groan was heard from the creature when her secret parts pressed against his skin and something in his eyes made her understand that he felt what she already knew; she was aroused.

With a steady grip on her bottom, the horned male let her slide down a little, no doubt leaving traces of her state on his lower belly. Her breath hitched when she became aware of his intention. The head of his engorged member pressed at her slickness and the adjustment her body willingly performed when he stretched her over the top made her whimper. Another groan filled her ears, louder and more feral. When he pushed deeper, Polina’s mind turned hazy and she crossed her arms around his neck. She was sure she was going to faint if he continued and she thought of the terrifying difference in size between them. There was no possibility for him to bury himself to the root, like, for example, the blacksmith would do, and therefore she could only hope that he was merciful. With a hoarse moan, he suddenly pulled her down on him, as far as her body allowed and Polina’s cry echoed between the walls. Then he held her still while her body fought against the shock, and when she finally started to relax, he met her gaze. Slowly, he started to move inside her and excitement filled her when she felt her body accepting him. She closed her eyes, leaned against his torso and let him take her in a sinnister pace she quickly became addicted to.

The darkness around her turned brighter, her body felt like it melted together with his and every thrust was a blessing by Mahal. They were no longer woman and beast, but two souls reaching for the same goal. She felt hot, like she was burning from the inside and the closer she came to her relief, the more she became aware that her great pleasure would come with a price: pain.

Polina lost the ability to focus on anything but the strange burning feeling inside her. Tears welled up in her eyes when her inner volcano erupted and the intense climax tore her apart. She cried out in relief and the roar from the creature rolled between the walls like thunder. There was no way she could tell if he had joined her, but he became still when she collapsed in his arms. She was exhausted, confused and in pain, but all she could think of was that he smelled like…fire.

The sight that awaited her when she opened her eyes made her cry out again, this time in fear. The man, who still had part of his enormous length buried in her, was glowing. His skin resembled the fire only found in the largest of furnaces and the thick veins on his arms seemed to crawl under his skin. Only his eyes were black as a moonless night.

Polina placed her hands on his chest and pushed as hard as she could. With a grunt he slipped out of her and let her land with her feet on the hard ground. She stared at him, his tall and muscular body seemed even larger now, as if he was growing before her eyes. A proof of his ecstasy spilled down her inner thigh and burned her skin like molten lava. He took a step forward, and despite the heat licking her body when he held his hand just above her shoulder, she trembled. When he let his hand fall down on her shoulder, she whimpered. He did not pull back. Without taking his eyes from her, he lifted his other hand, pointed at her eyes and with a voice darker than the deepest dungeon, he spoke one single word; ”Ersar”

Then a tortured expression filled his eyes and he took his hand from her shoulder. In the next blink of an eye, he stumbled backwards and lit up like a torch. She watched in horror how he roared in pain as the flames became part of him. When he met her gaze again, nothing of the man was left in him. He was only fire and his horns grew to a grotesque size and shape. Unable to move, she watched him light up the cave but when he lurched forward, her body finally decided to cooperate. She did what she should have done in the first place; she ran, the fastest she could.

Finding the small opening was easy in the guiding light from the beast and after she pressed herself through the narrow gap it quickly became darker and she allowed herself to slow down. Without the lantern she had to rely on her hands to find her way in the dark. It was not until she fell over something soft and familiar that she felt relatively safe. Without her corset, the dress felt strangely loose on her body, but it was far better than running naked.

Much later, when she sneaked back into her chamber unseen, she let out a deep sigh. Her body was still hurting and on her skin lingered a smoky scent. Polina washed her face over the bowl with cold water and then undressed in front of the mirror. She gazed at her sore body and was relieved when she did not see any burn marks. The painful memory of his pointing finger flashed before her eyes and it made her lean closer to the mirror. No marks on her face either and for that she was grateful. A faint smile spread on her lips but it died the moment realization hit her. How had he known her people's secret word for fire? Had he listened to them in the dark? Watched them also? And for how long? She knew dwarves grew older than Men, but what about beasts? How long had he waited in the dark?

Her hands trembled as she unbraided and combed her long hair. It spilled over her naked shoulders and she gave herself one last look in the mirror. That was when she saw it. She leaned closer to the mirror once more and stared at her reflection. In her eyes danced a small flickering fire. And instantly the burning feeling between her thighs was back. With a gasp she pressed her hand against the intense heat and the strange, but not only painful, feeling when her cold fingers met her sensitive skin made her moan. She wanted to cry, but no tears came. The horned beast had indeed marked her. Something in her heart told her that it was for life.

💙 If you like my writing, please consider spreading the love and reblogging.💙

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @jaskierthelover @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[kayleighhalliday2203]

Chapters: 28/? Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Legolas Greenleaf, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trauma, Recovery, Eventual Romance, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con Summary:

Anna lives alone near the woods, recovering from trauma in her past. One day, she hears a child crying, and sets about a chain of events that leave her playing host to the Elven King.

New Discord server for chat and fic discussion: https://discord.gg/uzFGdfQ All are welcome!

I’M BACK!!!!!

[rite-te-suli-kireysi-ite]

Metamorphosis by Dragmir

Rating:

Teen And Up

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Pairings:

Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company

Bilbo Baggins & Dís

Ori/Dwalin

Status:

Incomplete

68k words

last updated 2020/01/17

Summary:

Or, the one where Belladonna Baggins is sent back in time, if maybe a little too early?

Bella Baggins, young once more, decides to give the Quest for Erebor another shot. Only this time, she intends to get a headstart. After waking up in Bag End, Bella conjures a plan to help Dwarf and Hobbit alike and if it means she gets to see her old friends a little earlier than last time, well, where's the harm?

[conkers-thecosy]

This is an appreciation post for my fellow fic writers. I love you guys. I frikkin LOVE you! I love being in this community with so many amazing writers, it's so inspiring! Thanks for sharing your ideas, your talent, and your excitement with us all!

[anemoxlys]

Thranduil x Reader Cinderella AU

The fat crush I have on this man (this is the 18th piece of writing I have done for him-

Can you tell I just watched Into the Woods?

Word Count: 2000+

“Please Valar…” You whispered before swinging your legs out of your bed and quickly rushing to put on your clothes, the cold of the morning startling you slightly. It had been a few hours since you’d been up before the rest of your household woke as well, buzzing with a certain energy that they only ever got during ball season. “Oh I simply cannot wait!” Angelica squealed, grasping her hands in Marjorie, her sister’s. “Yes, the prince is bound to choose one of you.” Your stepmother agreed, sitting down at the table before snapping her fingers to gather your attention. “Yes ma’am?” You hastily ask, dashing over to her. “Have our gowns ready for tonight, and remember you must feed the dogs whilst we are out.” She sighed, as if talking to you was this time consuming, wasteful task. “I-I was wondering if I may not join you this ball, ma’am?” You softly murmured, nervousness flowing over you. “You, join us?” Your stepmother cackled, clearly finding the prospect ridiculous, “My dear, if you were to come with us, who would clean the house in our absence?” She continued, patting your head before speaking again, “Now, tighten those corsets. We want to grab the prince’s attention after all.” She commanded. Dutifully, you did so, trying to withhold the tears from slipping down your cheeks.

You watched, silently as your ‘family’ rode away from you, their carriage spreading out of the gates without you. Finally, you let yourself cry, fat, ugly tears slid down your cheeks as you sobbed in the driveway. “My dear, why do you cry?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Apologies, are you lost ma’am, maybe I can help?” You immediately responded, wiping your cheeks dry. “It seems as though you are the lost one, is there not a ball tonight?” She asked, resting her hand on your shoulder. “Yes, though I am not allowed to attend.” You smiled sadly, “Are you sure I cannot help miss, I have food if you need or water..?” You asked softly. “I shall make you a deal, you get me a loaf of bread and I shall make you go to the ball.” The strange lady offered. “Of course.” You responded, wholly unbelieving her side of the bargain as you hurried inside to get her the food she wanted. 

“Here you go, miss, safe travels.” You smiled, handing over the loaf, alongside some extras that you packed. You moved to turn around only to be stopped, “It seems I have yet to uphold my end of the deal, do turn around dear.” She called, watching as you followed her instructions.             -     

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” You whispered, clasping your hands together before the carriage door opened and you were forced to step towards the palace. “Miss?” A man’s voice sounded. “Yes, sir?” You asked, nervousness flowing through you. “May I accompany you inside?” He asked, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Me?” You started before realising how rude you probably sounded, “I mean, yes, if you wish.” You corrected, an embarrassed smile falling across your face. The man standing before you was horribly attractive, long blonde hair framing his face perfectly, a pristine black outfit hugged every muscle flawlessly, and his hands were so unbelievably soft when they gently took yours. “Tell me, what is the name of the most beautiful lady in this kingdom?” He interrupted you from your thoughts with his sweet, deep voice. “I do not know sir, to be honest I do not attend such events regularly enough to have an opinion.” You answered honestly, pure terror now overflowing you as you began to walk up the stairs, eyes falling on you as you did. “You look nervous?” The man beside you asked, concern in his voice as you felt his own eyes settle on you. “Just a bit.” You replied before a nervous laugh spilled out of your lips, “Who am I kidding I’m amazed I haven’t run off yet.” You smiled awkwardly, trying not to clasp his hand too tightly. “Don’t be, you look divine.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. “That means a lot, thank you.” You grinned, some of the anxiety leaving you, “May I ask your name?” You questioned, noting the surprised look on his face, “Apologies, as I said I do not attend social seasons regularly.” You immediately backtracked, your face turning hot. “Not at all, my lady, I was simply taken aback. My name is Thranduil Oropherion.” He answered as your eyes widened. “My prince-” You began before he cut you off, “Do not say anything.” He began, pressing his finger to your lips before realising what he had done and immediately pulling back, “I enjoyed our conversation before. It was… refreshing to not be a soon-to-be king to everyone.” He elaborated, watching as your face grew a small bit less flushed. “Of course.” You murmured, taking in a quick breath as you reached the top of the stairs. “Don’t be nervous, just think that they’re staring at me.” He muttered into your ear before the doors swung open revealing a large gold ballroom, paintings covering the roof. 

“Prince Thranduil Oropherion.” The herald announced as the room grew silent and all looked up the stairwell. “Should I have arrived with you?” You whispered as you looked down at the room full of people all staring as you began to descend the stairs. “Do not worry.” He replied before chuckling slightly, “Probably not though.” He continued as you shot him a horrified glare, causing him to laugh slightly more obviously. “Only now we are expected to dance.” He grinned, leading you towards the centre of the room. “You planned this all along didn’t you, my prince.” You hissed, mentally preparing yourself to step on his feet. “What are you accusing me of, my lady?” He smirked, outstretching his hand for you to take. “I’m not a good dancer.” You admitted, a slight laugh escaping you as his face turned mildly horrified, “I’m not going to leave with broken toes, am I?” He teased. “Quite possibly, your majesty.” You replied with a grin of your own. 

You smiled softly at the memory, sweeping the floors as you recalled last night before you had fled the palace. “Wench!” One of your stepsisters shrieked, most likely calling you to prepare them for the second day of the royal balls. “Coming!” You replied removing your apron before running upstairs. “Corset.” She spat, bracing herself against the bed frame. “Of course.” You muttered, getting to work on pulling at the strings of her corset.

-

“I am glad to see you again, my lady.” You heard the now familiar voice of the prince. “To think, I came through a different entrance and everything.” You joked. “Indeed, one might think you were trying to avoid me.” He half-jested. “Indeed.” You agreed. “Why did you run last night?” He asked, taking a step towards you. You remained silent. “Do I scare you?” He started, this time you interrupting him, “You could never, my lord.” You hastily denied, “You wouldn’t want to be seen with me outside of this palace. Let us enjoy what we have here as it cannot exist anywhere else.” You murmured sorrowfully before walking over to get a drink, leaving the prince by himself. 

-

“That bitch was there again!” You heard Angelica squeal before attempting to hit a high note on a song her and Marjorie were learning with their singing instructor. “I know!” Her sister replied before also attempting the same note. You were amazed your ears were still intact with how loud their screeches were, yet you survived the constant war against your senses. “Y/N!” You heard your stepmother call, breaking you from your thoughts. “Coming ma’am!” You called back, placing the broom against the wall before reluctantly walking to her study. You knocked before hearing the confirmation of you being let in. “What do you need from me, ma’am?” You asked, bowing your head as you shut the door behind you. “The stable boy has fallen ill, clean the stables.” She ordered before dismissing you with a wave of her hand. 

-

“My lady.” You smiled as the prince’s voice came to your ears. “My prince.” You replied with a sad smile, knowing that this was the last time the two of you should meet. “May I finally learn your name?” He asked, taking your hands in his own. “I told you my lord-” You began before he interjected, “May I not know the name of the ellen who has taken my heart?” He pleaded, his eyes practically staring into your soul as he spoke. “I may give you a hint my lord.” You gave in, your own heart beating to the same rhythm. “Anything.” You opened your mouth to speak before noticing the clock as your face grew pale. “I must go!” You hastily muttered. “Please, your name is all I desire!” Thranduil begged, reaching for your wrist. “I am sorry, my prince.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you slipped your glove off of your hand, leaving it in his and fleeing down the stairs. As you did so, your foot caught on one of the stones and you slipped down some of the stairwell- your foot sliding out of your shoe as you did. Glancing back up at the doorway, you saw the prince racing down the steps after you, watching with wide eyes as you quickly slipped off your other shoe and fled, leaving one behind. 

-

“That whore took up the whole ball all three days!” Marjorie sobbed into your stepmother’s shoulder as you swept the fireplace, careful to not spill any ashes onto the carpet. “I know.” Your stepmother comforted before a knock on the door caused her to pause. “Shall I get it stepmother?” You asked as she glared at you. “Of course.” She responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Right away, ma’am.” You muttered, standing to move to the door, accidentally knocking over some of the cinders. “You stupid girl!” Your stepmother screamed, her hand coming to slap your cheek, “Clean those up, I shall get the door. Stupid child.” She spat, not caring as tears began to slip down your cheeks at the sting of her hit. 

“We really must see every ellen.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as the sounds of footsteps came towards you. “My daughters are all you need to see, our housemaid does not leave the house much.” Your stepmother immediately shut down the idea as you continued to sweep. “No matter Elaron.” A familiar voice reached your ears. You forced your head to stay down, however your sweeping has ceased, the urge to look at his face one more time growing nearly overpowering. 

A loud, piggish, squeal reached your ears as Angelica tried to shove her foot into your shoe. You watched out of the corner of your eye, a small smile on your lips as she was rejected- her sister taking her place as she also tried to shove her hoof into the clearly too small heel. 

“I thought I said to clean that up!” Your stepmother hissed, stalking over to you as you hastily began to clean again. “Sorry, ma’am.” You softly apologised, flinching away from her as she raised her hand up. “There is no need to violence, miss.” Thranduil’s voice once again reached your ears, his voice sounding more hopeful than before as he carefully walked over to you. “What is your name?” He asked, voice full of desire. “I am afraid I cannot tell you, my lord.” You responded softly, a grin falling over your lips as he sharply breathed in. “Elaron!” He quickly called as the sound of more footsteps came. “May I?” He asked, kneeling down before you, shoe outstretched. “Of course.” You answered, finally looking at him. Carefully, he slid the shoe onto your foot, his face erupting in happiness as it slid further onto your foot without resistance. “You have the other?” He asked, “I would hate for my queen to walk with only one shoe.” He continued as you reached into the pocket of your apron- pulling out the second shoe which he carefully slid onto your other foot.

I hope you enjoyed, I know it's not as long as some of my other works but I like the length for this fic (I feel as though if it has been too long it would have been less enjoyable) Let me know your thoughts, and if there are any typos please let me know I do not proof-read...

[miridiums-writing]

The new improved mastlist

The hobbit

No escape; Thranduil x reader : You looked so spookly similar to his late wife

JJk

Not a moaner?; Toji x reader: smut without a plot

Mystic Messenger

What Saeyoung would say in bed

[middleearthpixie]

The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter Eleven

Summary: Although Erebor is his once more, Thorin knows there is still a great threat to the peace of Middle Earth. Azog is gone, but another has taken his place and has sworn to finish what Azog began. Erebor is back, but it’s sadly lacking in protection and as much as he hates the thought of it, Thorin knows there is one thing that will guarantee the safety and continuation of his line.

War is coming and all Eirlys of Mirkwood wishes to do is fight alongside her brother Legolas and the other elves, united with Men and Dwarves in their attempt to quell the renewed tensions between them and the orc army of the north. But, her father, Thranduíl has other plans. Unite his kingdom with the newly reestablished kingdom of Erebor and use the power of both to defeat the orcs.

An arranged marriage that neither side wants, but both sides need. But what happens when the two sides realize that maybe—just maybe—being together isn't quite as bad as they'd thought...

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.3k

Read on AO3

Butterflies fluttered about in Eirlys’ belly as Madris steered her to the bench at her vanity. “This is silly, Madris. He knows what to expect. He’s a man and has probably done this a thousand times before.”

“Eirlys!”

“What?” Eirlys met her horrified gaze in the large oval mirror above the vanity table. “Have I said something I shouldn’t?”

“Well… not exactly, I suppose. But what do you know of what he expects?”

“Because Tauriel and I did speak. And quite often.”

“And that’s what His Majesty gets for allowing the two of you to become friends.”

“That is neither fair nor kind, Madris.” Eirlys shook her head. “I never thought you to be anything of a snob, you know. Tauriel was like a sister to me and I miss her so terribly now.”

“Well, ordinarily I’m not, but… well… you are a young maiden and should have been innocent of such things until you were married.”

“And now I am. And I know full well what Thorin of Erebor will expect this night and all I can hope is that I do not disappoint him. I’ll imagine he’s been with a fair number of women before me.”

Although her cheeks grew ruddy, Madris merely asked, “What makes you think so?”

Eirlys stared at her in the glass. “Have you not seen what he looks like, Madris? Tauriel thought Kíli handsome, but Thorin makes him look like a mountain troll.”

“My lady!”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Well… no, I don’t suppose I can. But, again…” Madris sighed sharply, her cheeks growing redder still. “What did Tauriel tell you? Just so I know what I should tell you.”

The butterflies worsened and her cheeks grew slightly warm, but Eirlys still managed a smile. “You needn’t tell me anything, Madris. I’ll be fine and your face might melt completely off otherwise.”

“Are you certain?”

Eirlys let her gaze drop to her own reflection. Her cheeks were only slightly pink, despite the growing heat in them. “Well…. I suppose…”

“What is it?”

“What if I do disappoint him? What if I disappoint him so greatly, he seeks his comfort elsewhere?”

“You know him better than I do,” Madris replied carefully, sinking onto the elaborately carved chest at the foot of Eirlys’ bed. “Do you think he would do such a thing?”

“I don't know. I only know him slightly better than you, remember.”

“Fair enough. But,” the mattress squeaked softly as Madris got to her feet and moved to cup Eirlys’ chin, “do not worry and do not compare yourself to any who might have come before you. You will benefit from anything he’s taken away from previous experience. And besides, you know not that he will even compare you. Men are funny that way. They tend to forget those in their past when they are caught by the one with whom they are meant to be.”

“Meant to be? Madris, my father arranged this marriage and it’s mostly one of convenience.”

“Perhaps,” Madris straightened up as a gentle knock sounded, “but I saw how he looked at you, both during the ceremony and after. I’m not entirely sure it will remain a marriage of convenience. For either of you. At least, not for very long, anyhow.”

“Eirlys?” Thorin called softly, knocking once more. 

Eirlys swallowed hard, her hands falling into her lap, into the pale ivory silk of the nightgown that had been left laid out on her bed by one of the servants. The fabric was cool and smooth, but wrinkled easily, so she smoothed out the newest creases and said, “You should probably let him in.”

“Of course.” In a rare breach of protocol, Madris bent to press a kiss into the top of Eirlys’ head. “Worry not. You have nothing to fear, love.”

Tears poked the backs of Eirlys’ eyes at the maternal touch, and smiled as she slowly nodded. “I hope not.”

“You won’t. I feel it in my bones.” Madris stepped away from the bench and crossed to the door, where she tugged it open and greeted Thorin with a warm, “Good evening, Your Majesty. I apologize for the wait.”

“It’s of no trouble,” he hesitated, “Madris, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. If you require me for anything, you need only tug the cord alongside Her Highness—erm—Her Majesty’s bed. I will bid you both a good evening and once more offer you my best wishes on your marriage.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Madris took her leave and as the door clicked shut, Eirlys’ belly gave a might leap. She suddenly felt terribly underdressed in the nightgown, as it was far more revealing than anything she’d ever worn before, with a plunging neckline, edged in lace, that offered up more than a peek at the inner curves of her breasts.

And that wasn’t all. The sides were lace, and would leave little to the imagination when she stood. She stared at her reflection, swallowing hard when she realized the gown was sheer enough that she could make out the dark shadows of her nipples through the silk. Oh, my…

Madris had set out a silk and lace wrapper for her as well, but it currently lay draped over the foot of her bed, where it had been set earlier alongside the gown, and a sudden, unfamiliar shyness swept through her, rendering her incapable of rising.

“Is something the matter?” Thorin’s voice was still soft, his boots thudding dully on the floor as he came into the room and appeared in the glass behind her. He looked tired, his eyes heavy-lidded, as he eased the brilliant blue tunic he wore over his head.

Her mouth went suddenly dry at the unexpected sight of her husband’s bare chest. He’d shown no hesitation in whisking the garment from his body, no shyness at all, and it was easy to see why.

He was, without a doubt, the most powerfully-built man she’d ever seen. Thick, curly black hair shot through with silver spilled over broad shoulders and tumbled down his back. A heavy mat of black hair curled away from his skin, covering his barrel chest from shoulder to shoulder and down over his belly, where it disappeared into the waist of his black linen trousers. He bore more than a few scars, and the upper right side of his chest was inked with an intricate pattern of lines of varying size that curved along his upper arm and over his shoulder as well. 

Draping the tunic over his forearm, he said, “Where should I put this? It needs to be laundered.”

“O—over in that—that basket.” She rose and then turned to point to the tall, narrow woven basket in the far corner, near her wardrobe. “Maylin will take everything in the morning, while we are at breakfast.”

To her horror, his eyes widened at the sight of her and the urge to throw her arms across her chest nearly strangled her. Especially when those pale blue eyes moved slowly up to meet hers.

Then, he offered up a sheepish grin, balling up the tunic to throw at the basket. The basket bumped softly against both the wall and the wardrobe, but the tunic landed squarely inside it. “I beg your pardon, Eirlys. I wasn't expecting you to look so… striking…”

The uncomfortable heat became far more pleasant with those words. She still felt far too exposed, but for a moment, she didn't mind it. “Thank you.”

The sheepishness left his smile and he lowered his hands. She swallowed hard as he reached for his heavy gold belt buckle, and it rattled when he unbuckled it. Any moment now and those elegant trousers would simply spill from him to puddle at his feet.

But to her surprise, the gold belt with its heavy buckle slid easily through its loops, and his trousers remained firmly in place. He turned to let it fall atop the chest, and while he had his back to her, Eirlys practically dove at her wrapper and was shrugging into it as he turned back.

His smile widened, his eyes dancing with something that looked very much like merriment as he said, “I wish you wouldn’t worry so much about covering yourself. You’ve no need to, you know.”

Heat swirled through her, caused her to pull the ski robe more tightly about herself. “I—I beg your pardon?”

He took a step closer to her. “You looked fine the way you were.” 

As he spoke, he caught the edge of the wrapper, curling his fingers into the stiff lace. Her heart pounded against her ribs at his gentle tug, at the lace scraping lightly against her. Her cheeks felt like they had to be bright scarlet by now, but there was no denying how the sudden race of her blood was far more delicious than it was unnerving. It almost made her tingle from the inside out.

He leaned toward her then, the coarse whiskers along his chin scraping her just as lightly as the lace dragging against her collarbone did, and when his lips found hers, they were warm and soft and gently teasing.

Eirlys met him, letting her hand come to rest against his bared chest, her fingers slipping into hair that was far softer than she imagined it would be. Beneath her fingertips, his heart beat, steadily at first, but as his lips parted and his tongue swept along hers, it sped up, thumping hard and fast beneath her touch. 

His lips moved against hers, going from warm to hot as his tongue slid deep along hers, teased hers, drew it back into the wet heat of his mouth, where she did the same to him. The lace scraped harder now, the silk skimming her left shoulder as it spilled from her to pool in the crook of her bent arm. 

Fire filled her as he deepened his kiss, his hunger feeding hers. Another gentle tingle swept through her, the warm silk a caress against her now-too-sensitive skin. Her nipples beaded against it to bring a sigh to her lips. The silk teased those aching beads now, her back bowing of its own as if to encourage him to let his hands wander down to her breasts, to cup them and tease her nipples further still. 

But to her great impatience, he showed no interest in her breasts, but instead caught the wrapper with both hands now to shove it from her, and she lowered the hand resting on his chest to let it spill from her.

A thick arm slid about her waist, drew her flush against him and she couldn't hold back her gasp as that crisp hair combined with the hot smooth silk to torment her further. Tiny knots tightened deep within her, first in her belly, but then they dropped lower and she was all too aware of the damp heat now swelling between her thighs. 

He bent her back slightly, groaning softly into her mouth as the motion thrust her breasts firmly against his chest. His free hand skimmed down along her hip, his fingers brushing her bared skin as he slowly tugged the silk gown up, along her calf, over her knee, toward her hip. 

His fingertips came rough upon her aching skin, and as they swept along the back of her thigh, she shivered against him, lifting that leg to arch against him, against the sudden, firm bulge she felt at the apex of his own thighs. 

The hand on her hip swept around, curved against her cheek to clasp her hard against him. His gentle thrust was almost her undoing, as it sent a spiky hot pleasure rippling through her, one that had her mewling with pleasure into his mouth. 

He drew back, breaking his kiss, but then moved to sweep his lips along her chin, her neck bowing as he moved along it, as he kissed his way down into that plunging vee, along the inner curve of her left breast. 

Eirlys couldn't keep her heavy-lidded eyes open. The sensations racing through her rendered her addled and aching for more. She couldn't breathe, her head spun too wildly and her heart raced unlike it ever had before. Desire, strong and sweet, flooded her and without thinking, she slid one hand down between them, to curve it against that swollen part of him, her curiosity as strong as her need. She had never seen a naked man before and as she traced along his thick length, her imagination ran wild with what she would soon see with this one.

“Eirlys…” her name was a breathless, heated whisper along the curve of her right breast, and she shivered as he shifted and his mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue dampening the silk as he slowly traced about the bead he’d caught. The combination of wet silk and his rough tongue set off a chain reaction inside her, made those knots twist and tighten as arousal flooded her.

He rocked against her, the pressure offering only hints of relief. 

Then, his fingers brushed down into the crease of her thigh and bottom and then—

“Oohhh…” she breathed heavily into his hair as his fingertips brushed the curls shielding her womanhood from his eyes. Those curls parted. And his fingers teased lightly along aching flesh that had been touched by no man before him. 

Her curls parted. His caress slow and teasing as he slid one fingertip along her, as the pad of that finger just brushed over the sensitive bead nestled within. 

Her fingers tightened on him involuntarily, a cry bubbled to her lips as he then slipped that same finger slowly inside her. She tightened about it, her hips moving of their own as he did a slow, teasing stroke that had her sinking her free hand into his thick hair. She twisted and held on, her body begging him to move faster, the knots threatening to come undone in the sweetest of ways. She teetered on the unfamiliar edge, clinging to him, rocking to meet each teasing thrust, each delectable swirl.

He teased her until she thought she’d burst, until she thought she’d go mad with the need for some kind of release. Her head spun madly. Her body begged for his, for that part of him that would bring out the relief she so desperately sought.

His name rose of its own to her lips, a husky, raw whisper, “Thorin…” 

His tongue swirled about the silk, about her nipple. His finger moved silkily inside her. The knots tightened further still. Every muscle seemed to tense, hot and tight and aching with need.

Then he shattered her.

She cried out, unable to hold it back as the knots exploded and fire rained upon her, spun wildly through her, left her dizzy and raw and clinging to him as each delicious pulse swept through her, as she tightened about him and her fingernails dug into his nape, her fingers twisted sharply in his hair. Oh, this was beyond amazing, this pleasure that tore through her like a wildfire, that washed over her like a tidal wave.

He caught her around the waist with his free arm, kissing his way back to her lips before drawing back. Then, he swung her effortlessly into his arms to spirit her to her bed, where he bent to set her down, looming over her, his black hair spilled all around them. 

Thorin bent to her, his mouth hot and hungry as it found hers, his kiss filled with the same fire and desire he’d sent sweeping through her. Without thinking, she freed the buttons of his trousers to shove her hand inside and beneath the hot linen she found even hotter man. That hard part of him was hot and veined, the skin soft and almost supple. Her fingers moved of their own along his length, about his thickness, and when she curled her fingers about him and swept her hand down, he shuddered against her.

He arched into her touch, his groan low and throaty, a shudder rippled through his body and his tongue plunged deeper into her mouth. With each stroke, he grew harder, thicker, and she smiled as he moaned softly. She might not know exactly what she was doing, but he certainly seemed to have no complaints.

His breath caught. His body tensed. His head fell into her chest as he growled, “Eirlys…”

Then, to her surprise, he grabbed her hand to pull it free from his trousers. Disappointment flashed through her, even as he breathlessly whispered, “I wish to see you.” 

She bit down hard on her bottom lip as she met his gaze. His eyes seemed brighter, far bluer now and they held hers as he shifted to catch her gown, now damp in several spots, to whisk it up along her thighs. The air was cool despite the fire crackling on the hearth, but heat swept through her as the silk rose over her hips and his gaze fell upon her. No man had ever seen her this way and the fire that gleamed in Thorin’s beautiful blue eyes spoke volumes. They fairly burned with desire and a sinful smile curved his lips as he tugged the silk higher still.

Eirlys pushed herself up and as the silk skimmed over her head, she felt his gaze before she saw it. The gown fluttered to the floor, leaving her bare before him and she almost smiled at the soft, strangling sound that rose in his throat.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching to tug off his boots and stockings before coming back up to grip the waist of his trousers. They rested on his hips and seemed to offer no resistance as he pushed them down. Linen swept along thighs heavily laden with muscle and layered with curling black hair, down along calves wrapped with bands of thick muscle.

Her mouth went dry. He was a sight to behold, her dwarf, and she had never dreamed such a magnificent man could exist.

Until now.

He offered up an impish smile. “You are staring.”

Heat climbed into her cheeks. “I beg your pardon… I did not—”

He bent to brush her lips with his. “I mind not. I find I’ve got a bit of the stares myself. You are stunning.”

He gave her no chance to respond, but claimed her lips in a teasing kiss that was gentle and sweet. Her lips parted of their own, welcomed him as it deepened, as he gently eased her onto her back and settled between her parted thighs.

He was solid and firm, but kept most of his bulk supported on his forearms. At least, he did until she slipped her arms about his middle and pulled him firmly against her. He arched against her, his sigh becoming hers as she pressed her thighs into his sides and that thick, swollen part of him brushed against her slick, aroused feminine flesh. He arched again to glide against her, and although the remnants of her climax had faded, the pleasure surged through her anew.

He reached between them and a moment later, she felt him press against her. He was gentle, moved slowly as if afraid he’d hurt her otherwise. Her fingernails bit into his back in anticipation as he deepened his kiss and pushed with a bit more force. Any moment and he would be inside her. Any—

—moment.

Ow. 

The pain came unexpectedly and she sucked in a sharp breath as it felt like he tried to tear her asunder. Hot. Stinging. Sharp. She couldn’t hold back her cry as he continued his assault.

“No… please don’t…”

She tried to pull away but he whispered, “It will stop in a moment, mesmel. I promise you, it will…”

But it didn't stop. No, it worsened exponentially and she shuddered beneath him as there came a sudden, tearing pop and then…

Then he filled her and went still against her. 

Was that it? She frowned even as the stinging subsided. It no longer hurt, but…

He moved slightly.

Her breath hitched. That definitely did not hurt.

“Eirlys?” He rose onto his forearms, gazing down at her with eyes of concerned sapphire. 

“I think I’m all right,” she whispered back, easing her grip on his back. “I just… I didn't know it would hurt.”

“But does it still?”

“I—I don't think so,” she shook her head. 

“Good.” He bent to kiss her, then offered up a slow thrust, whispering, “And that?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

Then he thrust once more, this time with a bit more fire. All traces of pain vanished and left in their wake, a sparkling pleasure that grew with each steady, controlled thrust. He moved easily inside her, silky and slow, and she savored every delectable inch of him, her thighs squeezing his sides, her fingernails biting once more into the warm skin of back. 

The pleasure engulfed her, going from sweet to spicy hot as his thrusts came swifter and more powerful now. He rose onto his forearms once more, moving faster still, his eyes screwed shut, his breath as fast and furious as his thrusts now. 

Delicious fire filled her, beginning where they joined to flood her veins, to send flashes of brilliant white light dancing before her eyes. Her head spun wildly once more, her body hummed with the need for release and with each thrust, Thorin brought her closer to that blessed end. She clung to him as he drove them both along the length of the bed, where she finally had to throw up a hand to keep from slamming into the headboard of woven branches. 

He surged hard then, crushing her close as the knots inside her burst once more and she cried out her pleasure, arching to meet him, wrapping herself about him. He drove them over the edge, her climax a shower of fire and ice and everything wonderful.

“Eirlys…” Her name was a husky growl on his lips. He thrust hard once more, tensed, shuddered, and then went rigid as he came. 

A peaceful silence, broken only by their mutual fight to draw breath, settled about them as Thorin sank against her, his head coming to rest on her breast, his breath hot blasts against her equally hot skin. 

Eirlys’ eyes were too-heavy-lidded to remain open and so she let them close, her fingers moving lightly along the silken length of Thorin’s tangled black curls, smiling when his lips ever so gently swept against the inner curve of her left breast. 

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

He lifted his head, regarding her with eyes that were just as sleepy as hers. “Isn’t that what I am supposed to ask you?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Good. I am as well.” He shifted sightly and they both winced as he slipped free of her. He eased off her and for a moment, she thought he was going to get up and leave, which brought down her blissful mood a tad.

But then, he stretched out alongside her and reached for her, drawing her up against him as he draped his arm about her shoulders. Eirlys hesitated at first, wincing at the damp stickiness between her thighs, but as she reached to draw the sheet and coverlet about them, she forgot the mess. The wet spot behind her was another story, but Thorin didn't seem to mind her curved up against his side, and she was so very comfortable with her head resting on his chest and her arm draped over his belly.

His thick fingers swept lightly along her shoulder, along her upper arm. “I am sorry I hurt you, Eirlys,” he murmured into the growing darkness as the logs on the hearth slowly burned up. “I hope I won’t the next time.”

She smiled. “I should have remembered.” She peered up at him in the darkness, her eyes adjusting enough to make out his profile. “Tauriel warned me, you know, after she and Kíli were married.”

“Well, no one warned me.”

Her smile faded. “I suppose I’m the first virgin you’ve been with,” she murmured. 

The sheets rustled softly as he rolled to come over her. “Mesmel, you are the first woman I’ve been with.”

His eyes glittered in the pale moonlight that filtered through from the terrace and she stared up at him. “What?”

“You sound as if you don't believe me.”

“Well, because I don’t.”

“Why?”

She stared up at him, dumbstruck that he should ask such an obvious question. “Thorin… do you mean to tell me that this was your first time as well? I mean, your first time, ever?”

He smiled and dipped to brush her lips with a teasing kiss. “It was, indeed. And a better first time I could not have asked for.”

“How is that possible? I mean… how has no other woman ever caught your eye? They must have been nearly pounding down your door to get to you.”

To her surprise, he laughed. Low and smooth, it rumbled from deep within him and he shook his head. “I am flattered you think that of me, Eirlys. Truly, I am. And perhaps it is not this way for elves, but for dwarves, we remain chaste until marriage and then, we are faithful to our chosen partner for all eternity.”

Without thinking, she reached up to trace her forefinger along his jaw, over the bristly black beard shot through with silver. “But you didn't choose me, Thorin.”

“It matters not. We are bound together and so we shall stay bound together. And I consider myself quite fortunate in that, you know.”

His words warmed her, made her smile, and when he dipped back to kiss her once more, she lost herself in it and surrendered to the magic of him once more. 

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo

@lathalea @legolasbadass @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @notlostgnome

@myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield

@frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls

@evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

@night-ace @lyl1pad @mistresskayla-blog1 @kmc1989 @linasofia 

@rachel1959 @sketch-mer-6195 @sherala007 @enchantzz  @sorisooyaa 

@albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse  

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the tag list, please just let me know!

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Thranduil NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring and sweet. Wants to spend a lot of time wrapping his arms around his partner, like a mother koala. Will want to carry his partner to the bath and take his time with a gentle cloth

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, his hands and fingers. He loves how both elegant and powerful they can be. He adorns them with regal looking rings. Loves how they can give his partner both pleasure and pain

On a partner I feel like he loves hips. Great place to grab onto to manoeuvre and hold on tight while he’s fucking hard. Also a great place to anchor you as he holds you, running his fingers from the top of the rib cage all the way to the bottom of the hip and squeezing it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves to cum on his partner and will just look at them covered in cum for a bit while his breathing starts to calm down. He becomes almost amazed at how his partner looks

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I’ve seen heaps of people say how he wants to fuck his partner on his throne but I believe he wants to give oral on his throne. Is usually dominant but the almost taboo of having someone else sit on his throne and he be on his knees is something that always feels new and exciting to him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had a small handful of experiences with partners before his wife but mainly just one night stands as a sexy young prince. I believe he got all of his experience and talent from his wife. Big hoe with one person sort of thing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style I’d say. Being able to control the pace so much and grab as much of his partner as he’d like. Pulling them up to have them flush against against his chest while he can grab at them too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not very goofy. Can be cute and sweet while his partner sits on his lap and he plays with them but never really goofy. Usually pretty serious in the heat of the moment but can switch to sweet and soft quickly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very groomed and sparse golden hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends. He likes to fuck hard and isn’t usually very romantic in the act but he definitely can be. If his partner needs him in that way he is more than happy to hold them, kiss them and sweet talk them while he makes love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not that often. Barely ever if he’s in a relationship and about once or twice a week if he’s not.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size and Kingly kink.

If it’s a human partner then there’s definitely a size/dominance kink, wanting to be in charge and dominant.

Would use his power and Royal position to push his dominance further. Making his partner call him ‘my king’ and ‘your highness’ really gets him going

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His throne or his big royal bed. Wants to be left alone with just him and his partner and be able to fuck however he likes.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When his adrenaline is raised from either training or battle and he’s finding his partner and fucking them hard.

Seeing his partner wearing formal/regal wear makes him want to reck them, ruining their beautifully done hair and pristine outfit.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No weapons, even a paddle. He never wants to make his partner bleed and he wants to be able to properly control the pain he gives, so hand spanking instead of a paddle every time

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves to both give and receive.

When he gives he holds his partner down and craves to overstimulate them with his mouth. His partner will never cum only once if he’s giving them oral.

He prefers to sit instead of laying down when receiving. Either on his throne or a big armchair. Loves to look down onto his partner and stroke their hair and talk dirty. He isn’t opposed to face fucking but prefers his partner take their time so he can tease them while they pleasure him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he’s fucking but slow and sensual with oral

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The version of quickies that he likes is dragging his partner away to somewhere quiet and using his fingers and hands to make them cum before going about his day. Sometimes he likes to see how many times he can quickly make them cum between duties.



R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Doesn’t really like to take many risks. He is king and while he likes to degrade his partner at times, he does keep his focus on keeping them safe and away from prying eyes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He will go as many rounds as his partner can take. If he takes a human partner he likes to go until they just pass out from pleasure. Can hold off from cumming for a long time but also doesn’t really have much of a refraction period so he can just keep going and going

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toy he really has are plugs because he likes to bring his partner pleasure himself. Will put the plug in his partner and make them wear it at a fancy event.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loooovvvveeesss to tease. The teasing is done with light touches and whispered words in public. Drive his partner crazy while he acts so innocent and will never be caught in what he’s doing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lots of powerful grunts and looottttsss of dirty talk. He growls pretty loud when he cums but mainly lots of grunts and groans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If his partner is more of a casual thing he’d never be submissive but if he’s in a committed relationship with someone he loves to be taken care of in a submissive position. If his partner is AFAB he will want to get pegged and will want to suck and lick their strap.

In a committed relationship he loves his partner to be a soft dom every now and then. Not often, probably like once or twice a year.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A lot longer then average but pretty average width

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When not in a relationship it’s about average but in a relationship it goes right up. Wanting to fuck like every second day or something.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly at all. Will always wait until his partner falls asleep and is asleep for about 15-20 minutes before he even tries to drift off

[snazzynacho]

Snapdragon & Co.

The Hobbit fan fiction/Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!oc

Masterlist

Chapter One: Last of their kind

Chapter 2

Love had always felt like a distant dream to Nessa.

A fantasy one's imagination makes up to cope with the everlasting loneliness of what it meant to be a ranger. Even more so when she was turned away from the only place she could call home.

Even if she never particularly liked the elves, her being half-elf meant she grew up in the core of Elvish life. Rivendell. Her mother who was dying of a broken heart didn't help either. Especially since she is still knocking on death's door years later. Nessa presumed it would be easier to deal with her mother as if she's already passed than to watch her slowly dying.

It's not like her mother would care anyway. The last she heard of her was that she was doing much better since Nessa left. Seeing her daughter obsess over everything fairy-related must've been the cause for her decline. And Nessa's leaving, despite how horrible it sounds, made her survive.

Being Half-Elf and growing up in Rivendell meant Nessa would have always been fighting to fit into a world that saw her as a joke. A 5'3 half-elf half-fairy whose loud bubbly and, at most, eccentric personality only made her stick out like a sore thumb. I guess she could blame the fairy genes for that...But she never wanted to blame her fairy heritage for anything! The few times she had heard about the Fae from her mother appealed to her greatly. The lost race of the fairies would always hold a place in her heart. She was proud of her origin.

The Fairyland, though practically nonexistent today, sounded like the perfect place for her. If only it wasn't for the major depletion it accumulated in all of time, she would be living the dream by now. Thus her Elvish mother took her to Rivendell when she was a baby.

Also, because her fairy father flew off. (Literally.)

__________________

In a quiet clearing on the outskirts of a woodland, near a village in Bree, Nessa received a letter.

Upon opening, almost unreadable scribbles - assumed to be due to someone's shaky old hands scrambling to write their last words from their death bed - become clear and her theory of someone old writing this letter only made more sense to her as she began to read;

Dear, long lost sister.

                            My name is Rogue. All I've been told is that we have the same father. Sometime after he left you he became my father also. So, I am writing you this letter in the hopes that you may want to talk. You don't know me and I don't know you and yet we're sisters. Deep down I know you will do anything for me and I'll do the same for you.

This is why I want to ask, Would you like to meet in person? I will be arriving shortly.

We sure have a lot to catch up on. Time is of the essence, my dear sister.

From,

Rogue.

Nessa's eyes were as wide as her pet Owl's when she refused to give her another treat, and her mouth was agape. Nessa's had a long-lost sister this whole time and only finds out now?!

If this sister is who they say they are, they must be old now, as she speculates. Half-human. Half-Fae. Rogue is right, time is not on their side. Death seems to follow Nessa and even still, plagues a half-Fae-half-human.

The sweet hoot of her owl (Pilvi) and the gentle flapping of its wings brought Nessa back to her surroundings. She must pack a bag immediately. Food. Water. Medicine if needed. What state is Rogue in? Are they ill? Is that why they've waited all this time to contact them? Humans don't live long after all. Or had they only just heard about Nessa, as Nessa had about them? Is it too late to meet them? She received this letter weeks ago...

Her pet owl hooted again.

"Aw Pilvi, sorry, were you hooting for me?" Nessa caressed her bird and watched her enjoy it. Pilvi's eyes squinted and her head relaxed as if the loving touch could melt her.

Her precious hoot filled the room once again and Nessa cooed back, softly speaking to her.

Interrupting them, a knock sounded. It was uncommon for Nessa to receive visitors. Not after the fairyland practically died out. This must be some kind of trick, ironically.

Pilvi was flustered. Her wings sprayed in and out continually. After calming her owl down, Nessa grabbed the nearest item that she could find, which could be used as a weapon.

A frying pan.

Nessa slowly opened the door, peering out. An unknown figure stood in the pouring rain. Their fur cloak visibly weighed heavy on their shoulders as it soaked with rain. Along with wet blue locks of hair that peaked from under their hood.

"Oh, my, are you lost?" Nessa asked worriedly. She pondered to herself as to what might have happened to this poor soul out there in the woods in the rain.

"I am Rogue, your sister."

"Oh. You're not old,"

Rogue blinked in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"You're human. Aren't you supposed to be old? Dying on your deathbed?" Nessa waved the frying pan about as she confusingly tangented. "That's why you asked to meet. And your handwriting...very shaky!" She pointed the pan in Rogue's direction who, in return, produced a blank stare.

The frantic waving of the frying pan returned along with another tangent from Nessa and before they knew it they were bickering like sisters do. Amongst the chaos Rogue managed to snatch the frying pan, tired of Nessa waving it too close to their face for their liking.

"GIVE IT BACK!" Nessa shrieked.

This continued for a few moments until Nessa suddenly screamed

"OLD CREEPY MAN!" as she pointed to someone not that far behind Rogue.

Rogue turned around and tried not to show her annoyance at the man. "Speaking of old, that is Gandalf. He's not creepy, he's a wizard."

A long pause comes as all three take long looks at each other.

"OLD CREEPY WIZARD?!?!" Nessa screamed again and in this moment of distraction, she grabbed the frying pan back and held it up as if she was going to do damage.

Rogue yelled out for her and swiftly snatched it again. "I'm half human. HALF. I'm not old."

"Then stop flailing like a child." Gandalf scolded as he walked closer to them, staff in hand.

"She started it!-" Rogue began as Gandalf stopped them again.

"Long-lost sister. Wizard. I think I'm going to faint." Nessa felt her forehead with her hand. The cold rain did nothing to cool her down.

"Let me help with that," Rogue declared as they took a purple glowing flower from their bag and the next thing Nessa saw was darkness.

_________________

Nessa stirred in her sleep, her nose twitched at the smell of

Pipe-weed. She had the weirdest dream. There was a wizard and her long-lost sister!?

She opened her eyes, expecting to be in her bed. Alone. Maybe with Pilvi by her side. And a book. But no. A figure with long blue hair, braided sporadically, leaned over her. Her dream was real. Though, no wizard in sight. Maybe that was the part her dream made up.

Before she could start to question anything and everything, Rogue placed a hand over her mouth and sent her a look, asking for trust. Nessa nodded and the hand was taken off her mouth.

Rogue slowly held out her hands for Nessa to hold. The single touch of their palms caused a glimmering shine to arise across their skin almost as if they were made of glitter. Their glowing veins painted the room in gold.

They studied their skin for what felt like years, unable to look away. "Fae markings," Nessa whispered, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Fae markings," Rogue repeated, pleased that her trick worked.

"You're my sister!"

"Of course I am. Now let's get down to business," They gently let go of Nessa's hands, and the glow dimmed until it was no more.

Rogue took a chair, spinning it around to sit on it backwards,

"Would you like to help a group of Dwarves take back their land?"

"Too right!" Nessa wholeheartedly agreed. She had nothing to lose. With the died-out fairyland and all, she also most certainly understood their wanting to take back land. These sisters finally reunited, the last of their kind would be helping the dwarves reclaim their home, as they wished others would have helped the Fae.

"You didn't make up that wizard, by the way."

"How did you know-"

_________________

A/N:

omg hi I have so much planned for this fic it's insane.

I started this with my bestie and we have made so much lore for the sisters and I literally cannot wait to show you all!

Btw We started a lotr fan fic before this one but we've not added onto it nearly as much as this one although they do have similarities (fairies & angst lol)

So idk when we'll pick that up again (probably after I finish writing this) but for now enjoy this fic <3

Anyway, we hope you enjoyed reading! look out for chapter 2👀

Also I made Nessa and Rogue in sims 4!!!

[roadtogracelandx45]

Prompt List updated March 27th

I am starting with 70 for now, I may add or change them going forward. but for now these were the ones i had in my notebook. i got all of them off of Pinterest. Some already have names by them but go ahead and request them again if you like the prompt and I can redo them.

Fandoms I write for:

Top Gun Maverick: All

Elvis: Elvis

One Chicago: Kelly Severide, Jay Halstead, Will Halstead, Connor Rhodes, Adam Ruzek

Avengers: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Natasha, Clint Barton, Peter Parker

Triple Frontier: Will Miller and Benny Miller

Four Brothers: Bobby Mercer, Jack Mercer

Sons of Anarchy: Jax Teller, Opie Winston, Juice Ortiz, David Hale,

Fast and Furious: Dom Toretto, Roman Peirce, Brian O'Conner, Letty Ortiz

Band of Brothers: Wild Bill, Babe, Malarkey, Nixon, Winters, Joe Toye

Twilight: All of the Cullens, Jacob Black and Bella Swan

Harry Potter: All

WWE/TNA/AEW/ ROH : Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose, Stephanie McMahon, Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Chris Jericho, CM Punk, The Young Bucks, Adam Cole, Bobby Fish, Kyle O'Reilly, Roderick Strong, Chris Sabin, Alex Shelley, Randy Orton, Edge, Christian Cage, Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy, Hurricane Helms. Mr. Kennedy

Supernatural- Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Cas

The West Wing: Josh Lyman, Sam Seaborn

Game of Thrones: Robb Stark, Jon Snow, and Sansa Stark

Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Legolas, Aragon.

Black Sails: Billy Bones, James Flint, Eleanor, Charles Vane, Anne Bonney, John Silver

Law and Order SVU: All

Hawaii Five-0: All

SWAT: All

Yellowstone: Kayce Dutton, Rip Wheeler, Beth Dutton, Jamie Dutton.

Crash- Kenny

Southland- John Cooper, Ben Sherman

Gotham- Jim Gordon

White Collar- Matthew Keller

The Mighty Ducks- All

The Outsiders- All

Masters of the Air- all

Newsies- Jack Kelly, Davey, Spot Colin, Mush, Kid Blink

*****

01 “Oh you think I am cute when I am angry? Well get ready because I am about to be gorgeous.”  

02. “I can’t lose you again. Can’t  you see that? I am not strong enough.” 

03. “Marry me’ 

04. “I’m not jealous.” 

05.  “Kiss my ass.” 

06.  “Were you ever gonna tell me?” 

07. “Excuse you?”

08.  “This is all your fault.” 

09. “It’s not fair.” 

10. “Game Over, you lose.” 

11.  “Is she always this obnoxious?” “Oh, she is just getting warmed up.” 

12. “We don’t need to control them. We need to unleash them.” 

13. “It should have never come to this.” 

14. “I’m not a lot of people’s favorite person.” 

15. “I shouldn’t have wasted 3 years on someone when Russia could have sent me a good bottle of vodka.” 

16.  “Can we have this conversation when you aren’t upset?” 

17. “Come over here and make me, why don’t ya?” 

18.  “I am tired of being your secret.” 

19. “Mess with them, you mess with me.” 

20. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” 

21. “ I am coming to get you. Stay there.” 

22. “Are you safe?” “I, I don’t know.” 

23.  “This is why I don’t let myself fall in love.” 

24. “You are my regret.” 

25. “You have to make a choice.” 

26. “Put the knife down.” 

27. “Jokes on them.” 

28. “The way you flirt is shameless.” 

29. “With all due respect, I’m going to ignore everything you just said.” 

30. “It’s me! It’s me baby! Calm down.” 

31.  “Have you lost your damn mind?” 

32.  “Hey, I am here with you. Okay? Always.”

33. “Hold me back.” 

34.  “You aren’t a bad guy.” 

35. “You know we are meant to be.” 

36. “Mine.”

37. “Seriously, you are a manchild.”

38.  “I get it alright! I fucked up!” 

39. “She’s dead! I killed her!” 

40. “You smell nice.”

41.  “I think I am pregnant.”/ “I am pregnant, not helpless. Stop worrying so much.” 

42. “So what if I am jealous? Its not gonna change anything.” 

43. “You owe me.”

44. “Be careful.” “I always am.” 

45. “Take my jacket, it's cold outside.” 

46. “I am not some toy  you can play with.” 

47. “Just play long. Please.’

48.  “I did something terrible.’ 

49. “Don’t hurt the hair on their head.’ 

50. “I got your back.” 

51. "I told you not to get too close to me."

52. "How long?' "Since the beginning."

53. "Touch her and you're dead."

54. "Baby, we are the law."

55. "Baby, don't make me spell it out. You know I want you."

56. "I will always choose you."

57. "What happened? I told you to stay by my side!"

58. "Don't you dare!"

59. "Well what can I say? I am a badass."

60. "Excuse me, I have to go and make a scene."

61. "Before this happens, I need you to know that I have always loved you." 1

62. "No panties, baby girl?" 1

63. "Well you are coming home with me whether you like it or not."

64. "That looks hard. Let's switch."

65. "Saddle up doll."

66. "Like what you see?"

67. "Don't pretend to be innocent."

68. "You're mine. And I don't share."

69. "Welcome back, now fucking help me."

70. "Don't be an asshole, asshole."

[sorisooyaa]

OMGGGGAHHHHHH AHHHHHH THAT WAS SOO GOOD WHATTTT!!!

I'm kinda turned on for monsters now.... WAIT WHATTTT!!!! IGNORE THATT 🤐

OMGGG POLINA, GIRLLLLL YOU IN FEEP TROUBLE OMGGGGGGG!!!! IS IT WRONG TO SAY I JUST REALLY REALLY LOVED THIS STORY OF YOURS?!?!?! THE ANSWER IS NO!!!!

MY GOD LINA!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME!!??!?!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I LOVE THIS STORY SOO MUVH!!!! PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME THERE’S MORE!!!! OR LINA I'LL KNOCK ON UR DOOR ANNOYING YOU EVERDAY WITH RAYMOND/FATHER QUART STUFF!!!!!

The Fire

Fandom: The Hobbit

Words: 3,3K

Warnings: 18+

Summary: A young adventurous dwarven woman sneaks out to explore the depth of the mountain, but she never could have foreseen what she discovers there, or how she would be affected by it.

A/N: I was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @procoffeinating, who generously agreed to let me post it together with my fic. Thanks once again! 💙💙💙

”The dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dum... shadow and flame.”

Maybe this was one of her more stupid ideas, but Polina felt in her heart that something rewarding waited at the end of her private exploration. Too curious and stubborn to let go of an exciting opportunity like this, she had carefully planned her secret adventure. She discovered a hidden passage by accident, far down under the mountain, where she was sent to find Master Yugril deep in the mines. Always keen on exploring new territory, she deviated from her original plan and, against better judgement, made sure to memorize the place. A few nights later, when the mountain was sleeping, Polina made sure she remained unseen as she pressed her body through the small and barely visible opening. Beyond lay the passage which she could not wait to chase into the unknown.

Since she started to follow in her father’s footsteps and learned the difficult craft of transforming precious stones into jewelry, she often visited the mines to understand more about the extraction of the beautiful gems she was entrusted with. She knew her way around but this time she was on untrodden stones. Her heart was beating hard, like the hammer in the hand of one of those rough blacksmiths she secretly admired as often as she could.

The air gradually became warmer the further she walked, and darkness seemed even more compact. Polina held the small lantern as high as she could to spread its warm but faint light. She no longer doubted that the passage went deeper than the mines she left behind for the path turned steep and she had to steady herself on the rough walls to prevent herself from slipping. Falling and smashing the lantern was a greater fear than facing her father’s wrath, if he ever found out what she was doing. Still, her curiosity held her in a demanding grip, and even if she had wanted to, she could not turn back now.

Ever since she was a young girl, her mother had told her that she was too adventurous for a girl. Polina never showed any interest in staying at home and learning the skills needed to maintain a household. Instead, she followed her father like a shadow as soon as he was crafting, amazed by his skills and the beautiful things he created. She often ran away with some of the boys to find treasures, as they liked to call them. It could be anything, they never knew what a treasure was until they gazed upon it. Sometimes it was something lost, nothing of value, but interesting enough to catch their attention. Other times it was a place none of them had visited before. And one time it got really exciting, when they found a crack in the mountain. Polina, the smallest in the group, was the only one tiny enough to slip through, and she could still recall the combination of thrill and fear that exploded in her chest when she stood alone on the other side, surrounded by darkness. Back then, the fear of being alone forced her back to her friends but she never forgot the feeling. It marked her for life.

Polina wondered how long she had walked, it felt like a small eternity. Thankfully the path had not divided, so for now she would have no trouble finding her way back. Suddenly she became aware of a small change in the air around her. She was used to all of the different smells her people produced in the mountain. Everything from the smell of food in the large dining halls to smoke rising from the forges was familiar to her, but as she walked, her nose picked up another, unfamiliar scent. It reminded her of smoke, but less unpleasant to breathe in. It did not stick to her tongue as regular smoke did, it felt cleaner somehow. Briefly, she wished that Master Yugril had been with her. He might have known what caused this faint, yet strange smell. But then she thought better of it. Master Yugril would have a few hard words to say to a young dwarven woman, exploring the mountain alone. If she wanted to know the secrets in the depths of this mountain, she needed to find out for herself.

The mountain did nothing to help her. Instead it forced her to walk uncomfortably with her back against the wall, and the lantern did not illuminate much, hanging low in her hand. But Polina urged herself further until there seemed to be a dead end. The walls almost leaned on each other and the gap was not enough for a male dwarf to pass. Polina swallowed hard. She knew she was considered small by the standards of her people, maybe she could fit if she was lucky enough. The memory of the triumph she had felt as a young girl when she achieved what the boys could not, made the decision for her. Afraid to ruin the dress, she decided that it was better to proceed in a less formal way. She pulled the dress over her head and let it fall to the ground. Her underskirt was long enough and wearing only her chemise and corset made her movements a little easier. She laughed nervously at herself. Why was she worried? She was all alone and nobody would see her. The risk of being spotted from the window in her own chamber was bigger and she undressed there daily. She took a deep breath to steady herself, exhaled loudly and then closed her eyes. And proceeded.

Rough stone scraped against her chest and for a short while she thought she was going to get stuck. But then it appeared like the mountain finally was on her side, for the pressure suddenly vanished and Polina stumbled forward when the walls let go of her body, gasping for air. She realized she had stepped right into a large cave and with widened eyes she held up her lantern and looked closely at the wall behind her. No marks on the stone, no signs of any dwarf claiming to have discovered this unfamiliar place before she did. Her heart was drumming. How exciting!

With the lantern in a tight grip she started to follow one of the walls. Her small lantern only helped reveal part of the cave, but her instinct told her that there was a lot she could not see. And then it was that smell, she could feel it stronger now. It was definitely not smoke, at least not smoke coming from the usual burning wood. With one hand on the stone she followed the harsh curves of the mountain. Suddenly she froze in her tracks. Something felt different; ominous and alluring at the same time. It was as if the mountain was breathing and fanning her skin with every warm breath. The old walls were watching her and needed to decide if she was a friend or foe. Then her eyes caught a movement in the dark. Now she was sure. She was not alone. She stood still and listened. Afraid of not being able to find her way back to the small opening, Polina did not dare to move away from the wall. She held up the lantern in an attempt to see more, but it was useless. If she had known, she would have brought one of her father’s large lanterns. Or maybe a torch. She trembled. It did not matter now, all she could do was wait.

It was in the faint light she saw the next movement. Something, or someone, was moving in the shadows just beyond the light. She took a step back, and her shoulders came to rest against the hard stone. Despite her best effort she could not see anything in the dark. It was not until the cave’s inhabitant, without the slightest warning, stepped into the light that she could see properly. The sight made her cry out in shock and she would have fainted, if it was not for the sturdy wall behind her.

Polina was certain that the strange and quite terrifying looking creature staring down on her was not one of Mahal’s creations. It was taller than any dwarf, maybe even taller than the race of Men. She had never traveled beyond their borders, so she was not sure, but stories had been told for as long as she could remember. They stared at each other and when he did not instantly kill her, she allowed herself to breathe again. She let her eyes rest on the heavy mass of muscles on the creature's chest, remarkably similar to her own race in their shape. Unable to stop her gaze, she followed the hairless skin down until she gazed upon a heavy manhood. She gasped and averted her eyes, but she already knew she would never be able to forget what she just saw. The male’s skin was darker than hers, and the uncovered shaft hanging passively from him made her blush. His eyes briefly gleamed like gold when she met his gaze again and it made her curiosity take over.

”What kind of creature are you?” She spoke in the common speech her father had taught her. ”One day,” he had said when they started, ”you might need to speak to people of different races. And that day you will shine brighter than all the other gems who never had the opportunity to learn.”

The male did not answer her. Nothing on his face revealed that he understood what she just said. She was not even sure he heard her. He approached her in a slow, predatory way, holding her gaze steadily with a pair of unusual looking eyes. They shifted between black and gold. The shape of his eyes was different from hers, and his stare far more intense than any other dwarf’s. He stopped only an arm’s length from her and if she reached out, she would be able to touch him. The thought did not scare her, even if the massive horns on his head made her question where he truly belonged. Then she felt it. Heat. It was no doubt coming from him. And the scent she had smelled even before she entered the cave, it was his. Up close it was a raw scent, alluring and somehow masculine. It was impossible for Polina to ignore how it affected her; her heart beat much faster and fueled her inner heat which began to spread in her body, uncontrolled like a firestorm. It was an unexpected, excessively intense and so unlikely feeling, far from anything else she had ever experienced. If she was in trouble before for going exploring on her own, she was in even deeper trouble now, when his piercing gaze made her weak.

Polina had never seen an adult male without a beard and the stranger’s clean face revealed his sharp, strong jaw and together with his incredibly hard body he looked both foreign and familiar at the same time. She wondered how it would feel to touch his silky skin, to run her fingers over his well-defined chest. Next to him, she felt tiny, and when he suddenly lifted his hand, she stopped breathing. Trapped, with her shoulders against the wall, she could not back away and she stared at his large hand as he approached her. Enchanted by his long fingers she did not blink when his index finger brushed against the fabric of her corset. There was a brief burning feeling against her skin and she glanced down in horror. A pile of ash lay at her feet, the sad remains of her clothes. She covered her mouth with her hand, to prevent her own screams from escaping her throat and looked back up at him. Now she was naked, just as he was.

For the first time he was the one who broke their eye contact and let his unusual stare follow the curves of her body. He lingered at her breasts and it made her wonder if she was the first female dwarf he met. The fear she initially felt was replaced with curiosity and she watched with fascination how his eyes gleamed like fire before they once again resembled black opals. In the light from her lantern she saw the beast hanging passively from his body coming to life. Like a predator it woke from its slumber and the thick head made her shiver. Her body answered its silent call.

Something about him made him irresistible. She felt drawn to him in a way she could not comprehend. Maybe it was the gold in his eyes, which spoke of promises she did not even dare try to fully understand, maybe her thirst to discover the unknown made her attracted to the dangerous look on his face or maybe it was simply the heat that surrounded him and eventually her. It could have been all of it, but Polina did not protest when he closed the gap between them, lifted her up in his massive arms and held her against his chest. Instead she wrapped her legs around his waist and welcomed the feeling of his skin against hers. A low groan was heard from the creature when her secret parts pressed against his skin and something in his eyes made her understand that he felt what she already knew; she was aroused.

With a steady grip on her bottom, the horned male let her slide down a little, no doubt leaving traces of her state on his lower belly. Her breath hitched when she became aware of his intention. The head of his engorged member pressed at her slickness and the adjustment her body willingly performed when he stretched her over the top made her whimper. Another groan filled her ears, louder and more feral. When he pushed deeper, Polina’s mind turned hazy and she crossed her arms around his neck. She was sure she was going to faint if he continued and she thought of the terrifying difference in size between them. There was no possibility for him to bury himself to the root, like, for example, the blacksmith would do, and therefore she could only hope that he was merciful. With a hoarse moan, he suddenly pulled her down on him, as far as her body allowed and Polina’s cry echoed between the walls. Then he held her still while her body fought against the shock, and when she finally started to relax, he met her gaze. Slowly, he started to move inside her and excitement filled her when she felt her body accepting him. She closed her eyes, leaned against his torso and let him take her in a sinnister pace she quickly became addicted to.

The darkness around her turned brighter, her body felt like it melted together with his and every thrust was a blessing by Mahal. They were no longer woman and beast, but two souls reaching for the same goal. She felt hot, like she was burning from the inside and the closer she came to her relief, the more she became aware that her great pleasure would come with a price: pain.

Polina lost the ability to focus on anything but the strange burning feeling inside her. Tears welled up in her eyes when her inner volcano erupted and the intense climax tore her apart. She cried out in relief and the roar from the creature rolled between the walls like thunder. There was no way she could tell if he had joined her, but he became still when she collapsed in his arms. She was exhausted, confused and in pain, but all she could think of was that he smelled like…fire.

The sight that awaited her when she opened her eyes made her cry out again, this time in fear. The man, who still had part of his enormous length buried in her, was glowing. His skin resembled the fire only found in the largest of furnaces and the thick veins on his arms seemed to crawl under his skin. Only his eyes were black as a moonless night.

Polina placed her hands on his chest and pushed as hard as she could. With a grunt he slipped out of her and let her land with her feet on the hard ground. She stared at him, his tall and muscular body seemed even larger now, as if he was growing before her eyes. A proof of his ecstasy spilled down her inner thigh and burned her skin like molten lava. He took a step forward, and despite the heat licking her body when he held his hand just above her shoulder, she trembled. When he let his hand fall down on her shoulder, she whimpered. He did not pull back. Without taking his eyes from her, he lifted his other hand, pointed at her eyes and with a voice darker than the deepest dungeon, he spoke one single word; ”Ersar”

Then a tortured expression filled his eyes and he took his hand from her shoulder. In the next blink of an eye, he stumbled backwards and lit up like a torch. She watched in horror how he roared in pain as the flames became part of him. When he met her gaze again, nothing of the man was left in him. He was only fire and his horns grew to a grotesque size and shape. Unable to move, she watched him light up the cave but when he lurched forward, her body finally decided to cooperate. She did what she should have done in the first place; she ran, the fastest she could.

Finding the small opening was easy in the guiding light from the beast and after she pressed herself through the narrow gap it quickly became darker and she allowed herself to slow down. Without the lantern she had to rely on her hands to find her way in the dark. It was not until she fell over something soft and familiar that she felt relatively safe. Without her corset, the dress felt strangely loose on her body, but it was far better than running naked.

Much later, when she sneaked back into her chamber unseen, she let out a deep sigh. Her body was still hurting and on her skin lingered a smoky scent. Polina washed her face over the bowl with cold water and then undressed in front of the mirror. She gazed at her sore body and was relieved when she did not see any burn marks. The painful memory of his pointing finger flashed before her eyes and it made her lean closer to the mirror. No marks on her face either and for that she was grateful. A faint smile spread on her lips but it died the moment realization hit her. How had he known her people's secret word for fire? Had he listened to them in the dark? Watched them also? And for how long? She knew dwarves grew older than Men, but what about beasts? How long had he waited in the dark?

Her hands trembled as she unbraided and combed her long hair. It spilled over her naked shoulders and she gave herself one last look in the mirror. That was when she saw it. She leaned closer to the mirror once more and stared at her reflection. In her eyes danced a small flickering fire. And instantly the burning feeling between her thighs was back. With a gasp she pressed her hand against the intense heat and the strange, but not only painful, feeling when her cold fingers met her sensitive skin made her moan. She wanted to cry, but no tears came. The horned beast had indeed marked her. Something in her heart told her that it was for life.

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