#thorin x female reader

[fizzyxcustard]

Those Hands.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity, comparison, angst, sexual references, mutual pining, idiots in love.

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you (from the race of Men) but constantly compares his body and features with other men, thinking you find him disgusting." Requested by multiple readers and anons. (THANK YOU!)

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thorin watched every little interaction that you had with other males, whether they be Dwarves, Men or Elves. He couldn’t help but watch you blush, avert eye contact and use self-soothing gestures, such as touching your face, curling your hair with your fingers, or rubbing your upper arms. 

Since Thorin had been crowned King of Erebor, and re-building was underway, many people visited the mountain. Bard came from Esgaroth, often meeting with Thorin in council, to discuss trade deals and assistance in building. Much to Thorin’s distain, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, also came. Again, he joined the council to converse around the subject of trade deals in precious metals and gemstones.  

Your relationship with Thorin was entirely built on trust. The two of you had been companions out on the road during the quest to re-take Erebor. He had always valued your opinion, spoke with you in private, and kept you close to him on his council of advisors. Erebor was now your home, despite you being of the race of Men. Your family were all gone, meaning that the Dwarves had now taken that place, welcoming you into the fold and treating you as one of their own. 

One morning, council was busy. Neldra, one of the kitchen staff, was on hand with jugs of cold drinks and pots of tea. Then once all the drinks were laid out neatly on intricately laced doilies, she came back with a trolley of fresh pastries. 

The smell was divine; you took an inhale and let the scent overtake you. Apple and cinnamon were among the selection: your favourite. 

You reached out to take one of the pastries, only to feel another hand graze yours. “I apologise,” a voice came, from the direction of the hand. 

It was Bard, from two seats down to your right hand side, who had stretched across to grab one of Neldra’s famous delicacies. “It was no bother,” you replied. “You first.” 

“Ladies first. I insist.” 

Thorin’s blue eyes studied the scene going on before him. No one else had noticed the exchange between you and Bard. Upon the impact of yours and Bard’s hands, Thorin felt a jolt in his chest. It rose up into his throat, and he closed his eyes for a brief second. The red hot sensation bore into him, feeling as if it were forming a hole straight through him. Upon opening his eyes, Thorin looked at his hands, then glanced across to Bard’s. The man’s hands were broad, but his fingers long and slender. Very much unlike Thorin’s. The Dwarf King’s fingers were short and bulky, with stubby ends. Surely Bard’s hands would have the dexterity and skill to caress your skin, drawing shivers from you. A Dwarf’s hands would be too calloused and thick to evoke any kind of pleasurable sensation upon a woman from the race of Men. 

Chatter continued, along with eating and drinking. In that time, Thorin tried his hardest to push the negative thoughts from his mind, and concentrate on the conversation at hand, which involved the realms of Erebor and Esgaroth exchanging skilled workers and apprentices. 

Thranduil was also present and merely rolled his eyes as the conversation got underway between Bard and Thorin. The Elven King did not like to waste his time, and being in this council meant that there were stints of time where his input was not needed. 

“Would you like another drink?” you asked Thranduil, picking up the nearest china pot of tea. 

“I would much prefer wine, but since I’m not within my realm, I would not say no.”

Thorin’s gaze darted over to Thranduil, and then to you. He saw you brush a piece of hair behind your ear, and then look up at the Elven King sat opposite you. Your ears were small, with one golden hoop earring in each lobe. Then Thorin looked at Thranduil’s ears; pointed at the tip, finely structured. They weren’t big, round and sticking out. Thorin’s ears were ugly, and thankfully he could keep them hidden under his long hair. Secretly, he had always imagined you whispering against them, your lips brushing them. It made Thorin shiver. 

Once council had concluded, Thorin left the chamber and headed back to the royal wing. Once inside and he stood in front of his full length dress mirror, staring at the protruding ears on the side of his head. Then he studied his large hands, thinking back to Bard’s. 

The males from the races of Men and Elves made you blush in a way that Thorin never had. Their bodies were more finely crafted, which complemented yours. They had finer features with smaller noses and brows. 

Thorin shifted back and sat on his bed, his hands in his lap. He took one more glance at them, feeling disgusted at what he saw. They would never be good enough for you. None of his body would ever be good enough for you. Everything about him was oversized, not delicate and handsome like Bard and Thranduil. Both of them had lost their wives, and may have wished to re-marry, so they would make better husbands for you. 

***

The following day and Thorin was sat in the council room, signing documents. His quill scratched loudly against the parchment. 

You walked in, holding a further stack of documents in your hands. “These should be the last ones,” you said, offering a smile. 

Thorin looked up at you. No blush on your face to be seen. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked. There was something in his eyes, a thoughtfulness. Maybe even a sadness. You sat down in an empty seat next to Thorin. “What’s wrong?” On impulse, you placed your hand on top of his. 

Thorin looked at your hands, watching your thumb gently caress his knuckle. How huge his hand looked against yours. But how right it felt, as if the size did not matter, and they were still able to fit together as one. 

“There is nothing wrong,” Thorin said, forcing a weak smile. “I hear that Bard is leaving this afternoon. Will you not be wishing him farewell?” 

“I barely know him,” you replied. “I’d feel it strange to do so.” 

“Would you wish to get to know him?” 

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Surely you find him handsome,” Thorin continued, pulling the new stack of documents over towards him. 

“Not really. Can’t say I do. There’s some reason to you asking this, Thorin.” 

“Why would I have any reason?” 

“There’s always a reason to anything that you ask. I know you enough by now. Talk to me. You’ve always given me more trust than I deserve, and never questioned me liked this before.” 

Thorin took a deep inhale and looked at you, dropping his quill. “Who do you find handsome? If not Bard, maybe Thranduil?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ever would you think I’m attracted to King Thranduil?” The whole idea was so comical that you couldn’t help but keep giggling. “It takes….” You couldn’t stop the giggling. “A special….kind of woman….to…..” 

Thorin also began to chuckle, watching your face turn red in amusement and delight. His heart somehow felt lighter as he watched you, and that overwhelming love for you rose. It was a love that would allow him to do anything to make you happy. It was a love that would make him sacrifice his very life to keep you safe. It was sacrificial and unconditional. 

You could see the glow in Thorin’s eyes and the smile which curled his lips upwards. He was the one you found handsome, above all others. The intensity in his eyes made butterflies swarm in your stomach. His proud presence caused you to shiver whenever he entered a room. His voice was enough to make your imaginations travel to another place where only the two of you were, locked away in comfort, pursuing wondrous pleasure. 

You edged closer to Thorin. “You said you want to know who I find handsome?” 

Thorin’s heart was hammering now and he was sure that you would be able to hear it. 

“It’s you.” Your voice was a whisper. “It’s always been you. How could it not be you? Why would you ever think I’d be attracted to Bard and Thranduil?” 

Thorin closed his eyes in embarrassment. “My features and body are not like theirs.” 

“So why would that not make you handsome?” 

“My hands…” 

“Your hands?” you giggled. This time a blush did hit your cheeks, and it was even more vivid than it had ever been when in the company of any other man. “You have found out my secret.” 

“What secret?” Thorin asked, shifting ever so slightly closer to you. He had never wanted you any more than he did in those moments. The very thought that it was him that you found handsome was making his whole being rise, but anticipation was now racing down his spine in shivers. 

“I have had a fantasy for some time now, since meeting you, of what you could do to me with those hands,” you said, biting your lip. 

Thorin couldn’t hold back any more and moved even closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek. His breath was elevated and his eyes were sparkling with so much joy, but slight fear. 

His lips crashed against yours and you both groaned upon impact. Within seconds and the kiss had grown deep, your tongues both meeting. You couldn’t help but whimper as Thorin’s lips left yours and trailed down your neck. His beard tickled your skin and then as he grew more impatient, you could feel the tickle become a bristling, sharp sensation. Your hands became lost in his hair as he nuzzled at your neck, groaning and grunting. 

Thorin felt your fingertips brush over his ears, and it drew an overwhelming shiver from his very core. 

“I love you, Thorin,” you said again. “Now show me what you can do with those hands.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @xxbyimm @linasofia @middleearthpixie @knittastically @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @luna-xial @mrsdurin @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindedwriter @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @braidedheart @dumbassunderthemountain

Middle-earth tag list: @mismaeve @sotwk @emmyspov @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

The Hobbit tag list: @flowerniche

#Thorin Oakenshield #The Hobbit #Thorin x You #Thorin x Reader #Thorin x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x You #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Reader #Thorin x Female Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader #Reader Insert #Insecurity #Fanfiction

[gloomwitchwrites]

Misunderstanding

Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, possessive / jealous Thorin, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, established relationship, table sex

Word Count: 1.5k

A misunderstanding gives Thorin cause to remind you that you're his.

A/N: For @protosslady

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

“My queen, how should we allocate these funds?”

You glance at the parchment and frown. With Erebor reclaimed, reconstruction has begun, but with it comes all sorts of complications and roadblocks. Most of Erebor needs serious repair and attention. The majority of the remaining population lives outside, something that Thorin is increasingly growing upset about. He wants his people back home, and that is admirable, but with Smaug previously making a home here, the structural integrity of some portions of Erebor are in question.

Sighing, you consider all the options before answering. “Let us focus on residential areas for these. When those spaces are suitable for habitation, we can begin moving people out of tents and into homes. That is priority.”

“Of course, my queen.” The aging dwarven men around you bow deeply, many of their long, gray beards brushing the ground.

As they straighten, the door to your private study bursts open. Thorin stands in the doorway. There is a fire in his gaze and his chest heaves as if he’s just run a mile. It’s startling. He’s upset, but you’re not sure why.

Everyone around you turns and bows toward their king.

Thorin’s gaze passes over each of them before landing on you. He strides into the room, purpose in every step.

“Leave us,” he commands, his voice ringing loud and clear in the room.

They all bow a second time before quickly collecting their things and making a swift exit. Thorin approaches, and you move toward him, reaching out once the last of them have closed the door behind them.

“Thorin—”

Your husband reaches for you, pulls you in by the waist until you’re pressed up against him. His hand is on the back of your neck, the small hairs catch in his fingers as Thorin slowly arches your throat.

The look of hunger in his eyes is different. He wants you—needs you, but there is something else swirling there, lingering in his heart, making you question this sudden intensity.

“I need to kiss you,” he says, and it’s almost a groan.

“My lips are right here,” you reply with a soft giggle. “You may always kiss me whenever you wish.”

Thorin shakes his head slowly. “I’m not talking about your mouth.” Thorin leans in, his lips almost brushing yours, but his free hand grabs at your upper thigh, indicating where Thorin is wanting to put this mouth.

“Oh,” is all you say in surprise.

The hand around your neck slides away, and then Thorin is gripping your hips, moving to the undersides of your thighs to lift you off the stone floor. You wrap your arms around his neck, and Thorin deposits you on a nearby table.

While he is careful with you, there is an underlying harshness you notice in his gaze. That fire from earlier is still there. It’s like Thorin needs to punish you, or consume you, make you bend to him until you’re nothing but a perfect, pliant thing under his hands. The idea of it warms you between your legs. Your thighs rub together and there is no hiding how slick you are.

Thorin pushes your legs apart and steps between them. He starts at your knees, then your thighs, hips, and up the sides of your body until his hands grip the front of your dress.

“I’m feeling impatient,” he says, before putting all his strength behind his next movement.

With two quick jerks, Thorin rips the front of your bodice open, tearing the dress cleanly in two. Before you can even utter a verbal protest, Thorin’s lips are pressing against yours in a demanding, hungry kiss.

“I’ll buy you more,” he murmurs before his hands return to your body, this time caressing bare thigh. His touch is a forge fire, and you burn, surrendering to him as you begin to fall back against the table, legs widening as he settles between them.

You moan as Thorin kisses his way up your leg and to the inside of your thigh. Every brush of his lips sends pulses of heat from his mouth to your pussy.

“Please,” you whimper as Thorin’s lips brush against the spot that’s aching for his touch. “Please.”

“Tell me,” he says, the pad of his thumb parting you. “Is this for me?”

“Yes,” you reply as you hear just how wet you are.

“Only me?”

“Yes,” you say again, voice nearly breaking as he strokes over you.

Thorin’s hands grip your hips and tug you closer to the edge of the table. Then he pushes your legs wide open until the insides of your thighs feel stretched. He drags his fingertips through your wetness.

Your soft moan becomes a strangled gasp as he licks a wide stripe up your sex. Mewling with pleasure, you grab at him, one hand tugging on the neckline of his tunic, the other digging against the table.

“Delicious,” he groans. The tip of his tongue circles your clit, and without thinking, you pull hard on him, ripping some of the fabric.

His hand snatches your wrist. Thorin guides it down to the side of your thigh. Then, he grabs the other one. Does the same. With one hand, Thorin keeps your hands from straying. His grip is unyielding, and while you tug a bit, you meet firm resistance.

Thorin shakes his head. Then his head dips back between your legs, and you’re completely lost to him. Your eyelids flutter shut as he sucks your clit and traces around your entrance with a free finger. Then he presses in, and you groan loudly.

“Mine?”

“Yours.”

Thorin is inserting a second finger, pumping them in and out of you as his tongue laps at your clit. The coiling tension within your core twists tighter with every drag of his fingers and each swipe of his tongue.

Thorin curls his fingers and your back arches off the table. You feel his grin, and then he stays the course, working you at that perfect pace until you fall apart around him, crying out his name, the sound echoing around the room.

Thorin retreats but he does not back away. Instead, his mouth is on your bare skin, biting and sucking, leaving marks behind as he trails up your body. They are harsh, demanding, possessive marks of ownership. Rarely is Thorin ever like this, but he does not stop until he makes it to your mouth, sliding his tongue inside so that you can taste yourself.

This lingering moment is short. The second Thorin breaks the kiss, he undoes the front of his buckle, and the two of you are desperately pushing it away.

When Thorin slides in, you both moan loudly. You fall back against the table, clinging to his arms as he sets a pounding, steady pace that rocks the table. Each thrust makes the wood vibrate at the legs scrape across the stone floor. This a frenzied mating. A dire need. Whatever has possessed Thorin makes him hungry for you in a way you’ve rarely seen him.

His next thrust hits deep, and the friction is intense, pulling the coil tighter again until you’re keening, leaning up from the table as your body squeezes around him. That orgasm breaks him. His resolve snaps, and then you’re trapped beneath him, your fingernails digging into his skin as Thorin takes for himself.

He groans, leans forward, forehead resting against your own as he finishes. You feel it pooling within you, threatening to escape the moment he pulls away.

“I heard that you spent most of the day with a man,” murmurs Thorin, his nose lightly brushing against yours.

The middle of your brow scrunches in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would that upset you?”

“It was reported to me that the relationship seemed…close.”

Frowning, you think back to the events of the day. You consider every place you visited and everyone you talked to. As you shuffle through all the possibilities, you pause on one, and then laugh so hard you snort.

“What?” he asks, drawing back slightly.

“Did the person reporting on me mention that man was my older brother?”

The tops of Thorin’s cheeks turn a bright red. “They—no. They failed to mention that.”

While part of you is annoyed that Thorin would immediately gravitate toward the worst, you also know that he’s under immense stress, the kind that might tear away and chip at his own confidence.

“Next time, when someone tells you something like that again, what are going to do?”

“Talk to you first,” he replies, his cheeks growing even redder.

“Although, I did like this.” You emphasize your meaning by rolling your hips, moving along his softening length. “Perhaps I should be a little friendly with an actual stranger. What will that get me?” you tease.

Thorin drags you off the table and into his arms. “That’ll get you bent over the nearest surface.”

“Is that a promise, my king?”

“Willing to test me?”

You grin, knowing that you certainly will.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @mrsdurin @therealbloom @ninman82

#thorin oakenshield fic #thorin oakenshield fanfic #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thorin oakenshield smut #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x f!reader #thorin oakenshield x female reader #thorin oakenshield x fem!reader #thorin fic #thorin fanfiction #thorin fanfic #thorin x reader #thorin x f!reader #thorin x fem!reader #thorin x female reader #thorin x you #thorin smut #king thorin #the hobbit smut #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit movies #the hobbit imagine #erebor

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Amralizi - Thorin Oakenshield X Female Reader

Title: Amralizi

Thorin Oakenshield X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Balin, Fili, Kili, the rest of The Company (Mentioned), Rivendell (Mentioned), and Reader's mother (Mentioned)

WC: 1,563

Warnings: Nervousness, awkwadness, embarassment, mention of blood, mention of death, crying, slight angst, and huge fluff

Thorin watched you across from the fire. His deep blue eyes watching your every move as you brushed your hair. It was long, and looked soft, Thorin couldn't help but stare and wonder if it was as soft as it looked. You had joined the company in Rivendell, a human among elves. Thorin didn't understand it. But, you were a beauty in Thorin's eyes. You looked like a goddess, even covered in orc blood. He watched as you placed your brush down, carding your fingers through your hair one last time. Thorin's heart pounded with each beat of his chest, feeling his hands begin to sweat.

Making sure there weren't any stray knots, you dropped your hands into your lap, sighing. It had been a long day, traveling for hours and slaying orcs along the way. The company had made camp in the small mountains, hoping they could get some sleep before more of the journey ahead. You stretched out your arms above your head, groaning as you did so. Your arms and legs ached. Well, everything ached. You were tired, and just wanted to sleep. Finally, you slid down on your bedroll, covering yourself with a small fur blanket, before finally drifting off to sleep.

Thorin sighed, feeling a presence beside him, Thorin turned to glance at Balin before turning back to your sleeping figure.

"You like her?" Balin asked softly, but it sounded more like a fact than a question.

"Yes," Thorin breathed, glancing over at you again. "I'm sure she's my One."

"I see." Balin replied, looking away from Thorin, gazing out into the dark night. "She's a human, Thorin."

Thorin scoffed. "It doesn't matter what she is."

Balin shifted uncomfortably before whispering. "You'll outlive her."

Thorin didn't speak, staring into the dying embers of the fire instead.

"I've heard humans only live up to their eighties or nineties." Balin began, before sighing, "And, you know how long we live."

Thorin nodded slowly, "Even if I do outlive her," He said quietly, "I would never leave her side."

Balin nodded, pursed lips, before looking into the fire himself, "If you are sure... You should tell her."

Thorin's breath caught, he started to speak, but stopped himself. A thousand different things ran through his mind. There was no chance that you felt the same way he did. It was an impossible thought to have. But, he saw it in your eyes when you looked at him, when you were near him. He knew that you were drawn to him, and he was drawn to you. You always stood beside him, walked beside him, fought beside him. Though, he didn't know if what you felt was friendship or love.

"I will." Thorin whispered, smiling gently. "In due time, though."

"Alright then," Balin nodded, "Good luck."

~~~

The net morning, you awoke bright and early, immediately you began to roll up your mat and folded your blanket and tying it to the mat and in your backpack it went. Searching around for your brush, you couldn't find it. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering where your brush had gone off to. Sitting down, slightly defeated, you huffed. Running your fingers through your hair, you cringed when you hit a few knots.

Thorin stood up from his spot, taking a deep breath before waking over to you. His hands began to sweat and his heart began to beat faster than ever before. Pausing beside you, you looked up, smiling a little.

"Good morning, Thorin. Are we heading out?" You asked and Thorin shook his head.

"We'll be staying a little longer today. I heard Bombur and Bifur were going to make breakfast."

You nodded, "I can't wait. Is there anything else, Thorin?" You asked, noticing as the king continued to stand by you.

"Yes, I noticed that you were having trouble with your hair." He spoke, sitting down on a log beside you.

You nodded, frowning slightly, "Yes, I must have misplaced my brush last night."

Thorin chuckled a bit, "Well, if you're looking for a new one, I have one in my pack." He said, reaching inside his own bag and pulling out a very large hairbrush.

"You brush your hair?" You teased, giggling softly as Thorin blushed.

"Yes... Sometimes." He spoke, "May I... May I brush your hair?" He asked,

You smiled warmly, "Of course, Thorin."

He picked up the brush, feeling his face burn and heart quicken.

Clearing his throat, he gestured to the log, "I'll sit on the log, and you can sit in front of me."

You agreed, moving onto the soft grass, where you leaned your back against Thorin's knees. Stroking your hair with the bristles, he sighed happily. Holding your hair gently in his other hand, Thorin skillfully brushed through your many knots. You leaned into him, sighing as he worked.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. It was peaceful, and you felt safe. Feeling as Thorin finished brushing and ran his fingers through your hair, the tips of his fingers scratching your scalp lightly. He was amazed at how soft and beautiful your hair was.

"May I... Braid your hair?" Thorin asked softly, gazing longingly at the back of your head.

You bit your lip, keeping your eyes closed.

"Of course," You mumbled, opening your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Thorin leaned forward, untucking strands of your hair from behind your ear, sectioning three pieces of your gorgeous locks. Breathing deeply, he began to braid your hair. Some of the dwarves, busy with whatever they were doing, paused. They all froze when they saw Thorin braiding your hair.

"Uncle!" Fili called to Thorin, as Kili stood next to his brother carrying sticks in his arms from the nearby woods.

Thorin glanced up to his nephews before continuing his braiding. You slowly opened your eyes, noticing the dumbfounded and in awe face of your dwarven friends.

"What's wrong, boys?" You asked, as if nothing was amiss.

"Nothing..." Kili spoke, his voice wavering as he tried not to laugh.

Fili snorted, "We'll get more sticks."

Most of the dwarves left the clearing, Balin giving you and Thorin a smile before following.

Finishing his braid, Thorin pulled out one of his beads, clasping it to your braid, tying it off.

"Do you know what braiding means in Dwarven culture?" Thorin asked, voice still soft, not wanting to break the peace.

You hummed, turning around to face Thorin. Sitting on the ground, and him on the log, you were eye to eye.

"Braided hair is a sign of love." You said, "A symbol of courtship."

"Ah." Thorin replied, smiling faintly.

He didn't think that you would know. You gently took his large hands in yours, caressing his calloused palms.

"Why do you want to court me? When you could have anyone you wish?" You muttered, keeping your eyes on his boots.

Thorin laughed a little bit, "You're my One, amrâlimê." He said, "I don't care if I'd have to fight a hundred Orcs to get you, you're worth it."

You smiled light, feeling as Thorin let go of your hand you cup your cheek, lifting your head to look up at him. His eyes met yours, and you felt your breath catch in your lungs. You felt your heartbeat pound loudly in your ears. You gazed into his eyes, feeling your heart race as you stared at him.

"Even if we don't have much time. I want to be with you... Please, amrâlimê."

You leaned into his touch, placing your own hand over his. "I may have lied to you when we first met." You began, before casting your gaze away and biting your lip.

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked, gently rubbing his thumb against your soft cheek.

You cleared your throat, looking down at his feet instead of his eyes. "I'm only half human."

Thorin paused for a moment, "Half?"

You laughed a little sadly, "I'm half elf. My mother is from Rivendell." You shut your eyes tight.

"I was scared that if I told you before that you wouldn't let me join. I know of your hate of elves." You sighed, "Just please, if this is real... If you turn me away, I..." You couldn't finish, tears rushed down your cheeks.

You were surprised when Thorin wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You cried softly in his chest as he held you.

"Shh," He murmured, kissing your forehead. "I could never do that. Not to you, amrâlimê."

Pulling away slightly, you looked into his deep blue eyes. "Really? You don't hate me?"

Thorin shook his head, "I could never. And, if you allow me, I would like to make you my Queen."

You smiled, wiping away the tears from your face. "Yes, Thorin. Yes."

Thorin held you closer, stroking your hair. Looking into your eyes, he licked his lip before leaning in. His lips gently pressed against yours, and you moaned softly. Thorin kissed you passionately, pressing his body against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your hands through his hair as he growled lightly. Thorin broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he stared at you, fingers fiddling with the courtship braid in your hair, so much love in his eyes.

"Amralizi, Y/N." Thorin sighed, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

"I love you too." You smiled, kissing him again.

______________________________________________

Amralime = My love

Amralizi = I love you

#thorin oakenshield #thorin durin #thorin imagine #thorin x you #thorin x y/n #the hobbit #fluff #cute #slight angst #thorin x female reader #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin oakenshield x female reader

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Of needles and thread

Happy Birthday @linasofia 🎂

Here's the winner of the pick-a-fic...

Words: 4,3 k

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, unprotected intercourse, oral sex

You were about to close shop – the elderly dwarrow who was your colleague and boss having left almost an hour ago already – when the door swung open in a gust of cold wind that sent the swatches you had left on the counter flying into different directions.

“Mahal have mercy,” you muttered under your breath and came up from behind said counter to check who dared bother you this late.

“My king,” you gasped upon seeing Thorin II, standing tall and slightly sheepish on the threshold, tugging at his coat that had caught on a beam just outside the door where you usually hung freshly washed linens to dry.

Ah, the life of a draper, you thought, even though you liked to think of yourself as a designer and excellent seamstress beyond the mundane task of providing the dwarves of Erebor with their sturdy but boring tunics.

“Mistress…Dori said I could come anytime I cared to, but I see now that he has retreated to his own chambers already. I shall disturb you no further, please forgive me for the intrusion," the king spoke in a calm, perfectly paced flow of carefully articulated words.

Even his speech was regal, you realised with a hint of envy; from his deportment to the tips of his boots, he radiated self-possessed elegance while – by this time – there was more of your hair out of its bun than in it which made you look like a demented bird with part of its nest carried on its head.

“No,” you exclaimed hastily, “no, come in, your Highness. What can our humble shop do for you?”

“Well,” the king started, audibly scratching his beard with the short the nails of his index and middle finger pensively, “Nori told Dwalin – you know Dwalin? Big fellow, taciturn, and quite annoying if truth be told – during one of their…meetings that his brother, Nori’s brother not Dwalin’s, made much more interesting tunics than any we owned…”

Thorin fell silent as if he had exhausted himself by giving you this very detailed but utterly confusing explanation.

“Either way, Dwalin has decided to order some and my sister – Dís, do you know her? – thought I should have new tunics as well.”

You didn’t have it in you to tell your king that you had no idea who he was talking about as you had only just started working in this shop over a year ago and had not yet had the opportunity to meet many high dignitaries.

“Come through, Your Majesty,” you bid him humbly.

“Thorin will do, just Thorin, I am not a number!” he smiled smoothly and walked towards the back of the shop with careless grace.

With a small shake of the head, you locked the door, drew the blinds, and turned off the main lights before following him; it felt illicit and exciting to be alone in this small space with the most handsome male dwarf you could even think of.

Trying hard not to fall over your own feet, you unrolled the measuring tape and – holding one end in your fingers – wrapped that hand around his sturdy wrist while letting the other slide along the thick sleeve of the coat he was wearing.

“I am ever so sorry my…Thorin,” you could have kicked yourself for the way your mind and mouth derailed in his presence, “but if you could please take off the coat…”

With an easy shrug of his shoulders, Thorin discarded the said garment and threw it over a low chair on which more swatches were piled high.

A knowing half-smile blossomed on his features as he saw you bite your lip upon repeating the measuring-procedure with meticulous care.

“Hmmm,” you hummed and made a show of jotting down the numbers on a little notepad as if you would not remember them by heart from this day forward.

Measuring out the width of his shoulders was a forbidden pleasure, your fingertips grazing along the strong muscles rolling like waves under his thin – and honestly indeed rather worn – light blue tunic.

“Hold still,” you grunted out of habit, distracted by your work.

“Sorry, Milady,” he chuckled, and you groaned under your breath. Of course, he was not a random customer, how could you dare chide him like that?

“How long do you want this tunic to be?” you asked politely as you walked around the little pedestal on which he was standing, surrounded by a three-sided mirror that you polished every morning and every evening devotedly.

“I think…here,” his broad but surprisingly elegant hand – priceless rings glistening in the overhead light – came to rest, palm up, on his thigh, his fingers pointing right at his crotch.

Oh Mahal, you did not really think that, did you?

“Alright,” you tried to sound cheery and light-hearted as you measured the distance between the centre of his shoulder and that tantalising point where the edge of his hand met his strong thigh.

“Curse the waters that made all the others grow,” you muttered under your breath as you realised that you’d have to practically hug him diagonally to get the measurement.

“I can hold this for you, Mistress,” Thorin chuckled and – before you could refuse or accept – his other hand slid over yours and clasped the measuring tape in place on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Your…Thorin,” you babbled and frowned when he laughed mirthfully.

“No, Mistress, I have no problem with being your Thorin, but I am most certainly not mine,” he mocked you gently, tilting his head the fraction of an inch to make sure that you realised that he had not meant it in an offensive way.

“Don’t shift, please,” you immediately reproved him, and his head snapped up with military precision. Staring straight ahead and looking dignified was a skill he had acquired early in his life it seemed and perfected since.

Bending over to read the tiny numbers on your tape just inches away from those enticing fingertips pointing at his loins shamelessly, you tried hard to ignore the indecent position in which you found yourself and to disregard what the two of you might have looked like to anyone who happened to enter.

No, the door was locked, and it felt as if you were alone in the world.

“Quite enthralling…do you ever stand here, Mistress, and admire yourself in the mirrors?”

For a moment, you were not sure if you had merely imagined his words, but when you rolled the tape up again, his eyes twinkled mischievously as he nodded at the mirror right in front of him.

“No, Thorin, I have too much work and too little vanity for such things,” you spoke decisively; in your mind, you were already drawing up patterns and decorations for the deep, dark blue tunic you had in mind.

A garment fit for a king.

“Humour me,” he murmured seductively, pulling you by the hand up on the pedestal while he stepped down from it and making you swirl slowly.

You felt silly; you knew that the lights and the angling of the mirrors were carefully arranged so as to maximise the beautifying effect on your customers, but you had not been lying when you had said that you’d never tried it yourself.

A gasp escaped you as his hands undid the disintegrating bun and let your long, stubborn hair cascade around your aching shoulders.

“You’re quite a sight, Mistress,” he praised you in a low, velvety tone that caressed your senses like the fabric made your fingers tingle whenever you worked with it.

“Oh, stop it,” you tried to deflect, but his fingers had slid inside your collar, rubbing the thin linen slowly as if to test the thread-count.

As your gaze flew back to your reflection, you discovered that your eyes seemed darker and somehow more intense as the nightly darkness pressed in – only kept at bay by the pale cone of flatteringly soft light raining down on you from above.

“Are ladies’ garments much more complex than men’s?” he asked, still pretending that this was a normal business interaction even while his fingers skimmed down your spine.

From your vantage point, you could only see his broad shoulders peeking out on either side of your back while his amused voice seemed to float – disembodied – around you until it filled the whole room as well as every nook and cranny of your befuddled mind.

His presence was like the incense your grandmother had used on special days, intoxicating and dizzying in its intensity that made your thoughts blur and drift.

Heat swirled in heavy, snaking tendrils through your body as his hands slipped around your waist and started tracing the gentle slope ever so slowly.

“Did you make this bodice?” he asked in a low, guttural voice while your whole conscience seemed to be drawn to the areas where his palms seemed to singe the fabric covering your smouldering skin.

“I did,” you stammered, your own voice a mere breathy whisper suspended in the semi-darkness of the workshop.

“I might have to inspect that garment…just to get a feeling for your talent and craftsmanship,” he chuckled, one finger slipping easily under the strings of said bodice and undoing the tight knots with dizzying rapidity and ease.

As it fell – as if undone by mischievous ghosts – at your feet, you could see the outline of your bare breasts through the worn tunic; you had neither the time, the money, nor the inclination to fashion clothes for your own enjoyment.

There was something strangely arousing about seeing yourself exposed in this way though and as his hands appeared again from behind, cupping those barely clothed mounds of flesh teasingly, your head dropped back to rest on his shoulder.

“No, Mistress,” he hummed, “lift your head and look at yourself! See how beautiful you are!”

Oh, but it was so heavy, filled with indecent thoughts while your body was abuzz with the tingling sensation of his broad thumbs being dragged across the oversensitive buds pressing eagerly against the thin fabric.

Within a second or two, your heavy skirt was undone as well and pooled like a lake of wool around your ankles.

You had strong legs that shone white in the soft light wavering and flickering, or maybe it was just your own mind that was vibrating and vacillating with illicit desire and the light was as constant as the moon itself.

“You are beautiful,” he repeated as his hand slipped underneath the tunic, rubbing the fabric for a moment as if he really was inspecting its quality before his palm came – burning as hot iron – to rest against your somersaulting stomach.

“Look at yourself,” he repeated authoritatively as he pushed the flimsy garment up and tugged it over your head, laying your upper body bare.

“My king,” you sighed, half-frightened and half-frantic with lust already.

“No doubt, you want to keep yourself pure for your husband,” he hummed, “but there are things we can do in the meantime.”

Your body was burning for him and – of that much you were sure – nobody could have faulted you for giving in to your king; it was your duty as a good subject, was it not?

“Let me touch you, Mistress…Will you?” he asked, his breath hot and humid against your upper back which made you jerk forward, pressing your breasts eagerly into his questing palms.

“Whatever you want, my king,” you replied breathlessly.

“Call me Thorin,” he whispered, “and tell me that you want this!”

So honourable, you thought with a pang of bad conscience, for this meant that you would have to give voice to your most indecent needs and desires.

“I want this, I want you,” you moaned, arching into his seeking, almost tender touch, your eyes riveted on his massive hands curled around those virginal breasts no man had ever touched before.

“Will you look at yourself for me?” he inquired on, his thumbs now hooked into the waistband of your drawers, tugging at them playfully.

“I shall do whatever you want me to do,” you answered in a shivering sigh.

“I am not your king now,” Thorin growled, “and I am as much at your mercy than the other way around.”

He gave your undergarment another tentative tug, “May I?”

You merely nodded, making the haze in your mind swirl and billow like silk in the wind, eager to see where he would lead you.

Naked and trembling with anticipation, you stared at your own reflection just a heartbeat later.

Had you ever looked quite as beautiful in the pale, grey morning light or in the golden rays of the midday sun? You could not remember but you surely could perceive it now – late at night in a closed room – as his hands slid over your skin like Dori’s caressed the expensive silk brought in from faraway lands.

Appreciative and careful, Thorin seemed to map out every dip and curve of your silhouette with his fingers and – from time to time – you caught a flash of his bright blue eyes in the mirror as he peeked over your shoulder to watch himself explore your body and tease shivering sighs and surprised moans out of you.

It was a strange game that made your knees quiver: those seemingly disembodied hands were coaxing the most outlandish sensations out of your body and soul while you could but watch and react.

You almost forgot that it was the king himself who was playing you as if you were that mystical harp people said he owned and mastered.

Tension rose inside of you until you felt like a piece of cloth yourself, torn and tattered, knotted and twisted to the point of tearing, and your jaw clenched around all the pleas you knew to be indecent to even voice in private.

“Say it!” he demanded as your thighs clenched helplessly around that ball of fire that had been hitherto so utterly unknown to you; it was as if he could read your need in the undulations of your tortured flesh.

“I want you to touch me,” you assured him in a single gust of hot breath that almost sounded like a sob.

His hand plunged between your legs and – automatically – you spread your thighs wider to accommodate the sheer width of it as his fingers ghosted ever so lightly over that fleshy seam that covered the hot, humid pocket of your core.

With a whine, you tilted your hips, urging him on, demanding more of something you didn’t even understand while never taking your eyes off the mirror in front of you.

You looked positively feral; your eyes were ablaze with a fire you had never known yourself to possess, and your skin seemed to glow golden with the beating, thrumming urgency that drowned out every sensible thought in your mind.

“Oh, Mistress,” he muttered, low in his chest, turning you around suddenly and pressing his hot lips onto yours.

His hands clamped around your waist again as his breath gusted into your mouth, making you dizzy with a need you could not fully understand.

“I need…” you whimpered, your thighs clenching and unclenching rhythmically as if to demand that his warm, teasing fingers return to that secret garden of yours.

With a slightly blurry smile, Thorin divested himself of his own tunic and slipped out of his trousers as if they were poison ivy.

“Oh Mahal,” you sighed upon discovering the bulge extending his undergarments almost grotesquely.

Before you could say anything more, he had stepped out of those as well and turned you back to the mirror, pressing his heat against you as his fingers slid through the damp curls of your mound.

A tiny cry fell from your lips like dew from a rose petal as he parted your flesh and lightly grazed the tip of his index over the pearl hidden within a shell that had been unbreeched before this day.

“More,” you demanded, twitching and jerking like a puppet on a string as his caresses became increasingly insistent, drumming up a storm within your skin.

Blinding light burst into flames behind your lids, and you felt as if you were pulled taut like a thread after the final stitch and melted like sealing wax over a candle at the same time.

“Look at yourself,” Thorin demanded again, and you lifted your head to stare blindly at the wild-eyed creature that wore your skin but looked nothing like you with its glowing halo of pure bliss and its feline grin.

You no longer wanted to see your own fall from grace and so, you moved to turn but his hands kept you in place; you knew what he’d ask of you.

Your lips felt numb and swollen from his kisses as you parted them slowly to moan his name, begging him to let you see him instead of that stranger in the mirror.

Mahal, he was glorious; whoever had fashioned that suit he had been born with was a dress maker whose talent and vision far surpassed your own: every rope of muscle, every stitch of hair, every embroidery of veins and tendons was utter perfection.

“You look weak, Mistress,” that voice – a blend of smooth silk and raspy velvet – purred into your ear, “why don’t you sit down?”

Vaguely nodding, you let him guide you down until the backsides of your legs touched the cold wood of the small dais.

For a moment, you thought that you could ground yourself but – as he knelt between your open thighs – the king started peppering nipping kisses along the curve of your hip, and your mind went blank.

What fabrics you had felt run like rivers between your fingertips and along your bare skin and yet, none compared to the feeling of his beard against the most delicate parts of your flesh as his tongue dove – pointed as a needle – into you, piercing your flesh without ever breaking your skin.

“My king,” you panted, the fire within you blazing with a ferocity that positively turned you into a hazard in a place such as this.

Colours and textures exploded behind your heavy lids, the wood supporting you melting like chocolate, until his hands on your waist were the only anchor tethering you to the real world.

“I am sorry,” he chuckled darkly against your skin, “but you looked so beautiful.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you sighed. This was a lie for Thorin II had ruined your marital prospects in ways he could not even fathom; you would never forget or be content with anything less than the level of devotion and passion he had just lavished on you.

“Well, did you get the measurements?” he asked while rising, a bit awkwardly, and scanning the room for his tunic that had been so cavalierly discarded before.

“Not yet,” you smiled, a surge of confidence driving you ever on.

Pushing yourself up quickly, you forced him down in the very spot you had been sitting in only a moment prior – as a treacherous wet mark on the worn wood betrayed – and got your measuring tape back out.

“Mistress?” Thorin asked breathlessly as you sank onto your own knees before him, “This seems hardly necessary for a tunic.”

When you dropped the tape and clawed your fingers into his thighs though, the soft joking tone drained out of his voice as rapidly as the iridescent water from the dying tubs.

“Oh,” he moaned, his hips bucking towards you, desperate for a relief his pride wouldn’t let him beg for.

Thankfully for him, you were a much less cruel and masterful person than him, so you bent your neck – a movement and position well known to you as you had spent many an hour hunched over finest needlework – and lapped up the single drop of clear fluid beading at the top of his cock like a pearl of dew clinging to a blossom.

His strangled, throaty cry was all the encouragement you needed to plunge forward and – while your fingers caressed him in carding, threading, teasing motions – you lapped and sucked at the engorged, angrily throbbing member in front of you shamelessly.

He was beautiful in ways that defied your very understanding of what the world was made of; you - who had thought that it was a badly stitched together construct of discarded linen - came to discover the finest materials imaginable as you tightened your grip ever further around his strong thighs.

His breathing became more laboured by the second, gusting like the bellows of the great forges down your neck as he bent over you to caress your back tenderly.

These fingers of yours that threaded needles as fine as hairs through the most delicate of fabrics were now in constant movement as you endeavoured to give your king as much pleasure as you could.

You had ever believed him to be a passionate man, but the way his thighs quivered and his teeth clamped around curses and words of endearment showed you that you didn’t even begin to fathom the depths of either the meaning of the word or the sensations themselves that swirled through Thorin like fire and smoke.

Nobody would ever compare to him, you thought once more - almost disgusted by that discovery - as his fingers dug deep into your hair to find purchase while the world around you fell away.

“Do you…” he moaned, “do you want me to finish like this?”

You were not entirely sure what he was talking about, but - just for good measure - you redoubled your efforts, hollowing your cheeks further to create even more suction which made his words melt into a groan that could have expressed either deep delight or torturous pain.

“I guess,” he panted, “this would be better; you’d want to be married one day and that gift I’ve but tasted is your husband’s to win.”

He would not claim your virginity, but he had taken your innocence from you; the veil had lifted, and you could see the world as it was - in its monstruous, terrible glory - and nobody would ever manage to turn back time.

Suddenly, he arched – like the string of a bow being pulled back – and whatever intimate arrow had been nocked deep within him was let loose and hit the back of your throat in a stream of salty warmth.

The low, long-drawn, hoarse cry that seemed to both announce and applaud said explosion made your skin thrum with exaltation; you had done well and the prostrate body of your ruler - spread out like a sheet of the most exquisite satin - gave you a pleasure exceeding even the one you felt when looking upon a job well-finished.

“Oh Mistress,” he sighed before pressing a warm, affectionate kiss onto the crown of your head.

Somehow, that gesture of profound tenderness hit you harder than all the illicit, forbidden things you had shared in this forlorn room just moments ago; being the unwitting plaything of a royal was a fate that befell many a maiden all over the world, but to be treated lovingly came with risks of the heart and the soul far more dangerous for they could have much more grievous consequences.

“I shall have your tunic ready for a first fitting in a fortnight’s time,” you whispered, picking up your measuring tape to busy your hands lest they return to his warm skin like a dog ran back to its master.

“Shall I see you for the fitting?” the king asked in a slightly mischievous tone, “Royal business keeps me relatively busy, and I’d be ever so thankful if you could see me after hours?”

You understood only too well what he was saying - barely hidden beneath his seemingly nonchalant question - and you blushed; the fire between your legs had not simmered down yet and you knew that - had he asked you in this very second - you would have agreed to give him what he would not demand of you.

Maybe, you would never marry, and that sacrifice would be brought willingly if only you could have him; you desired him like a person underwater yearned for air, or like a starving wretch longed for a single morsel of breath.

He drove you not only to distraction but to despair; there was nary a thing you would not have forsaken in this very second to keep him by your side, to feel his massive weight pin you to the dais like an insect onto a piece of cork, and to have him conquer your body with that tempestuous ardour that would fan the embers into roaring flames.

“I’ll be here,” you whispered, “and I’ll be waiting for you.”

His index and thumb closed gently around your chin as he purred warningly: “This is dangerous, Mistress, and you stand to lose more than you realise now.”

“It won’t matter,” you replied calmly, “it will be worth it, Your Majesty.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, but his eyes were alight in the shadow of the overhead light source as he shook his head darkly; he wanted you as well, you could smell it, you could taste it still on your tongue, and you could feel it in the way his fingers quirked on your skin even now.

“In a fortnight,” he repeated ominously before collecting and redonning his discarded clothes and leaving the shop without turning around.

“In a fortnight,” you sighed and started cleaning away every treacherous proof of what had transpired between you and your late-time customer.

The days couldn’t fly by fast enough, you thought, as you watched him go.

So, this was the smutty short :D

I hope you all enjoyed this, if so, do not hesitate to leave me a small comment :D

Thank you ❤️

Taglist :

@blairsanne

@narniaandthenorth

@fizzyxcustard

@laurfilijames

@myselfandfantasy

@legolasbadass

@linasofia

@lathalea

@midearthwritings

@guardianofrivendell

@mismaeve

@middleearthpixie

#fanfiction #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #*NSFW #*SMUT #thorin x reader #thorin x female reader #lots of citrus thingies #seamstress smut #long time coming #pick-a-fic winner

[faeriichaii]

There's just inches in between us ~ Thorin x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ok so I just am really obsessed with that one juicy part from the song shameless (I actually don't like the song I just literally listen to that one part on loop) and I immediately thought about Thorin so I guess that's his song now :p Also I literally never have written any kind of smut in my life before so this is totally new 😔😔 I really hope you guys like it!! And have fun 🥰

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Smut with plot (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Fingering Kinda enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kinda fluff?? ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 4.1k (oops lmao) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: No :) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Amrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You were the princess of another kingdom, meant to marry none other than the dwarven King Thorin from the lonely mountain. You rarely get the chance to talk to him and decide to visit him the night before the wedding, asking him to give you some attention.

The carriage, you were sitting in was rocking from side to side as you slowly approached your destination. Your hands holding tightly onto the dark green dress you were wearing. Gold details were stitched delicately on the upper half of the garment, making up swirls, as well as flowers. You tried to pretend to be listening to your father, who still was talking about your upcoming marriage. Arranged marriage. Your father set up an arranged marriage between your kingdom and Erebor. The thought of being wed to an unknown man made your stomach churn. “(Y/N) are you listening? This is very important for you to know and accept.” “My king, I apologize for my rudeness but I do not wish to hear anymore about this matter.” You were beyond upset and hurt about the decision your father, the king of Thuiniel, took without even your consent. It’s not like he needed consent. A warning would have been nice. Any kind of sign so you would have known that you will move away from home. So you would have known that you will no longer be a free woman and instead be the wife of another king. So you would have known that you will become a queen to an unknown kingdom.

Your fathers’ eyes mustered you sadly, understanding your attitude towards him. “(Y/N), I know you are hurt and I know you are mad at me, however you yourself know that it will be the best for the kingdom.” The kingdom. During the years, Thuiniel has seen and faced a major number of wars. Most of them went well for you, however nowadays the kingdom is in need of support from anyone they can get. Your two older sisters have been married for years to different parts of Middle-Earth, which resulted in an alliance between these three kingdoms. But even they can’t constantly send support towards Thuiniel. So your father decided to search for another alliance that can give him the resources he needs. And this resulted in you receiving the news just a week prior to the wedding.

A sigh left your lips as you looked out of the small window in the carriage. Trees were lining the path you were traveling on. Your gaze settled on the palace that was built deep into the mountain. “Do you know any important information about Erebor?” You asked your father, eyes still locked on your destination. Normally you would have looked into various books and scrolls in your library before travelling to another kingdom, but the news of your marriage shocked you so immensely, that you already despised everything that had anything to do with it. “Erebor is known for their massive mine, as well as the various jewels and gold they keep deep inside of the mountain.” A hum left your lips as you tried to remember the words you father continued to spill about your future kingdom.

A sudden jolt of the carriage made you realize that you just arrived at your destination. The wooden door opened as a hand was held inside. Your father stood up, took the hand and left you alone in the carriage. You took a deep breath before following your father out of the small compartment. Once outside, you looked around at the trees and the nature surrounding the palace, before focusing on your future home. Home. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue. “King Thorin Oakenshield, it is very nice to make your acquaintance.” Your father said, before bowing down in front of a dwarf. “Let me introduce you to my lovely daughter, princess (Y/N). Your soon-to-be-wife.” Thorin looked at you before giving you a short nod. You bit your tongue, in order to not snap at his attitude towards you. Taking the material of your dress in your hand, you curtsied and whispered a soft ‘It is nice to make your acquaintance’ towards the king.

After the short introduction, you were shown around the castle as well as parts of the mine underground. The king however was not in attendance. Night approached quickly and you excused yourself after dinner to finally get some alone time in your chambers. On your way you stumbled upon the library of Erebor. Deciding to take a peek, you opened the door. Books and scrolls were lining the shelves of the room. A dwarf was in front of one of the shelves, his attention now on you instead of the book in his hands. “You must be our future queen. Welcome to the palace’s library.” He bowed down in front of you. “My name is Balin, how can I help you?” “Please just call me (Y/N). You smiled softly at the nice man. “I was wondering if you have any good books about Erebor? I should have informed myself about the kingdom before my arrival but I had… difficulties.” “Of course (Y/N). Let’s see…” He was walking around the room, taking the ladder attached to the shelf with him. “Ah this should be a good start.” His hands grabbed a thick leather-bound book that has the words ‘History of the lonely Mountain’ in gold etched into it. Taking it in your own hand you thanked him, before leaving and trying to find your chambers once more.

A yawn left your lips as you quietly ate your breakfast. You have read a little more than you would like to admit and totally forgot the time yesterday night. The history written down in the book completely captivating you. Your gaze fell from your father to the other few people who were chatting happily with each other, until your eyes stopped at the man who sat on your right. Your soon-to-be-husband. His hair was braided on each side of his face. You remember reading about some of the customs of dwarven culture and how important their hair (beard included) is to them. You take a sip of the tea that was specifically prepared for you, trying to stifle another yawn.

“Have you not slept enough?” Thorin asks from beside you his voice a slight hint of irritation. Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance at his question. “My apologies my king, I lost track of the time yesterday.” “What have you been reading?” Cutting into the eggs that were served in front of you, you took a big bite. “I have been reading about the History of Erebor. As a future Queen I would like to learn as much about my kingdom as I can.” “How come you did not study about the kingdom before your arrival?” Setting down your cutlery, you looked at him with annoyance. One of his eyebrows was raised as he waited for your answer. Was he mocking you? “I did not have enough time to remember all the details from Erebor. Especially because a certain someone wished for the marriage to happen as soon as possible.” Your father had told you that normally you would have a few months in advance to get to know your husband and roughly around a year for the marriage. However, Thorin apparently requested that the marriage happens as soon as possible, which resulted in the date being set in a month from now on. After hearing the news, you didn’t just simply dislike your husband but despised him. You still were mad at your father after he told you this new information yesterday, however your hate now mostly lay on Thorins shoulders.

The entire table was quiet as the air went heavy around the two of you. “The reason behind the date being set in a month is to ensure the safety of Thuiniel. Another war could be right around the corner and I would not wish to risk another empire be taken over by Orcs while I am getting married.” Anger flickered in his gaze. You continue eating your breakfast, not wanting to fuel the fire by arguing against the king. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally left the dinner room behind you, followed by your father. “(Y/N) we urgently need to talk.” He takes your arm and pulls you into his chambers. “Have you lost your mind?!” He angrily exclaims, flailing his arms around while walking up and down. “Father, I apologize but he just-“ “No! (Y/N) take a moment to think about your actions! Erebor was the best candidate for an alliance with our kingdom. This alliance can ensure the safety for several decades! You, arguing with the king, could result in him not being interested in the marriage anymore and Thuiniel falling into the hands of Orcs!” You bit down on your lip, as your head was lowered in shame. Your eyes focused on your shoes as you listened to your father’s rant.

He takes a deep breath, before walking towards you and taking your arms gently in his hands. “I know you are hurt and scared, but please please think about the wellbeing of Thuiniel.” A sigh left your lips. “I will father.” With that you left his chambers. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you searched the library, in order to take a good book with you and get your mind off of things. Upon entering the room, you could see Thorins back facing the door. Oh no. “Have you already found the scrolls Balin?” He asked, not looking up from the papers in his hands. You shifted from one foot to another as you decided if you should leave or stay. “I apologize my king, but I am not Balin. Listening to your voice, his eyes snapped up from the papers towards you. “How can I help you princess?” Biting down on your lip you thought a moment about what you should say in order to save the little chemistry you should have as the future royal couple. “I wanted to apologize for my behaviour earlier.” At that, Thorin lay his papers down, intently listening on what else you had to say. “I shouldn’t have reacted this way but neither did I expect a wedding announcement last week. I couldn’t prepare myself, neither did I get a proper chance on finding out who I am about to marry. It is a lot that suddenly falls on top of me and so many more things are piling up without a chance to properly think about anything to be honest.” You looked at the dwarf, who started to approach you. His gaze was locked on your eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. “One month will be enough time to get your head sorted through and get used to living in Erebor. We will get to know each other on the way there and you will learn how to be a queen.” He said, trying to reassure you. Gently, he takes your hand in his. Turning your palm upwards, he places something on top, before closing your fingers around it. “I also took the liberty of reading into your kingdom, Thuiniel, and the few customs you have. This is also the reason as to why I wanted the wedding to happen in a month. Your kingdom is in dire need of a strong alliance due to the wars that happened one after another and I can be of help. I never want to witness other kingdoms defeat due to an army of Orcs.” You blinked at the man in front of you, not exactly knowing how to respond to him. A smile stretched over your lips. “Thank you so much Thorin.” You left afterwards, heading towards your chambers. Opening your palm, you saw a small golden ring in your hand. Taking it between your fingers, you took a careful look of it. A green gem was present in the middle. Gold flowers were etched into each side of the gem, while a small diamond sat atop of the green one. The ring almost looked like a golden crown. Putting it on your ring finger you smiled softly. Maybe there was some hope.

The weeks passed in a storm and you got quite accustomed to living in Erebor. During your stay, you also got to know Thorins’ nephews Fili and Kili. Most of your time was spent with them, while they tell you all about how they got to win Erebor back with their uncle and several other dwarves. Balin also gave you some lessons on important things and events to know about Erebor as well as the dwarven culture. He emphasized on the fact that you have to offer Thorin a bead and braid a strand of his hair. “It will signify that he is a married dwarf and found his One.” He once said. One. It has been stuck in your mind for the past week. You wouldn’t call yourself his One. You haven’t even really gotten the chance to get to know him like he told you, so even if you were his One, you wouldn’t know. You did meet him more often than before however; the conversation was always kept to a minimum. The fact that he still is a mysterious man to you makes your heart twist painfully. You even knew Kilis and Filis entire live story by heart after just a week and can barely remember that he is also called Thorin Oakenshield? Unacceptable. And this is the sole reason as to why you are approaching his chambers after another uneventful day of you two only communicating for roughly ten minutes. Sitting on a chair by his desk, he raised an eyebrow at your intrusion.

“I thought I told you that if you needed anything, you can always ask Balin.” A sigh left your lips, as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. “Well Balin is not you now, is he?” Your arms were folded in front of you, gaze never leaving the king. “Listen Thorin, I have had enough. We barely talk with each other and I still only know your name. I don’t know anything about you and it annoys me. We are supposed to get married tomorrow and the only conversations we held was about sleep and our schedule of the day.” An exasperated sigh left his lips. “(Y/N) I really can’t deal with this or with you right now.” “Excuse me?” One of your eyebrows was raised as the words Thorin just muttered reverberate in your head. Anger slowly started to build up inside of you at his uncalled attitude.

“I think one month should have been enough time to get your head sorted through.” You spat at him. His eyes squint together, ready to say more but you cut him off. “You can’t constantly keep pushing me away. We have to share a lifetime together, if you want to or not. Just because you constantly find excuses to leave me behind and continue to do whatever else doesn’t mean-“ “Whatever else? I am trying to safe your kingdom! Your home!” “This is my home!” You yelled at him, face slightly tinted red. Even if you only have been in Erebor for roughly a month, you already accepted and loved it like it was your home. Which it was. “I love Thuiniel, but it is no longer my home. My father sent me here to marry you and get used to living in Erebor. Thuiniel is not as helpless as you make it out to be. My brother is the one in charge while my father is still here, waiting for the marriage to be fulfilled. My brother is capable of taking care of it and even if he needs help, we have other alliances and not just Erebor.” You take a breath to calm yourself down. “As a king you should not just take care of the kingdom but also of the people surrounding you. And for the time being I must admit, you are a bad king to me.” Thorin approaches you with a few quick strides. His hands lowered on each side of your thighs as he leaned into your personal space. “You dare to call me a bad king? Just because I don’t give you the attention you so desperately need?” His hot breath made your cheeks warm up. Eyes wide you stare into his blue ones, that shine with an unknown fire. You were about to say something, however the lump in your throat prevented you from muttering anything.

“You want attention princess? You shall get it.” His hand moved towards your face, pulling you towards his lips. Shocked at the sudden movement you gasped softly. Thorin took this as an invitation and deepened the kiss. You slowly started to relax into his arms, as you wrapped your hands around his neck. Your mind still was a jumbled mess, however your body was in dire need of his touch as well as his warmth.

Untangling your arms from his neck, you moved up the bed, towards the headboard. Thorin followed you, never once breaking the kiss. His warm hand travelling toward your neck, while his other hand grasped onto your thigh. He somehow managed to position himself between your legs. Breaking apart from the kiss, the both of you had to catch your breath, red cheeks and eyes glazed over with a burning passion. “How much of my attention do you want?” Thorin asked, voice slightly deeper than normal. “I wish to have all of it.” Your hand gently held the side of his face, thumb stroking his rosy cheek. Eyes flitting from his eyes to his lips, you leaned towards him, pulling him into another passionate kiss. Tongues were entangling into each other while your fingers played with the strands of his hair. He moved from your lips across your face, towards your neck. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt his teeth sink into the skin beneath your jaw, marking you. His big hands travelled from your waist to your dressed boobs. Moving his head from your neck, he looked at your dress. “Turn around Amrâlimé. So I can undo your dress.” He quickly moved aside, as you turned around and let him unravel the corset. His fingers brushed against your back as you wished they would continue to travel along your body. “Stand up.” He ordered and you willingly complied. The sleeves of the dress travelled down, as the bodice slowly also moved to the floor, until you were only left in your panties.

“My beautiful queen.” He stood up from the bed and pulled you in by your waist. Your hands desperately grasping onto his neck, as he sat down on the plush mattress, making you straddle him. You felt his hard cock rub against the inside of your thigh. A soft moan escaped your lips. You wanted him. You needed him. Thorins hands slowly moved towards your breasts. Taking your nipples between his fingers he rolled them around. You leaned into his touch as you held onto his shoulders for some stability. Pants left your lips as you decided to grind on his cock, desperate for any kind of friction. Thorin let out a grunt, focussing on your left nipple with his left hand, while his lips rapped around the right one. A moan leaving your lips as his tongue flicked over it. After a few seconds he switched sides. The fingers of his right hand left a ghostly trail behind as they moved towards your awaiting core. Pushing your panties aside, his fingers moved through your wet folds.

A chuckle left his lips. “You really love my attention, don’t you?” The only thing you could do was nod, as he drew soft circles on your clit, making you immediately stop your grinding on his clothed dick. “I need a verbal response my queen.” He stopped moving his fingers around, making you whine at the loss. “Yes. Please.” A smirk was present on his lips as he left gentle kisses on your jaw. “Please what?” He teased as he continued to rub small circles. “Thorin I want you. I want your attention please.” As soon as these words left your lips you were thrown on the bed. Your legs were parted as Thorin began to undress himself. You watched his fingers work to undo the buttons of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Sitting up you let your hands travel from his broad shoulders, over his hairy chest and down his abs until they arrived at the happy trail that led to his hard cock. You slowly undid the button on his pants, before pulling them down together with his underwear. His dick sprung free. He was thick and hard, some precum already leaking from his tip. You carefully wrapped your hand around him, making him sigh contentedly at your touch. He felt warm and heavy around your fingers. You couldn’t even close your hand properly at his thickness. Moving your hand up and down slowly you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“My king, do you crave my attention as much as I crave yours?” You asked him, sweetly tilting your head to the side still holding onto him. “Yes. Yes I do Amrâlimé.” His hands grasped your shoulders, as he pushed you down on the matress. He spread your legs further apart, before taking off your panties and stepping between your legs. Goosebumps spread across your arms as your wet cunt was hit by the cold air. Thorins fingers immediately worked towards your core. You moaned as he let one of his fingers enter you. He pumped his digit inside you a few times before adding another finger. Your hands held onto his biceps as you felt his fingers curl up inside of you. His lips were on yours as he swallowed your desperate and high-pitched moans. The heat in your lower stomach made your toes curl as you slowly felt the familiar sensation approach. Suddenly it all was gone as Thorin pulled his fingers from you. You pouted at him sadly. “I want you to cum on my dick, not on my fingers.” He said, taking his dick in his hands and moving the tip between your folds. “Thorin.” You gasped as he made contact with your swollen clit. “Please.” You begged him. “What do you want my queen?”

His hands were holding you down by the waist, stopping you from moving around anymore. “I want you inside of me please. I want to feel you.” With that, Thorin lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Slowly he pushed inside. Your walls tightened around him making him groan out. A gasp escaped your lips at the slight burning sensation of the stretch inside you. He was big and you really felt it. Your hands held him close by his back, as he started to move inside you. Your spongey walls welcoming him in with every thrust he does. Your moans, mixed with his own grunts, echoed from the walls of his chambers. Each thrust made you feel closer to him and closer to heaven. His lips were on yours again, swallowing each sound you make. Warmth spread through your whole body as you felt the knot tighten in your lower regions. Thorin grabbed your thighs and bend them towards your shoulders. Loud moans escaped your lips at the new angle. His cock throbbing inside of you while your walls tightened around him. You knew you were close and so did he. Hence his finger moved toward your swollen clit. “Cum for me my queen. Cum on my dick.” You gasped at his words. The knot in your lower region came undone as you felt the bliss of your orgasm wash over you. Your nails still digging into Thorins back as he increased the speed of his thrusts until you felt his dick twitch before his warm cum filled you up.

After a few moments of still moving inside you he pulled out, making his cum drip out of your hole. He used his thumb to push his cum back into you. You moved your body properly on the bed, before hiding under the covers. Blush still visible. A chuckle left Thorins lips as he joined you under the covers. “This isn’t exactly what I meant earlier.” You mumbled, face still hidden partly by the blanket. He softly put a strand behind your ear, letting his hand stroke your cheek gently. “I promise you, we will have plenty of time to get to know each other. We will learn to love each other and I certainly will learn to give you the attention you need and deserve Amrâlimé.” He planted a soft kiss on your forehead. Maybe the both of you really have the potential to be the missing puzzle pieces for each other. The Ones you need.

#Thorin Oakenshield #The Hobbit #imagines #writing #smut #thorin x reader #thorin x you #Thorin smut #female reader #thorin x fem!reader #thorin imagine #first time writing smut #thorin oakenshield fic #thorin oakenshield fanfic #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thorin oakenshield smut #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x f!reader #thorin oakenshield x female reader #thorin oakenshield x fem!reader #thorin fic #thorin fanfiction #thorin fanfic #thorin x f!reader #thorin x female reader #thorin smut #king thorin

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 & 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ⚘ 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘

Summary ➳ Thorin’s heart swears to despise each and every dragon, but how could he come to hate its rider who longs for a home as he does?

Extra Information ➳ (Y/n) appeared in Mirkwood twenty three years ago with a baby dragon perched on her shoulder. Thranduil took her in to keep a promise to an old friend.

(A/n) ➳ I started writing this mid November of last year back when I started the Hobbit. I plan to upload this series either Spring or Winter. Feedback is greatly appreciated. I feel like this is more of my better works considering I wanted it to feel like the Hobbit/LOTR.

Word Count ➳ 610

Content Warnings ➳ Female Targaryen Reader, 3rd P.O.V, mentions the Doom of Valyria, mentions of death…

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1

(Y/n) watched from the corner, watching as each dwarf was pushed into a cell. Their complaints were falling on death’s ears.

She stepped out from the shadows and towards Legolas’s direction, wanting to know where the dwarves came from.

“What do you know of dragons, girl?” The dwarf’s voice was gruff, laced with bitterness as he eyed the dragon sigils embroidered into her clothing. “You wear it like a badge of honor.”

(Y/n) eyed him as well, realizing who the dwarf in the cell was. “You’re Thorin Oakenshield? Heir to the throne of Erebor.”

Thorin’s fists clenched around the iron bars. “You have yet to answer my question.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in amazement. “I cannot believe it. I’ve-”

“(Y/n)! Dina!” Legolas commanded her to come. “Get away from the dwarf.”

With that, she walked away, leaving no room for Thorin or (Y/n) to say anything.

“Must you speak to them?” Legolas sneered, following you down the steps. “What reason do you have?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the infamous Thorin Oakenshield. It was not disappointing.”

“...Is it?”

(Y/n) nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yes. If what they say is true… If they reclaim the mountain, I would love to see the glory of Erebor.”

Legolas froze in his steps. “I am beginning to wonder where your allegiance lies.”

“What makes you wonder that?”

“...Go, I need to report to the King.”

She rolled her eyes, asking herself if her curiosity made Legolas or anyone else question her loyalty.

Of course, her loyalty lies with Thranduil, he saved her and took a human and a dragon in. A human not from this world.

The sun had begun to set when (Y/n) stood at Thorin’s cell. “Might I ask you something?” She began, breaking the silence.

He looked up at her, eyes wary. “What is it? Dragon rider?”

“If you had no memories of the kingdom or its riches, would you still fight to reclaim it?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “For it is not the gold or treasures that drive me, but the honor and memory of my kin who were lost. To reclaim Erebor is to honor their memory, to give those who wish for their home.”

He stepped closer to the bars as he spoke his words, loudly enough for the rest of the Company to hear. He spoke with bravery and pride, not a single once of shame in them.

(Y/n) listened to his words closely. It made her think of her own home, the writing of the book could not describe the doom correctly.

Only a dream, unsure if it came true…

(Y/n) became lost in her thoughts, she began to speak aloud. “I wonder…” She uttered. “What it would be to see Valyria, to walk the streets, see the dragons fly into the sky with my people on its back. I wonder if any Targaryens remain.”

She sighed, sitting down on the steps. “I wonder if the dream was true and the doom of my home was correct.”

Thorin, still irate from the encounter from earlier but genuinely curious about her side of dragons, sat as well. “Was it taken?”

“It was destroyed. A Targaryen had a dream, D… Daenys had a dream. She had foresaw the destruction. But I have no way to know if it was true, I do not know if Valyria still stands or if any Targaryens remain to rule the skies.”

(Y/n) looked up to the ceiling, closing her eyes to remember how Valyria was described. “To be home. I would give my life just to see it.”

“…May you find your way home, dragon rider… And safely.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings #the hobbit #hobbit x reader #thorin fic #targaryen reader

[deadlymistletoe]

Misty Mountains

Pairing: Thorin x Reader

Genre: Light romance/fluff

Description: Throin helps you get back to sleep when you wake up from a nightmare while he’s on watch.

Warnings: None

Word count: 717

Your blanket fell to your waist as you jolted up from your bedroll, breathing heavily.

As your eyes adjusted to your surroundings you groaned quietly, rubbing your face with your hands.

Ever since you’d heard the orcs and wargs shrieking in the night, you’d been on edge. Fili and Kili’s story hadn’t helped matters, although thankfully Thorin had shut that down quickly.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep easily, you pushed your blanket off your legs and stood up, stretching silently before you began weaving your way through the sleeping dwarves and towards the small fire at the mouth of the cave, careful not to step on anyone.

You doubted Thorin would be happy if everyone woke in a panic because you’d taken a tumble onto one of them.

You sighed silently. Thorin.

Despite the dwarf king's grouchiness and stubborn manner your attention had been drawn to him from the first time you met him, the unimpressed expression he’d worn as Gandalf announced you’d be coming was still etched in your brain as clearly as if it had only just happened.

Still, you liked to think-or hope-that he’d warmed up to you by now. It certainly seemed like it sometimes before he’d say something in that grouchy tone and it felt like you were back to square one.

Or maybe you were just delusional and imagined the tiny smiles you thought he gave you before turning away when you caught his gaze.

Speaking of, when you reached the mouth of the cave Thorin, who sat against the wall on his bedroll keeping watch, was already looking at you.

When he caught your gaze he raised an eyebrow in question.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumbled, holding your hands out to the fire, hoping to warm them on the dying flame.

“Nightmares?” His voice was low, quiet enough not to wake the others.

You gave a slight nod. Were you really that easy to read?

Again, as if reading your thoughts, he spoke. “Everyone has them. I’m not surprised after that story Fili and Kili told.” He shook his head in exasperation.

You were both silent for a moment before he murmured your name, drawing your attention again. “Come here.”

What?

He beckoned you towards him again, and you stepped away from the fire, stopping in front of the dwarf on the ground in front of you. 

“Sit down.” 

You blinked.

When you made no move to do as he said, Thorin reached up and took your hand, tugging you down to sit with him.

“Thorin, what-” Your cheeks flamed, and you were glad it was night as the dwarf maneuvered you so that you leant against him, head on his chest, fur coat soft against your cheek.

“Try to sleep. You need your rest.” You tried to keep your breathing steady as you felt his arm around you, holding you securely, but comfortably against him while his chest rumbled slightly under you when he spoke.

You hesitated to close your eyes, feeling your tiredness creep up on you again, but gave up and let them flutter shut at Thorin’s next words. “I’ll wake you if you have a nightmare. Don’t fight it.”

You sighed quietly as you turned your head into Thorin’s chest a bit more, and felt him drape his blanket over the two of you with the hand that wasn’t holding you to him.

You listened to the embers crackling as they died, when Thorin shifted slightly and his voice joined the sounds of nature. You easily recognised the song as the one sung the night at Bilbo’s place and found yourself focusing on his voice, his chest vibrating beneath your ear.

“Far over the misty mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

We must away ere break of day,

To find our long-forgotten gold.”

Thorin’s voice was the last thing you heard as you drifted off to sleep, his thumb rubbing across your upper arm lightly as he sang.

“The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night,

The fire was red, it flaming spread,

The trees like torches blazed with light.”

And no one needed to know if he pressed a kiss to the top of your head while you slept when he finished the song.

Taglist

@fizzyxcustard

#the hobbit #imagines #female reader #the hobbit x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin #throin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #my writing

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Dance at a Feast

Happy New Year everyone! The good thing about having two weeks off from work is that I am able to get some writing done! I'm trying to get drafts done for a lot of fics I have plans for, so I can have some things to post when I go back to work.

Also, please feel free to make requests! I have a list of prompts which is linked below, and a master list that has the fandoms and characters I write for. If there is someone and a something not listed that would like to make a request for, feel free to and I will let you know if I know enough about it to write for it. Also feel free to make requests for this verse!

This is another part in the Covered in Steam verse. A fluffy piece between female reader and Thorin, it is set after Covered in Steam.

Warnings: Talks of a sexual nature. Dain being disrespectful - nothing insane just not acknowledging the reader as the Queen *yes I think this should be a warning*

Tag list: @catt-leya @bunson-burner

Master List

Prompt List

Covered in Steam

You fiddled with the sleeves of your dress tugging them down before pulling them back up and then down again. You glanced at the mirror in Thorin’s, no your chamber you hadn’t slept in the chamber that was yours since that night. You wore a beautiful gown in the colours of the family of Durin, the blue almost matched that of your Kings eyes. Your hair had been left down showcasing the braids and beads that Thorin wove into it every morning. You were nervous, this was the first feast since you were behaving as a true married couple. And you didn’t want to do anything that would embarrass Thorin. Which was why you were concerned about the dress, the shoulders of the dress could sit normally or be pulled down to expose your shoulders and collarbones, and the plunging neckline was lower than what you normally wore but it worked the best with the necklace Thorin had gifted you with on the day you got married, and you hadn’t worn it yet.

“Sister?” you heard Dis’ voice call out from the sitting room next to the bedroom where Thorin received any guests that came to your chambers.

“In here!” you called back, shifting the bodice of the dress a little, unsure about the gauzy material that ran in panels down your ribs before forming into the princess style skirt.

“Oh my,” Dis whispered as she laid eyes on you. “I think you may very well kill my brother in that dress.”

“Is it too much?” you spun around eyes wide with concern as you smoothed down the billowing skirts. “It’s a normal style in my homeland but I know it isn’t overly common amongst the women here.”

“You look stunning my Queen,” Dis assured you as she came to stand in-front of you grabbing your hands. “You do not need to pretend as if the culture and norms of your homeland do not exist, my brother would not expect you to only dress as a dwarven woman.”

“I know he has told me as such, but I just don’t want to…embarrass him in-front of his court, especially since everything between us is still so new,” you nibbled your lower lip before yelping a little as Dis pinched your arm.

“You’ll ruin the makeup,”  

“Can’t have that can I?” you laughed, your nerves slowly leaving you in your sister in laws presence. Something she has always managed to do.

“Now, come on,” Dis tugged on you before stopping for a moment. “Wait, you are missing something.” She let go of your hand to go back to your dressing table and lifted the small crown from its resting place to put it on your head. “There.”

You lifted your hand to gently touch the crown as Dis went back to tugging you out of your rooms and towards the main banquet hall. You were still not use to wearing a crown, as you and Thorin both only tended to wear them when you absolutely had to. Such as at a feast welcoming Thorin’s cousin Dain. You could hear the celebrations before the door even came into view, you smiled. Dwarrow truly knew how to throw a feast and celebration.

“Introducing her Highness Princess Dis and her Royal Majesty Queen y/n,” the herald at the doorway announced both you and Dis causing the court to become quiet as Thorin stood from his chair and walked around the table that housed the royals. His eyes burned with a fire as he took in your appearance, you could feel the eyes of every dwarf on you as the king walked towards you and Dis quickly left your side to greet her sons. You could only guess the dwarf sitting on Thorin’s left was his cousin Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills. You briefly caught his eyes only to quickly break eye contact and focus on your husband. Dain had the same colour eyes as Thorin only his were cold and calculating, and you did not like the way he looked at you.

“My wife,” Thorin rumbled, this voice bouncing around the room. “You are a vision.”

You dropped into a small curtsy as your body warmed, your eyes locking onto his as you lifted your head back up. Thorin stepped closer to you to place a kiss upon your lips before gently taking your hand, guiding you to stand in-front of his cousin, who remained seated.

“Cousin, my wife, your Queen,” Thorin’s voice was hard as stone as he noticed the disrespect being shown to you. “Greet her.” Dain’s eyes narrowed before a friendly mask fell over his face as he stood and bowed low to you.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you, Your Majesty,” Dain’s voice didn’t sound overly pleased and you were concerned but you nodded back at him regardless, knowing now was not the time to raise concerns.

“And it is lovely to finally meet you Lord Dain, Thorin has spoken highly of you,” you responded voice soft, your eyes looking at a point over his shoulder as you didn’t want to look into his cold eyes again.

“Come my Queen, you must be hungry,” Thorin’s arm wrapped around your waist and led you away. You smiled gratefully up at Thorin raising on your toes to press your lips to his cheek in thanks. His arm squeezed you in kind, his eyes full of love as he stared down at you.

“Hello aunty mine,” Kili smiled up at you as you walked past. You grinned down at him, unable to resist messing up his hair. Kili pouted up at you as he tried to fix his hair, you dropped a kiss on his head in apology as you did the same to Fili as you walked past. Dis’s sons had been as welcoming as she had when you arrived, always smiling and including you, you were forever grateful for those three Durin’s.

“Aunty,” Fili smiled as you sat down beside him, Dis was in the middle of her two sons, who leaned around her oldest to smile at you. “Don’t worry about Dain. He’s a traditionalist but Uncle doesn’t pay any mind to those old dwarves.” Fili had lowered his voice and leant close to your side. His eyes, the same shade as his uncle was soft and kind as he looked at you. Your heart squeezed at his words.

“Thank you Fili,” you whispered back. “I will keep that in mind.”

“But, should he or any other dwarf look to cause you problems promise that you will let myself, my mother, Kili, Dwalin or Balin know. Of course Thorin should be your first choice but if you cannot find him, you also have us on your side,” Fili added squeezing your arm before letting go and focusing on his food.

You could hear the conversations going on around you as you picked at your food. You never ate much in-front of large crowds, but would always find a plate of food waiting for you in your chambers after a feast. You had always wondered who ensured the staff left it but never thought to investigate it too much.

“Are you alright love?” Thorin asked removing himself from the conversation with Dain to check on you. He had picked up on your added nerves after meeting Dain and wanted to do everything he could to be sure that you were fine.

“I am,” you nodded turning to give Thorin a smile but you could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t buy it. He leaned close enough to whisper into your ear.

“If I had known Dain would show such disrespect to my wife I would never had invited him here,” Thorin promised you. “Tell me at once if he ever does so again or makes you uncomfortable at all. Erebor if your home and you are the Queen.”

“You Durin’s and your need to protect,” you teased nudging your nose against his.

“Oh?”

“Fili just gave me a list of all the dwarves I can tell if Dain or any other dwarf causes me problems,” you explained. “It was pretty much you four and Dwalin and Balin.”

“Hmm,” Thorin hummed his eyes full of pride at your words. “Well, us Durin’s are fiercely protective of those we care about. And once we care for someone it is next to impossible to get rid of us. So I’m afraid my heart, you are stuck with me, and my sister and nephews.”

“Such an imposition that,” you laughed.

“You weren’t thinking I was an imposition this morning,” Thorin growled his eyes darkening as heat filled them. “With my tongue between your thighs.”

“Thorin,” you gasped in shock. “You can’t say things like that here.”

“I am the King,” Thorin shrugged kissing your lips and whispering his next words into your mouth. “I can say such things when I please. And no-one can hear us.”

You playfully glared at him about to say something back when Dain interrupted leaning around Thorin to gain his attention again, sending you a cold look before placing the mask back in place before Thorin could see. Thorin kissed you once more rounding on his cousin, you could hear the harshness in his tone as he spoke in dwarvish. You sipped at your wine, as music started to play, as it always does at a Dwarven feast. The boys beside you quickly stood up looking to find some partners to dance with, Kili raced off instantly looking for Ori. Fili however, hesitated, Dis had left seeking out Balin to discuss some matters.

“My Queen,” Fili said, his voice loud and pointed as he bowed low at his waist holding a hand out. “May I have a dance?”

You grinned up at Fili, standing up and reaching to take his hand but you were pulled tightly against a hard chest. Thorin’s scent surrounding you. Fili smirked, his eyes playfully challenging his uncle, as he continued to wait on your hand.

“My wife will be dancing with me first, nephew,” Thorin’s voice rumbled.

“I think Her Majesty can make that decision, Uncle,” Fili grinned.

“I am honoured Prince Fili,” you grinned, trying to keep your voice regal. “However, I would think you would prefer to seek out someone else to dance…and even maybe court?”

Fili’s face flushed bright red his eyes automatically going towards a dwarven woman that was standing off to the side near Bofur. The look in his eyes was similar to how Thorin would look at you and you knew that maybe you and Dis could do a little pushing.

“I mean…I can’t…” Fili stuttered in an uncommon show of nerves.

“Yes you can nephew,” you encouraged him stepping a little out of the circle of Thorin’s arms but he kept a hold of your hips. “I have seen that young woman look at you, in the same manner you look at her. You are a Durin, take the courage that all you Durin’s seem to possess in enough abundance to take on a Dragon and ask her to dance.”

You felt Thorin’s hands squeeze your hips and his lips pressed into your neck, you could feel the smile that tugged at them. You reached out to squeeze Fili’s hands, forcing his eyes back to yours. The red of his face had calmed down to a light pink.

“Right, yes, true,” Fili nodded.

“You are my heir Fili,” Thorin added reaching out to pat him on the shoulder. “You can do this.”

Fili nodded once more before he turned around and strode towards the woman in question. He forced the Durin swagger into his steps as the two of you watched him in amusement. Thorin tugged you close again turning you around, you smiled up at him wrapping your arms around his neck.

“So, that dance?” you asked. “Better make good.”  

“Come along then,” Thorin smirked. Pushing you backwards, you giggled turning around and taking hold of his hand and pulling him onto the space in the middle of the room that was used for dancing.

Thorin spun you around before tugging you close, wrapping his right arm around your waist and grabbing your right hand with his left, you placed your left hand on his shoulder. You allowed him to led you around the floor trusting him to keep you from backing into anyone. The tune was a fast past one, your skirt flying out every time he spun you around quickly. He grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up and turning the two of you before putting you back down and grabbing hold of your hand again to lead you around.

You giggled as your dress managed to hit Kili and Ori on your way past them, you threw an apology over Thorin’s shoulder causing the two young Dwarves to laugh. Thorin couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your eyes were bright with happiness and you had not stopped laughing and smiling since Fili had first asked you for a dance. Your face was flush from your wine and from the dancing, you had danced to two fast paced songs before a slow paced song started to play. Thorin wrapped both his arms around your waist pulling you as close to him as he could get you. You looped your arms around his neck, using one of your hands to tilt his head down, he grinned as he rested his forehead against yours and swayed the two of you in time with music.

“You truly do look beautiful tonight, my Lady,” Thorin whispered. “Seeing you in my colours, I wish to take you from this hall and feast on something else entirely.”

“My King, was this morning and last night not enough?” you asked, stroking the back of his neck, his thick hair covering your movements.

“I will never have enough of you,” Thorin answered. “I will never have enough of your taste, of your body, of you. I will always want you in my arms.”

#writing #imagine #imagines #fluff #the hobbit imagines #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Female reader #Queen Reader #Arranged marriage #thorin fluff #Thorin x reader #Thorin x femreader #Fili #Kili #Dis #Dain #Covered in Steam Verse #cute #Thorin is infatuated with his wife #Thorin's family would throw hands for her #but not Dain #Reader is adorable #reader is uncomfortable around Dain #non-dwarf reader

[the-autistic-vulcan]

the part where i talk about fanfics...

okay, this is, not difficult for me to talk about, but i know people are touchy about this subject - so i'm just going to say it:

If a fanfiction is not your cup of tea, then don't read it!

it is quite a simple thing to do for most people, however, there is a lot of readers/fandom explorers who go in to read a piece of fanfiction and then hate on it because:

"i headcanon X as gay, so shipping them with Y reader is a no"

"you can only ship X with Y, no other ships or reader inserts or self inserts are valid

"he doesn't like women or she doesn't like men" and vice versa

this is very apparent in most fandoms, dead or thriving, where a character is, in the majority, is headcanoned as something, but there is a minority that doesn't agree.

for example, in the mcu fandom, a lot of people headcanon Steve Rogers aka Captain America, as bisexual. personally, i do not, but i don't go out of my way to hate on people who read the male reader fanfics or the Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) fics - i've read some and a lot of them are great, tbh.

personally, i like to read and/or write gender neutral reader fics and that is honestly the comfort zone for me - but i know people will disagree and enjoy more gender aligned fics (male or female)

but i digress - in short, let people read what they want to read, if you disagree or do not support a headcanon/ship/trope, please don't ruin the day of enjoyers.

let's not ban certain takes on characters - the world has other worries

Signed, Ali Solar

Taglist:

@mashedpotatosinacup

@witchthewriter

@tolkien-fantasy

P.S. To those on the taglist, i'd love to hear your opinions on this

#fanfiction #ship dynamics #headcanon #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #dead fandom #alive fandom #marvel x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #edward nygma x reader #thranduil x reader #bilbo baggins x reader #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #frodo baggins #the lord of the rings #i know there are so many tags but i need to get this across

[fizzyxcustard]

Can i request a prompt, " I might need to kiss you, if you don't stop saying such things "? With Thorin oakenshield x female reader.

(I'm just going to write a little drabble for this one, and kinda work it the opposite way around to 'Those Hands'. I also won't tag anyone as it'll just be something short and simple. Hope you like it!)

***

Council again. Another huge crowd of various leaders and dignitaries from neighbouring lands. That meant men in their finest silk tunics, and women in long flowing gowns that put you to shame. You remained at the end of the table most meetings, taking down notes and generally trying to keep your head down.

Today, however, and you felt that extra stab of envy. Bard had visited with his new wife, who was absolutely stunning. That you could not deny. She was beautiful inside and out. She had sat next to you, and was courteous, even funny. You had noticed all the male gazes falling upon her.

By the time the council chamber was empty, you grabbed your papers and quill, ready to disappear as fast as you could.

"May I have a word?" Thorin asked, offering you a smile.

"Of course," you replied, giving out a gentle sigh.

"Is something wrong? I could not help but notice you seemed distant today, your thoughts apparently elsewhere."

"I'm sorry, Thorin, it won't happen again," you replied, a flush of embarrassment hitting your cheeks.

"Come and sit," Thorin said, gesturing to the empty chairs next to you both. He pulled out one of the wooden chairs, wishing for you to sit. As you obliged and sat down, he sat beside you. "I did not bring the matter up to insinuate you were not performing your duty. I'm concerned that something is wrong."

Thorin always seemed to notice the little things, the finer details that no one else saw. In the time you had known him and he always raised his concerns with you, especially if they were connected to you.

"I'm being childish, I know..." You averted your eyes from Thorin, trying not to look him in the eye. Of course you were being stupid, and you were also madly in love with the king.

"I'm sure you are not."

"I saw the attention that Bard's wife was receiving and it hit a nerve inside me." You hung your head in shame. "I'm not beautiful, alluring, noticeable. Every day I merely exist; I'm never noticed. I'm nothing really."

"Why ever would you think like that?"

"Please do not try and be polite. Look at me, I'm not outwardly beautiful. I'm not particularly skillful..."

Thorin shushed you suddenly. "I might have to kiss you if you don't stop saying such things."

#Thorin Oakenshield #The Hobbit #Prompt request #Thorin x you #Thorin x Female Reader #Thorin x fem!reader #Thorin Oakenshield x you #Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

[gloomwitchwrites]

Spiced Wine

Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief alcohol use, dancing, fluff, romantic tension

Word Count: 2.2k

During a winter festival, you dance with a stranger.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Winter is knocking on the door.

There is a thin dusting of snow upon the ground. All of Erebor and Dale is out this evening with little regard for the chill. The solstice begins tonight and with it comes the changing of the season along with celebrations to mark the end of the harvest.

You stand just outside Erebor’s massive doors. A large crowd enters, seeking the warmth within the dwarven halls. King Thrór is hosting a massive feast full of food, lively music, and dancing. While Erebor is the host, all of Dale is invited, and that also includes many of the surrounding communities.

This will be your first time entering the dwarven kingdom, and you’re nervous. Sweat blooms in your palms, and you aren’t sure whether you should see this through or turn tail and go home.

But if you return home, you will be alone, and you’re sick of being alone.

Your life in Dale is pleasant, and you enjoy working in one of the few bookshops, but it is almost always only you. Most of your family is gone or dwelling in faraway places. There is only you to rely on, and over the last few years, more and more of the men in Dale have been…forward with their intentions.

Their attention is nice, but it’s also exhausting. Every time the bell over the door rings, you expect it to be a customer. Most of the time it’s one of the many single men wishing to speak with you. You have to put on a smile and get through it as best you can.

You want to enjoy yourself tonight, even though you’d rather return home. Fortunately, you haven’t noticed any of your admirers, and you’re silently thankful for it. The last thing you need this evening is to chase off your group of men. They’ll follow you around, and then everyone else will avoid you.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you turn your nerves to steel, and walk through the massive entryway and into the main hall of Erebor. You follow the crowd, moving with them as they veer to the right, entering through several small archways.

As you near, you spot several tables. There are masks resting upon the wood in little rows, and you silently thank all the gods you know. Walking up to the nearest one, you consider your options. Before you is a beautiful assortment, each mask unique and different. The craftsmanship is exceptional. You settle on a gold mask that will cover everything but your eyes and mouth.

Securing it in place, you feel much lighter than before. With the mask, your flock of men will not find you, and even if they do, they might not realize that it is you that they’ve found. From there, you become one with the crowd, walking beneath more arches until you’re herded into the grand banquet hall.

The walls, ceiling, and floor are all made of smooth stone. The ceiling is high, and the pillars that support it are intricately carved with the images of dwarven kings from ages before. Hanging from the ceiling are strands of lights and different flora from around the area that thrive in the frigid temperatures. Those same plants are also around the room in various arrangements and displays.

The large room is separated into two sections. On one side is the food and drink. There are long tables there as well. People gather around the tables of food and near the massive barrels where people fill their cups. A good many attendees are also seated at the long banquet tables where they talk amongst themselves while they eat. The other side of the room hosts the music and people dancing.

Everything is warm and comforting. With the mask, you’re beginning to relax. You can do this. Walk the room, chat with a few people, eat some delicious food, and partake in a glass or two of strong drink. Then, you can return home, and curl up in bed with a book as the snow falls.

Starting at one end, you do a small lap, eventually making it to the large casks where people fill their cups. You delicately reach for a goblet and present it to one of the dwarves who guards the taps.

“What will it be, lassie?” he asks with a kind smile. His wrinkles crinkle when he grins.

“What do you have?”

“Well,” he begins. “There are lots of options, but there is spiced wine that just came in. It’s strong, flavorful, and filling. You won’t need much to make your toes warm.”

You laugh. “That sounds lovely.” You hand him your cup and watch as he fills it almost to the top. “Thank you.”

You take the cup and bring it to your lips. The flavor bursts on your tongue and your shoulders sag with happiness.

“Good, isn’t it?”

You nod and lightly wipe at the corner of your mouth. “Indeed. Many thanks.” He inclines his head and starts speaking with a new guest.

As you step away, you sense a change, as if someone were watching you. Pausing, you scan the room, making sure to not appear obvious in your observation. Has one of the many bachelors from Dale noticed you? Do they see you at this moment?

When you don’t notice anyone staring, you push out into the crowd, doing slow sweeps with the turn of your head. Still, nothing and no one grabs your attention. Frowning, you stick to the perimeter, stopping to chat with a few people you know.

Deja, the woman who runs the flower shop next to the bookstore you work in, leans against a nearby pillar. A man has her cornered, talking her ear off, and she’s not even paying attention. Finding your in, you saddle up beside the man.

“Deja! I’ve been looking for you!”

At first, she frowns, but then she grins mischievously and grabs your outstretched hand. The man sways a bit, and nods in confusion, stumbling off to find another woman to talk at.

“Didn’t recognize you under that mask,” she laughs, the two of you making a home against the wall.

“Trying to avoid notice,” you reply, sipping on your wine.

She snorts and leans in. “I don’t think you’re successful.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

She points her chin to a spot across the room. You follow the direction and immediately freeze. There is someone watching you. It’s one of the dwarves and the finery he wears is a deep royal blue. Interwoven into the fabric are threads of silver and metalwork that speaks to influence. He wears a silver mask that matches all that detail work. His dark hair is neatly braided, and pulled back, but you notice the soft waves and the way he holds himself.

“You’re mistaken,” you laugh nervously, this time taking a large gulp of your drink.

Deja shakes her head. “Then why is he heading this way?”

“He isn��t,” you insist, and Deja laughs loudly.

“Hand me your drink.”

“What?”

Deja snatches the cup right out of your grasp. “He’s going to ask you to dance.”

You’re about to snap back, but Deja is right. He is right there in front of you and Deja is walking away quickly, enjoying your spiced wine.

“May I ask for a dance?” The stranger presents his hand, palm upward. The rough timbre of his voice is surprising. Your body responds to it, a small piece of you buzzing with pleasure.

Maybe it’s the spiced wine finally making its way into your system. “Of course,” you answer, taking his presented hand.

Your stranger leads you out into the group of dancers. The song that begins is slightly upbeat, and you allow him to take the lead. It is a song and dance you are not familiar with, but he makes it easy to keep up, and you don’t stumble over your feet or his.

His control is impressive. Elegant, but strong. Purposeful. There is power in every step, as if he is in battle and not moving through a coordinated dance.

“I do not know your name,” he says, spinning you into his arms.

You move away, and for some odd reason, your body doesn’t like that you do. It wants you to curl back into him. It is such a strange sensation.

“And I do not know yours,” you tease, not knowing where this sudden flirtatiousness is coming from. Is it from the wine? Surely not. You didn’t even drink half of it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re wearing a mask, and he is a stranger. There are no stakes.

The music cuts out, and then the two of you are face to face. Mere inches apart.

The music swells and begins a slower tune.

“Another? So that I may know your name?” He asks so kindly. You cannot refuse him.

Nodding, you allow him to slip an arm around your waist and pull you close. You lick your lips, preparing to give him your name, but notice how his blue eyes track the movement of your tongue. It sends an immediate heat to the space between your legs.

You give him your name, and he hums softly like it pleases him to hear it.

“I am Thorin,” comes his reply. He looks expectant, as if waiting for some sort of reaction, but the name isn’t entirely familiar. There is a slight sense of knowing, but it escapes you.

Perhaps the wine is doing more than you previously thought.

“It’s a pleasure.” You bow slightly, and you notice a bit of color blooming near the edges of his cheeks.

The two of you slowly move with the crowd of dancers. His hand on your waist is like a brand. It is hot, as if melting through the fabric of your dress to touch your skin. It feels like a new crush, like one you had when you were younger, and your emotions ran wild.

While the hand on your back is fiery, Thorin’s strength is palpable. The way he guides you across and around the dancefloor is a testament to that. Even wearing such finery, you see the ripple of muscle underneath. Your own hand, which rests on his shoulder, also clearly picks up on his strength.

There are plenty of men in Dale who are warriors. Several of them even actively pursue you. So why is Thorin any different? Why is your body responding to him like it’s as natural as breathing?

At this point, you cannot put it all on the wine. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel pursued, nearly hunted down every day. He is not pushing, and that is a welcome respite from the many months of men wearing you down, hoping that you’ll simply give in.

“You are from Dale?” he asks, guiding the two of you into a turn.

“Yes. I run a bookshop there.”

He smiles and you instantly melt, loving the attention. “You’re a reader then?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“When I have the time, I do enjoy it. Yes.”

The people around you fall into a dip and Thorin responds in kind. When he brings you back up, your foreheads are nearly touching, and your mouths could easily close the distance if one of you made the first move.

Perhaps it’s only a second, but the two of you hang there in that moment. Close, but not closing the distance. Thorin’s blue eyes are piercing. Sharp. They are like steel swords. You are cut through, down to your core, and you are unable to look away.

The music tapers off, but Thorin does not pull away. He does not remove his arm from around your waist. And you do not remove your hands from him.

“I should go,” you murmur, but make no move to break contact.

“Should you?” asks Thorin, his head tipping to the side as he examines you.

And you do draw back from him, even though it’s painful. Thorin releases you, but remains unmoving, his hands slightly outstretched before him as if you’ll step right back into them.

“Thank you. You’re a lovely partner to dance with,” you say just as the music begins to swell again.

Thorin bows deeply, and the gesture momentarily steals your breath.

“Enjoy your books. Perhaps you may find me amongst your shelves one day.”

He turns and leaves, disappearing into the crowd. Turning on your heel, you bolt for the door, your chest heaving as your heart hammers.

Deja steps into your path and her hands grab your shoulders. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes,” and you almost choke on your answer.

She frowns, her brow creasing. “Did he hurt you?”

“No!”

She sighs, her relief spreading across her face. “Oh, thank goodness.” Deja releases your shoulders and places her hands on her hips. “I’d end up in Erebor’s dungeons for assaulting the crown prince if he had.”

“The what?” you splutter, eyes round and alert as you turn around to look for Thorin.

“Did you not know?” asks Deja skeptically.

You swallow, and don’t answer.

“By the gods,” laughs Deja. “What did he say to you?”

Gripping the front of your dress, you turn back to Deja. “He said he might come to the shop.”

Her eyes widen a moment before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “He likes you.”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss.

Her laugh is loud as she grabs your wrist and guides you to the exit. Tucking her arm around yours, she pulls you in close. “You’re giving me detail of this encounter.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado

#thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thorin oakenshield fic #thorin oakenshield fanfic #thorin oakenshield fluff #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x female reader #thorin oakenshield x f!reader #thorin oakenshield x fem!reader #thorin fanfiction #thorin fanfic #thorin fic #thorin fluff #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin x fem!reader #thorin x female reader #thorin x f!reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fic #the hobbit movies #king thorin #prince thorin #erebor #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit thorin #thorin

[luna-redamancy]

Hi, can you do a part 2 to Thorin X witch Reader X Bilbo please. I really enjoy reading your writing it makes my day.

Part One can be found right here!

“What’s this?” You spoke mostly to yourself, just halting from exiting your room. The hallway was barren this morning, and you had planned for a morning of solitude with a very eventful day of meditation and herb collection. Instead of handcrafted gifts and delicately written poetry sitting on your doorstep, Bilbo and Thorin stood. 

The morning sun seeped through your door and into the hallway, illuminating the two in a soft golden light whilst giving you a haloed silhouette. 

“Good morning,” You gave them both a nod, though your confusion was visible on your expression as Bilbo spoke first. 

“I wanted to see if you would join me for a walk this morning-” 

“And I was wondering if I could speak to you… Privately,” Thorin added, side eyeing Bilbo as he thumbed the courting bead in his pocket, returning his gaze back to you. 

You paused as you looked at the two- truly looked at them and took in their mannerisms. Thorin’s thumbing of something in his pocket, his brows rooted together in a deep furrow as he awaited your response, while Bilbo tapped his foot, a sign he was nervous. 

“Is this what I think this is?” You leaned against your doorway, arms crossing over your chest. The two quickly melted into a calm-faced panic. 

“What?” Bilbo nearly squeaked, flustered at you seeing through them so easily. 

“I appreciate your anonymity, it was interesting I will admit,” You grinned, “But I truly must ask- Is this what I am assuming it is?” 

“That would depend on what you think this is,” Thorin did his best to keep his expression cool. 

“Is this an attempt to officiate a courting with me?” You clarified, looking between the two. 

“Well… I–”

“Yes,” Thorin, always the blunter of the two, spoke up.

“Well it appears we have a problem,” You furrowed your brow, looking perplexed. 

“You don’t want either of us,” Bilbo said simply, trying to sound matter-of-fact but the sadness in his tone was clear as a bell. 

“No no,” You shook your head, “You both are lovely,” You gave Bilbo a smile before giving Thorin one as well. 

“However, I just don’t know how I would ever decide between the both of you. If it was my choice, I’d court the both of you.”

Bilbo and Thorin turned to each other, looking the other up and down before looking to you with determination in their eyes. 

“Why not both?” Bilbo raised a brow to you. 

Tags: 

Forever Tag-

@lady-of-lies @all-things-fandomstuck  @fizzyxcustard @izzydaelleth @aquaangel18 @raindancer2004 @love-colorfulglittercollection @ladylouoflothlorien​ @ten-tenya-iida ​​ @legolaslovely​ @bthtallmadge2​ @abesottedlass @wilhelmyna @tigereyesf​ @aspookybunny @keijibum @moony-artnstuff @sirkekselord @guardianofrivendell @fluffymadamina @izbelross @fandomhoe101 @acahope311 @kitkatd7 @mooseetx @themerriweathermage @elvish-sky @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @laurfilijames @frequentlychangingfandoms @cameronsails @linasofia @starryeyedrogue  @shethereadinghobbit @beenovel @onlystarshere @fckmini @spidergirla5 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @myselfandfantasy @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @broken-ghost @mbruben-stein @mrsdurin @hai-kbai

Bilbo- 

@inuhuffclaw

Thorin-

 @greennightspider @ashleygrrrl @skylarkvip @makeshift-prime  @jumpingmanatee @meraki--mei @theelvenvalkyrie @dabisburntnut  @queenofmankind @elvish-sky

#thorin x reader #Bilbo x reader #thorin x female reader #Bilbo x female reader #thorin x reader x bilbo #fanfiction #fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfics

[blankdblank]

Flying Buckets

…

“The White Council has spoken…” Thranduil growled out, having been reading the letter that brought him here weeks ago to talk sense into his oldest friends and get aid to move upon his lost peak within the Southern half of his forest. Glorfindel seated along the wall flinched as he did to the pained squeak and thud in response to his hard kick of a bucket through the window opening on the far wall of his suite.

“Always, the face….” A muffled and defeated voice had the pair spring up to race outside and find a petite woman plopped ungracefully on her side clutching her face to a angered flop of her foot down into the tall grass she was weighing down.

“Madam,” the Elf King felt himself sighing in a hard drop to a knee at her side. Blood clear as day from the now broken nose that hindered the already frustrated Dwarf Company of Thorin Oakenshield who were dead set on waiting until their most injury riddled member was right as rain for the continuation of their journey. Of course that was after an internal investigation on where the Princes were at during that time to ensure like a mishap with the ponies the first week had not been behind another bloody nose and facial bruise for her they were glad to be cleared of. Elrond was shouted for and the King himself carried her to aid without care of the stains to his outer robes terrifying so many in his pacing path outside the Healers Wing.

“You owe me,” was mouthed by her to the Elf King who was not blamed by the Company who would have ammunition enough already to despise him for all eternity off past grievances and grudges. The same Elf King who in his entrapped state offered a deal of his own, together they would call for aid from Dain to rid his Southern Woodlands of the Necromancer and then he would gladly aid in march upon the mountain, where they could surely work his lost gems once the arkenstone was recovered into a new trade deal to rekindle the relationship between their kingdoms.

Quietly as she stole a moment to the side of the grand hall being prepped for the coronation in a few weeks time the one to whom the King owed a debt felt his statuesque silent figure come up on her left. Silent as ever with more grace than she could dream to scoff at beside her now sling donning self thanks to another thankfully face bruise free incident one of Dain’s men unintentionally set off. “I believe we have yet to discuss terms of my debt to you.”

Up at him with brilliantly clear eyes she peered at him for another stunning glimpse of the face he’d sooner ache to coat with kisses and murmured sentiments of adoration than ever bring a single speck of a bruise to. “I want one of those head things,” that had his brow tick upwards to the circle of her good hand drawing a sloppy loop around her head. “Like Arwen and Elrond wear,” that gained a nod from him and she added peering back at the hall making his heart sink lower to her words than it ever had when he’d unfortunately caused her harm. “Everyone else has a title, some relation to the King and they all have some fancy bits and bobs they bring up to be wearing at the coronation. I get to go, but family sits with family and, I’m not family.” Up at him she looked after patting her bunched sleeve to her cheek forcing a grin onto her pinkened face, with eyes still glimmering with hint of tears in them. “If you have to you could say I cried and made you feel bad.”

“That is a poor repayment.” An answer that had her look away mid nod in the rejection riddled tone to the answer she assumed to be given so she would not actually become a sobbing mess and actually stir up some real trouble for the Elf King. An uncommon gesture of comfort of a hand on her shoulder blade halted a swivel of her head to search for a quick escape linked to ample hiding places until she would calm down. “The adornment is customary for such an event, consider it granted however many styles you deem to ask for.” Sloppily she sniffled and raised her hand and bunched up sleeve again to hover in front of the lower half of her face and cheeks as best as she could. “For now consider a much more proper form of repayment and do excuse me. On the subject of your seating arrangement, I have to speak to Lord Celeborn on terms of adopting you into his kin.”

“What?!” She squeaked out, turning to find he was gone somehow and was bent on greatly improving the station upon which would grant him a much closer distance to your seat than he could imagine possible at the moment for a Western wilds familiar Ranger.

#Thranduil x reader #Thranduil x oc #Thranduil x female ranger #flying buckets #accidental meeting #lotr #the hobbit #Thranduil #Glorfindel #Celeborn #Elrond #Thorin’s company

[here-to-read-and-write]

The hobbit x reader

Bilbo x child reader

Bilbo bagging was known as a play boy in the shire, not just to hobbit lads and lasses.

So when it comes to the dwarfs and Gandalf arrive to Rivendell, they are surprised by Elrond knowing his name, but only meeting him for the fist time in person?

Imagine even more to there suppries to a Gorgon (snake hair) child running to Bilbo yelling father!

Bilbos daughter has been studying with lord Elrond for a year.

Bonus if you put (y/n) asks if Thorin is your new mommy, que the dwarfs laughing.

Thorin x Bilbo

father!Bilbo x child!reader

You didn't precise the gender of the child so I used They \ them. (gn! reader).

waning: My bad writing, this is my first request so I hope you like it.

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. The name of the Hobbit was Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo Baggins was a very known hobbit beyond the Shine. He used to be a "playboy" in his "youth", as he liked to call it, but now he had stopped after that God offered him one of the most magnificent gifts in all his life.

Now he was offered a second gift, but this time he was relucted in taking it, but he eventually come around as he saw a small possibility of seeing his baby, his child.

As you may have guessed, Bilbo's first gift was for a child. A child not like the others. They were everything to him, the only person who brought out the best of him.

He could remember every detail about them, every first thing, their first step, their first word, he was there to see it. Unfortunately, he may not watch them grow, as The ugly orc hunted them down, and even with the brown wizard driving them away, they still got caught, forcing them to fight.

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin asked his eyes burning with anger, yet the grey wizard didn't respond, he just turned to him with a scowl planted on his face before he continue moving, and as much as Thorin wanted to argue with the Gandalf, he knew they didn't have time, either they follow him or they die.

They fought their way or rather the Drwaf did, to a cave where they followed a mysterious path, Leading them to a beautiful place, full of immense buildings connected to each other, and everything about it screamed majestically. It was nothing compared to what Bilbo had seen in his life.

"Valley of Imladris, in the common time, it's known but another name" Gandalf exclaimed his face full of joy at the familiar place.

"Rivendell" Bilbo continued for the grey wizard. He felt a sense of relief and happiness for different reasons from Gandalf. He couldn't believe he was standing a few feet away from the place, where…

"Here lies the last and only house of east of the sea" Gandalf interrupted Bilbo's thoughts, explaining to everyone (Biblo) the brief history of the place.

"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy" thorin spitted, his face showing every little bit of hate he had towards the Elvens.

"You have no enemies here Thorin Ocanshild" Gandalf's face turned to a scroll again at Thron, who he felt disappointed for letting his hate cloud his mind.

"the only ill will to fear in this valley is what you bring yourself" Gandalf continued eying the young prince in front of him. While Bilbo stood there, on Gandalf's side, his hand moving in the air. He couldn't help the smile that grow on his face, and he shyly tilted his head in an attempt to hide it until it disappear, yet it never did, not when they walked to the entrance, not even when the Lord addressed him, with knowing eyes.

"Mrs Baggins" Loard unacknowledged the Hobbit's presence, who just nodded his head. Which resulted in suspicious looks sent his way, especially from the grey wizard, who was more than sure that the two never meet.

"I didn't know you were an acquaintance of mister Baggins, Lord Elrond" Gandalf questioned, raising an eyebrow, giving Baggins a quick glance over his shoulder. The Lord only smiled in response.

They all enter and Bilbo didn't even notice, his eyes were busy searching for something or someone. He was absent-minded, that he didn't even notice the grumpy Drawf, passing the map to Lord Elrond, who gave it one look before ordering his man to bring his apprentice, and before Thorin could protest, Gandalf shut him out with a stern look.

"Papa!" Their head snapped toward the voice, to see a child, not like the other. A few feet away was a child running toward them, before throwing themselves on the hobbit who catch them quickly like a reflection.

"(Y/N)" He lifted you up, smiling with watery eyes at your happy expression that he longed for.

Oh, how much did he miss you.

"Who is that?" One of the dwarfs asked, cutting the small father-child reunion.

"This is my child, (Y/N)" Bilbo pointed at the child beside him, who smiled at the company before saluting them in the Eleven way.

"Greetings to Thorin II "Oakenshield son of Thráin II, king under the mountain and his company. I'm (Y/N) daughter of Bilbo Baggins, apprentice of Lord Elnord " You stood high earning a proud look out from Lord Elrond.

"Wait you have a child!!!" the dwarves' jaws dropped, except Thorin whose brain was connecting the dots. He understood now, why Bilbo Baggins' eyes lit up, why he was so eager to enter the palace, and why the Elef seem to know he was.

Biblo turns away hiding from the company glares. How dare he not tell us, that's what they all were thinking about, while you just stood there smiling so brightly like the sun, they had to close their eyes.

"But you look so much different than each other?" Kili voiced thorin question, which earned him a deep blush of embarrassment from Bilbo not like they could see it.

You look at your father, noticing the red on the tip of his ears making you giggle. You knew your father so you decided to explain.

"My father used to be..what was the name.." Your eyes turn to the right side "Ah…a playboy…My father used to be a playboy, he was known as beyond the shire, in all the lads and lasses." The dwarfs again turn to the shy Hobbit as he hides his face this time with his hands, as he remembers something.

"I'm Gorgon(child with snake hair) just like a mother" You elucidated when you notice the looks of disbelief in their eyes.

"That explains a lot" They nodded to each other, before turning back to Bilbo.

The hurt on Thorin was evident, and you notice it, as he glared at your father. Like he was ready to kill him. At first, it scared you until you notice the jealousy, and that is when it hit you. Thorin was in love with your father, and think that he's married. but does your father reciprocate this feeling?

Yes, he does! He was giving an apologetic smile to Thorin, who scoffed, and you saw an opportunity so you took it.

You tugged your father's sleeve before asking "Is he, my new mama?" You turn to Thorin when your father just kept looking at you with wide eyes "Are you my new mama?" Thorin'eyes almost popped out of his skull. He starts stuttering before he turned to the laughing dwarf with a glare that could shut up anyone, but they couldn't stop.

It was too hilarious, seeing flustered Thorin. Rare sight!

"(Y/N)!" Bilbo run to your side, "What?" you blinked innocently, "You luve him, he luves you and you are my pap so he is my new mama" You explained in a matter-of-fact tone, just causing the dwarves to laugh more and more, some were even on the floor, crying!

Even Lord Elnord and Gandalf were laughing, their heart out at the two flustered males.

#thorin x bilbo #father bilbo x child reader #xreader #xchild reader #The hobbit x reader #company x reader #request #first request #Dwarf #x child female reader #x child male reader

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 & 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ⚘ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐎𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

“Valyria is my home but it was taken or conquered or as Daenys foresaw… Destroyed. I do not belong here, I do not belong where my House has made its home, not even with you Oakenshield. No matter how much my heart craves for you.” ➳ (Y/n) Targaryen.

Twenty-three years ago, you appeared in Mirkwood. A small dragon perched on your shoulders, it hissed and breathed fire at anyone who came close. Rumors spoke of a dragon in the sky. The dragon would only come out at night and was a shadow, barely visible. The same dragon who remained in Mirwood with its rider, you.

Rumors become true when Thorin Oakenshield and his Company come face-to-face with the dragon and its rider. Thorin’s heart swears to despise each and every dragon, but how could he come to hate its rider who longs for a home as he does?

Content Warnings ➳ Female/Targaryen Reader, heavy angst, graphic description of violence and gore, blood and injuries, death, profanity, mainly strangers-to-lovers (slight enemies-to-loves)…

CHAPTERS ↓ Tumblr Only

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ༻ 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ༻ 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞-𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 (Coming Soon!!)

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. None of the photos used belong to me! Credits to @cafekitsune and @hitobaby for the dividers.

#x reader #x female reader #x Targaryen reader #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit thorin #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #lotr #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings #thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x you #thorin x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #targaryen reader #hotd x y/n #hobbit x reader

[deadlymistletoe]

Men and Flowers

Pairing: Dwalin x human!F!Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff

Description: Insecurities creep up on Dwalin when he sees you with a young, human man. How could you ever want a dwarf like him compared to that? Little does he know, there's only one person you want, and it’s not the human man.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2080 (My longest fic so far!)

It started when Gandalf convinced the company to stop for supplies in a little human town on their way to the mountains.

Well, technically it started as soon as Gandalf introduced you to the company. He’d always thought that if he found his one it would be a darrowdam with a long, thick beard, but no. Instead he felt a warm rush of feelings he wouldn’t admit to having when you, a very beardless human lass smiled at him.

Thorin would never let him live it down if he found out.

So here he stood, with the other dwarves, watching as you spoke to a lad running a market stall filled with fresh fruit and flowers.

The humans weren’t used to seeing dwarves (or hobbits) in their town, so naturally, you had been chosen to do the shopping and communicate with the humans while Gandalf had disappeared off to who-knows-where yet again.

Dwalin could feel a frown creeping up on his face as you laughed at something the young man said. The man was around your age, he could tell, and he was everything a dwarf wasn’t. 

His light brown hair was neat and tidy as it hung around his face, and he had less of a beard than Kili which was saying something. His face was scar and tattoo free, without any signs of living a hard life, and he clearly knew how to make a girl laugh.

You had lingered at the store longer than you needed to, admiring the bright flowers as the man chatted easily with you, and now Dwalin was scrutinizing things he wouldn’t have had you been anyone else.

The man certainly wasn’t bad looking when it came to humans, and Dwalin’s mood soured even more as you smiled, accepting a single periwinkle blue flower from the boy who was clearly trying to charm you-and succeeding. 

Dwalin was knocked out of his brooding when someone nudged him in the side, and he turned to see Thorin looking at him knowingly.

“You're glaring. If looks could kill the lad would be dead ten times over.” Thorin’s voice was low, if slightly amused, to keep the others from hearing.

“Am I?” Dwalin muttered, glancing back at where you were slowly making your way back towards them.

“I don’t think you could be more obvious if you tried.” Dwalin sent a scowl at his friend for his offhand comment.

“Can’t you point out the obvious elsewhere then?”

All Dwalin received in reply was a shrug as Thorin moved away towards his nephews, most likely to break up their bickering before they began tussling on the ground in front of the humans.

~

That night Dwalin let out a quiet sigh as he leant back against the rock he sat by, his pipe in his hand as he took the first watch.

He knew it shouldn’t bother him, but his mind kept going back to your smile at the human man. 

For the first time in his life, Dwalin was feeling something he’d never felt before; insecure.

Then again, since he met you, he’d been feeling a lot of things he’d never felt before. He’d never wanted to win someone's love and affections before.

In Erebor, and Ered Luin he was built like any other dwarf; stocky and strong with scars and tattoos that would only be admired. But it was different now. You were a human, so wouldn’t you prefer a human man? Someone tall enough to kiss the top of your head, without any scars or imperfections that other human women would frown upon.

And don’t even get him started on building a family. He didn’t even have a home, or a job. He couldn’t offer you any of the stability required to start a family, or even just make sure you had a safe, warm home to go back to every night. Besides, he was way too old for you being 169 while you were only in your twenties.

Surely a young human man, your own age, in a peaceful village with a stable job would be better suited to give you these things, to have a human family with.

Dwalin didn’t even have the resources to make you a courting bead, let alone gift you the jewels you deserve.

Dwalin winced, thinking back on how he’d treated you when you’d brought back the supplies. He’d been rash, still sour from seeing you with the young man, and given you nothing more than a displeased grunt when you tried to speak to him, brushing you off. And he’d still had a scowl on his face too.

He’d seen the hurt and confusion in your eyes before Fili and Kili had whisked you away to see what you’d bought. Even Thorin had given him a raised eyebrow once you were out of the way.

It had only given him a small bit of satisfaction when you’d handed the flower to a blushing Bilbo whom he knew you had no romantic interest in rather than keep it for yourself.

As he lay down on his bedroll (he noticed you’d put yours further from his than usual, and therefore closer to Thorin of all people) after waking Ori for his watch, he promised himself he’d make it up to you, whether he had a chance with you or not. The least he could do was have your friendship.

~

It was the next afternoon, when the company was setting up camp and you went to collect mushrooms from a small patch you’d seen earlier that Thorin nudged him.

At his questioning look, the king nodded towards where you’d disappeared into the forest. “She shouldn’t go alone. We don’t know what may be following us.”

Surprisingly, after the initial cold treatment, Thorin had warmed up to you. Maybe it was the dwarven instinct to be protective of their women as there were so few, but the king, and the rest of the company, had silently agreed to make sure you came out of this alive and as unscathed as possible.

Dwalin glanced at where you’d disappeared before picking up his axe and nodding, following your path into the forest, only pausing when a patch of delicate purple and white flowers caught his eye.

~

You hummed quietly as you crouched down on the forest floor, using your small dagger to carefully cut mushrooms from the patch growing and tuck them into the small bag that hung across your body. They would go nicely in the stew Bombour was going to cook that night.

You thought back to the previous day. It had been nice to stop in the town, seeing other people for a change. The dwarves and Bilbo had certainly grown on you, but they were all men and you hadn’t seen anyone else for a while, so it had been nice to see some other people, and the fresh groceries were worth it.

The only thing, or rather person, that confused you was Dwalin. When you’d first met, he was silent and said next to nothing, but you’d thought he’d been warming up to you.

He was happy to answer your questions, and even took the time to teach you to fight after the troll incident. He smiled at you sometimes, and you’d taken to sleeping not far from him, feeling safe with the warrior nearby.

You knew, if you’d been talking to a group of human girls like those you grew up with, you all would have been giggling over your crush. Because that’s what it was. A crush that was strengthening every day, and you were sure that by the end of the journey you would be fully in love with Dwalin, whether he cared or not.

But between visiting the town, and leaving it, something had changed. You weren’t ignorant. You had seen the glare he’d been giving you while you were at the final stall, and seen the scowl he’d been wearing when you’d tried to talk to him after and he brushed you off with an annoyed grunt.

He hadn’t talked to you since then, and the last night you’d even moved your bedroll away from him, lest he not want you near him and get annoyed.

You let out a harsh sigh as you put your dagger back in your boot and stood up.

“You sound frustrated.” You spun around, hand going towards the hunting knife strapped to your waist before you saw who had spoken.

Dwalin. You stiffened. “You startled me.”

The dwarf stood in front of you, leaning against a tree, axes strapped in place on his back. “That was not my intention. Thorin sent me to make sure you were alright.”

Well there went any hope he’d come because he wanted to. “Of course he did.” You headed for the path back to the camp, intent on ignoring him.

“Y/N.” You would have kept walking but a strong hand caught your arm, forcing you to stop. You huffed, refusing to look back at the dwarf.

There was a moment of silence, which you were about to break when Dwalin spoke. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you upset with me.”

You turned around, surprised. “Upset with you? I thought you were the one upset with me, although I can’t figure out why.”

The dwarf shook his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “I wasn’t upset with you. I had no good reason to be.”

You furrowed your brows, confused. “But you were glaring at me. At the market. And then you seemed annoyed.”

Dwalin looked surprised. “You noticed that?” Before you could speak he continued. “I wasn’t glaring at you. Not really.” You were about to ask just who he was glaring at then but he rushed on. “It was the lad. The young man serving you. He was flirting with you…”

You tilted your head. Yes, he’d been flirting with you, but you really weren’t interested. You much preferred a certain dwarf. “So?”

“So I was…” Dwalin broke off, looking to the ground. Flustered, you realized. “This is stupid.” He mumbled quietly.

He threw a bouquet of purple and white flowers you hadn’t realized he’d been holding behind his back to the ground at his feet.

You don’t know why it hit you then, but you blinked as you stared at the fallen flowers, realization washing over you.

“Were these for me?” You crouched down as you spoke, gently picking up the bouquet and brushing dirt off the petals. As you stood back up you noticed that the leather strip holding the stems together was the one Dwalin usually wore on his wrist, occasionally using it to hold his hair back.

You looked questionably at Dwalin who looked embarrassed as he watched you examine the flowers. “Like I said… It was stupid. I shouldn't have even hoped…” He paused, taking a breath. “You don’t have to say anything, lass. I get it.”

“Get what?” Did the warrior not realize he was making your wishes come true?

“You’re better off with that human man. He’s your own age, he’ll be able to give you a family… he’s not old, and scarred like me. You can’t tell me he’s not the ideal man every human woman in her right mind would hope to marry.” 

You took a breath. You never thought you’d see this. Dwalin was insecure… because of a human man. 

A rush of boldness hit you. “Then I guess I'm not in my right mind. Because I’d much rather marry you. Yes, he was sweet… but I much prefer strong, grumpy dwarves with lots of tattoos.”

The expression he gave you only made you continue. “I don’t need a house, or promises of a family. I want to be with someone because I love them, human or not, wealthy or not, it doesn’t matter.”

His expression grew more hopeful, although you could tell there were still doubts.

“I want someone who picks me flowers because they make him think of me. I want you Dwalin, can’t you see that?”

He moved closer, his voice rumbling as he brushed his fingers against your cheek. “I think I see it now.”

You smiled softly. Finally.

“Kiss me?”

“Of course. As many kisses as you want.”

~

And that night, when Dwalin set up his bedroll right next to yours and put his arm around you, the last thing you heard as you drifted off to sleep was his whispered words.

“I love you, Y/N.”

#the hobbit #imagines #female reader #the hobbit x reader #dwalin #dwalin x reader #thorin #dwalin imagine #my writing