#sweep your own front porch
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Five years ago, our neighbor sold his very nicely maintained home on the whim of his second wife. Sold it fast, below its value. Every time I post anything on another social media platform that shall remain nameless, the wife asks about “her” house. They knowingly sold it to someone who they knew was a bit odd, whatever that means.
The yard is a big mess, but having some weeds myself, I don’t judge. I’d rather be surrounded by neighbors like this rather than those who maintain a poison perfect lawn at the cost of our environment and precious water resources. 
Today I had enough, after she said some pretty ugly things about the person on my otherwise whimsical post. I typically never address her questions and I’m getting pretty tired of them after five years. Did I miss something? Do they still own the house? They don’t live too far away, so she can come and look for herself!
That said, my only response to her was…
🙈🙉🙊
It’s anybody’s guess if she will understand the message.
#be kind#kindness#drop judgment#be kind always#no matter#people in glass houses hold the stones#let it go#why do you care#sweep your own front porch#see no evil#speak no evil#hear no evil#monkeys
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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.
𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑
𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K
𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands.
You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact.
Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks.
He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you.
If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying.
"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle.
It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage.
Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him.
To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.
You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed.
The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door.
"Did you do it?"
"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes.
Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”
“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.”
“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool.
"Wait! What are you doing!"
Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."
You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”
"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”
That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.
You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.
He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?"
As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink.
It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.
"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?”
"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm.
"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch.
After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.
"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink.
Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts.
“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”
You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.
“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes.
“Oh… It got dirty.”
He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.”
You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.
He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”
Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete.
You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon.
His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see. A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be.
“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”
“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”
Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city.
It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.
He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note.
He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his.
“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”
He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”
“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”
“And?”
“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.”
Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead.
He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery.
“You liked the attention.”
You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.”
You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books.
“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”
Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money.
“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”
“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”
You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.
Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with.
“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.”
He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago.
Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so.
“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”
Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise.
“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you.
Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle.
Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window.
“You’ll be my boss?”
Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.
He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”
Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’ bikes ‘n engines.”
Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business.
“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”
𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
#ari levinson#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson fanfic#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson au#ari levinson x fem!reader#ari levinson x female reader#mafia ari levinson#mafia au#mafia!ari levinson#ari levinson x you#reader insert#melting au#ari levinson x lovesick!reader#lovesick!reader#sonny’s stories#chris evans#Chris evans fanfic#Chris evans fanfiction#Chris evans characters#chris evans x reader#ari levinson fluff#lovesick reader#tw mafia#ari levinson x Stripper!reader#sweet!reader#ari levinson one shot#red sea diving resort
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Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Pt. 1
Hello hello! So, I'm fully insane about this man rn. I can't help it. The brain rot has taken over my life and here we are lol. I wanted to write something that really focuses on the domestic fluff side of Reader's life with William, of course there will be some smut thrown in there too because I simply can't help myself 😂😂 Reader and William have just bought their first house together. This story follows their week long escapade of unpacking, making their home perfect, and going down memory lane. Lots of super cute stuff, chapters containing smut will be updated with proper warnings. If you enjoy this story and would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT AHEAD, smut marked with divider, age gap (reader in 30's William in 40's/50's), some swearing, face sitting, cockwarming, size kink, a singular (1) spank to readers ass, slightly dom! William, praise, Will just wants to give his wife some tender TLC after a long day of lugging boxes around (if I missed any please let me know!
You can find my Masterlist here!
Word Count: 3,538
Part 2
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“I want to paint the living room green, I think it would look nice with our couch.” William drove down the road, a soft smile on his face as he listened to you ramble on about all of your plans for their new house. Business at the pizzeria had skyrocketed, which meant that he could finally give his pretty little wife the front porch, white picket fence house of her dreams. You should be pulling in about a half hour before the moving truck is scheduled to arrive, allowing the two of you time to empty out his trunk. You stood at his side with a giddy smile on your face, William thumbing through his key ring to find the new shiny gold addition to his collection. He slides the key into the lock, chuckling at your excited squeals as he pushes the door open. He grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from running inside ahead of him.
“Isn’t there some old wives tale about carrying your wife over the threshold of a house?” He mumbles out the vague details he could remember. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle.
“It’s for good luck. Why? Do you want to carry me inside?” You smile coyly up at him.
“Well I’m not going to be the one bringing bad luck into our house.” He proclaims proudly, jabbing a finger into his chest. You let out a shriek as he scoops you up in his strong arms. You press a kiss to his scruffy cheek as you pass through the door. “Well, Mrs. Afton, welcome home.” He smiles down at you.
You spun around the empty living room floor, broom in hand as you did a quick sweep before the furniture got brought in. “Oh, Will, I'm so happy. Our own house.” You beam up at him. Your husband breathes out a chuckle, sweeping you up in his arms as he places a kiss to your forehead. Both of your attention was drawn to the windows as the moving truck rumbled into the driveway.
“Don't lift anything too heavy.” He orders with a firm point of his finger. “I hired movers so you don't have to struggle, if I see you doing too much you're going to be in big trouble later bunny.” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you place a kiss to his chest.
“I promise I won't work too hard.” You fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just want everything to be perfect.” You sigh with a slight shrug of your shoulders.
“I promise it will be, we have the whole week to get everything exactly how you want it.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing languidly across your waist. You excitedly threw open the front door, directing the movers inside before clamoring out to the truck yourself. William trailed after you, keeping a close eye on your excited figure. Your husband loved how passionate you were about everything you did, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself. He sighs as he sees you struggling with a box, gently taking it from your hands and propping it against his hip. He glances around the trailer. “Here.” He nudges a box with his foot, one he had made a subtle marking on to signify it was one he packed light enough for you to easily carry. “Take that one, we’ll go put these in the bedroom.” He hops down from the back of the truck, taking your box from you and wrapping his hands around your waist to lower you safely to the ground. You practically skipped up the porch steps, scooting past the movers as you raced up to the master bedroom. Your mattress sat in the middle of the room. The white, sheetless bed was a stark contrast to the nearly black hardwood.
“We’ll need to go get a bed frame.” You sigh, setting down the box before collapsing on the mattress. William groans as he lays down by your side.
“I’m sure we’re going to have to get a lot of things.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “We’ll take care of everything, doll, don’t worry.” You spent the rest of the afternoon sliding furniture around downstairs while the movers brought in the rest of the boxes. The sun had already set by the time everything was brought in. You collapsed onto the couch with a tired groan, finally kicking your shoes off as you sank into the worn leather of the cushions. William sits beside you, lifting your feet only to drop them back in his lap. You let out a pleased hum as you feel his strong hands knead into your aching muscles. “Day one is officially over.” The two of you exchange a sleepy high five. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you take a moment to look at your husband. His gold, wire framed aviators sitting low on his nose, his large calloused hands massaging your feet with the utmost care and delicacy. You were William’s entire world.
“Honey,” he perks up at your soft voice, calling out to him, “how about I throw something together for dinner so we can get to bed.”
“I don’t think we have any groceries bunny.” He rebuttals with a chuckle. “Are you up for a drive? We could go pick up some pizza.”
“But it’s so cold.” You pout.
“I’ll go grab you one of my coats, sweet girl.” He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you. You let out a soft hum as you buried your face into the soft fabric of your husband's coat, the comforting smell of his spicy, musky cologne, machine oil, and cigarettes filling your nose. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he drove up twisting back roads. The radio crackled softly, whatever song was playing was barely audible over the car's loud blower. You rested your hand on his thigh, William glancing down quickly, the sight of your wedding ring glinting in the soft light bringing a smile to his lips. He loved the fact that you were all his, his pretty wife, his little bunny. He loved how sweet and delicate you were. He had been hardened by years of working in his workshop and other strenuous jobs he had throughout his life, he barely registered this evening was brisk let alone cold. But he definitely wouldn't complain about you cuddling into his side for warmth, how your cheeks and the tip of your nose dusted pink from the chilly night air, how your fingers trembled as you tucked them under his thigh. He shuddered softly as you pressed your lips to his neck, the buzzing, yellow light from the pizza shop's sign illuminating the cab as you and your husband exchanged a look filled with need.
“Hurry back.” You shoot him a coy smile as he stumbles from the car.
The smell of warm crust and greasy pepperoni filled the car, the pizza nicely heating your lap. William’s arm draped over your shoulder, you allowed the rumbling car ride to rock you into his side. Your eyelids grow heavy as you try to keep yourself awake, a sleepy smile crawling across your features as you pull into the driveway. You sighed as you looked around at the mess of moving boxes, your dining table tucked away into a corner that would be too much work to get to. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch doll, I’ll be right back.” William’s hand quickly slips into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he passes by. You flop back into the cushions, letting the pizza box rest next to you. Even with the short amount of time you’ve spent in the house you could tell how different it was from your old apartment. You and William had moved to the middle of the woods in Hurricane, your nearest neighbor at least ten minutes down the road. There were no sounds of your neighbors talking quietly through the walls, no footsteps of the dog that lived upstairs. The house was completely silent, outside completely pitch black. You jumped as William’s feet started to thud down the stairs. He pushes into the living room with a groan, dragging your mattress behind him. He drops the bed in the middle of the floor with a dull thump, twisting side to side in order to stretch out his back. “I’ll go grab some pillows and blankets.” He smiles at you.
“It’s just like our honeymoon.” You laugh as he pulls you up from the couch. He tilts your chin up with his finger, capturing your lips with his.
“Oh, trust me,” he starts in a sultry tone, “I wish I could spend this entire week in bed with you.” You dropped down onto the mattress, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he massages your shoulders. You smile at him as you watch him disappear upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a box full of your bedding and some pillows. Deciding you weren’t up for the challenge you left the sheets in the box. You piled your comforter and a few throw blankets onto the bed, you crawled in before your husband joined you with the pizza. You two sit side by side, your head falling to rest against his shoulder.
“It’s no Freddy’s.” You grumble at your lackluster pizza. William chuckles in response to your pouting.
“How about we swing by and see Henry tomorrow, I’m sure I can sneak you a piece.” He winks with a lopsided grin.
“That sounds perfect.” The two of you chat quietly as you eat your dinner. Your new house feels too big for just the two of you. You laid on your back, staring at the exposed wood ceiling, you blinked a few times to adjust to the all consuming darkness after William had turned off the light. You felt the blankets shift as he crawled into bed next to you. His silhouette outlined by the soft, pale light of the moon that streamed through the window.
“We should get a dog.” He suddenly whispers, making you giggle. “I don’t want you to get scared all by yourself.” He teases.
“Maybe that’ll get you out of that workshop earlier.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist.
“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from coming to visit me.” He argues with a slight shrug.
“Except that everytime I do I end up sprawled naked on your workbench.” You smirk at him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material of his tshirt.
“Occupational hazard.” He responds quickly. You both laugh as you cuddle into his chest. He cards his fingers through your hair, his lingering gaze studying your features. “You’re so beautiful, bunny.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush over yours.
His hand paws at your thigh, dragging your leg over his waist as he crushes you against him. You cup his face, deepening the kiss, his beard tickling your palm as you melt into him. Your legs lock around his waist as he rolls on top of you. His large, calloused hands wrap around your sides, pushing your hoodie up and over your head in one swift motion before his lips connect with yours again. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your naked body. He practically purrs at the sight of you, his lips hovering over your neck. Your fingers slid into his hair, a small squeal escaping your lips as he bit down hard on your sensitive skin. You bite your lip, letting out a soft hum as he pushes his hips into you, his already growing bulge noticeable through your thin shorts. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me today, could you rabbit?” He smirks against your skin. You practically drooled over the sight earlier. William had a box resting on each shoulder, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. He paused as he caught sight of you leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest as your eyes raked over him. He smirked, knowing that playful glint in your eye. He smiled as he noticed your cheeks reddening from your position laying below him. He hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, placing featherlike kisses down your stomach as he eases them down your legs. You moan softly as you feel him nip at the skin of the inside of your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as he brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. With how busy you had both been due to the move it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate. Your skin was already on fire from the small touch alone, William smirked as he watched your reaction closely. Your hands fisted in the blankets as he tossed your legs over his shoulders, his hot breath bouncing off your already soaked core. His arms slip around your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dove into hungrily lap at your folds. You moan out his name, already attempting to squirm away from his assault. He growls, dragging you closer to him. His fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising force, sure to leave marks behind. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit through your lace panties. He ate you out like a man starved, your soft gasps and quiet moans echoing in the empty room. You whined, tugging on his hair. “What’s the matter bunny?” He pushes your panties out of the way with his fingers, his skin growing slick with your arousal.
“I need you.” You whined, looking down at him with pleading, teary eyes. William gives in immediately with a soft chuckle, never one to deny you what you wanted. He tugs down your panties, placing soft kisses to your legs as he removes your final article of clothing at an agonizingly slow pace. He slides an arm under your back, pulling you on top of him as he collapses into the mattress. Your hands landed on either side of his head as you lost your balance, you blushed as you realized you were sitting on his broad, strong chest. He brushes your hair behind your ear before both of his hands wrap around your thighs.
“Come sit, bunny.” He coos, your face burning at his casual command. William absolutely loved whenever you sat on his face. However, he was well aware he would have to warm you up to the idea whenever he suggested it. You were always worried you were too heavy, you hadn't shaved, or you hadn't showered, and your husband always reassured you that none of those things were going to pose any problems for him. His beard tickled the inside of your thighs as you hovered over his eager mouth. His hands squeezed at your hips, groaning as your soft skin squished between his fingers. You cry out as he pushes you down onto him, his tongue lapping at your clit before he shoves his way in between your folds.
“Oh, fuck! Will!” You moan, your hips moving on their own. You let out a soft sob everytime his nose bumps against your clit. He growls, pressing hard into your hips as you try to wiggle away, his assault on your already sensitive cunt threatening to push you over the edge mere minutes after he starts. “Baby, it's too much.” Your voice shook as you tried to plead with him, years slipping from your damp eyes onto your cheeks as the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter. William’s eyes were hazy as they met yours, his face smothered in your thighs as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth. You tug his hair, making you groan against him. “I'm gonna cum.” It was all too much for you to handle, your body losing its rhythm as your climax threatened to rip through you. William let out an affirmative hum below you, knowing you were close by the slowing of your movements. He decides it's time for him to take over, determined to make you cum on his tongue. His fingers dig into the curve of your ass as he gradually increases the pace of your hips. You yelped as one of his hands suddenly connects with your skin, the mixture of pleasure and slight pain causing your soaked cunt to throb. Broken moans and whines rumbled effortlessly from your mouth, the fine tuned roaming of his hands paired with his expert tongue knowing just how you wanted to be touched to fall apart in his hands. William never got tired of making you finish. The way you would fall absolutely silent and still for a moment, mouth hanging open as no sound dared escape, your body taking time to catch up to the immense pleasure you were feeling. Now was no different. William felt his cock twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, that brief moment of absolute silence making his ears ring before you screamed his name. He forced your hips to keep moving, never allowing your pace to slow as he felt your thighs shaking against his cheeks. You practically collapsed as he finally pulled his mouth off of you, a firm hand on your lower back keeping you upright as you shakily moved yourself back onto his chest. William reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping away tears that streaked down your skin. Your eyes felt heavy, you struggled to keep them open and on your husband as you came down from your high.
“Do you want to lay down?” He asks in a soft tone. You nod, collapsing into the mattress with a happy sigh. You hear the soft shuffling of William getting undressed before he gets under the blankets with a groan. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over your waist before your pulled back against him. You can't help but giggle slightly as you feel his erection pressed firmly against your back.
“You want some help with that?” You press yourself into him, his breath catching in his throat at the contact as he tries to stifle a growl.
“You can't even keep your eyes open bunny.” He chuckles, you smile as you feel it rumble in his chest. You let out a dismissive sound, giving him a slight shrug. “How about we compromise?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. Your eyes slide shut, letting out a soft hum as you feel his rough hands roaming over your skin. His fingers dip in between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart. You gasp as you feel his member prod at your entrance. “I could always fill you up before we go to bed.” He offers with a smirk, your face instantly flushing at the thought of cuddling up with your husband, trying not to squirm too much as he impaled you on his thick cock. You give him a nervous yet excited nod, the sight of you looking at him so sweetly as you chewed on your lip making it hard for him to not flip you over and pound you into the mattress. William assisted you holding your legs open, one massive paw wrapped around your thigh to allow him room to attempt to fit inside of you. You gripped tightly onto the sheets as he slowly began to push inside, the stretch from making it barely past his tip intense due to the lack of prep. “That's it sweetheart, just relax.” He purrs in your ear, pressing his lips to your shoulder. Another roll of his hips makes you whimper, feeling him slip slightly deeper into your fluttering cunt.
“Fuck, ‘s too big, ‘s not going to fit.” Your words slut as you tried to focus enough to speak. His pace was agonizing, you could feel every inch of him and every thick vein sliding over your velvety walls. You let out a shuddering breath as he finally bottoms out in you, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. You felt like you would break in half at the smallest wrong move, even your slight shifting as you cuddled up with William had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.
“Such a good bunny, taking all of me so well.” His lips trail over your neck, you feel him smirk as you clench around him, repeatedly kissing and teasing what he knew was a rather sensitive spot of skin.
Your fingers intertwined with his, his strong arms wrapped protectively around as you're held flush to his chest.
“I love you.” You say quietly, feeling sleep trying it's hardest to pull you under. He gives your hand a soft squeeze.
“And I love you, sweet girl.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)
#fnaf#fnaf movie#william afton#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie spoilers#springtrap#steve raglan#william afton x reader#william afton smut#william afton imagines#william afton fnaf#fnaf william afton#william afton x yn#william afton x y/n#william afton x reader smut#william afton x you#fnaf steve raglan#steve raglan x reader#steve raglan x you#steve raglan smut#matthew lillard x reader#matthew lillard smut#matthew lillard imagine#fnaf x y/n#fnaf x you#fnaf x reader#mdni#skeleton writes
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Overwhelmed
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Prompt: Reader has bouncing between so many things in her life that is leaving her chronically exhausted. It hasn’t been too much of a problem until one afternoon. The only one that seems to notice is JJ.
Warnings: Near death experience
The blinding sun crinkles your eyes as you drive your way to the Chateau. Sweat beats down your entire body from the day working with your father. He is a construction worker with his own company, and you work with him during the summer for some spending money. Even though he is your father, he still has you doing all the same heavy lifting as anyone else that works for him.
Normally every summer has been fine. You also work at a local gym on Figure 8 almost every day for a few hours. You’d work with your dad in the morning, work at the gym in the afternoon, and hangout or relax with your friends in the evening.
Though for some reason this summer your dad thinks any free time you have will be with him, unless you’re sleeping of course. You’ve had talks with him, and he always seems to be on the same page. That is until he starts telling you all that he needs help with and how you are going to come and help before and after the gym all week.
Luckily today ended up being a day he didn’t have much for you to do. Instead of wasting another second you made a beeline for your friends before he could change his mind. You love your dad, and the extra cash, but trying to keep up with work and maintaining your social life leaves very little room to just breathe.
Though you find yourself struggling to try. From the constant buzz of life that has become almost normal, you find yourself getting anxious anytime you are just laying around. Even if you are with your friends. Anytime you aren’t on the boat or helping with the newest endeavor of finding the gold, you feel like you should be doing something.
“Hey it’s my girl!” JJ shouts from the couch on the porch. Beer in hand.
“Hey babe.” You say with a smile after greeting him with a kiss. “Did you guys catch anything on the boat?”
“Not much but we did manage to save some leftovers for you,” your best friend John B offers. “It’s only been sitting out a few minutes.”
Feeling your stomach rumble, you assure him that you are hungry enough to eat it raw. Walking into the kitchen you let your smile faulter. You allow the wandering exhaustion to settle over you for a moment. Holding back the exhaustion is exhausting enough.
You feel the nice warm water wash your hands of drywall dust, paint, and sweat. Heading over to the counter you find your plate and grab a fork before rejoining the boys. Kie apparently has to work tonight since she was out all day with the boys. Though she promised to come back over after her shift at The Wreck.
You take the empty seat next to JJ, and as you do an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. As you dig into your dinner you hope that the guys haven’t noticed. If they ask you if everything is okay, you’re afraid some tears of frustration and tiredness would break through. Instead you focus your attention on the food in front of you and the latest pointless debate between the boys. Before you know it, every last bite on the plate is gone.
“Hey lets go back out on the HSM Pogue!” John B excitedly gets up. “Sun is setting, nice night dip.”
Everyone excitedly agrees and you head into the spare bedroom to slip into your swimsuit. As you pull up your straps, completing your ensemble, there is a knock on the door. Without asking who it is, you tell them to come in. Only one person would want to come in and that is JJ. It is basically his room after all.
Closing the door behind him, JJ takes in the sight of you. The newly defined muscles on your arms and legs from the work with your dad. You can’t complain about the benefit of the job. Though when his eyes meet yours all you can see is concern.
“If you’d rather stay in and relax I’ll stay with you.” JJ offers you. An overwhelming sweep of adoration floods through your senses, but next comes the wave of anxiety. No, I can’t do nothing.
“It’s okay, we can go on the boat.” Your voice upbeat and convincing of the energy you do not contain. “I’m fine.”
Even as the last two words leave your lips, tears form behind your eyes. Thankfully the room is dark, no power on the Cut from the hurricane. Unconvinced, JJ nods and heads back out with the other two. You take two deep breathes as you clear your eyes and slow your now racing heart. With a quick nod at yourself in the mirror, you make your way out to the HSM Pogue.
The sound of the waves hitting against the boat is almost enough to pull you to sleep. That and the warmth of JJ’s arm around your waist. Leaning into him you find your eyes fluttering shut every few minutes. If this wasn’t the first time you’d physically seen everybody in days, you would have just stayed at the Chateau with JJ.
Situating yourself, you lean toward the cooler for a cold beer. Even though you know alcohol is a narcotic it just gives you something to do than think about how tired you are. From the corner of your eye you see JJ analyzing you. Aside from a beer here and there, you aren’t much of a drinker. It isn’t until you send him a smile that he drops his watchful gaze and smiles back.
“This looks like a good spot.” John B insists as he slows the boat to a stop and throws the anchor over.
The four of you jump into the cool water. The sudden alertness gifted by the water sends you through the break into the sky. Though as your body adjusts to its temperature the feeling of exhaustion returns.
JJ wraps his arms around you and peppers your face with kisses. Squealing, you try to pry him away from you but your efforts are futile. Taking your frame in his, JJ manages to throw you a few feet in the direction of Pope. Who of course fakes offence at the unseen attack. Water is thrashed around by each person until a full blown water war breaks out.
Swimming around to the boat, you take deep breathes as you watch the boys continue splashing around. You plan to hide out for a bit before climbing onto the boat and performing a cannon ball that will soak everyone. The splash to end all splashes. Not wanting to spoil the fun yet, you float on your back in the water.
You close your eyes and feel the cool water soak into your warm skin. The aches and pains from the day’s work unravel from your body. Dark clouds filter behind your eyelids as the sounds around you become more muffled. You know you should get up but you can’t will your body to move.
The water around you laps farther up your face, and within a few moments you’re completely submerged into the water. Making the mistake to breathe, a burning sensation fills your lungs and your body fights out of its own slumber. But you’ve already breathed in too much water and your body is still too exhausted to propel your body toward the surface.
**
Looking around JJ realizes that he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a few minutes. He calls out (Y/N)’s name while circling around the boat. Giving up on swimming, JJ climbs up on the boat and surveys around the best he can in the dark.
Panic rises within JJ’s chest and his breathing becomes labored. JJ knew he should have suggested harder that you two stay at the Chateau. He could tell through (Y/N)’s eyes how exhausted she truly is. Just a few nights ago he went to surprise her at home. Crawled in through her window with a big bag of snacks and drinks that will keep her up well into the night. However, the moment JJ wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) was knocked out cold.
With his shaking hands, JJ grabs for a flashlight and shines it on the water. JJ knows he won’t be able to see anything but he can’t think straight. Just before he is ready to radio for help he sees a bubble rise to his right.
Not wasting any time, JJ dives into the water. His eyes spot (Y/N) a few feet down from him, unmoving. A shot of ice cold fear radiates through his body as he fights his limbs to move him toward (Y/N). JJ wraps his arms around her waist and propels his legs to break the surface above.
“HELP!!” JJ screams to John B and Pope. “HELP!!”
The guys hear him and turn to face his panic-stricken face. Realizing that (Y/N) is in JJ’s arms, the guys spring into action. John B gets onto the boat while Pope joins JJ and lifts (Y/N)’s limp body. JJ grabs onto the boat and pulls his body up and is quickly joined by Pope.
“Tell me how to do CPR!” JJ frantically shouts to Pope.
“You think I know?”
“You’re the fucking genius,” JJ lays you flat on your back, “so help me goddammit! I can’t lose her!”
“Okay okay!” Pope presses his fingers against his temple as he thinks about what to do. “Chest compressions! Two sets of 30 and then mouth to mouth. Check for breathing and then start over!”
JJ places his hands over (Y/N)’s chest and begins to press up and down. His actions start off timid, afraid that he will hurt her but feverishly picks up when he sees there is no change. Lowering his mouth to (Y/N)’s, JJ breathes air past her lips and sees her chest rise and fall. JJ can’t believe that only moments ago the last time he was this close the two of you were kissing, and now he is trying to breathe life into her.
I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s my everything. I can’t lose her…
JJ presses up and down (Y/N)’s chest to this mantra. Years ago, his mother left and his father became a raging drunk who is always on someone else’s meds. (Y/N) made him stable, made his life feel stable. Without her, JJ is scared he will end up just like his father. (Y/N) has showed him that there is more to life than the Outer Banks. They always talked about leaving one day, buying a house, running a business, and eventually starting their own family. Right now, all those happy plans are slipping past JJ’s fingertips along with (Y/N).
**
A burning rush of water flows up your throat as a coughing fit surges through your chest. Grabbing on to something nearby, you flip on your side to help expel the contents. Even as all the water leaves your system you keep coughing and feel as though you will never stop.
After what feels like forever, your coughing subsides and you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso. As you take in what happened, you feel your body begin to shake at the realization that you could have died. Tears flood your cheeks and fall against JJ’s bare shoulders. That’s when you register that JJ is shaking as well.
“JJ,” you say as your hand holds the back of his head, “I’m okay. It’s okay.”
JJ doesn’t speak but shakes his head against your skin. His head fits in the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing in your sent. It’s as if he doesn’t believe that you are awake and breathing.
“JJ look at me.” You whisper.
Reluctantly JJ’s eyes meet yours. You see his blood shot eyes and tear-stricken face. JJ leans his forehead against yours as his fingers run through your hair. A pit hits the bottom of your stomach as you think about how worried JJ was and how reckless you were.
“Next time,” JJ takes a deep breath as his voice catches, “can we just stay at the Chateau?”
“Yes, yes.” You sigh in relief.
JJ connects your lips with his. The kiss starts off soft and gentle, but JJ quickly turns it hungry and desperate. It’s as if he needs you instead of air. In this moment you make yourself a promise that you won’t over work yourself from now on. You’ve realized that you aren’t the only one that will become overwhelmed.
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank oneshot#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank oneshots#Rudy Pankow x reader#Rudy Pankow x you#Rudy Pankow x i#OBX#JJ OBX#jj maybank x y/n#rudy pankow x y/n#obx masterlist#fanfiction#obx fanfiction#obx fanfic#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank fanfiction#rudy pankow fanfiction#rudy pankow fanfic
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I like to imagine Haitham as the kind of guy who would help out his cute neighbor… sfw (f!reader) 🌱
When he sees you carrying a ton of bags from the market, he’ll turn around to aid you, even if this trip will take him out of his way. Even when you assure him that you’ve got it, your strained expression tells him all he needs to know. He swiftly transfers the bags into his own arms, unfazed by the weight he’s carrying uphill and up the front steps of your home. He doesn’t get why you thank him so profusely, as if he’d saved your house from a fire or something. If he didn’t see this task as something worthwhile, he simply wouldn’t have stopped to help. It was a rational choice. One that was definitely not influenced by anything else.
When he sees you sweeping your front porch with a sprained hand, he heads across the street without a second thought (leaving Kaveh and his nagging behind). He doesn’t say a word, not even a ‘good morning’ as he takes the broom from your un-injured hand in order to complete the task for you. Only when he feels you staring in shock does he offer a hum of acknowledgment and a short ‘go back inside. I’ll let you know when I’m finished’. You want to stand there and keep him company… but you listen to what he says, going back inside in order to hide your flushed face. You offer him a snack as payment for his good deed and insist he takes it. So he does. After he’s done, he simply walks back across the street, disappearing and leaving you standing there as if he was never there at all. The only evidence of his presence was the clean porch…
When he sees a commotion down by the docks, a circle of people laughing as an unlucky person is swarmed by a bird. The bird squawks as it tries to grab whatever is in the poor person’s arms, presumably food, the thing only getting more aggressive as time goes on. Haitham sighs at the sight, bothered by the way no one attempts to assist this person. He nudges his way through the crowd, eyes widening as he realizes who this person is. It’s you. Calmly and quickly, he removes his cape, making his way over to slap the bird out of the air with the heavy fabric. Feathers fly and the bird hits the ground. Confused and disoriented, it gives up on attacking in favor of flying away, retreating to wallow in a tree elsewhere. Haitham turns towards the crowd, frowning at the spectators. “Shame on you all. How can you call yourselves men if you stand there and allow a lady to be attacked like that?” Before anyone can argue, he’s leading you away to check you for injuries in a less crowded area. His frown deepens at the scratch on your cheek and the other down your arm. He marches you up to the hospital, standing wordlessly by your side as you’re bandaged up. You can’t believe that he did all of that for you… he risked being scratched or bit just to help you- he even shamed those sailors… And when he took you home, he gave you fifty mora to cover the loss of whatever food you dropped whilst being attacked. He looked like he wanted to say something, like he didn’t want ti leave your side, but he left, looking over his shoulder to make sure you made it inside before going into his own home.
When he heads to the tavern, intending on playing cards with Kaveh and his buddies for awhile, he immediately finds his attention drawn towards you. You’re sat in a booth all alone, dressed up as if on a date- but judging by your slumped posture and diss appointed expression, he concludes that your date never showed up. He reasons with himself that it would be rude to leave you there, one can’t simply ignore a girl who looks miserable, nearly on the verge of tears. So, abandoning the idea of invocation tcg, Haitham easily slides into the booth across from you. You’re stunned, eyes wide as you try to ask what he’s doing. “You got all dressed up just for some fool to flake out on you. It would be a shame to waste all the effort you went through. We can share drinks and a dessert together” For good measure, he even reached across the table to hold your hand gently in his own. With your free hand, you wipe your tears away, allowing yourself to smile at the kind gesture. The scholar listened to you talk, bought you drinks as promised, told some stories of his own. At the end of the date he walked you home with his arm linked with yours. You noticed how he flushed a bright red and avoided making eye contact, his behavior much different than it had been back at the tavern. He hesitated at your door, seeming to contemplate his own actions before settling on something appropriate for a first date. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, warm breath fanning across your face. Maybe it was your imagination… but when he crossed the street back to his own house, he seemed to move a lot faster than usual (unbeknownst to you, he was sweating and shaking from nerves when he shut the door, pressing his back against it as he cringed at his own awkward behavior… get a grip haitham!!)
The next time he sees you, it’s to fulfill his own selfish desire. Not because you need him, because he needs you. After time spent thinking about your date, thinking about how you made him feel, he came to the conclusion that he loved you. He consulted books to help him decipher his feelings and had a short chat with Kaveh on the subject of love. It took a week for him to muster the courage to approach you again, worried that his awkwardness he displayed at the end of your date would have weirded you out. Finally, he headed out to find you. He knew you wouldn’t be home now, you’d be out buying something to make for dinner. With a sense of urgency, he made his way through the crowded market square. This time, you found him first. You touched his arm to get his attention and once you had it, he tugged you side to speak to you away from the crowd. He asked what you were up to… you showed him what you’d gotten so far. Naturally, he took your bags to carry for you. “I uh… I would like to invite you out. Perhaps tomorrow after I return from work, we can both get dressed up and go somewhere,” he offers, avoiding your gaze once again “Last time you were dressed up for someone else. You were waiting for someone else but I want to take you out… I want… I’d like to-“ for fuck’s sake, he finds himself stumbling- he never stumbles. This is the effect you have on him. “I want to be the one to take you on a date- a spontaneous outing where we could do anything you desire. I want to make you happy…” he bites the inside of his cheek to get himself to shut up, he almost can’t even bear to look at you after making such a big fool of himself. Then suddenly you’re on him, hugging him with that bright smile on your face, telling him how you’d love to go out together. He relaxes into your touch, resting his chin on the top of your head momentarily as he gathers himself. Tomorrow at eight, the two of you will do something. Maybe you’ll go out to eat, maybe you’ll see a show. Who knows… it’s fun to not have everything planned out sometimes.
A street no longer separates the two of you. Now, the only space between you is a few inches as you lay beside him in bed. His chivalrous behavior only continues as you live together. Haitham reaches for things for you, carries heavy things for you, holds doors for you. To him, it’s all rational. Of course he would grab a vase from the top shelf for you, you couldn’t reach it. Naturally, he would do the heavy lifting! Why else would he work out? And he would always hold the door for you because that’s what you do for someone you love. It’s simple. It’s logical. Love is a lot more logical than he thought it would be. It’s logical to make you breakfast in bed because you love when he does. It’s logical to live under one roof because if you didn’t, you would be going back and forth between houses all day. It’s logical to sleep in for five more minutes because holding you like this makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world.
#I’ll edit in the morning !!#genshin impact#genshin impact writing#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#he’s so 0_0#f!reader
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arrangements - geto x reader
pairing: suguru geto x reader
rating: 18+
summary: There was something scary about Suguru Geto, he was an imposing man. Even when he smiled there was an aura of fear around him. But as his wife, you had to look past that. You had to be devoted to him for all of your days, just as you were instructed when you got married. But there were still times that Geto scared you.
tags: forced marriage, smut, pwp, breeding, housewife!reader, pregnancy kink, geto wanted a bunch of mini suguru’s around the house asap, pure filth.
There was something scary about Suguru Geto, he was an imposing man. Even when he smiled there was an aura of fear around him. But as his wife, you had to look past that. You had to be devoted to him for all of your days, just as you were instructed when you got married. But there were still times that Geto scared you.
You were inside of the large home you shared with Geto, you had just served him and his allies green tea and kept yourself busy. You didn't need to know their plans, you were his simple wife. You had a higher purpose than fighting alongside your husband.
You swallowed as you swept the porch that led out to the massive garden in the back. You knew what your purpose was within the organization, that was to have as many children as possible with Geto. To bring a new generation of special grade sorcerers into the world. You weren't a particularly strong fighter but the women in your family did easily pass the father's curse genes to their children. And that's what Geto wanted, after all he was perfect. And therefore needed a wife to pass the strength along.
You had only been married a few weeks, even at your wedding Geto pulled up your dress and sank his hard cock into you. Since you signed the paperwork, he hadn't stopped until you were pregnant. The thought of having his children made you blush, you knew he wouldn't stop at once and it would be something you'd do repeatedly.
You continued to sweep and mind your own business until you heard the back doors open. You looked over your shoulder and saw your husband walk out, his intimidating frame towered over you as he came closer.
As he got closer, you noticed a small splatter of blood on his cheek. You swallowed and put your broom to the side. You put your hands in front of you and bowed gently to your husband. You heard him chuckle.
”Still scared of me, little one?“ He asked as he placed a finger on your chin and lifted your head. He then cupped your cheek and leaned in for a kiss.
”No, Suguru.“ You responded as you leaned up and kissed him on the lips. The kiss was almost sweet if Geto's hands didn't trail down your body and began to undo the tie of your yukata.
It was decorated with flowers and snakes. You looked divine in it so your husband didn't want to rip it off of you with his immense strength. Before you could say anything he said, ”They've all gone home, it's just us now.“
You nodded and helped get undressed. No one could see you over the high wall that surrounded the home you lived in. Geto wanted to protect his precious wife, make sure no one could ever hurt you. If something happened to you, he wasn't too sure what he'd do with himself.
Soon you were in a mis-matched bra and panties even your flip flops you wore outside were off of you. Your bra was the kind that matched your skin tone and your panties were cute little yellow and blue stripes over white cotton. Your thighs pressed together as you stood there.
Geto took a good look at your form before he said, ”Get those off too, little one.“ His voice was low and it struck you to your core. He started to get off his elaborate attire, including the gold kasaya garment he wore.
He was so toned under all those layers. He carried a strength that corresponded with the muscles on his body. You swallowed as you hastily got your bra off and let it fall to the ground. Soon your panties fell to the floor too which you stepped out of, leaving yourself vulnerable to him.
He soon undressed, he kept his gaze on you for the most part and you blushed under the weight of it. You stood there naked on the back porch, your body exposed to your husband. Geto became aroused even more by the sight of your lovely body. He licked his lips and imagined you with a swollen middle, carrying pregnancy so well. Knowing that you were the one carrying his children, and there would be no one else to have such an honor.
You were soon both left nude and Geto grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a deeper kiss as the cicadas made noises in the trees away from you. It was the middle of summer so it was the perfect time for husband and wife to try and make a child.
Geto helped you down onto the porch, he used your clothes to protect your back from the hot wood. He didn't want his wife to get burned. He licked his lips once more as he watched you lie down, looking up at him with love in your eyes. You were wholly devoted to him and nothing was going to change that. Nothing could break you two apart, even if you died Geto would simply bring you back. Not even death could separate you two.
He admired your body under him, you looked like a dream with all your soft curves and the slope of your breasts. You were a sight to behold as he pictured you swollen with his children, caring for them around the home and being the perfect, doting wife.
He got your legs around his waist as he rubbed his cock up against your sweet cunt, he smiled to himself as he gazed down at you. There was almost love in his eyes if he wasn't so possessive over you. He wanted to make sure that no one else could ever have you, that you were devoted to him for the rest of your life and every day afterwards.
His large hand pressed on your stomach and he licked his lips, his cock twitched in excitement as the idea of you becoming impregnated turned him on. You'd make a beautiful mother to his many children. He was lucky to have found such a soft bride like you, you took care of his home and soon his children.
“Please, Suguru.” You moaned as the excitement of his cock breaching your cunt was arousing. Your hands clutched onto the fabric under your warm body as the afternoon sun shined down on the both of you. You arched your back as he inserted his cock into you slowly, it allowed you to feel every inch enter inside of you.
“That's it, little one.” He said gently before he sank deep into you, the stretch of his cock paired with the tightness of your pussy was a combination that made the man see stars. He placed both hands on your hips and started to thrust up into you. The sex was sloppy and fast, your noises were loud as there was no one around for miles.
“Ah, please, Suguru!” You moaned as you held onto the clothes that cushioned your body. Your fists gripped onto the fabric and yanked when you felt a surge of pleasure. Your moans encouraged him to keep going. He loved the beautiful sounds that you made during sex.
“You feel so good, little one.” He encouraged, “My beautiful wife, the gods gave you to me. You were the piece I was missing. You are mine for all of our days, until the end of the universe.” His voice was low and domineering.
You nodded and arched your back once more, letting the feeling of pleasure wash over you. Your core throbbed with want for your husband, you were destined to be his for the rest of your days. You were his to your very core, when you committed yourself to him. You were his darling, sweet wife who he'll dote and care for.
Even if he was a villain, you loved him with your entire heart.
You reached out for him and pulled him into a searing kiss, you wrapped your arms around him to keep him close as he continued to thrust up inside of you. He grunted against your lips and you clenched your thighs around him. You felt euphoric as the two of you rutted like animals on the back porch.
He was determined to impregnate you, even if it took multiple rounds. He would see you pregnant with his child even if it was the last thing he did. His cock throbbed inside of you and he was egged on by the high pitched noises you made as the two of you kissed passionately.
“You feel like a dream.” He admitted he felt a strong current of pleasure through his body as he thrusted up into you. His cock was nudging against your sweetest spots that made your toes curl. It was euphoria in every sense of the word.
“Please, Suguru. You make me feel so good.“
”Well, I should. That's my job as your husband. If I don't make you feel good, if I don't make you cum, then what kind of man am I?” His voice made the swirl of pleasure in your gut tighten.
The noises continued ashe fucked you, your back arched when he rammed against a particular sweet spot and he responded by digging his teeth into your neck, leaving a nasty bruise for all to see.
The sensation made you clench around his cock and your voice tightened in lust.
He really did luck out with you, where else would he find such a gentle wife. One that was willing to accept him inside and out. The one who would give him many sorcerer children to carry on his legacy after his mission was done.
He gripped your hip and rammed faster into you, which caused you to wrap your legs tighter around him. His eyes were on your breasts as they bounced with each of his movements. The sight aroused him greatly. Soon he was on the cusp of orgasm.
As were you. Two bodies moved together in the afternoon light. Husband and wife bound together. Your lips found each other once more and the kiss was passionate. It wasn't long before you tightened around your husband's cock and with a few more hard thrusts against your more sensitive areas, you came around it.
You soaked his cock in wetness and you fell limp on the porch. Sweat covered your body from the endeavor but also the heat of the afternoon sun. Geto admired your blissed out features and continued to bully his cock deep inside of you.
“That's it, my love.” He said softly, “You're so good for me. You are mine.“ He groaned through grit teeth and soon finished inside of you. His strong back arched in the bright light and he came. His chest rapidly rose and fell as he made sure every last drop was deep inside of you with little chance to leak out.
He let go of your hips and helped get your legs off of him. He stayed keeling as his hair stuck to his neck and back, some were falling out of its bun. He watched you try to compose yourself.
”Beautiful.“
A few months had gone by, it was now winter. The new year had come and gone and Geto was busy with members of his association. You were in the kitchen, checking on the pot of tea boiling on the stove. You rubbed your achy back and exhaled deeply. You were almost six months pregnant, the afternoon on the porch led to you carrying your first child. The curses in Geto's ranks were excited at the prospect of a strong curse user.
You soon poured the tea and placed the cups on the tray before you waddled to the room where your husband's team was. You felt very swollen most days and you were only going to get rounder. You were mindful of the cups and your swollen middle. You felt a sense of duty to nurture and care for the child you carried, after all it was the product of your love between you and your husband. And Geto only smiled because he knew the child would have siblings by the following winter. All in due time he often said with a smile.
And you were inclined to agree, all in due time.
#geto x you#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#getou suguru smut#getou x reader#getou smut#jujustu kaisen#jujustu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x you#suguru. getou
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but daddy i love him!
Based on the song by Taylor Swift.
Javier Peña x F Reader
WC: 1500
Warnings: abusive parents, mentions of slut shaming
Masterlist
Please reblog if you love Javi and/or Taylor!
In the heart of Colombia's tumultuous landscape, Javier Peña found himself entwined in a love affair that defied all logic and reason. He was the seasoned DEA agent, battle-worn and weary, while you were the enigmatic beauty who danced through life with a reckless abandon that both fascinated and terrified him. Your love was a whirlwind, sweeping you up in its tempestuous embrace, defying the boundaries of convention and societal norms. As whispers of disapproval echoed through the streets, you clung to each other, determined to forge your own path.
From the moment you met, sparks flew like wildfire, igniting a passion that neither could extinguish. Javier was drawn to your fiery spirit, your fearlessness in the face of danger, while you found solace in his strength, his unwavering dedication to his cause.
Before you decided to tell your family about your relationship, you and Javier embarked on a journey to your childhood home. The drive was long, the miles stretching out before you like an endless ribbon of asphalt. But with Javier by your side, the miles seemed to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of a new beginning.
As you pulled up to the familiar house that held so many memories, you felt a sense of trepidation wash over you. Javier reached over and squeezed your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the present moment.
“They— they’ve never supported me, my family,” you admitted, flushing with heat as you stepped up to your porch. It wasn’t so much shame that filled you, than it was regret. You wished you’d told Javier this sooner.
“You are doing the right thing cariño, telling them the truth. Telling them about us. If they don’t like it then that’s on them, but they’ll never come between our love.” Javier brushed his thumb over your jaw and planted a chaste kiss atop your lips.
You hummed and smiled against his mouth, letting yourself linger before pulling away. Javier was right. God, your family drove you crazy. They drove you manic. And you figured, fuck it, if they don’t like you and Javier then that would be it. Fuck them. You were happy and you deserved this.
Together, you walked up the path to the front door, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The door swung open, revealing the familiar faces of your family members, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.
And then, as you sat in your childhood home, surrounded by familiar faces, you took a deep breath and prepared to reveal your secret...
But first, you sat down at the dinner table with Javier and your parents. Your father was a newly retired DEA agent and had for sure heard about Javier’s reputation. In fact, he was the one who warned you about Javier in the first place. And now, with his greatest fears realised, Javier was sat at the forefront of the table facing your dad, twirling the pasta around his silverware, idly.
"Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice trembling slightly.
“Let me guess, you’re sleeping with Peña?” Your dad grumbled crudely. “Well, he’s just had about every girl in Bogota, I suppose it was about time he got around to you.���
Javier made a fist but stayed silent. He didn’t have to speak, because you would defend his honour.
“I’m in love with him, daddy.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to fight it. You’d spend your whole life fighting for your parents love and celebration, but now that you had Javi, you didn’t have to anymore.
“You can’t be in love with him. He’s a killer.” Your mother spat.
“Acting like you didn’t marry a killer too, mama,” you quickly countered, narrowing your eyebrows. “I love him.”
With a sleuth of slurs leaving your father’s mouth, about how you were a slut and a disgrace to the family, you decided it was time for you to go.
But not without a bang.
“And there’s something else you should know… I’m having his baby.”
Javier’s eyes snapped to meet yours. Your mother’s complexion greyed and you thought your father might burst a blood vessel. And then, you couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t hold the joke for too long. You saw your father near cardiac arrest.
“No I’m not! But you should see your faces.” You laughed and Javier felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Your sudden burst of laughter was tinged with mania as you stood up, chair scraping against the oak floor, and grabbed your purse.
Your family stared at you in disbelief, their expressions shifting from shock to confusion. But you could see the relief in their eyes, a fleeting glimpse of understanding that you knew would never last.
As you left your childhood home behind, the weight of your deception heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. For you had tested their loyalty and found it lacking, confirming what you had always known deep down.
And as you walked away, hand in hand with Javier, you knew that you were bound together by something far stronger than blood or obligation. You were bound by love, a love that would endure against all odds.
Years passed, and your love only grew stronger with each passing day. Despite the challenges you faced, you stood by each other's side, weathering every storm that came your way.
And then, on a warm summer day, you stood together on a secluded beach, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and gold. With the sound of the waves crashing against the shore as your witness, you exchanged vows of love and commitment, promising to stand by each other for all eternity.
It was just the two of you, alone in your love, with no one else to bear witness to your union. For you had learned that true love didn't need the approval of others, that it was enough to have each other.
And as you danced beneath the stars, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that you had found your happily ever after, against all odds.
#pedro pascal#Javier Peña#javier peña x reader#taylor Swift#but daddy i love him#tppd#the tortured poets department#Pedro pascal x you#Pedro pascal fanfiction
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Rain is a Good Thing
Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x gn!reader
WC: 965
Summary: It hasn't rained for a while now, and you can tell that Kita is getting concerned.
A/N: Yes, the title is a Luke Bryan song. Yes I listen to country music sometimes, sue me. Also, one day I will actually research what is involved in rice farming. Today is not that day.
This morning, like every morning lately, you watch Shinsuke peer out the kitchen window and heave a sigh. You look out, too, and see a clear blue sky, the newly risen sun already beginning to beat down strong and hot. You can't recall exactly the last time it had rained. You think it must have been almost a month, and you can feel your husband's concern.
These few weeks are the most critical for a good harvest. By now, you know it without Shinsuke having to tell you. You feel anxieties of your own creep up every time you look out over the fields and see the growing plants. Last week you'd noticed their leaves just beginning to curl at the edges. Please, you had murmured up at the sky, watching a white puff of a cloud scud by.
After dinner, Shinsuke turns on the TV to the weather channel. It's become an almost nightly ritual. You curl in next to him, watching with more anticipation than you would have ever thought possible. When the weather woman predicts more of the same dry heat for the coming days, you can feel your husband deflating beside you.
"It's got to rain soon," You pipe up uncertainly, not quite sure if such a statement is more of a jinx than anything else. "Right?"
He turns to you with a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes like it usually would. "Yeah. It's gotta." He doesn't sound entirely convinced, but he presses a kiss to your forehead before rising to his feet. You stay on the couch a few moments longer, watching him make his way to get ready for bed. If you could reach up into the sky and wring rain from the clouds yourself, you would do it in a heartbeat.
The next few days pass exactly as predicted. The grass in the front yard has begun to crisp and brown, and puffs of dust have begun to settle on Shinsuke's clothes as he works beneath the hot sun. He's careful to brush himself off before coming inside, but it still collects in a few corners. After sweeping it up one afternoon, you make your way out to the porch.
The sky is crystal clear, a breathtaking blue that, under different circumstances, would fill you with wonder. It would make for a pretty picture if the land beneath it was lush and green instead of slowly browning. "Please, we need rain so badly." You're murmuring up to the sky, but you can't say who you're actually talking to. At this point, it's any being that will listen. "It would mean so much. Shin works so hard. Don't let it be for nothing." You know you aren't making much sense, whispering up into the blue, but somehow you feel just the slightest bit lighter after.
That evening, the weather woman announces a chance of rain the following day. Your eyes meet Shinsuke's, and you grin. Surely, this is a good sign. "It's not a very big chance," He hedges, but his eyes look a little brighter with hope he doesn't dare put into words.
The next day, you find yourself watching the sky all day. The morning starts bright as any other, and you try to ignore the sinking in your gut. If Shinsuke also feels it, he doesn't acknowledge it either.
Towards the afternoon, you spot clouds gathering in the distance. You know he sees them too, but neither of you says a word when he stops in the house for a long drink of water before heading back outside. It feels too fragile to even mention.
You're nearly finished eating dinner when you hear it. A few splattering drops hit the kitchen windowpane, and Shinsuke's head instantly lifts. He shovels a last bite in his mouth before jumping to his feet. "Thanks for dinner," He mumbles quickly, pressing a barely-there kiss to your cheek before dropping his plate in the sink and darting for the door.
As you carry your own plate to the sink, you hear the steady drumming start up on the roof. Looking out the window above the sink, you can see the rain falling steadily, and you can't help the bubble of laughter that slips out.
Quickly deciding that the dishes can wait, you make your own way to the door. Stepping out, you see your husband standing a few paces into the driveway, arms slightly lifted out from his sides as the rain pelts him.
"You're getting soaked!" You call from the porch.
"I don't care!" He says in response, tilting his head back and letting the droplets slide down his cheeks. "This is wonderful." It really is, you agree silently, watching him with a growing smile on your face as he grins full and closed-eyed up at the sky.
It's a split-second decision to step off the porch, and the cool rain immediately begins to dot your skin, feeling like dozens of tiny kisses. When you reach him, he turns to you and reaches for your hand. In an uncharacteristic gesture, he spins you around and into his arms, and you both laugh breathlessly.
"It's raining," Is all you can announce, stupidly, arms tightening around his neck as he holds you close. His smile is wide, and you can't help but lean in towards it.
"It's raining," He agrees against your lips before crashing his own against them in an enthusiastic kiss. You're both soaked through now, but you can't bring yourself to care. Your fingers slide into his wet hair as his grip on your waist tightens, deepening the kiss. Finally, you pull back, his dear face cupped in your hands.
Thank you, you offer silently with a fleeting glance to the sky, to whoever must have been listening.
#the way this really made me feel something#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#kita shinsuke x reader#kita x reader#kita fluff
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𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 ➶
summary: you spend the night with ellie after accidentally getting locked out of your home
18+ smut warnings: making out, mutual pinning, language, sub ellie idc, r gives ellie a hickey, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), overstimulation, tit groping
word count: 2.6k
It’s been a long day.
You and a couple of friends had volunteered to help clean up the alleyways on the far side of Jackson— the alleyways people don’t usually walk by. You were supposed to go alone, you used cleaning as some sort of way to reduce your anxiety- something to clear your head.
However, when you were heading out to your what you called your daily manic cleaning episodes, sweeping alleyways that were anything less than clean. Your friends saw you on your walk over there— almost sneaking up on you – and decided to tag along, saying phrases such as,
“It’ll be good for our community.”
“Group bonding.”
“Karma points, right?”
Really they felt bad for you. You could tell they didn’t want you to be lonely– but that was exactly what you wanted.
Now here you are— a quarter after midnight on your house porch. Locked outside your house. Trembling from the frigid air– your hands wrapped around your arms are barely warming you. All you want to do is take a hot shower and snuggle in bed, maybe sleep in for one time.
Was it always this cold at night? Shit- you don't know, all you know is that you’re locked outside your house with nothing but a street lamp lighting up your porch.
You could have sworn you had had your key on you. Fuck– maybe you dropped it on your walk back.
You’re never finding it in this dark and there’s no way any of the town’s locksmiths are awake.
Fuck it.
You start franticly tugging the doorknob and your shitty door hinges allow your door to look like it might open– but it’s getting you absolutely nowhere. It starts squeaking, you’re making so much noise– but you don’t care.
It’s too cold to care.
You’re about a minute in looking like you’re about to burglarize your own home until you hear a voice call your name. You turn around almost immediately.
“Ellie??” You noticed the voice right away– you can't help but feel excited “Holy fuck you scared me!” you shiver from the cold air– seeing your breath as you exhale. “Oh fuck sorry...” Ellie curses, “I was just getting back from patrol, and well I um– heard noise coming from your house and was just checking to see if you were okay” she stammered.
Oh well, you feel embarrassed now. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, the girl you like catches you locked outside your house in the middle of the night.
Ellie was your neighbor. You met her a while back when you first moved here. Away from the horrors outside Jackson. She was so pretty— from the way she carried herself, she was so charming without even trying. You would always try to get her attention, finding ways to have a conversation no matter how brief.
With her living right next to you... those conversations happened almost every day.
You know, the regular neighborly acts.
It usually went from you asking her if she had any spare movie DVDs she could lend you (and vice versa), to you wishing her luck whenever she went on patrol. You noticed Ellie could never look you fully in the eyes.
You would also hang out every now when you saw her at events held in Jackson. Mostly with a group of other people. It still counts, right?
You could never tell if Ellie liked you back. She probably didn’t even know you liked girls.
“Oh.” you chuckle. “I just got back from volunteer hours and got locked out.” your hand gestures to your door.
“I can see that.” Ellie laughs as she walks up the steps to your front porch. Ellie approaches where you stand you can’t help but feel your cheeks heating up.
You hate that about her. All she does is exist you can’t help but be all over her.
She not-so-subtly looks you up and down– noticing your stiff frame. “You must be so cold.” Ellie grins.
“Freezing.”
“Well um-” she starts, you already know what she’s going to say, trying to hide the way the corners of your mouth twitch up. “You can come over and bunk on my couch for the night,” she uttered.
“There’s this DVD I found while out on patrol a few days ago and,” she tilts her head slightly, “I thought you would like it so I was saving it for you… I just couldn’t find a good time to give it to you,” Ellie’s so close to you. You can smell firewood and a hint of metallic whiff. Maybe from blood.
“If you want we could watch it together,” she mutters. If it was anyone else, you would have declined and just suffered in the cold– you wouldn’t want to bother people because you were dumb enough to get locked out of your own house. But this wasn’t just anyone else.
It’s Ellie– plus she’s asking you to spend the night. You weren’t going to waste an opportunity.
“Alright… since you’re offering” you whisper in her ear. “It’ll be like a sleepover.”
“Well let’s hurry.” she lends you her hand, urging you to grab it. You feel just how rough her palms are. “I swear if I’m out here for another minute my ass is gonna fall off.” you laugh as you both make your way along the pathway.
After you both arrive at her house, you and Ellie take turns showering. She insisted you shower first since she knew you were already having a shitty day. As well as lending you pajama shorts and an oversized shirt to borrow. While it’s Ellie’s turn to shower, you’re seated on her bed as you observe your surroundings. Her house is pretty tidy for someone as frantic as she can be. Layered with a cozy brown and gray shade– pretty tiny which makes sense since it’s only her here. In front of her bed sits her wardrobe with her TV on top. Along with it are a bunch of film DVDs from the eighties, nineties, to the early two thousands, next to a few comic books.
Just when you decided to lie down while you wait. You hear the bathroom door open. Ellie comes out wearing plaid sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. Her short auburn hair is wet and her eyes seem to have more light in them than they did right after she got off patrol. “Comfortable?” she remarks.
“Now that you’re here,” you say with a grin on. You’re flirting with her now– you’re on her bed and flirting with her. “So are we watching this movie or not.”
“Yeah yeah,” she says rolling her eye. Walking over to the disc player by her TV. You see the case in her hand. Sixteen candles. Looks like it was filmed in the eighties, you remember her mentioning she preferred older films.
Ellie carefully takes the disc out of the case and inserts it into the player. Plopping herself on the bed, making an effort to smooth out the bedsheets. Something tells you that you won’t be sleeping on that couch tonight.
As the movie goes on she shifts herself closer to your body. You can smell her body wash from the shower, and you pretend like you don’t notice the glances she gives you every now and then. You both haven’t spoken since the movie started- besides the few remarks whenever the movie got interesting.
You raise your arms so you can sit up on her bed. “You said you found this movie on patrol and thought I would like it right?” you lay down on your side, facing her now. “Why’s that?”
“Oh uh, you know.” her frame mirrors yours as she moves on her side, propping her arm so her head is resting on her hand. “It’s romantic, a comedy and you're a pretty funny person and naturally romantic from what I can tell.”
“I am?” you say scrunching your face. She laughs at your visible confusion. She’s sitting up now– focusing all her attention on you. If it was even on the movie, to begin with. “Yeah?? Have you heard your jokes? It's like you’re a human joke book except less cheesy, remember that one time when-.”
“No I meant the romantic part,” you cut her off. Sitting up crisscrossed as you lean towards her frame. Your hands resting on your lap. Ellie looks up at you as she does the same, carefully thinking about what she’s going to say next.
“You have your moments,” she leans forward– her hands grab the ones on your lap. Her palms are sweating but you don’t mind. Her cheeks start to grow flush and that’s when you realize your effect on her.
“I’m not sure if you do it on purpose,” she whispers “In the morning when you look at me with,” she pauses, looking over to her right as she tries to avoid your gaze. “I dunno.. those eyes as you tell me to be safe on patrol, or when you touch my shoulder when you tell me how good the movie I recommended to you was.”
You’re shocked, nevertheless. You softly smile as Ellie begins to ramble. “It happens every time. But I can’t help but hate myself because I didn’t flirt back when I knew how much better my life would be if I had you.”
When she sees your widen eyes and a grin forming, a look of regret starts to plaster her face. “It’s stupid I’m sorry, I guess that’s just what I want to believe, that you were flirting with me because you wanted me, not just as a friend but-” her sentence is cut short as you press your lips on hers. Ellie’s lips feel warm and soft in this manner and you both lean further into the kiss. Your hands let go of hers– grabbing the sides of her face as her tender hands land on your waist.
Ellie’s plush lips move against yours in a breathless motion and you feel your heart pumping faster. As your grip on her face tightens, your hands quickly heat up her cheeks. Or is she just blushing— you can’t tell at the moment. Ellie’s whole face and body searingly yet gently lean into you, and the struggle to sit up straight creeps up on you.
The soft kiss quickly becomes more wet and erotic as you moan into it, giving her tongue a way to slip through your lips. “Lay back.” you moan against her lips. She brings you with her when she does, pulling your hips to straddle her waist. Your mouth is on hers again in an instant as you slowly grind against her, Ellie’s hands flow with the rhythm of your moving waist. Encouraging your movements.
Your lips start traveling down, giving her jaw a few pecks before you start kissing the side of her neck. “Oh fuck,” Ellie gasped between moans when you start sucking the front of her neck, backing up and panting at the sight of a mark forming.
Ellie chases your lips with hers when you begin to undo the strings of her sweatpants. Her hands cup the side of your face as she maneuvers out of her pants along with her shirt– revealing her braless chest. The only thing attached to her body are gray panties with a wet patch on display.
The feeling of her tongue getting lost along yours as if you both weren’t thinking at the moment. Ellie knew she wouldn’t forget this anytime soon and will definitely remember the touch of your hands as they fell on her boobs.
“Mhm fuck,” Ellie whines as your hands make contact with the flesh of her tits, massaging them, her tongue tracing your lips, softly biting your bottom lip before letting it go with one last kiss.
“Take your shirt off,” Ellie whines as she feels up on your stomach and breast through your shirt. “Please, it’s not fair I’m the only one practically naked.”
“Alright, since you asked so nicely,” hands are placed on the hem of your shirt. Ellie stares in awe as the girl straddling her hips unclips her bra. Her hands are already on the move to grab your breast until she sees your body move further down the bed as your head passes her belly button. This way, your head is between her thighs.
She sees your seductive face looking up at her, asking for permission. Ellie gladly gives you it– lifting her hips as you take off her underwear. Ellie’s soaked as your middle and ring finger rub along her entrance, slipping in so easily. Ellie begins to whimper out your name when your fingers penetrate her needy cunt.
“You like that?” you asked, slowly curling your digits inside of her, turned on at the sight of her biting her lip. You continuously move your fingers in and out of Ellie’s wet cunt as your other hand pushes down on her stomach when she tries arching her back. She couldn't help but navigate her palm on the back of your hand, interlocking with your fingers.
“-fuckkkk” she drags out, “that feels so fucking good, fuck- keep going baby.” Ellie moans even louder now as she feels the liquid from her drenched cunt drip onto the mattress. The more your fingers thrust in and out, the wetter and more desperate she got. Ellie began moving along the fingers gilding inside her pussy when you took your restricting hand away from her stomach.
It wasn’t long till Ellie felt the excitement in her lower stomach grows hotter before cumming all over your finger.
“I can make it feel better,” your voice lowered as your mouth made its way to her clit, you sucked hard, giving Ellie a sting of overstimulation.
You resume thrusting your finger in her, curling them into her sweet spot or sucking firmly on her clit if she got too quiet. “Mm fuck I’m close babe don’t stop,” she pants out, head tilting back as her orgasm takes over.
“That’s it, Ellie,” you respond against her clit, keeping a steady pace until you felt your fingers become damp once again. “There you go babe” you stare at Ellie’s face, noticing how pink she’s gotten from what just happened. It made you feel so satisfied you could get a girl like Ellie to blush so deeply.
Ellie tilts her head down so she’s staring at you. There’s nothing less than lust in her eyes when she looks at you and down at the mess she caused. Her eyes follow your frame when you lean down from the bed. You reach over to grab your discarded shirt on the ground to wipe her down. Ellie whimpers at the feeling of the cloth touching her core.
You break the silence as you lift up a blanket to cover the both of you up, “It’s very late now Els– and we both have to wake up early tomorrow so we should-”
“Hold on a second,” You’re cut off when Ellie suddenly grabs your waist and shifts on top of you, caressing your cheek as she does. “I don’t think it’s fair you gave me the best two orgasms of my life while you haven’t even been touched yet.”
“Ellie I-” you stammer, feeling her hand grope your bare breast, and they hastily move down to your hips. Ellie removes both your shorts and underwear at the same time, revealing everything she wanted to see.
You look over at her small television as the movie credits come along, glancing over at the digital clock next to it that reads 3:02 AM.
It looks like you’ll have to rewatch it with her another day.
a/n: svudjfrsdhufe first fic on my new blog what. I was a little doozy on sleeping pills while writing this and I'm not sure if ellie’s ooc or not 😭. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader smut#ellie williams tlou#tlou#the last of us#DEMUREFLANEUR
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VI ║ Mustang
Jack Daniels x f!reader
{ Part 5: Appaloosa | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Summary: On the fifth day, you leave the Halfway House behind, and the conversation turns homeward.
Warnings: Angst, feelings, flirting, insecurities, sexual innuendoes, oral sex (m and f receiving), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N
Word count: 4.3k
Notes: I toyed with the idea of shortening the series by one part, but then - why would I? I want to give these two as much time as they deserve on this trip, so we have three more chapters after this. Enjoy my darlin's!
Mustang: An American feral horse which is typically small and lightly built.
It hits you a bit belatedly the next morning over breakfast - wholewheat toast with Poppy’s own churned butter and homemade jam - that it’s your fifth day on the trail.
You dread to wrap your head around what that means. Today is the penultimate full day on the road. On the seventh, you head back to the ranch for your final night, and the next day, you fly home.
The realisation steals your breath for a second, and you sip pensively on the fresh orange juice that Jack squeezed by hand.
You know he senses there’s something on your mind. You feel his eyes on you as you wash up the dishes while he does a final sweep of the house to make sure everything is in order, pausing every time he passes through the kitchen to press sweet kisses to the side of your neck.
Running out of excuses to linger, you make your way to the front door, the sound of your boots echoing hollowly in the living room, as empty as it was when you stepped into it two days ago.
Except - it’s not really empty, is it? When so much has happened since?
You trace a finger on the kitchen counter where Jack made you dinner, drag your feet past the fireplace where you shared cake and confessions, and now you stand on the porch where he made you cry out his name into the dark of night.
The door shuts behind you with a heavy finality that physically weighs down your feet as you trudge towards the horses.
Does any of this mean as much to him as it does to you?
Can it mean anything? You have three days left before you’re thousands of miles away, back to a crowded downtown studio apartment that barely has space for just you, let alone a cowboy, and a life that has no time for horses.
And here? There will be another rider in Scotch’s saddle next week, someone else taking your place by the evening fire and the bed you slept in - you bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from extrapolating any further than that.
Jack looks up at you. ‘Got everythin’, darlin’?’
You put on a brave smile. ‘Got everything, cowboy.’
Scotch nuzzles you affectionately on the shoulder as you watch Jack finish up securing the last of the bags on Bourbon. Frowning at your forlorn expression, Jack He chucks you under the chin and reassures you, ‘The house will be here when you come back, darlin’.’
When.
Not if, but when.
It makes you smile.
While the shortcut is a less spectacular route as Jack forewarned, it’s still beautiful. Alternately cutting through swathes of flat land and dense forest, it’s certainly a less travelled path. There are parts of the track where Jack has to dismount to clear the overgrown vegetation, hacking away at wayward branches, so that you can go through.
After a whole day in the house - albeit a very good day - you’re happy to be in the open country again. You revel in the sun, your body loose and relaxed in the warmth, filling your lungs with the fresh scent of grass, trees and wildflowers.
Jack watches you from under the brim of his hat with a smile as you reach up while passing by a low-hanging tree, picking a bunch of flowers to tuck behind Scotch’s ears under the browband.
As much as he wants to push it out of his mind, his body is precisely finetuned to the schedule on the trail. Day five is when guests start to look back and reminisce, and he usually leads the charge with questions such as, do you remember what we saw on day three? Wasn’t that a treat?
Except this time, he doesn’t.
Instead, he holds his tongue, and the two of you ride quietly, side by side, letting the gentle rippling of grass in the wind and chipper birdsong do the talking.
And he watches you. No more furtive glances and stolen moments. He watches you openly and freely, catching your eye with a grin.
He wants to remember you in the sun. Your back straight, but hips swaying to the rhythm of the horse. How gently your hands hold the reins, softly attuned to the horse’s mouth. The way you chatter to Scotch, and the punch he feels in his gut when you turn over your shoulder to smile at him.
He’ll make damn sure he remembers all that.
Over a simple lunch - a much needed respite after the relentless feasting at the Halfway House - Jack mentions that the two of you will have to keep up the pace in the afternoon to get to the next camp by sundown.
A bit fresh from the unexpected lieu day, Whiskey and Scotch keep trying to one up each other, nipping competitively for the lead. Bourbon, laid back as ever, is content to trail behind.
On a particularly flat stretch of land, you turn to Jack and ask, ‘Since we’re on the clock, how about a little race?’
He arches an eyebrow at your suggestion. ‘A race? So I get something if I win?’
You put on a coy smile and drag out the syllables teasingly. ‘Maybe.’
‘What do you have in mind?’
With a lopsided grin, you lean towards him and answer, ‘If you win, I’ll suck your cock, cowboy.’
His mouth parts at your unexpected proposal, his grip on the reins tightening, but he otherwise keeps his composure. Running the pink tip of his tongue across his bottom lip, he rasps, ‘And what do you want if you win, darlin’?’
‘What’s your best offer?’
Nudging Whiskey straight into Scotch’s side so that he can hook an arm around your waist, he purrs in your ear. ‘If you beat me, I’ll eat your sweet pussy.’
Turning to press your lips to his in a messy kiss, you grin. ‘You’re on, cowboy.’
There’s something magical - almost sacred - about galloping at full speed on the open prairie.
Born and bred in the city, you’ve only done this maybe once or twice when you were younger, on family holidays in the rural backwaters. But damn, it never gets old.
The wind whistles in your ears as Scotch zooms across the plain. Despite the adrenaline of the competition, you are mindful to keep your contact on the bit soft, following the movement of his head so that he can move comfortably at full stretch. As it turns out, it’s surprisingly easy to sit in the Western saddle in the gallop, and you let your hips sway to the smooth gait.
Ever the gentleman, Jack does give you a headstart, but not by much. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him level with you already. Catching your gaze, he gives you a cheeky wink before yelling yeehaw - at the command, Whiskey switches gear and starts to effortlessly overtake you.
Jack ends up beating you by a few comfortable horse lengths. Miffed as you are, you appreciate the fact that he doesn’t condescend you by letting you win.
He’s jumped off by the time you arrive at the designated finish line, the beginnings of the forest that you’ll be crossing through to get to tonight’s campsite. Both man and horse are panting from the effort, and Jack doesn’t bother hiding his smugness when he flashes you a grin.
‘Good try, darlin’,’ he winks, passing you a water bottle when you dismount.
You snatch it from him and take a big gulp, before tossing it onto the grass and grabbing him by the deep, open V of his plaid shirt.
‘Shut up, cowboy,’ you gripe and yank him in for a frantic kiss.
He groans, clearly taken aback when you reach decisively for his flask-shaped belt buckle, opening it with a clink, no hesitation in the way you unzip the front of his jeans and snake your fingers beneath his boxers. Pulling back, he hesitates, ‘Wait, darlin’ - now?’
‘Yeah, now,’ you insist breathlessly, feeling him harden in your grasp.
‘I should probably clean up first,’ he protests weakly, but lets you back him up against a tree a safe distance away from the horses.
‘Uh-uh,’ you tut with a shake of your head and sink to your knees, the leather of your boots creaking as you settle onto your haunches. ‘Want you like this, cowboy.’
He hisses at the drag of your nails against his skin as you pull his jeans down, his cock bobbing heavily when released from the confines of his boxers. You breathe him in - leather and sweat - and his eyes smoulder at the sight of your fingers wrapping around his length, something feral in the snarl on his lips.
‘Fuck, darlin’, so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?’
You nod and a shiver chases down your spine. ‘Want you in my mouth so badly.’
Sliding his grip into your hair, he instructs, ‘Open those pretty lips for me. Wide.’
You do as you’re told, your pussy clenching at the tone of his voice that veers on dominant. Gripping the base of his cock, Jack guides the swollen, leaking tip between your lips, letting out an unsteady exhale. The sound swerves into a whine when he meets resistance halfway in.
‘That’s it, darlin’, feels so good,’ he praises you, a deep furrow on his brow as he draws back slowly. ‘Will you let me fuck your mouth? Hmm?’
You hum in acqueise, digging your nails into his naked thighs and hoping he gets the message.
‘So good for me,’ he growls as he pushes back in, inch by torturous inch. He fills you so completely that tears begin to sting the seam of your lashes, and with each smooth roll of his hips, one deeper than the last, you choke as you try to breathe around his girth.
‘Relax, darlin’,’ croons Jack above you, stroking the hinge of your jaw with a tender thumb, groaning when it unlocks and he slips in unexpectedly deeply. ‘Oh fuck, that’s it, beautiful. So gorgeous with my cock in your mouth. Look at me, darlin’.’
Peering up at him through your lashes, you decide that you like this view - a lot.
He’s still wearing his cowboy hat, which casts half of his face in shadow, but there’s no missing the flush on his cheeks, his jaw hanging open in panting breaths. Sweat has soaked through the front of his shirt, gaping open down to the middle of his sternum. Dappled shadows filtered through the treetops dance across his tanned skin, his chest rising and falling quickly.
His narrow hips buck as he slips in deeper, almost too deep, and you start to really feel the burn on your jaw as his cock stretches your mouth again and again, hitting the back of your throat. Drool begins to leak from the corner of your lips as you try to take all of him, struggling for air when it gets too much.
Tears blur your vision and you gag, retreating with a wet pop, whining at the loss of his weight on your tongue.
Seemingly jolted back to himself, Jack thumbs your cheek apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I’m so sorry, darlin’. I got carried away -’
‘Don’t, I liked it,’ you smile up at him almost drunkenly, pumping his length in languid strokes, so soaked in your spit that your grip nearly skids off him. ‘But now, I want to suck your cock.’
Basking in the sight of him biting his bottom lip and nodding frantically, the dynamics swing right around the very moment you slot your mouth over his length, and you swallow him whole.
Jack’s body language changes immediately, slumping against the tree behind him, choking out a low groan as you simply hold him there for a long beat. ‘Fuck, darlin’. Yes. Please.’
If you’re not already wet, you definitely are now from the muttered words of desperation that fall from his lips as you bob your head up and down his cock. You pace yourself, keeping a steady rhythm while Jack stammers incoherently above you, knowing that it will keep him on edge but not enough for him to finish. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re enjoying the way he’s begging you to take him harder, deeper, far too much.
‘Darlin’, need to cum. Fuck, need it,’ pants Jack, shoulders almost hunched over, as if in pain. ‘Just a bit harder, please, suck me harder, oh god -’
When his knees start to shake under your fingertips, and when his begging tapers off to disjointed whimpers, you finally look up at him.
Oh, but he is wrecked. Your cunt leaks as you take in his flared nostrils, lips pulled back into a pained snarl, pupils blown beyond recognition. Cupping your jaw in one big hand, he slurs, ‘Please darlin’, can I cum? Let me fill your mouth?’
A shudder runs through you and, holding his gaze, you hollow out your cheeks and suck, drawing a shout from Jack as he scrabbles for purchase, his fingers twisting into your hair almost painfully. Tightening your grip around the base of his cock, you fist him firmly while swallowing as much of him as you can, up and down, until you feel him swell on your tongue, just as he starts to tremble above you.
‘Oh god, oh fuck that’s it, I’m gonna cum, darlin’,’ he rambles brokenly, head falling backwards and opening up his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he babbles. ‘I’m gonna cum for you, I’m gonna - fuck, fuck, fuuuck -’
The first spurt almost takes you by surprise, hitting the back of your throat thick and salty. You moan around him at the taste, chasing him when his hips jerk and writhe as he empties himself on your tongue, until he has nothing left - your name on his lips as he catches his breath.
Jack stares down at you with dazed eyes, a groan deep in his chest when he spots the cum that pools white and sticky between your swollen lips.
His voice is surprisingly steady when he orders, ‘Swallow, darlin’.’
You do, before he hauls you up onto your feet to kiss you.
The stars look different from where you sit nestled between his legs, head tucked under his chin, leaning back against the steady beat of his heart.
Jack’s zipped the two sleeping bags together to make a double, a log behind him to prop himself up. One blanket he wraps around his shoulders with the ends draped over you, and the other you’re tucked under cosily.
Having done this job for nine years, he knows there’s a natural rhythm to the pack trips. On the fifth night, inevitable as gravity, the fireside conversation turns to home. But with you ensconced snugly where you are, like the space was made for you, Jack can’t bring himself to ask you that.
Turns out you’d ask him first.
‘So, do you get time off after working a whole week?’
‘Yeah, I get three days off after each pack trip.’
‘What do you do?’
He rattles off his usual to-do list. ‘Catch up on sleep, go into town for a haircut, fix my bike -’
With a bark of laughter, you sit up and toss him a look of incredulity over your shoulder. ‘Your what?’
‘My bike. My motorcycle - Silver Pony.’
‘You have a motorcycle? And you named it Silver Pony?’
With a playful growl, he tightens his grip around your waist, making you squeal. ‘Why are you laughin’?’
‘It’s just such a cutesy name.’
‘It’s a very sexy bike, I’ll have you know.’
‘Do all the ladies swoon when you roar into town on it?’ you quip dryly.
He chuckles. ‘You bet they do.’
Shifting in your seat, you probe, ‘So - what’s in town?
‘Not much. Even less for a city girl like you.’
‘Where would you take me? Give me the whistle-stop tour.’
‘Well,’ he pauses and considers. ‘I’ll take you to the diner for dinner. Then we can go catch a movie at the cinema. We can make out in the back row, ‘cause no one is ever there.’
You give him a sidelong glance. ‘Done it before, cowboy?’
He grins. ‘Jealous?’
To his surprise, you answer evenly, ‘Not particularly - I don’t think anyone’s ever had you to themselves like I have these few days.’
His chest swells at the easy surety of your tone. Where has that confidence come from? Sure, there’s always been flashes of that boldness under the tentative surface, even from day one. But this is something else. Now that the shyness has lifted, a knowing assurance has taken its place - one that’s making his jeans uncomfortably tight.
He nuzzles the column of your neck, making you squirm as his moustache tickles your sensitive skin. ‘That’s right, darlin’, ain’t you a lucky girl.’
You pause. ‘And - do you ever go on vacation?’
‘I take Whiskey out to the mountains every year in the fall. Sometimes Teak tags along with Jameson.’
‘But what about a city escape?’
He hums noncommittally, but a smile tugs at his lips as he rests his chin on your shoulder. ‘Can’t say I have, darlin’.’
‘Would you like to?’
‘Depends,’ he teases. ‘What is there for a country boy like me to do in the big, scary city?’
You tick off each option on your fingers. ‘Museums, galleries, shopping, music -’
‘Don’t know. Sounds loud and crowded,’ he grunts.
You roll your eyes. ‘Fine. We could just stay in and order takeaway. There’s the best Thai takeaway round the corner from my apartment.’
‘Alright. Keep going.’
Peering at him from the corner of your eye, you add, ‘We can have lots of sex.’
At that, he perks up. ‘Really?’
You smirk, winding one arm around his neck and brushing your nose against his. ‘So much sex, cowboy. I probably won’t let you leave the bed -’
Your squeal trails off into a bark of laughter when Jack flips you onto your back, but your breath is quickly knocked out of you when his soft lips latch onto the spot behind your ear, the one that he’s noticed you always tremble at. His blunt nails scrape their way up your inner thighs, and he senses the tremble rippling under your skin.
What he says next catches you off guard.
‘That night on your birthday, you hesitated when I asked to taste you. Why?’
Jack smiles when you don’t stiffen like you did that night at his question, but still, you dither, teeth worrying your bottom lip.
Freeing it with a swipe of his thumb, he smiles down at you reassuringly. ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me, but I gotta tell you - fuck, I want to eat your gorgeous pussy.’ He pauses and smirks when he feels you shudder at his words, your eyes darkening. ‘I want to know what you taste like, want to slip my tongue deep into your cunt when you cum -’
‘Jack,’ you whine, hitching your knees around his hips in search of friction.
‘You’ll like that, won’t you?’ he teases, tonguing your earlobe. ‘God, I want to suck on your clit, see how wet I can make you with just my mouth.’
‘Touch me, cowboy,’ you plead, shoving your sleep pants and underwear down to your knees. ‘Please.’
He rips the bottoms off impatiently and opens you wide with hands on your ankles, groaning at the wetness he sees between your legs. He doesn’t want to push you, but he has to know. ‘Gotta tell me darlin’ - you want me to use my mouth?’
Vulnerability lurks beneath the frenetic glassiness in your eyes, and you swallow thickly in a confession. ‘I - it’s hard for me to cum from oral sex. My ex - he always got frustrated when he tried and well, it was just easier to not do it.’
You jump when Jack’s rough palms smooth over the outside of your thighs, a question in his soft eyes. ‘Would you like me to try, darlin’?’
You shift. ‘But - what if I can’t cum?’
‘Well, luckily, I seem to be able to make you cum in other ways,’ he replies with an easy wink to diffuse the tension in your body. ‘You don’t have to cum from oral sex, darlin’, and I won’t get frustrated if you don’t.’
You blink up at him. ‘Promise?’
‘I promise,’ he says, leaning his forehead into yours. ‘And I promise, it will feel good even if you don’t cum from just my mouth.’
Running your nails through the dark strands of his hair that brush his eyes, you take a deep breath and nod. ‘Okay, Jack.’
Catching your hand and pressing a sweet kiss to the heart of your palm, he says, ‘You can tell me to stop anytime, okay?’
You can’t help adding with a quirk of your lips, ‘Yes, sir.’
The fire paints the cowboy in orange and shadow as he makes himself comfortable in the cradle of your thighs. His hair glistens when it catches the light, still drying from his shower earlier. You watch the reflections of the flames flicker over his serious eyes, down his straight nose, past his tidy moustache and to his wickedly curled lips.
Your breath hitches of its own accord.
He really is beautiful. This is beautiful. Having this man all to yourself in the open wilderness, so eager to please you, under the blanket of inky darkness with only the milky way as witness - you’ve never known anything like this.
Jack starts slow. His breath skates over your sensitive skin as he presses leisurely kisses to your inner thighs, some with a scrape of teeth, some chaste, but with just enough heat behind them to draw you into rolling your hips in search of his lips.
‘Cowboy,’ you berate him half-heartedly, burying your hands into his brown locks and pulling.
‘Patience, darlin’,’ he murmurs, but he moves upwards so that his exhale brushes over your bare folds. Gently, he ghosts a finger over your slit, the almost contact making you cry out. ‘How much more soaked can this pussy get without me actually touching it, I wonder?’
‘Don’t tease, Jack,’ you seethe, fists hitting the sleeping bag underneath you in frustration.
He tuts, an insolent smile on his lips, before carefully pulling apart the outer creases of your folds with the tips of his index fingers, opening up your cunt to his gaze. He groans at the sopping squelch of the movement. ‘Fuckin’ drenched already for me already. How?’
‘Jack. Please.’
Slinking onto his front unhurriedly, as if he has all the time in the world, Jack hooks your knees over his strong shoulders, nudging his nose against your weeping seam and breathes in deep. He way he moans has you clenching around nothing in anticipation. ‘Fuck, you smell so sweet, darlin’.’
‘Jack!’ you can’t hold back the pathetic sob that bubbles up from your throat, trembling so hard you need his solid weight to anchor you to the ground. ‘Please, want your mouth, now -’
Your words morph into a mewl when Jack’s lips, wet and cool, finally make landing with a gratuitously loud suckle of your clit, which has your back arching clean off the pillowy sleeping bag underneath.
He takes it slow - so slow, almost too slow - his broad tongue (is there any part of him that isn’t?) questing deep into the pliant ridges of your cunt, tirelessly discovering nerve points that make you keen and wringing needy whimpers from you. His shoulders under your knees hold you open as you shudder and squirm beneath him.
‘Jack,’ you pant, the stars above you blurry one second and sharply focused the next as he laves your clit studiously.
‘Yes, darlin’?’ he slurs against your pussy, not really expecting an answer. Instead, he pushes up the sleep shirt you have on, baring your tits to the cool night air. He moans into you and reaches up to squeeze them before teasing the tips, which only makes you push your hips into his face harder, earning a satisfied grunt from him.
Fidgety fingers curl into the fabric of shirt on his back, the air wrangled clean out of you as you watch his eyes flutter shut, a deep frown of concentration creasing his brow when he drags the flat of his tongue over you again and again, patiently building a rhythm that has you writhing. The blankets twist into knots between the gaps in your fingers, patches damp with your wetness cold against your skin.
Slippery with Jack’s spit and what he coaxes from you, your thighs quake when he rubs his moustache on the soft flesh. You watch the sodden bottom of the dark hairs smear the slick over you, sticky and messy, and that’s when you feel it - a crest rearing its head deep within you. Slack-jawed, you hold on for dear life, clinging to it as it swells. Air leaves you in shallow pants as his palms tighten their grip on you, anchoring you to his mouth so he can lap at you with unwavering intensity, a solemn determination to chase that high that has long alluded you.
When you do break apart on his tongue, the first time in too many years to count, it’s with a spine-shattering scream of his name that rips apart the stillness of the night, your gasps and pleads riding the evening breeze.
The echoes of your voice sail across the empty grasslands, carrying in the thin night air, and ring into the open arms of the mountains, where Jack wishes - no, where he prays - he could keep you.
Notes: These two have earned this filth, haven't they? I'm having the best time just writing them being horny AF for each other on the open plains, while weaving in the angst as the clock ticks down. Thank you everyone for your patience, I hope you enjoyed this update, and as always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🧡
Horsey notes: I galloped for the first time just a couple of years ago (no such opportunity for a city girl), in the shadows of the magnificent Pyramids of Giza first thing in the morning on a gorgeous Arabian horse. It was a magical moment that has stayed with me, and truly one of my favourite memories ever. I have never been so grateful for our four-legged friends than I was in that moment, flying over the golden sands.
#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels x fem!reader#jack daniels x f!reader#jack daniels x reader#jack whiskey daniels#jack whiskey daniels fanfiction#kingsman fanfiction#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x female reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels x you
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the warren, part two
price x f!reader | 2.9k words
part one (prologue)
CW: blood (mentioned), dead animals, stalking
One bedroom. One bath. A screened-in porch. A carport. A woodshed. Fully furnished.
The old cabin in the woods is perfect.
No one answers the first call to the number on the ad, and the voicemail doesn't offer a clue as to who ought to answer. You leave a message anyway. After calling upwards of fifty places in the last week, you're desperate. The end of the month's coming up. Since you turned the motel manager down, he's wanted you out.
You fill out the rental application before hearing back, thank the gods there's no fee, and send it off with a sugary-sweet note and signature.
A woman calls back when you're in the middle of the supermarket. Congratulations, you want the place? You got it. It feels quick and surprising, but who are you to look a gift horse in the mouth? For the next four months, the cabin's yours. The landlady launches into details, forcing you to jot down directions on the back of your list. No GPS up here, she explained. The forest is too thick. Too many trees? Not a bad thing, in your opinion.
"Sure you're alright with sight unseen?"
"Yeah, I trust the pictures in the ad," You don't. "I'm itching to spend the summer in nature."
"Grouse Bay is a good spot for a getaway. You might not want to leave when the lease is up."
The sentiment makes you smile. "Sounds perfect."
~~
There is no welcome sign for Grouse Bay. No indication you're close until you're right up on it, or rather, over it.
A thick quilt of pine, fir, and cedar hugs the gravel roadway. Asphalt disappeared some ten miles back, and you pray your car and its ancient tires stick out the descent into town. You're careful not to lean your full weight against the overlook's worn wooden fence. Below you, the road carves a series of switchbacks until it sweeps through a dozen or so lakeside structures. Thin tendrils of smoke curl up from more properties hidden by trees. With the blues of the lake and mountains on the horizon, it's a regular postcard.
Your teeth clatter, and the car shakes the whole way down. You pass a few gated forestry roads and private drives with quirky names before the road curves a final time and spits you out onto the main street. The only street.
We are not in Kansas anymore.
You don't miss a single building, crawling along at the posted speed of 15 MPH. There's a motel, a veterinary office, a grocer, and a water and sewer utility building, and where the road splits to continue along the lake or further up a hill into the woods is the Foxhole.
A rough-looking pub, your lip curls at the horrifically taxidermied fox in the window beside the door. You pull into a makeshift parking spot next to an old Ranger, collect yourself, and head inside.
Three heads swivel in your direction, two patrons and the barkeep. The men's expressions are unreadable, but the woman behind the counter offers a thin smile.
"Sit where you'd like."
The stale air smells like heat and cigarette smoke, and the ceiling fans do little to dissipate either. "I'm actually popping in to pick up a key? To a rental?" Your eyes flick to the men at the bar, not wanting to state precisely where you're staying in front of them.
The woman's smile turns knowing. "Right. We spoke on the phone. I'm Kate Laswell. I own the cabin."
"Owns half the town," One of the men snorts, pinching the neck of his bottle for a swig.
"Ignore him," Her hand disappears into her vest pocket and produces a carabiner with one key. "You got the check?"
"Yes," You pull out your billfold, carefully slide the folded paper slip out from between cards, and exchange it for the key.
Kate inspects it briefly, then dips her head. "Need me to wait to cash it?"
Your face heats at the implication. You hadn't listed employment on the application but assumed the bank's letter spoke for you. After all, she accepted you. "No. Cash it whenever you'd like."
"Alright then. Know where you're going?"
"Yes ma'am, I do."
"So polite," she chuckles, glancing at the men who grin at you. "Well then, enjoy. Call me if you need anything or have questions."
You hightail it out of the bar, and try to ignore the weight of three sets of eyes on your back.
~~
The engine clicks as it cools, the only sound louder than the birdsong. Wedged between the open driver's door, you stand, feet firmly planted, yet feel like you could float. You made it.
The cabin is a deep red oxblood, faded by weather and time. The carport sags more than in the pictures, and the woodshed is nearly cleaned out, but it looks like a dream. Sunlight drapes over the front half of the structure, and a breeze catches a wooden wind chime over the exterior door of the porch.
Hauling your bags out of the backseat, you trek up the gravel drive. The key slots in easily, like the hardware's brand new. The door inches open, and the smell of musty, trapped air leaks out. Here we go.
You exhale a shaky breath. So far, so good. The pictures continue to match reality. The door opens to the dining and kitchen area with a honey oak table draped in a checkered runner, coordinating cabinetry, a towering glass-doored cabinet on the wall, and the back entrance dead ahead. To the left are a couch and armchair, with a low table and a padded woolen rug beneath. The door to the screened porch also sits to the left, with the entrances you presume leading to the bedroom and bathroom ahead.
Wood paneling lines every room. Others might think it tacky, but you find it charming and warm. It makes it a bonafide cabin, one you've pictured a thousand times. The bedroom is sparse, with a simple furniture set including a dresser, a nightstand, a lamp, and a vintage brass bed frame.
You make quick work of settling in. The space is tidy enough, though it's clear that Kate probably hasn't stopped in since you signed the lease. You open the windows for fresh air and do a little dusting. The dining table swiftly becomes the catch-all, with the miscellaneous other belongings you brought scattered over its surface, including the prehistoric laptop you handed a middle-aged woman a wad of cash for in the parking lot of a Walmart. You'd left in a hurry but planned meticulously. Aside from a few necessities and groceries, you have everything you need.
In the screened porch, you discover a glider and ottoman needing new upholstery and a lacquered wooden sign with lettering spelling out The Warrens. It rests on a windowsill, covered in a thin layer of grime. You think it must be from the former owners and leave it out of an odd sense of respect.
An hour later, the place aired out, you shut the windows, clip the car and cabin key together, and hesitate at the door. What's the protocol out here? You've never lived anywhere that didn't require multiple deadbolts. The town's simplicity and the woods' peacefulness - you can't even see the end of the property's driveway from the step - make you think it's probably okay…But then you think of the men in the bar. They didn't look bad, but the bad ones rarely did.
Mind made up, you lock the door.
~~
The walk from the main thoroughfare to the cabin is ten, maybe fifteen minutes uphill. Sandals weren't the move, a reminder you tuck away for the next trip. Your focus stretches back to Grouse Grocery and its shopkeep, and you swallow hard at your naivete.
"Aw, I didn't know you could feed the deer like this."
"It's bait, sweetheart."
Lingering humiliation propels you up the slope to your newfound sanctuary. It doesn't help the grocer's handsome. His eyes are the same color as the lake, his face framed by a beard and mustache, punctuating the mountain man look. Tall with a broad chest and shoulders that taper into a trim waist. Burly arms dusted with hair, chest too, far as you could tell through the open uppermost buttons of his shirt. Your mind fills in the blanks of what his bootcut jeans and flannel covered. Something peculiar to him, though, and you can't put your finger on it.
I'm overthinking this. It's a small town. I'm not used to it, yet.
Not weird, just different.
The four words become your mantra when odd things start within days of your arrival.
~~
As you told the good-looking grocer, you are an animal lover through and through. The child who toted frogs home from the playground pushed their nose to the glass outside pet stores and braked for ducklings. You dabbled with a vegetarian diet, failed, and overspent at farmers' markets in weak absolution. But you had never been a pet person. Life never allowed for it.
Which is why the cats are bewildering. Within the first week, three feral cats traipse about the property. By the end of week two, you count nine. Lounging in the woodpile, hiding beneath your car, or sitting on the step like they own the place. They skitter and hiss when you approach and don't touch the scraps of food you leave out to curry favor.
Then there are the 'gifts' they leave you. Headless birds, mice, and other small mammals. Entrails and viscera steaming on the cement step in the high noon sunlight. The Internet says it's normal, you say it's disgusting.
You read cats leave dead animals when they believe their human is helpless. That they see humans as big, furless, and inept hunters whose survival is in peril because they lack the innate ability to track, pursue, and kill.
Scraping the latest offering off their altar, you shrug off such notions. They're probably upset that their favorite place to squat is now occupied.
Then, the carcasses quadruple in size. One early morning, you decide to walk down to the lake to read with a cup of coffee, only to drop the mug and book into the dirt. A gutted doe is not fifteen feet from the front door beside your car. Black eyes lolled skyward, pinna flopped over its skull, and legs akimbo. After sprinting and vomiting into the kitchen sink, you call Kate.
"Sorry that's happened, I can send someone up to remove it in the next half hour. You ought to know that you might see more stuff like that, kid. Area's rich in wildlife - bears, cougars, bobcats, wolves, hell, even eagles drop half-eaten marmots from time to time."
You remain on the kitchen floor, repeating your new mantra, and not fifteen minutes later, tires on gravel announce someone's arrival. Mercifully, no one comes to the door. Whoever it is doesn't even kill the engine. You hear footsteps crunching on rock, the doe's body hitting the bed of a truck, the slam of a door, and the person pulling away.
Mustering the courage to stand, you stare from the front door, eyes transfixed on the blood left behind. You pray for rain.
It doesn't come.
~~
The front light won't turn on. You swap the lightbulb with a spare from the cupboard and zip. Nothing. You call Kate, whose patience seems a deep well. She promises to send the local handyman and gets off the phone in a hurry. Annoyingly, you don't get a name or a time.
It's noon when a red pick-up arrives the next day. You're on your feet, off the glider and its ottoman on the porch, and barefoot when the door to the truck swings open. The practiced smile you wear falters a little when a familiar cut of a man steps out, sizes up the cabin in a glance, and then turns to grab a toolbox from the bed.
You meet him at the door.
"You're the handyman, too?"
The crow's feet by his eyes tighten with a smirk. "And the locksmith." His chin lifts to the sconce. "This it?"
"The one."
"Right, I'll get a stepladder and it'll be in working order within the hour. Mind shutting off the power in the meantime?"
"Of course. Need anything else from me?"
His smile's a waxing crescent, mouth twitching like he's got something clever to say. You've seen it before on the mugs of men trying to get fresh with you, but he keeps whatever it is locked behind his teeth.
"No. I'll let you know when you can turn the power on."
The hum of the refrigerator dies with the electricity, leaving the cabin completely quiet. You return to the glider and book, thumbing through to find your place. Convenient, the screened porch catches the fleeting hours of direct sunlight that hits the cabin. It also allows you a chance to watch and listen to him work.
"Name's John, by the way," He says after a while, voice clipped, meeting your eye through the screen when you look up. "You didn't ask."
It's off-putting, the way he speaks. It wasn't as if he conducted himself with overt kindness at his store, but you hadn't expected him - John - to take a tone with you, a stranger. A newcomer. Your smile is eager to smooth things over, a beat faster than any instinct to fight, always has been. "You're right, how rude of me."
His focus returns to the light, giving a slight roll of his shoulders as if your apology lifted a weight off his back. "S'alright, reckon you're learning how things work 'round here."
You want to return to Winterson in your lap, but the poorly disguised condescension fans a spark of annoyance. "You haven't asked for mine."
"I know yours," He responds, pulling a rag from a loop on his pants to wipe at something. "Kate talks."
The paperback spine creaks in your grip. "I suppose that comes with owning the watering hole."
He chuckles, exchanging the rag for a pair of pliers. "Something like that."
You don't ask. Handsome John may be, but he is definitely weird. Best to avoid the bad side of the nearest grocer, handyman, and locksmith. You return to reading, and another half hour slips past. You don't notice until the hum of the refrigerator restarts, practically jolting you out of the chair.
John stands washing his hands in your kitchen sink. You did not invite him in. His head turns, seemingly hearing how your breath stutters, and he nods at the switch beside the door.
"Give 'er a try," He says, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
The light works, and you flick it a few times to be sure. You stare up at the light, listening to its muted hum.
"Y'know," John murmurs, suddenly behind you in the doorway, leaning, supported by an arm, on the frame well above your head. "This is an old place. Doesn't get let often. Probably more repairs hiding around here. Already saw a few holes in the screen. I can take a walkthrough and fix what I can while I'm here."
Your head dips back, neck craning to meet his eye at this angle. It doesn't occur to you to move despite the whole of the front yard before you. You swallow. He's only trying to drum up business. A small-town entrepreneur. Trying to survive just like you. "Maybe another time."
John raps two knuckles on the frame and pushes off. "Alright, I'll gather my things." He brushes against you as he passes and collects his tools and stepladder.
You watch him from the entry and offer a weak smile when he returns, holding a notepad. He fishes a pencil out from a pocket, scribbling a moment, before he tears off a page and holds it out – an old-fashioned carbon invoice.
Not weird, just different.
"Pay when you can. You know where to find me."
You take the invoice. "Not afraid I'll skip town?" You joke, trying to gauge his sense of humor.
He grins and huffs a laugh. It sounds only a little forced. "Not at all. I know all the best spots from the bay to the mountains, for hiding or otherwise." He rubs the back of his neck.
Your brows creep up. "Or otherwise?"
John's eyes widen a fraction, and his hand slips from his neck in a gesture of surrender. "Don't mean anything by that. More like…for food. Dinner, maybe? A hike?"
The sheepishness of his tone does him credit. So what if he's a little awkward or indelicate? Probably as nervous as you are, though clearly for different reasons. In town for all of two weeks and already a local's taken interest. Inwardly, you preen.
"That sounds like a date."
"It does." He concedes.
You start to shut the door on him, stopping when his expression falls into absolute confusion. A laugh bubbles up, and you open the door again. "Well? You didn't ask," You playfully turn his words back on him.
"Smart one, aren't you. Alright then," He muses aloud, smiling. "Would you like to grab dinner later this week? Know a good spot within a half hour of here."
The way he looks at you, eyes crinkling with interest, you don't suppose it's a bad idea to get out, make friends, and immerse yourself in the community. "I'd like that, John."
There's a triumphant glint in his eyes. "I'll be in touch, sweetheart." He dips his head, returns to his truck, and flashes a wave when he pulls a u-turn and drives out.
That night, when you return from a walk to watch the sunset, you flip on the porch light, grinning, thinking about your date.
You do not notice the little red dot within the bulb.
#john price#price x you#price x reader#john price x you#john price x reader#john price x female reader#captain john price x you#john price x f!reader#x f!reader#price x female reader#cod fanfic#cod fic
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chapter 1: nothing's new
Pairing: Victor!Treech x fem!Reader
Summary: After nearly two years of peace, you are called back to the Capitol only to find that the future they promised you was a lie.
Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Cursing, Suggestive Themes, Use of Weapons, Mention of Injuries, Minor Character Death.
Word Count: 6.5k
Series Masterlist | Next Chapter
Coriolanus Snow is many things, he thinks to himself, but incompetent is not one of them. So there had been the Lucy Gray hiccup. Helping her cheat the Games only for her to die at the hands of Dr. Gaul’s snakes after he failed to slip the handkerchief into their tank was inconvenient, to say the least. As was his brief stint as a Peacekeeper as punishment for his dishonest tactics following the discovery of a certain compact with her remains. Still, he had learned a valuable lesson. Love is no more than a disadvantage, a distraction lodging itself like an unfortunate bump in his flawless plan. And now, he is back, having traded Sejanus’s life for his own advancement. It was nothing personal, really. Personal is a luxury, the only one he can not afford.
Sure, the loss had hurt, but the District 7 boy made a fine victor and one he could control with a far greater degree of ease, given the detachment he felt in regard to the kid’s safety. New year, new him, new Games, and this time, things would be different.
His proposals had gone through without much struggle, especially with Dr. Gaul practically eating out of the palm of his hand. He is the protege; his mentor is the kind of woman you do not cross without bearing the consequences.
And so, on this fine morning, as he stands with the casual grace of a cat, elegantly perched on the corner of his desk, he can’t fight the grin that spreads across his face as he delivers the order he’s been waiting for weeks to give.
“Well? Go get them.”
It is a cold day in District 10, at least colder than most you think as you finish your daily sweep of the ranch and its expansive territory. You pull back lightly on the reins, bringing the horse to a slow stop.
“To name an animal, any animal, it’s counterproductive. Selfish even. Makes for a more difficult slaughter; always best to remain detached.” Your father’s words echo in your head as you dip your neck to whisper soft praise to the creature below, her hind branded with a string of three numbers: 039. Her label, to call it a name, would be to demean anyone granted the privilege of such a thing.
“That was good Bluebell, nice easy ride. Told you it would get better.” She is young. Young enough to spook with a fair amount of ease, but then so are you. Had been ever since your Games.
You dismount, hitting the ground with a soft thud before coming around to face the gentle giant and fishing a handful of sugar cubes out of your pocket. She nuzzles the food in your palm before beginning to eat, and you run a hand up and down the bridge of her nose. The world is quiet, dew still catching the light of the rising sun when you see it in the distance: the armored vehicle speeding towards the cabin housing the front office. It is not unusual for Peacekeepers to come and go from the building, but the night shift typically does not end until 8:00 am, and dawn’s colors still paint the lower half of the sky. Something is wrong.
Two men exit the vehicle, entering the small building before quickly reappearing at its entrance, a third companion in tow. He stands on the porch for one beat, two, a lazy hand draped over his eyes as he scans the field for something. Someone. And then he points. You. They are looking for you.
Your heart leaps into your throat, and your body screams at you to mount once more and ride as fast and as far away as you can, but you stay rooted. Frozen. You watch, helplessly still, as the car only comes closer, pulling to a stop on the other side of the fence, keeping the pastures separated from the open road. The Peacekeeper in the passenger seat steps out, boots scraping the gravel.
“Ms. L/N?” You only nod.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us; you’ve been called to the Capitol.” You feel like screaming, but your throat constricts, and all you can do is take slow, encumbered breaths as your body caves in on itself and you crumple to the ground.
“I– What?”
You do not mind the mud on your knees, and the slow chill that begins to spread from the places dampened by the wet grass is barely perceptible in your state of shock. Called to the Capitol. Your mind jumps back home, your brother and sister still tucked away, blankets to their chins. They would not rise for another thirty minutes at least. You picture your mother. Savoring a final moment of quiet in her busy day, sipping the coffee you’d left in the pot just for her. Your mind replays the goodbyes you had paid them this morning. Careless and quick, not like the day of the reaping. Just sloppy kisses pressed haphazardly to their foreheads and a gentle farewell on your way out the door.
“That’s not possible– It’s not– I haven’t…” There is an eerie stillness to the world at this time of day. One that only seems to press inwards, suffocating you. Distantly, you feel the soft pressure of Bluebell’s muzzle on your shoulder as though urging you to get up
Though the man in the driver’s seat seems annoyed by the inconvenience, his partner fails to shield the look of pity that flits across his face as he dips to pass through the fence, pulling you up and then back through the gap with him. He is not rough as he sets you in the backseat, not like the Peacekeepers you remember from your Games, or maybe he is; everything seems a blur as the car makes its way to the train station, and it is only as the compartment doors to close behind you that you think of Bluebell, left out in the pasture, probably licking fallen sugar cubes off the ground.
Treech releases a labored exhale as he tries once more to readjust his grip on the axe. It’s just a tree. He can sense the nearby Peacekeeper shuffling from foot to foot, anxious for him to get on with the process. This is not the arena. I am safe. I am home.
There is no time off granted to returning victors following their stint in the Games. Production is production, and there are quotas to be met, so Treech had arrived home, and the following morning, before the sun had kissed the hilltops with its light, he had risen to go to work. Only work didn’t come easy the way it used to, lulling him into a rhythmic sense of comfort with its repetitive motions, and each time he raised his axe, all he saw was them. The other tributes waiting to receive the killing blow.
Treech wipes the sweat from his brow in a single frustrated motion in spite of the cold, then, squaring his jaw, he takes a swing. Crunch. The axe lodges itself in Teslee’s head, and he stumbles back, eyes wide with fear. Only it is not Teslee. No. He blinks once, twice, and it is only a pine tree, and he is back in the forest, sinking under the weight of the Peacekeeper’s heavy glare. The man, stationed less than a yard away, begins to move towards him, and Treech prepares himself for another beating, the sharp threats from the last time still ringing in his ears.
“Officer,” a voice calls out in their direction as another man of higher rank, from what Treech can gauge, approaches the pair. The two men meet and begin to speak in hushed voices, eyes flitting in his direction every few sentences. They’re gonna fire me. Or worse, string me up in the square and use me as an example. His grip on the axe tightens. His axe. His father’s before him. He will not go down without a fight.
“Hey, you,” Treech keeps his eyes on the forest floor, silently praying to any higher power that will listen that he is not the you in question.
“Hey! Hey, you!” He can hear the man approaching, but the sound of his footsteps is dulled by the pounding of Treech’s heart. He feels like a child in a bathtub, head halfway under the surface as the water beats at his eardrums, completely still and as loud as a tidal wave. A firm grasp settles around the fabric of his winter coat, far too thin for the cold but the best he can afford.
“Listen to me when I’m fucking speaking to you,” the Peacekeeper spits, and Treech’s mouth settles into a hard line, his hand curled into a tight fist, twitching by his side. The man before him huffs in frustration.
“Call came in from the Capitol; you’re on the next train out,” he moves as though he’s going to release Treech before yanking him back in, close enough to press his mouth to the boy’s ear.
“You’re lucky the order came from above; if I had a say, I’d gun you down right here for the disrespect.” With that, he gives the kid before him a hard shove before beginning to stalk off.
“Let’s go.” But Treech feels as though the ground beneath him has disappeared. Back to the Capitol? Would they send him into the arena? He was done. Won his Games fair and square. He was supposed to be free. What more could they want?
The first thing you notice about the train is that it is the nicest thing you have ever set foot inside of. During your Games, and all those before and after, transport to the Capitol had been relegated to old cattle cars used to shuttle livestock across Panem, and the same had been true on your return trip. This is different. Every inch of the compartment is decorated with the lavish and ornate, all-cushioned seats and elaborate chandeliers.
The second thing you notice is the boy. He is older than you, you think, by several years. Five, maybe six. He seems out of place, tucked into the corner of one of the booths, sizing you up suspiciously. He looks familiar.
“I– Do I know you?”
“We’ve never met before,” he responds, cold and guarded. But there is something about him, his build, tall and broad, dark skin and brown eyes; you could almost imagine them looking soft and kind in a different environment.
He keeps the sharp look on his face, and you have yet to move from the doors when it clicks.
“You won seven years ago; I remember you. District 11. Teff, right?”
“You’re the girl from 10,” he says, and his posture relaxes, if only by a fraction.
“Y/N.” You smile, and you mean it to be a comfort, but there’s a fear in your eyes that betrays the anxiety deep in your gut. Still, you move closer, sliding into the seat across from him and bringing your hands into a neat pile on your lap.
“What are we doing here?” It’s small and whispered as it escapes your lips, and your gaze refuses to meet Teff’s as you wait for an answer.
“I have no idea.”
It is several hours before the train stops again, and though they are mostly passed in silence, the occasional attempt is made at small talk. Whispered theories mingle among everyday questions. So, what do you do in District 11? Do you think they’re gonna kill us? There’s lots of horses back home, cows too. They can’t put us back in, right? Only once, that’s what they said.
The next time the doors open, you are in 2, as indicated by the towering stone walls keeping it separate from neighboring Districts. Three people get on. One of the boys you recognize immediately: Octavian Blackwell, the first victor. His hair is dark, clipped short in a sort of military cut, and his eyes look as though they are carved from steel. Beside him is a girl, small and lithe, her posture relaxed and tense all at once. Antonia. The name echos out from some dark, cavernous corner of your mind. The first female victor, 3rd Hunger Games. The final boy is taller than both his counterparts, though leaner in build than Octavian; you wrack your brain, praying for some form of recollection, but he remains unfamiliar to you.
“More victors,” whispers Teff, and you watch as the three faces before you seem to come to the same realization.
“What the fuck is going on?” It’s the District 2 boy who breaks the silence, the one whose name continues to elude you.
“Hector,” Antonia hisses, a warning lacing her tone, but her eyes betray a curiosity lingering beneath the surface.
“They can’t put us back in, right? There’s not enough. Not to mention, half the districts wouldn’t even have tributes,” you sputter the words up, an involuntary torrent of concern spewing from your mouth. Your gaze flits nervously from face to face, and in spite of the many hardened exteriors, you can feel it beneath the surface, a brewing apprehension. Octavian breaks the silence.
“They won’t put us back in.” And he seems certain. He is old, you think. Not old in the way a grandparent is, but aged certainly. You had never taken the time to imagine a tribute outside childhood, escaping adolescence into fully formed adulthood, but here was Octavian, who must have been at least twenty-six, with several deep-set wrinkles beginning to mar his brow.
“Probably just rounding us all up to kill us, send a real message after those shitshow Games last year,” Hector grumbles, moving further into the compartment and thrusting himself into the booth across from you and Teff. “Just watch; I bet we’ll hit 4 next, then 7, and 1.”
The noise of uncomfortable shuffling seems to fill the compartment, and eventually, Octavian and Antonia settle into the booth beside Hector. You can’t help but allow the shell of a laugh to brush past your lips. A whole train car for the lot of you, and here you were, pressed into the two corner booths. Sure, the cage is bigger, but you still cower like animals. Like you’re back in those trucks ushering you from the train to the arena, gleaning a last moment of comfort as you brushed shoulders with the children you would watch die.
Hector was right. The train stopped at 4, though only one boy got on. Trawl, he’d won the 8th Games, just before yours. You remember distantly hearing of another victor from 4, a boy who was killed upon return. Murdered by the father of his district partner, who accused him of killing her. Stabbed him in the town square, they said. The Peacekeepers only watched.
The train grinds once more to a halt in 7, and quick glance outside the window reveals a station made entirely of wood, grand posts carved with ornate designs supporting the massive roof. You glance towards the door, waiting for him, the newest victor. You do not have to work hard to recall his name, Treech; the two syllables had echoed from every radio in your mother's house the day the 10th Games ended.
The doors open with a hiss, and he stumbles in as though pushed, a mop of curls obscuring his eyes. He seems dazed. As he lifts his head, you watch it happen. The same realization that had dawned on every victor to enter the compartment after you, but then his gaze only grows dull as though accepting some secret fate you had yet to be alerted of before he shuffles forward, taking a seat on a longer bench facing the door. Alone.
It is several more hours before you reach 1, and although some hushed conversation continues to fill the train car, you sit in silence, casting worried glances at the quiet boy with his head in his hands. He is not crying, you think; his shoulders are too still, but his breathing remains too rapid to indicate sleep. Maybe he just likes to listen, you suppose, trying to grasp the newest direction of the chatter around you. Maybe he’s scared. As you turn once more to analyze his hunched shape, Trawl catches your line of sight, speaking up from beside you.
“Just leave him alone; if he wants to sit by himself sulking, that’s his problem,” he mutters close to your ear.
“For all we know, we could be walking into an ambush. Give him a break,” you say, moving to stand before making your way over to the place on the bench beside him. You are quiet for a time, unsure how to start, but as your lips begin to purse around a greeting, he interrupts you.
“I like your hat.” His voice is flat, a single eye visible from behind the curtain of his hair. You forgot you were wearing a hat. It was your father’s from his brief time on the ranch before transferring to the slaughterhouse, where he met your mom. Your hand darts up to trace the brim.
“Thanks, it was–” But then his tone registers, and you recognize the snark behind the compliment, “You don’t mean that, do you?”
“You some sort of cowgirl?”
“How do you know what a cowgirl is?” You ask, and your eyebrows draw together in surprise at the knowledge.
“Read about them in school once, before I dropped out.”
“I guess so. Usually, people just call me a ranch hand.” He lifts his head at this, and you realize he’s quite pretty on closer viewing.
“Doesn’t sound as cool.” The ghost of a smirk lights his face as he says it.
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” you say, grinning back. His smile is quick to fade, and he turns once more, fixing his gaze ahead, away from you.
“Why are we here?” He asks, his cocky demeanor gone in an instant. You ache to be able to provide him with an answer, but the same question has been clawing at you since the two men showed up on the ranch this morning.
“I– I’m not sure.” He nods, and it is solemn, like a prayer, but he does not return his face to his hands, instead watching the miles of land roll by in a blur, no single thing occupying the space outside the window for longer than a second. You find yourself looking, too, imagining how it must feel to go 250 mph. You decide it's probably like flying.
By the time you reach 1 to collect its two victors, a searing silence has spread over the train, the atmosphere tense. The journey to the Capitol is so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and as the skyline appears over the barriers built to keep people like you out, you feel the apprehension shrouding the compartment begin to buzz. It is only then that Hector speaks, shattering the stillness with a single phrase.
“Welcome back to Hell.”
The sun is setting as the train pulls into the station, and you twitch nervously, scraping your nails against the pads of your fingertips. Beside you, Treech watches your movements with a fixed gaze as though pondering reaching out to still the repetitive motions himself. He does not, and you fail to notice his attention on you at all, eyes fixed ahead on the double doors.
When they open, a swarm of Peacekeepers descends on the car within a matter of seconds, hoisting you from the seats, snatching at arms and shoulders in their attempts to muscle you out of the compartment. A startled yelp escapes your lips as the man with a harsh grasp on the collar of your shirt rips you forward and onto the platform, jostling your hat from your head.
“No–” You lunge for the single remnant of your father, straining against the Peacekeeper working to wrangle you towards an awaiting vehicle, but it is no use. He wraps you in a firm pair of arms, lifting you, kicking and biting from the ground the remainder of the distance before tossing you onto the floor of the car. As you whip around to assail him once more, the doors fall closed with a thud, leaving you to pound futilely against them.
Eventually, your jabs lose their power, and you sink down, forehead pressed to the cool metal, biting your lip to prevent the oncoming tears from spilling over. A hand makes its presence known on your shoulder as the car begins to move, and you turn to glimpse Trawl, his face painted with concern. A quick once over of the vehicle reveals only half the victors had been loaded on: you, Trawl, and the two tributes from 1, Lux, who sits with both hands clasped primly in her lap, and Beau, whose only visible sign of distress is the repeated preening of his hair.
“My– My hat. It was my dad’s–” you stutter out as Trawl helps you onto the seat beside his, “I don’t– there’s nothing else left.” The concern in his eyes settles into pity, and you feel like shrinking under the weight of his compassion, tired of feeling helpless.
It is not long before the car pulls to a stop, and the doors come open once more. It is dark out now, and you can’t help but find it unusual, the feeling that you are being smuggled, rushed in under the cover of night. Typically everything is a display in the Capitol. If they are going to kill you, where are the cameras? You are ushered into an elevator, and one of the Peacekeepers extends an arm, scanning a card before pressing the button for the top floor. You think distantly this might be some sort of hotel. You have never been inside a hotel before. A simple ding alerts you to the fact that you have reached your destination, and you are jostled out and through the door directly before you following the swipe of another card.
It is a large room. You had always believed hotels came with the promise of a bed, but this seems more like a home: a kitchen with appliances you do not recognize, a luxurious lounge with a semicircular couch facing a large projection, and a man, his hair as white as snow.
“Please, let’s not manhandle our guests,” he calls out to the group of Peacekeepers herding you into the center of the room, and they back away, taking up posts on the surrounding walls. Their message is clear: you are not permitted to leave.
You reach up to rub at the place where, only moments before, your arm had been kept in an iron grip when the door to the room flings open again, the remainder of the victors stumbling in. Teff comes first, ripping his bicep from the man beside him upon entrance, followed by Hector, Antonia, and Octavian, who seem more contained. Last is Treech, a newly formed bruise beginning to darken the area around his eye, and your father's hat held delicately in his hand, fingers pinched around the rim. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor but lifts his head upon hearing your stifled gasp.
“Come, make yourselves comfortable. I don’t bite, I promise.” The man at the front of the room speaks with a placating tone and words meant to dulcify, but he smiles like a wolf. No one moves.
“Let’s try this again. Sit down.” From behind you, you can hear the Peacekeepers beginning to shuffle from their stations, inching forward. Octavian is the first to budge. He takes a tentative step in the direction of the couch before nodding at Antonia and Hector, who follow close behind. You look to Teff and then to Treech, only a few feet away from him, still holding your father’s hat. The former surveys the room once before giving you a slow nod, and you move to sit. They file in behind you, Trawl quick on their heels, and the four of you occupy a single corner of the couch being sure to leave room for Lux and Beau. As he slides into the seat next to yours, Treech tenderly sets the hat atop your lap, and you mouth a subtle thank you that he leaves unacknowledged.
“Much better.” The man before you grins, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a look of recognition pass across Treech’s face.
“So glad you could all join us.” He claps his hands together before clearing his throat to begin.
“Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering what you’re doing here, and I want to assure you that in spite of the worries you expressed on the train, we are not going to kill you.” A chill passes down your spine at his implication: they had been watching you.
“See, you represent a new beginning. The birth of a different kind of Games. A better kind of Games.” A wave of confusion seems to pass over the lot of you. Though it is more like anxiety, and you feel a bit like you are drowning in it.
“Now, last year, well, that was quite the mess,” he says, nodding to Treech as though they are in on some sort of joke together. Your stomach turns.
“But the important thing is, we learned something: the people of the Capitol need someone to care about. To root for, if you will. Which means it’s time for a new way of thinking.” He pauses as though for dramatic effect, and you can’t help but think his speech feels practiced. Had he smiled this morning, delivering his death knell to the bathroom mirror?
“Right now, the Games, they make people sad, uncomfortable even. Too much humanity, not enough spectacle.” Beside you, Treech tenses. “There is nothing commodifiable about the current structure. But if, say, we were to place a higher value on the victors and make you celebrities of sorts, then this blight becomes an honor.” The nine faces before him appear as though they are sculpted from stone; he clears his throat before continuing.
“And how, you may ask, do we plan to do that? Well, starting this year, the past victors will be in charge of mentoring the children from your districts.” Here, there is some breakage. Anger, plain and simple, seeping through the masks. Antonia begins to speak.
“Fuck no–”
“I’m not finished, thank you. Now, this will come with an array of new challenges. There will, of course, be interviews to prepare them for, something you obviously have no experience with, as well as a tribute parade.” Your nose crinkles in disgust as the sole image your mind conjures is last year’s tributes chained to a flatbed truck, Brandy’s dead body swaying from a crane above them. Brandy, who you knew. Who was only one year younger than you. Who had a talent for soothing any creature with which she came in contact and who cried for three days the first time she killed a hog.
“And you will be in charge of organizing sponsorships once they are in the arena, networking, and such. But not to worry, each of you will be given an escort from the Capitol, someone to help you navigate the trickier aspects of the job. And you will not go unrewarded either. Starting this year, victors will be granted financial compensation as well as eventual housing in a Victor’s Village, which will be put up in each of your home districts. Still, we will need to begin with a sort of reintroduction to teach the public what your new role as a victor is, and–”
“That’s not fair,” you mumble, so quiet you think no one hears.
“Excuse me?” The man’s gaze is icy cold, like a knife to the chest.
“That’s– That’s not fair. What about the kids in 12? 8? 6 and 5? If you do this, the same people will win every year.” You stare back, and when your hands begin to shake, you hide them beneath your thighs.
“I don’t typically give lessons in power for free; you should be grateful.”
“You’re evil.” And it is not a question. You are certain.
“Not evil, just practical.”
“The Capitol hates us, they think we’re scum. They’ll never get behind this,” Treech offers from beside you, and you see it on him, the mark of last year's Games. The toll they took.
“If the citizens of the Capitol think we care, they will too. I’ll put you on television with the goddamned President if I have to. This will work.”
“What if we won’t do it?” Teff demands, his voice low, tinged with a warning.
“You have a family, do you not?” The man asks, and the threat pools in his eyes, but he voices it anyway. “Would you like to continue having a family?” It is quiet for a moment, and the weight of his words feels heavier than anything you’ve ever carried in your life.
“We were supposed to be done. We won our Games,” It is Hector who speaks this time, rising from his seat. He pauses for a moment, then raises his brow as though in a challenge. “Well, I don’t have any family. Not anymore. Not thanks to this bullshit fucking system, so you know what? I think I’ll pass.” From beside him, Antonia claws at his arm, a pleading look in her eyes. It is too late. The man with the white hair nods, and two of the Peacekeepers on the back wall step forward.
“That’s too bad. He can go.” They are on Hector in a matter of seconds, but they do not make for the door; instead, they seize him, one on each arm, and turn towards the hallway, splitting off from the large central room. Several victors move to stand, with Trawl and Octavian making an attempt to follow, but they are swiftly restrained, and you sit in silent shock as the sounds of Hector’s struggle become distant. A door slams. Then, a gunshot. After that, it is quiet. Your limbs feel stiff, frozen even. From your other side, Lux releases a stifled sob. Somewhere in the distance, you hear Teff throw up.
“Anyone else have any concerns they wish to voice?” It’s as though you have all stopped breathing.
“Wonderful. We’ll begin in the morning. You’ll each have a team here to prepare you for the press tour. Your rooms are numbered by district. Be ready at 5:00 am sharp. I’d hate to have any more incidents.”
“So, we’re trapped here?” You speak again, though the sound of your own voice comes as a shock. The man only sighs.
“This is not a prison, no. Though we would prefer you not leave the premises–” You don’t give him time to finish, making a hasty exit through the door where you came in.
“Just make sure she doesn’t leave the building,” he sighs with a haphazard wave of his hand in your direction.
You are at the bar when Treech finds you, two glasses of Posca deep.
He hadn’t meant to go looking for you, really, only to clear his head and get away from that room. Shortly after your departure, two men had entered with a stretcher and left only minutes later with it full, the vague outline of a body visible beneath a white linen sheet. He had followed them out and then quickly abandoned their company at the prospect of sharing their elevator, instead descending the stairs. From the 32nd floor. And there you were, right as the door to the lobby opened, hat on the bar and your eyes fixed on something he wasn’t sure was really there.
“No hard liquor here. At least not for us,” you huff, slumping in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.
“And don’t bother asking for the bottle either. They’ll just give you one of these. Nothing more dignified than drowning my sorrows in a glass that costs more than my mother’s house,” you wave a limp hand at the ornate flute before you, doing little to disguise the biting sarcasm in your tone.
“I’ll take what she’s having,” Treech mutters to the man behind the bar, though he keeps his eyes fixed on the counter, unwilling to bear the weight of the curious gaze being pressed upon the pair of you.
“Do you remember them, the other tributes?” You ask suddenly, as though the thought had been clouding your mind for hours.
“The other victors?” You shake your head.
“No. The other kids in the arena.” Treech freezes for only a moment, caught off guard, but it’s enough time for the truth to plaster itself across his face. Every day.
“Sure.” You don’t say anything, only sit patiently, waiting for him to continue. “There was– There was Lamina; she was from home.” I watched her die. I sat by and did nothing. “And there was Coral and Mizzen; they were from 4. And the youngest. She was from 8. Had these hearts made of buttons on her pants. Wovey, I think. From 12, there was Lucy Gray, the girl who sang. Reaper, he was the last to die. I killed him. Killed the girl from 3, too. Teslee.”
He feels his voice begin to waver and opts to stop talking. You sit in silence for a moment, trading quiet nods with the bartender as he returns with Treech’s drink.
“Rye.”
“Sorry?” Treech asks, still lost in the memories of his fellow tributes.
“He was the youngest. He had these eyes just like my kid brother, big and sad. He just stood there, I remember, when the games started. The boy from 2 killed him; just walked up and broke his neck. Couldn’t have been that hard; he was so small. But he looked so surprised like he hadn’t known it was coming, even after he hit the ground.” Treech thinks he might be sick, and beside him, the color has drained from your face.
“Twenty-four kids every year, and we’ll have front-row seats to all of it. The people in the districts, in the Capitol, they’ll forget, let a name or two slip, but we’ll see them all. Watch them train, see their interviews, pick them apart in hopes of a weakness.” Treech downs his glass in one go before signaling to the bartender he needs a refill. You push your flute in the same direction, looking the District 7 boy up and down as though you’d never given him too much thought before.
“I never envied you. The way the Capitol dragged you through the streets for all those funerals, put you behind bars in a fuckin’ zoo, had you play nice and pleasant before sending you off to slaughter. At least ours was quick. Picked us all up on the train, threw us in the back of a truck, and then dumped us in the arena. Nobody knew who we were. Nobody wanted to.” You break off in a laugh that is brittle and unforgiving.
“Maybe it’ll be better this way. I’m in the market for a new job. Turns out you’re no good at chopping trees when you can barely hold an axe anymore,” Treech jokes, but the smile on his face does not reach his eyes.
“They–” but you are quick to pause, halting mid-sentence as though contemplating continuing. You exhale softly before clearing your throat and lifting your eyes once more to meet his.
“They had to fire me.” Treech’s brows lurch forward in confusion, creating two dimples in the flesh just above his nose.
“At the slaughterhouse,” you supply. “They had to fire me. I couldn’t– I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t kill anything. The Peacekeepers, they just wanted me gone. I’m pretty sure they would have just gotten rid of me too, you know, set an example, but I knew the guy who ran the place. I used to give his daughter art lessons. He made a call, and I got transferred. Started working as a ranch hand instead.” You stop, and for a moment, Treech thinks you’ve finished.
“I kept thinking they were him. I would pick up the knife, and suddenly, it was like I was back in the arena, watching him die.” The last part came out in a whisper.
“They say what I did to that kid; they say it was mercy. A mercy kill. But I still killed him, and he’s still dead. And I have never stopped thinking about it.” You clear your throat once more and cast your gaze down, hoping to disguise the tears collecting in your eyes. Treech takes notice. He remembers a conversation not two months prior with his mother. The way his voice shook as he spoke. About the games. About the other tributes. He recalls the twisted expression of discomfort she bore, the pity, and above all, his own anger at feeling helpless. Wounded.
“Art lessons? You paint?” Relief, instant and undisguised, etches itself across your features.
“Draw, mostly. Charcoal, pencil, anything easy to come by. I was gonna be a veterinarian before– Well, you know. I was practicing for scientific sketches, but I just sort of fell in love with the way they moved– animals.”
“You have a favorite?”
“Horses are the hardest. Cows– they’re soft, like people. Some people, I guess. I saw a fox once, little gray thing, sleeping in the grass. I think maybe I liked that one the best. My mom used to say it was good luck, a fox crossing your path. Though, I can’t imagine how. That– That was the day before my reaping.”
You sit in silence for a moment before Treech speaks again.
“You lived. Maybe that was it: the good luck.”
“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Like maybe everyone else got out easy, and here we are still living in a nightmare.”
“It won’t be like this forever,” he whispers, but it’s as though he’s pleading with some higher power that it might be true. “It can’t be.”
“Wake up, Treech. This is it for us. They are gonna drag us out here every year to flounce around the capitol, parading new kids to their deaths– or worse, whatever this is, the horrible aftermath–”
“There’ll be new mentors. New winners–”
“Yeah, in 1 and 2 and maybe 4. Don’t you get it? We’re the runt districts. We’ll be lucky if we see another Victor in the next twenty-five years,” Treech swallows hard, willing his mouth to stop tasting so dry; he can feel his heart in the pit of his stomach. “Maybe you ran with the pack in your games, but things are gonna change. Look around. They already are.”
#treech#treech fanfiction#treech thg#treech x reader#treech tbosas#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas x reader#tbosas#the hunger games#hunger games#district 7#x reader#thg#no evil angel but love#neabl
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The Book Keeper
Kili x Reader
Fandom: Tolkien
Summary: On an unsuspecting summer afternoon, Gandalf the Gray shows up on your front porch and, much like he did to Bilbo, sweeps you up into an adventure you never could have imagined. With the knowledge of things to come, will you be able to change the ending?
Note: For my sanity, we’re pretending the book describes the dwarves the way they look in the movies. Also I’m gonna deviate a bit from book canon and dip my toes (more like my entire leg) into movie canon just because things flow a little better that way. Also also, I took some liberties with the Dwarvish courting customs. I will probably also be uploading this to AO3 at some point, separated into chapters for easier navigation.
Bear with me and behold my Magnum Opus.
Warnings: canon-typical violence, the Hobbit spoilers, alcohol/drinking, some angst but a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries, kind of a slow burn but very fluffy
Word Count: 45k
Reader Is: Female, from our world, 23 years old
Stuck. You were stuck. You read the last few sentences back to yourself, but they didn’t make anything click. You’d lost your steam and now, you were stuck once again.
Writing was a lot harder than it looked, that was for sure, but writing something fantasy? You were finding the task nearly impossible. When you’d started the project several months before, it had seemed so fun. You’d grown up on Narnia, on Lord of the Rings. Building your own fantasy world would be quite the task, you’d known, but perhaps you didn’t know quite how time consuming it would be, let alone when you added in the characters and their characterizations, which fantasy creatures to include, how the magic would work, how the weapons would work and so on and so forth.
Thinking about it too much gave you a headache, so you sat back in your chair, closing your laptop. Maybe you needed a break. Some more caffeine, maybe, some stretches for your strained neck and sore wrists.
You stood up and walked to the kitchen to make yourself an iced coffee, filling a glass halfway with ice before pouring in some cold brew and milk. You slipped a bamboo straw into your drink and stirred the liquids until they were better acquainted with one another.
You looked around the kitchen, thinking. This was your parents’ house. You’d moved back in with them after graduating college until you could figure out what to do with your degree. Your dream, of course, was to be a full time writer, to adventure, to find inspiration for a great story, but for now, you were working part time at the local book store, writing your stories in the time you were at home.
Most days, you were left to your own devices, your parents out of the house and the place all to yourself. It was quiet. Kind of lonely, if you were honest, and so you spent most of your days escaping into movies, books, and your own fantasy world. It was kind of monotonous. You couldn’t even count how many days you’d lost this way.
“Is this what burnout feels like?” You wondered, chuckling and shaking your head. It probably was, you reasoned. You’d spent so long at school that now that you were done, you didn’t really know what to do with your life, and…even if you did, you didn’t have the energy to do it.
You let out a long sigh, which was interrupted by the ringing of your doorbell.
Maybe it was the lap desk you’d ordered on Amazon, you thought in passing, walking in that direction. But when you got there, there was no box sitting on the porch. Instead, there was a tall man in a gray cloak and a gray pointy hat standing there.
“Um, hi?” You asked, your eyes narrowing at the stranger, who you were beginning to believe wasn’t just someone cosplaying Gandalf.
“(Y/N) (L/N),” He grinned. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for quite some time, now.”
“Gandalf?” You asked, and he nodded, seemingly proud of your answer.
“Hello, dear girl.” He tipped his hat to you. “May I come in?”
And while there was some part of you telling you this was simply too good to be true, another, more desperate part of you knew if he was real, he wouldn’t be here without good reason. “Uh, yeah, of course. Come on in.”
So, you made him a cup of tea and the two of you settled in to the couch in your living room. Gandalf looked around, amused by your house. He’d seen many houses in his time, although none quite so…modern. It wasn’t often he got the pleasure of travelling to your realm.
“So you’re…the Gandalf. Gandalf the Gray. From…the Tolkien books and stuff.” You wondered, sipping your iced coffee, still in a state of total shock. Maybe you’d fallen asleep at the keyboard and this was nothing more than an exhausted hallucination, cooked up by your writer’s block.
“Quite the same.” He nodded, a glimmer of amusement in his wise eyes. “I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“Yeah, I…I am.”
“You see, I’m in need of some assistance. For an adventure. One you are…quite familiar with.”
You stared at him for a long time before remembering you should say something. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh I think you do.” Gandalf took a long sip from your Captain America mug. “Is there not a book you read in your youth that you wished…had a different ending, perhaps? One you loved very dearly, but…one of the characters you cared for had their own ending cut short…”
You gulped and thought for a long moment, the pieces clicking into place, despite the fact that you were afraid to put them into words. “Are you talking about…?”
His eyes glimmered. “You know what I’m talking about. If you want to come with me, take me up on this offer, all you need to do is follow me out that door.” He pointed to the front door and you stared at it. It didn’t look special, altered, but you knew his magic worked in mysterious ways.
“Why would you want me?” You asked quietly, suddenly unsure. The hope in your chest began to dwindle. “I’m…I mean look at me, I’m not much of an adventurer. I’m a writer. A college burnout. I don’t…” You chuckled pathetically. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”
“You know, I had a Hobbit tell me this very morning that he wasn’t much for adventures either.” He shrugged. “But I believe you know the outcome of that as well. All of this time travel business is rather complicated, isn’t it?”
“What’ll my parents think if I just disappear? How long will I be gone?”
“When I bring you back, it’ll be as though you never even left.” Gandalf reasoned, tilting his head. “And after all, won’t an actual adventure help your story along?”
He drove a hard bargain, that was for sure.
You glanced down the hall towards your room. “Should I…grab my book, then?”
He winked. “You’ll need it.”
You walked to your room and scanned the shelf where you kept your fantasy books. There it was, nestled in there next to Narnia. The Hobbit.
You’d loved the book as a tween when you’d be forced to read it in middle school, but in all honestly, you hadn’t really touched it since. You’d watched the movies, sure, but they were hardly accurate. Your fingers tingled as you took it off of the shelf, and when you got back to the living room, Gandalf was gone.
“Gandalf?” You called. No response. “Gandalf?” Nothing again.
You looked down at the book and back up at the front door. It hadn’t changed at all. It looked ordinary. And yet, you felt a tug in your chest pulling you to see if what the wizard had said was true.
You chuckled and sighed. Or, you’d made the whole thing up in your head. Gandalf had never been there and never would. He didn’t exist.
And then you looked at the coffee table only to find your mug still sitting there, full of steaming tea.
And so, at the risk of feeling like an idiot, you walked to the door, opened it, and stepped over the threshold…into a cozy hobbit hole.
Immediately, you looked back, wide-eyed, expecting to find your front door from the outside, but instead seeing the wide, round door that stood at the entrance of Bilbo Baggins’ home. There was plenty of chatter inside, the deep voices of several rowdy men and one panicked, flustered hobbit.
“H-hello?” You called into the house softly, tentative. You walked a little further, following the voices. “Hellooo??”
Faintly, you heard a now-familiar voice. “Kili, would you go fetch our guest? Seems she’s a bit late.”
You heard a few voices murmur “She?”
Your heart raced as you stood there, waiting. You heard heavy footsteps, and then finally a figure came around the corner. There he was. Kili, the Dwarven Prince, the youngest of the dwarves in the company. He stood a head shorter than you with shoulder-length raven hair and a dusting of stubble across his chin. He was handsome, very much so, in fact. Just the way you’d always imagined him to be.
“Kili.” You whispered, the breath stolen from your lungs as you stood there, bewildered. This was real. He was real.
His breath hitched and he stared at you for a long moment, eyes sparkling as he looked up at you. “I-I’m sorry, have we met before?”
You blinked and shook your head. “Oh. Uh, no. Sorry. I’m (Y/N).”
Kili smiled, charismatic as ever. “You must be this Book Keeper Gandalf speaks of.”
“I guess I am, yeah.” You nodded, staring down at your shoes, shy all of a sudden. You’d been dreaming of this moment for years. Meeting him. Changing things. And yet, being here, doing it…it was terrifying to say the very least.
Your eyebrows furrowed when you got a good look at yourself, though. These were not clothes you were familiar with. Well, you were in a way, you supposed. These were the clothes you’d described the main character of your book to be wearing; a long orange hooded cloak, leather armor on top of a flowing white top. Around your right ring finger, its point facing outwards, was a claddagh ring with a green gem set into it.
You reached up to see if your ears came to a point, and surely enough, they did, just like the Sunset Fae at the heart of the fantasy story you’d been writing. Weird.
“We’re all in here.” Kili motioned behind him, to where he’d come. “Are you from around these parts?”
“Oh! No, I’m from…pretty far from here, actually.”
“Whereabouts?”
Gandalf saved you from having to answer that question. “Dwarves, this is (Y/N) (L/N). The Book Keeper. She’s come all the way from another realm to help you on this journey.”
The rest of the dwarves murmured amongst themselves.
“What does that mean, Gandalf?” One of the dwarves asked.
“Another realm?” whispered another.
“It’s true, what he says.” You confirmed, nodding and letting the words come to you. “Where I come from, there are many tales of this adventure, the things that…have yet to unfold for you. I’m pretty familiar with them. Gandalf thinks I’d be able to steer you in a better direction at some points.”
“Prophecies?” Asked a deep, stern voice. Looking at him, a regal dwarf with dark brown hair, a streak of gray near the front of his head. Your heart raced. He was Thorin, no doubt, and he was every bit as intimidating as you’d heard he’d be.
“Sort of. Where I’m from, it’s presented as a work of fiction, actually.” You nervously tucked a strand of hair behind a pointed ear.
He stiffened. “Are you an elf?”
Your eyes widened. “What? No, I’m not. I’m, uh…”
“She’s human.” Gandalf stated. “Where she’s from she’s human, that is. Our realm’s magic has changed her, it seems.”
“Human?” Kili whispered. Until he spoke, you’d nearly forgotten he was standing beside you, staring at you. In fact, his eyes hadn’t left you since you walked through the door.
You nodded, taking in the company for all that they were. Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, and one wizard who had whisked you away from your normal life into something much more exciting, it seemed. You couldn’t help but get a little choked up, looking at all of them. They had so much left to endure, to survive, to experience.
“I want to help.” You assured them, your voice cracking and a tear slipping down your cheek. “I want to help you. If you’ll have me, your highness. I ask nothing in return. I’m merely…along for the adventure.”
Thorin thought for a long, hard moment. You waited on pins and needles until finally, he relented, “how could we refuse an offer like that?”
***
The next day came and with it, the beginning of the adventure. The dwarves loaned you weapons. Namely, Kili had. In fact, he hadn’t really taken his eyes off of you since the two of you met. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and he already seemed endlessly fascinated by you.
“Tell me again, what is a telephone?” He asked, amusement heavy in his tone.
“It’s a little device that lets you talk to someone really far away.” You explained.
“Incredible.” He chuckled. “And a camera?”
“It’s like a little box that captures memories. Preserves them as a picture so you can look at them later. Sometimes they’re even built into the phone.”
“Did you bring one with you, by any chance?”
You laughed and shook your head. “No, I didn’t, unfortunately. I’m not sure it would have stayed like that when I came here anyway.”
“Right.” Kili was quiet for a few moments as you walked on. “Do you think a telephone would work between realms?”
“Probably not. Why?”
“How else will I keep in touch with you when you go back?” He was flirting, now.
“Maybe Gandalf would bring our letters back and forth.” You suggested, partially joking, but the look it put on his face made you think it wasn’t a joke to him.
“You’d write to me?” He asked sincerely, catching your gaze with his own.
“Of course I would. I’ve been reading about you for years. It would be nice to make you read about me for a change.”
You caught Balin grinning in front of you, an amused, knowing look on his wise face. You’d always admired the oldest of the company. He was wise and kind, looked out for the rest of the dwarves like they were his kids. You hoped maybe at some point, that kind of affection would be turned to you as well.
Soon, you all came upon Gandalf, who had the horses for the journey. Each dwarf claimed a horse while Gandalf pulled you aside, a large bag in his hands. He gave it to you, a glimmer in his eye.
“I thought you could use some supplies for the journey. Some things that might bring you comfort in a strange and unfamiliar land.” He winked.
“Thank you.”
“Gandalf, it seems we’re a horse short.” Thorin informed the wizard. Bilbo had just arrived, and seeing as you weren’t a part of the plan until the day before, it made sense there wasn’t a horse for you. But that did raise the question: what were you going to do?
“Oh, are we?” Gandalf raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. He counted absentmindedly while the dwarves saddled up. “Well, I suppose one of you will have to take the Book Keeper with you, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“I’ll take her!” Kili offered a little too enthusiastically and a little too quickly. Fili laughed at his brother’s display. He’d never seen him behave this way before. He’d had fleeting crushes, sure, but he’d never been desperate like this. He met your eyes, cheeks reddening and shy. “I…if you’d like me to.”
You grinned. “Sure, Kili. Thank you.”
“You seem smitten.” Gandalf commented quietly and you looked up at him.
“Have been since I was like twelve, but I think you knew that when you asked me to come.”
He laughed. “I know many things.” He replied cryptically. “And I knew we’d need someone with a strong motivation to turn the tides.”
“Well, let’s hope I’m the girl for the job.” You chuckled, slinging your bag over your shoulders. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Gandalf chuckled.
You took a peek inside the bag he’d packed you and sitting right on top was a Polaroid camera. It looked out of place in Middle Earth, but you had a feeling it would come in handy.
“What is that?” Fili asked, he and Kili wandering over to you.
“This.” You pulled it out and held it up. “Is a camera.”
“A memory device!” Kili said, excited. “How does it work?”
“Like this.” You turned the camera so it was facing you, Kili, and Fili with Gandalf and some of the other dwarves standing in range, and you pressed the trigger. The camera clicked loudly and then a few moments later, a black square spit out the front of it.
You handed the undeveloped photo to Fili, who looked at it quizzically.
“This is blank.”
“It takes a second to develop. If you shake it, it helps.” You instructed him, and he took your advice, shaking the photo until slowly, figures took shape on its surface, the colors brightening. “See?”
“It’s us!” One of the other dwarves said excitedly, looking at what was unfolding amongst the party’s youngest members.
You grinned. “Yeah, it is.”
***
Once the excitement had died down and everyone was starting to get onto their horses, bidding the Shire one last goodbye, Kili helped you up onto the back of his horse with a strong tug. You adjusted yourself, an arm tentatively settling around his waist.
“You’re going to have to hold on tighter than that, Book Keeper.” He smirked, pulling your arms a bit tighter around himself. “I would hate to have you fall off and hit your pretty head.”
“I’ve never ridden a horse before.” You confessed, cheeks flushing red.
He furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you travel, then?”
“We have…um, motorized vehicles. No horses involved, usually.” You tried to explain in a way he would understand.
“Your realm sounds strange.” One of the other dwarves noted. You were pretty sure it was Ori, but there were a lot of names. Aside from the handful of them that you could identify easily, it was easy for them all to fall to the background. It was your personal mission, however, to make sure you knew them all pretty well before you left.
“Yeah, it kind of is. Especially compared to Middle Earth.” You chuckled.
“Can you fight, girl?” Thorin asked, skeptical of this girl his nephew already seemed too fond of.
“Admittedly, no. There’s no real reason to fight where I’m from, most of the time.” You told him, honest about it. You had no reason to make an enemy of the king of Erebor.
“We’ll teach you how to take care of yourself.” Balin assured you. “Kili there is an excellent archer. I’m sure he could teach you a thing or two.”
“I did archery at camp once.” You reminisced. “I was awful at it.”
“Oh, nonsense.” Kili shook his head and looked at you over his shoulder, smirking and confident. “We’ll make an archer of you yet.”
“We’ll give you sword lessons with Bilbo.” Dwalin joked.
“Good. I’ll need all the lessons I can get.” You chuckled to yourself.
***
The first night on the road, you all stopped just before sunset and set up a camp. You helped the boys unpack things, helped cook dinner, and before long, you’d all settled around a fire, eating dinner and talking amongst yourselves.
The fire’s warmth felt good on your skin, and once the sun went down the rest of the way, the stars in the sky were stunning. You exhaled a long breath, letting go of the stress you’d been holding in. One day down and nothing had gone wrong.
Gandalf was at the edge of camp, smoking his pipe. You felt safe with him there, like nothing could go wrong as long as the wizard was present. You knew, though, that at some point, he’d have to leave, and you’d be more or less on your own.
You pulled the book out of your bag and flipped past the beginning, reading by the fire’s light.
“Checking our progress?” Kili asked, sitting beside you, his leg touching yours and his warmth seeping right through your clothes.
“Something like that.” You chuckled, nodding. You flipped the page and brushed a piece of hair out of your face.
“How are we doing?”
“It’s hard to tell. Everything is so…condensed. There are weeks or even months between some of the major plotpoints.” You informed him, closing the book and letting it sit in your lap. “We should be okay for a while, I think.”
“And then what?” Asked Bilbo, obviously very nervous about the possibilities of this adventure.
“Trolls.” You replied, scrunching your nose.
“Oh.”
“I have to figure out how much I’m supposed to tell you…what things need to happen and which ones can be avoided.” You shook your head. “It’s a tough call to make.”
“I trust you to make the right decisions.” Thorin said, his voice stern, but a little warmer than it had been since he had met you.
“I’ll do my best.” You promised. The chill of the wind caused you to shiver a bit and Kili took notice immediately.
He got up, walked to his supplies, and returned moments later with one of the blankets he had packed, draping it across your shoulders. You were a lot warmer, but you weren’t sure it was entirely from the blanket.
“Thank you, Kili.”
“Of course.” He nodded, sitting beside you again. “You know, you haven’t told me how you knew my name.” His voice was quiet, soft.
You crossed your legs beneath yourself, curling further into his blanket. “What do you mean?”
“Back in the Shire, even before we introduced ourselves to you, you knew who I was.” He looked at you, his eyes sparkling once more in the firelight. The way the orange glow lit up his features made him look so…princely. Sometimes you forgot he was royalty. Times like this, though, it was impossible to not remember.
“Oh. Yeah. That.” You chuckled, looking away from him and instead at the fire in front of the two of you. “I’ve had this book since I was about twelve years old. I’ve read it a handful of times…I guess I could just tell it was you. It’s going to take me some time to put the rest of the names to the faces, though.”
Kili smiled, a warmth blooming in his chest. You didn’t recognize most of the others, but you recognized him. This was shaping up to become quite the adventure indeed.
***
Travelling so much after you’d been comfortable staying in one spot at home was, admittedly, a lot to adjust to. The first few days had taken their toll on your body. You were sore all over from riding on horseback for long hours and, additionally from sleeping on the ground every night. Some nights, you got lucky and the group would stop in a grassy area to make camp, but most nights, it was hard rock beneath you, which wasn’t very forgiving.
One of the days brought the group to a village, where you were able to replenish supplies in the market. Kili bought a beginner’s bow and a set of arrows to teach you to shoot with. He and Fili had been appointed as your unofficial bodyguards, as well as your teachers and they were taking the job very seriously.
They took you out hunting with them, and Kili thought it would be the perfect time for your first archery lesson.
“So what do you remember of your archery lessons in your realm, Book Keeper?”
“Not a lot.” You chuckled. “I remember how to notch an arrow, I think. It was hard to pull the string back.”
He smirked, handing you the children’s bow and quiver full of rudimentary arrows. “It just takes practice is all. We’ll have to build up strength in your arms, work up to a full size bow.”
“You think I’ll get good enough for that?”
The prince winked. “I know you will.” He searched the trees and spotted a sturdy branch that would be within your reach so you could retrieve the arrow once you shot it into the bark. “Aim for that branch there, the one with the moss growing on it.”
“Alright.” You pulled an arrow from the quiver and notched it, slowly pulling back the string. You tried to account for distance, but when you released the arrow, it arched pathetically and skidded through the fallen leaves on the ground.
“You’re tense.” Kili noted, taking a step closer to you, his eyes the tiniest bit flirty. “Do I make you nervous?”
“A little.” You admitted, laughing. “I mean, all of you do, not just…” You paused. “Being here is a lot. I’ve looked up to you guys for a long time. I’ve wanted to come here for a long time and never thought I would ever get the chance to. I guess I just don’t want to let you down.”
“You couldn’t disappoint me even if you tried.” Kili said. “I know Uncle can be a bit…stern sometimes, but I don’t think it’s untrue to say we’ve all been fascinated by you. It’s obvious where you’re from is quite a bit different than here, but you haven’t complained once, as opposed to the hobbit, who complains on the hour.”
You laughed a bit at that. It was true, Bilbo had been rather fussy and timid thus far on the journey.
“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before, you know that?”
You smirked. “Really?”
“You’ve just got this…spark.” He shrugged, snapping a twig beneath his boot as he took another step closer to you. “Every time we turn a corner, it’s like your face just lights up with wonder. It’s like you’ve never seen a tree before.”
You burst into laughter. “We have trees in my realm, Kili.”
“Do you? I didn’t know.” He teased.
“Where I’m from, I have to travel quite a ways to see really beautiful places, and here, there’s a new one every few miles. I’m trying to soak it all in before I go back, I guess.”
He hummed, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, well, it can be dangerous sometimes, too.” He motioned to the bow in your hand. “Notch another arrow.”
You did as you were told and Kili stood behind you, examining your stance. You felt a large, rough, warm hand on your shoulder, guiding your elbow a bit lower. It was like your skin was electrified where he touched you, goosebumps pricking up on your arms, your heart racing at his proximity.
“Relax this hand.” He advised, his fingers curling around the hand on the bow. “Touch your thumb to your lip. And take a breath in.”
You inhaled.
“Release.”
You let go of the arrow and it shot right into the branch Kili had told you to aim for. “Woah!”
“There you go! See? You’re a natural!” He praised, that brilliant smile of his on his face. “You’ll be slaying beasts in no time.”
“You think so?”
He met your eyes, his smile softening into something more meaningful. “There’s not a single doubt in my mind.”
***
A few weeks had passed. You had managed to help the party avoid the conflict with the trolls, but had still wound up in Rivendell, in Elrond’s care. Thorin didn’t much care for elves, but he was managing to keep control of his temper.
Elrond had prepared a great feast for all of you, a celebration to welcome you to his land. And thus, you got to sleep in a proper bed for the first time in weeks. In your chambers, there had been a dress laid out for you, silky and orange, as well as an intricate elven circlet with a few gemstones on it.
You changed into the dress without help and headed down to the celebration, where the others were already seated at a table. Immediately, you felt fourteen pairs of eyes on you as you made your way to the only empty seat left, the one beside Kili. Huh. You wondered how that had happened.
“There she is!” Gandalf exclaimed excitedly, causing your already red cheeks to flush even redder. You didn’t like being the center of attention like this.
Gandalf, Elrond, and Thorin had a table to themselves, the rest of the party at a longer table.
“The Keeper of the Book, I presume.” Elrond said, tipping his head. “Pleasure to meet you. Gandalf has told me all about your journey from another realm to be here.”
“It’s an honor to meet you Lord Elrond.” You told him, heart racing as you met yet another hallmark character who had made a mark on your young adulthood. You curtsied. “I apologize if some of your customs escape me. I’m…not very familiar with them, admittedly.”
“That is quite alright.” He smiled. “I’m sure it has been quite the learning curve already.”
“I brought you a gift.” Gandalf confessed, presenting a glass bottle from beneath the table, a black cherry cream soda you were fond of back home.
You gasped, excited for even a taste of home after all of the time that had passed. You knew things had barely begun, though. It would be a long time before you would be able to go to a grocery store again. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much! I’ll cherish it.”
You walked to the seat that had been left for you and sat down.
“You look different. Did you do something with your hair?” Ori asked innocently.
“Yeah, I pulled a few strands in the front down.” You chuckled, twirling one around your finger. “I’m also wearing a dress instead of pants, so that might be it.”
“Dressed up for these elves, but not for your traveling companions?” Gloin teased and you chuckled, twisting off the metal bottle cap and taking a sip, relishing in the sweet taste.
“My apologies. I’ll be sure to get all dolled up for our next hike through the mud.” The dwarves all laughed. “It kind of reminds me of my prom dress, actually.” You noted, admiring the shimmering elven fabric.
“What’s a ‘prom?’” asked Fili.
“It’s a dance, a big formal event in my realm. The boys ask the girls to go with them as their date and it’s a big deal. There’s always drama about who’s asking who. It celebrates your coming of age, kind of, because it’s at the end of high school. Everyone dresses up really fancy and dances all night. It’s a fun time.”
“You went to this prom? Someone asked you?” Kili asked.
“Funny story, actually. Someone did ask me to prom. Serenaded me with this big dramatic song and everything; it was a little much if you ask me, but we were friends, so I was excited to go. I got my dress, got everything ready, and then a few weeks before the dance, he told me he didn’t want to go with me anymore and asked someone else to go with him instead.” You said, taking a long sip of your drink.
“How dare he disrespect you like that?” Kili shook his head. “One would be lucky to have the opportunity to take you to an event of that kind!”
“Yeah, I was kind of upset about it. My friends ended up taking me with them, but I still got left alone during the slow songs.” You shrugged. “It was a while ago, though. I don’t think about it a lot anymore.”
Kili huffed. “Good. He doesn’t deserve your attention.”
“Is that ale, lassie?” Dwalin asked, distracted by the bottle you’d been sipping from.
You laughed. “Oh, no. It’s soda. It’s like a sweet, sugary drink from home. This one is black cherry flavored.”
Kili hummed curiously and you turned your attention to him again.
“Do you want to try?”
He looked from the bottle to you and his eyes softened. “You’d share with me?”
“Yeah, of course.” You shrugged, sliding the bottle to him.
Kili took a tentative sip, smiling as soon as the sweet drink hit his tongue. “You’re right. It is quite sweet.”
“Do you like it?” You asked and he nodded.
“I do, but…you should enjoy it. I have a feeling it’ll be a good long while before you get another.” He slid the bottle back to you, his warm hand lingering on yours for a moment. You couldn’t fight the blush that overtook your cheeks, you only hoped it wasn’t too noticeable to the other dwarves.
After the feast, there were some other festivities. The elves started dancing and playing music, moving with grace. Most of the dwarves had had a few drinks too many by that point. You could tell Kili was a little drunk, too, and Dwalin had told you earlier that the youngest dwarf was a bit of a lightweight.
At the moment, he was across the room with Fili, drinking and laughing while you took in the festivities. It was nice to see them have fun together. You hoped you’d be able to ensure they would have fun like this for many, many years to come. It saddened you to think of the end of the journey. That was the whole point you were here, of course; everything would be more or less smooth for the dwarves and their wellbeing until that final battle. But one wrong move, one missed moment and it could all be for nothing.
The more you got to know the dwarven princes, and their uncle, for that matter, the more you knew it would devastate you if you failed.
“Are you alright, Book Keeper?” Balin, perhaps the only sober dwarf at the moment, asked, sitting beside you at the edge of the party. “You seem distracted.”
“I’m alright, yeah,” you nodded, taking a sip of blueberry-flavored mead. “Just got a lot on my mind is all.”
“About the journey? Or are you homesick?”
“Definitely not homesick.” You laughed. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but…I kind of feel like I was always supposed to be here. Born in the wrong realm or something.”
“You fit in well.” Balin agreed. “The company has taken to you fairly quickly as well. Especially, ah,” he got a mischievous glimmer in his eye, “a certain dwarf prince?”
You blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, it seems he has.”
“Can’t say I blame him. Beautiful woman from another realm comes here and saves us from trolls and who knows what else…” Balin chuckled.
The two of you looked across the room, where it looked like Fili was giving his brother one serious pep talk.
“Kili hasn’t had much luck in matters of love, I’m afraid.” He told you, his voice softer, as to not be overheard. “His looks are a bit unorthodox by Dwarven standards.”
“Really…” You murmured, shocked. “Well, by human standards—of my realm at least—he is…very handsome.”
“You think so?” Balin grinned.
“I have since the very beginning.” You told him. “He’s…” your voice got quiet. “He’s incredible.”
“Sorry to interrupt, my lady.” One of the elves came up to you, offering his arm. “Might I have this dance?”
When you looked up, Kili was about halfway across the dance floor, frozen on his way to you, staring at the elf who had offered you his arm.
“I’m flattered, really, I am.” You told the elf. “But, um, I’ve promised this dance to another.”
“I understand.” He bowed and made his leave.
Once he saw that the elf had left you, Kili’s eyebrows furrowed and he continued crossing the dance floor to you.
“You turned him away.” Kili stated, sounding confused. “Why?”
You shrugged. “I’ve had my eye on someone else all night.”
“Oh. I see.” Kili’s face fell and he started to turn, but you grabbed his wrist.
“You, Kili. I’ve been waiting to dance with you.” You chuckled.
Immediately, that handsome grin of his found his face and he took your hand, taking you out on the dance floor. His arm settled around your waist, pulling you close, while the other hand held yours. Despite the height difference, it worked.
“I haven’t found the time to tell you yet, but…” He paused, staring at you like you were made of starlight. “You look beautiful tonight, (Y/N).”
You smiled and your heart pounded. “Thank you, Kili.”
“Of course. I hope this dance can begin to make up for the ones you spent alone that night.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his large hand warm and gentle. “I wish I could have been there to make it right.”
“I wish you could have been there, too. You would have been an awesome date.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s not every night a girl gets to dance with a handsome prince.” The way you said it was kind of teasing, but you meant it. He really was handsome and he literally was a prince.
He chuckled, blushing at the sentiment. He was quiet for a while before he said, “It feels like you were meant to be here.”
“In Rivendell?”
“In Middle Earth.” Kili clarified. “With our company.”
“I was just talking to Balin about that, actually.”
Kili smiled kind of sadly before continuing. “You don’t think you’ll be able to stay, do you? When all of this is over?”
Your breath hitched and you met his eyes. “If I’m given the chance…I will. In a heartbeat. But I’m not sure if that’s how this works.”
“Okay.” Kili nodded, willing to accept that answer. “Well, for the record, I hope you do. Things would be boring without you around.”
“I hope so too.”
***
The days ran into one another, as did the weeks. You were accustomed to the road now. You spent most of your time riding with Kili, but every so often, you rode with some of the other Dwarves as well. Balin liked to trade stories with you, Dori and you would talk about what kinds of wine you preferred. They were all good company and they took care of you, looked after you.
Kili had been continuing his lessons in teaching you to shoot, and you’d made quite a bit of progress. Fili taught you to use a sword and how to properly put on armor. You had many long chats with Bilbo about the Shire and warned him to send him a message back home to ensure his family members didn’t sell his furniture while he was traveling back home.
You even got to know Thorin a bit, although he was still very guarded, especially to the two outsiders of the group. You knew eventually those walls would come down, but you also didn’t blame him for having them; he’d been through a lot.
It was night once again, and you were trying to sleep, but it was a particularly noisy night. The crickets were especially loud. Kili was taking the first watch with Fili, so, as he did whenever he was on watch, he put his extra blanket atop you to keep you warm.
“She’s so beautiful when she sleeps…” You heard Kili murmur to his brother, convinced you were out for the night.
“Have you told her yet?”
“That she’s beautiful? Yes, countless times, brother.” You could imagine the dwarf’s confident grin as he said it.
“Not that. Did you tell her that she’s…your One?”
Now that was news. You didn’t think Ones were a thing. Not as far as you knew. You were certain they were something cooked up by the fan community in your world, not something that was real.
You heard Kili sigh before replying, “I don’t even know how to begin to tell her that. Not when I don’t even know if she’ll still be here after we fight the dragon.”
“Then you should be making the most of the time you have with her while she’s here!” Fili whispered passionately. “Not every dwarf is so lucky, you know.”
“I know that.” Kili was quiet for a long moment before relenting, “I’ll tell her. As soon as I can figure out how.”
“Good.” Fili said, sounding proud of his efforts. “It seems she really cares for you, brother.”
And though you were tempted to say something, to break the silence and tell him then and there, you didn’t want the brothers to think you’d been eavesdropping. There would be a better time to tell him; you only hoped it would come sooner rather than later.
***
With your new revelation, every day became a new adventure, a waiting game in which you would see whether or not Kili would confess to you the way he felt for you. Looking back on all of the evidence, it seemed especially obvious. Right from the very beginning, he’d been enamored by you and the world you came from. Now you knew why.
This was, of course, alongside the usual adventure of running from monsters, in this case, a group of goblins. Although you knew it was important for Bilbo to get the ring, and it therefore needed to happen, you still weren’t particularly looking forward to it. The trolls, you had been able to evade with the logic that the elves in Rivendell would give you whatever weapons the dwarves would have recovered from the Troll cave anyway, which they had.
You’d all slept in a cave to escape the storm raging outside, bedrolls close together. Kili slept facing you. Every once in a while, you’d open your eyes and look at him, to make sure he was still there. One of those times, he was looking at you, too.
“Can’t sleep?” He whispered, his voice deep with exhaustion.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this cave…” You admitted, something sinking in the pit of your stomach. You felt bad for not telling them, but it had to happen and you knew if Thorin had known, you’d all have set up camp somewhere else.
“Mmm.” Kili hummed, nodding. He scooted his bedroll a bit closer to yours and your heart leapt in your chest. Maybe this would be the moment he’d tell you, finally, the thing you knew he’d been holding in for so long. “Well don’t worry your pretty head too much, Book Keeper. Whatever happens, you’ve got thirteen fiercely loyal dwarves here who will do anything to protect you.”
You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath.
“You never did tell me what that ring means.” Kili said, drawing attention to the claddagh ring, still wrapped around your finger. “That’s a beautiful emerald. Did someone from home give it to you?”
“It’s a claddagh ring. I don’t have one back home, but it just kind of…appeared on me when I got here.” You admitted. “I’ve always been fascinated by them. When you wear it like this, on the right hand with the point facing outwards, it means you’re looking for love, but you haven’t found it yet.”
He was quiet for a moment, nodding. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing yours, warm and calloused. They were warrior’s hands, and seeing his with your own just felt right. The contrast between you was perfect. “What would happen if you…found love?”
“Then you flip it over so the heart is upright.” You told him. “And if you get engaged, it moves to the other hand.”
“I quite like that.”
You chuckled softly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiled.
A cold wind blew into the cave and you shivered, pulling your blankets closer.
“Come here.” Kili’s hand wandered from yours and instead pulled you closer to him.
You surrendered to his warmth, to his scent of leather and campfire and pine. His hand cradled your head, combing through your hair with gentle fingers. It did calm you down enough to finally get some decent sleep for the night.
But just before you drifted off into slumber, you heard Kili whisper, “Sleep, Amrâlimê.”
And you did get a few hours of quiet peace before the floor of the cave opened up beneath you.
Thus began your long descent into the goblins’ cave. The company screamed all the way down until you were met by hundreds of terrifying goblins, shuffling you all to the feet of their king, a massive, horrifying thing who looked at you all like you were their next meal.
“What do we have here? Thieves? Spies? Assassins?” The king said. “Why are you here dwarves?” His eyes fell on you. “And an…elf?”
“Close enough.” You muttered, heart absolutely pounding in your chest. You were pretty sure you were about to pass out from the shock of it all.
“Bring the tall one to me. And search them all. Every crevice.” The king ordered, and one of his henchman kicked you in the back of the knees, forcing you to the ground with a pained yelp, dragging you over to their king, who hoisted you off of the ground by your hair.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Kili yelled, struggling against the goblins that were holding him, but it didn’t seem to stop the other goblins from beginning to search you. “DON’T TOUCH HER! LET HER GO NOW!”
“Ohhhh, the youngest dwarf has a soft spot, does he?” The goblin king laughed, holding you in front of his face to get a closer look. “I can’t begin to see why.”
“Let me go, you big ugly bitch!” You squirmed, kicking the goblin king straight in the eye, causing him to flinch and drop you onto the ground, hard. You groaned and tried to get your bearings. Luckily, you were close enough to the dwarves that they were able to tug you back behind them. Gloin grabbed your leg and dragged you into the middle of the company again while Bifur and Bofur helped you to your feet. Your head hurt from the hair pulling.
“OW! She’s a feisty one.” The goblin king rubbed his eye and pointed at you with a hideous finger. “Fetch the torture devices. We’ll start with her.”
“Over my dead body you will.” Kili readied himself, eyes dark and voice as intense as rumbling thunder.
The other dwarves all took up a position of attack to protect you. Even though their weapons had been taken, they were still willing to fight for you.
But they didn’t get the chance to. At precisely the moment you needed him, Gandalf busted through the wall of the cave, stunning the goblins for a few moments with blinding light and giving the dwarves the chance to pick up their weapons.
The battle broke out. You did your best with the weapon Dwalin hastily shoved into your hand, but for the most part, you just followed the rest of the dwarves, keeping an eye on Kili and dodging the goblins that came at you. He fought harder than you had ever seen him, an intense fire burning in him. It was, perhaps, the scariest and most exhilarating experience of your entire life.
One of the goblins’ claws scratched your arm and you winced, swinging your sword at him and taking him out. The group reconvened on a bridge only for it to collapse beneath you, sending all of you plummeting, plummeting, plummeting down to the bottom of the cave. You laid there on your back, pretty sure this was what a cracked rib felt like. You sputtered and tried to lift your head from the hard surface beneath you.
“(Y/N)?” You heard Kili’s voice as the others began to get their bearings. He looked through the group, becoming more panicked by the second. “(Y/N)?!”
“I’m here.” You groaned weakly, raising your hand so he could find you. “I’m okay.”
“Thank Mahal.” He let out a relieved sigh walking to you and helping you to your feet. “A-are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” You nodded, out of breath with tears in your eyes. Your knees wobbled, but he held you upright, supporting your weight. Then your eyes widened, remembering. You looked up and sure enough, more goblins were climbing down towards you. “We have to go.”
“Towards the daylight!” Gandalf insisted, leading the charge out of the cave and into the light of the nearly setting sun.
Once you all were finally able to stop, you collapsed to your knees, catching your breath. Kili knelt beside you, looking you over.
“I’m okay.” You told him. “I’m nauseous and definitely bruised a bit, but I’m okay. Are you?”
He reached up and brushed the hair out of your face, his hand pulling your face down towards him. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting out a long, shaking sigh. “I’m okay now.”
“Gandalf, um…” You reached into your pack and pulled out the book, using your bookmark to open to the chapter you’d all arrived at, still quite out of breath from the whole ordeal, but still focused on the adventure and the group’s safety. “You might want to call the Eagles now.”
“A very good call, Book Keeper.” Gandalf nodded, counting the dwarves before getting a moth’s attention.
You looked around the group and noticed one was missing. Bilbo. “Guys, where’s Bilbo?”
“I think he slipped away before the goblins grabbed us.” Nori said while the others started frantically looking around for him.
“I knew it. I knew he’d run right back home at the nearest opportunity.” Thorin said, shaking his head. “We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”
“No. He isn’t.” Bilbo walked out from behind a tree, appearing seemingly from nowhere. “I fell into a cavern. It was difficult to find a way out. I’m sorry.”
Thorin hesitated for a moment before looking at Bilbo. “My apologies. I just thought—”
“I know what you thought. I’m…not quite acclimated to this lifestyle. I miss my books and my reading chair and my hobbit hole. That’s my home. That’s why I’m here. Because you don’t have one; it was taken from you. And if I can…I want to help you take it back.”
The company shared a long, warm moment in the sun, which was interrupted by the sound of the wargs on the horizon.
You groaned. “Great. Right on schedule.”
“You knew—” Fili realized.
“Yep.” You nodded, exhaling a breath. Kili pulled you to your feet. “I know a lot I’m not supposed to.”
“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin started, his voice wary of the oncoming danger.
“And into the fire.” Gandalf motioned forward. “Run!”
So, once again, you were on the move, running to the edge of the cliff, away from the angry, snarling beasts on your trail. The group climbed up pine trees and just before the wargs arrived at the base of the tree, so did the Eagles.
“A very good call indeed, Book Keeper.” Thorin praised.
You chuckled. “Thought the group might prefer to not be torn apart by giant wolves.”
You got onto the back of one of the eagles, followed quickly by Fili and Kili, whose arm fastened around you, holding you in place. You looked at him as soon as he touched you, not quite surprised it was him. It always seemed to be him.
“Breathe, Amrâlimê.” He spoke softly, the word cradled so gently on his tongue. “You can breathe now. I won’t let you fall.”
“Okay.” You nodded, adjusting to a slightly more stable position on the eagle, your arm wrapping around his back for extra support. You took in the sights of Middle Earth. It was absolutely gorgeous from this high up, especially now that you were up and out of harm’s way.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
You nodded and looked at him, admiring the way the sunset framed his features. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes for a long moment, repeating his sentiment from earlier. “I’m okay now.”
“Good.”
It was quiet for a long moment before you asked quietly. “What does that word mean?”
“Oh…it’s not in your fancy book?” He teased, a cheeky smirk gracing his handsome face.
“It’s not.” You confirmed.
His eyes softened, the wind blowing through his silky dark hair. “I think you know what it means.”
You tilted your head, eyes exploring his own. “I think I do too…”
***
A few hours later, the company arrived at Beorn’s house, tucked into the woods. Gandalf went with Bilbo first, instructing the rest of you to come in small groups spaced about five minutes apart, as to not overwhelm the skin-changer with guests all at once.
Finally, you rolled up your sleeve to look at the cut on your arm. It didn’t look deep, but it did look dirty. You didn’t even want to know where that goblin’s claws had been. If you weren’t careful, you’d get an infection.
“Let me see it, girl.” Balin said, motioning you over. You walked to him and sat on a large rock, letting him look over the wound. “He got you good, didn’t he?”
“Looks like it, yeah. It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore.”
“You’re hurt?” Kili asked from somewhere behind you.
“She’s alright, Kili.” Balin assured the prince, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “We’ll get her cleaned up, lad.”
Fili pulled Kili off to the side while Balin and Oin tended to your arm, putting a disinfectant that stung pretty bad on it before wrapping it in gauze.
“Thank you.” You told them sincerely.
“And thank you. I have a feeling our injuries would have been a lot worse had you not told Gandalf to call the Eagles when he did.”
“Yeah, I figured the rest of the journey would probably be a bit easier if I didn’t get a leg ripped off by a giant wolf.” You chuckled, shrugging.
“How are things with Kili?” Balin asked, his voice incredibly quiet.
You glanced over to where Kili and Fili were standing, talking very passionately about something. They were definitely out of earshot, though.
“Can you keep a secret?” You asked him, heart racing.
Balin nodded, his eyes kind. “Of course, dear.”
You took a breath and let the words fall out of your mouth all at once. “I think I’m falling in love with him.”
Bofur perked up when he heard this, turning around with a huge grin on his face. “I knew it! I heard you two last night having a little chat.”
“I forgot you were on watch.” You chuckled, cheeks burning. “I…I don’t know. I think he feels the same, but—”
“He feels the same.” Balin took your hand in both of his. “I’ve known that lad for his entire life and I’ve never seen him so enamored with anyone before.”
Bofur agreed. “Seems he had a rather rude awakening when the goblins almost had their way with you.”
“Yeah…” You thought back on that moment. You’d never seen him yell like that before, never so angry, and all because you were in danger.
“We already consider you one of us, lassie. Not just anyone would be brave enough to kick a goblin king in the eye.” Dwalin said, coming from behind you and putting a strong hand on your shoulder. “And if you feel strongly for him, you should ask him to court.”
Your eyes widened. Ah yes, the ever-elusive dwarven courting customs. “How do I do that? No one’s ever explained it to me.”
The other dwarves chuckled.
“That explains a lot.” Bofur smirked. “Tell you what, we’ll—”
“(Y/N), Fili and I are leaving.” Kili told you, motioning in the direction of Beorn’s house. “Would you like to come with us or wait for the next group?”
You looked at Balin, who nodded, encouraging you to go.
“Go with the lads. We’ll speak yet.” He promised.
You walked with Kili, glancing back at the three of the dwarves who now knew exactly how you felt about their prince. You only hoped it wouldn’t spread through the rest of the group like wildfire.
***
When the next morning came, Beorn, who was a spectacle in and of himself, served a hearty breakfast for you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves. It was a beautiful morning, fog lingering in the trees, sunlight streaming through it.
For the first time in a long time, you felt utterly safe. You knew nothing would happen while you were at Beorn’s house. In Mirkwood shortly after…that was a different story altogether. But for the day, you were safe from goblins and wargs and whatever else was lurking out in the distance.
Part of you wondered if Bilbo had gotten the ring, if it had been worth not warning the others of the perils of that specific cave, but you knew you couldn’t ask him. Not now at least.
You sipped a mug of warm tea Gandalf had made for you, its steam gently waking you up. The mug was very large, as was everything in Beorn’s house, which seemed to make the dwarves look impossibly small, and, you hated to admit it, very cute.
“You sleep okay?” Kili asked, mouth half-full of scrambled eggs.
You nodded. “I slept fine. Did have some weird dreams, though.”
“About what?” Fili asked, perking up.
“I was at a school for wizards in this massive castle and the stairs were moving and I couldn’t get to class.” You told them, chuckling. Maybe Hogwarts was real too, somewhere. After all, Middle Earth was.
“We almost got killed by goblins and you’re having nightmares about school?” Bofur asked, incredulous.
“She’s taking this Book Keeper thing to new heights.” Ori added, laughing.
“I’ve been out of school for almost a whole year now and I’m still having nightmares about it.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I really don’t think they’ll ever stop.”
“How long are humans from your realm in school?” Dori asked.
“We start school around age five, sometimes sooner. We graduate high school at eighteen, and then if we choose to go to college after, most graduate around twenty-two or twenty-three.” You told them, causing Kili to promptly choke on his drink. “Are you okay?”
“How old did you say you were?” Fili checked again, his eyes wide.
Dwalin slapped Kili’s back until he regained his composure.
Thinking about it further, you weren’t sure age had ever come up with the dwarves. “I’m twenty-three. Why?”
They all shared looks between each other, some laughing softly, others looking genuinely shocked.
“Guys, are you okay? How old are you?” You asked, heart racing. “Dwalin, how old are you?”
“I’m a hundred and sixty-nine years, lassie.” He said.
“Oh my god.” You muttered softly, a hand on your mouth. “Seriously? The whole time?”
“He’s being genuine, Book Keeper. Dwarf aging is quite different than that of men.” Balin told you, trying to be gentle.
“I’m only eighty-two if that makes you feel better.” Fili offered, his eyes sincere.
You stared at him. “It does not.”
“And on that happy note, I believe I’ll borrow the Burglar and the Book Keeper for a moment.” Gandalf said, a mischievous smile on his face as he stood from the head of the table.
“Perfect timing.” You said, grabbing your mug and following after him. Bilbo walked beside you, so you looked down and asked. “How old are you?”
“I’m fifty-one.” Bilbo replied.
“See, that seems more reasonable.” You laughed, still in disbelief. “A hundred and sixty-nine…”
Gandalf led the two of you to Beorn’s gardens, which were quite lush and beautiful, filled with all manner of plants. A few chickens wandered the property and wildflowers grew along his cobblestone fence.
Bilbo bent down and picked an acorn off of the ground, tucking it into his pocket. You grinned. Cute.
“I’m merely here to check your progress. How is everything going?”
“Well, I’d say.” Bilbo said, sounding a bit unsure. He looked up at you for insight.
“We’re looking good on my end.” You nodded. “These next few days are going to be rough, though.”
“Undoubtedly.” Gandalf nodded. “The two of you should…formulate a plan together before leaving for Mirkwood. I’m sure some teamwork could help smooth things over.”
“I think so too.” You nodded.
“Excellent. Discuss. I will see you in Erebor.”
“Where are you going?” Bilbo asked.
“I have some unavoidable business to attend to, I’m afraid. But all of you are in good hands.” Gandalf assured him, nodding before walking back into the house to say goodbye to the other dwarves.
As soon as you and Bilbo were alone, you asked him, “Did you get it?”
He looked puzzled. “Did I get what?”
You wiggled your ring finger, holding up your ring.
He thought for a moment and then nodded, confirming. “I did, yes. Was I supposed to?”
“Yes. Good.” You exhaled a sigh of relief. “Don’t tell the others. But…you’ll need to use it on occasion. As you see appropriate. I don’t want to make you overthink it.”
“Good. Alright.” Bilbo nodded, considering. “What was this working together Gandalf was talking about?”
***
When night fell, some of the dwarves started a fire. Balin and Bofur pulled you aside. Kili and Fili were off scouting the edge of the property to make sure nothing was coming for the group, giving you the perfect opportunity for a lesson.
“What do you know of dwarvish courting, Book Keeper?” Bofur asked. “Anything?”
“Admittedly, not a lot. I know there’s braiding involved, but that’s about it.”
“That’s a good start, lass.” Balin smiled. “So, when a courtship begins, generally, the dwarrowdam, or, the woman, in this case, will ask the dwarf she fancies if she can braid his hair.”
“They make a courting bead to present to them, to braid into the hair. Something meaningful.” Bofur added.
“Okay.” You nodded, taking in the information.
“If he feels the same way, usually he’ll already have made a courting bead and will present it to her in return. If he doesn’t have it ready quite yet, he’ll present it to her as soon as it is.” Balin explained. “But the woman is always the one to initiate, unless, of course, it’s two men, in which case the oldest of the two will begin the courting.”
“And then they’ll go off somewhere private and braid the beads into each other’s hair. It’s quite romantic.” Bofur smiled.
You stared at the ring around your finger, the claddagh ring you’d carried with you the entire journey, the one Kili seemed so fascinated by. You thought it would look rather beautiful braided into Kili’s dark hair. “Would…um…” You slipped it off of your finger and handed it to Bofur. “Would this work? As a courting bead? I’d have to resize it of course, but…”
He smiled knowingly. “This is the special ring you explained to him in the cave?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“I think that would be perfect, dear.” Balin nodded. “We can teach you how to make the bead once we get to Erebor.”
“Okay, perfect. It won’t be long now.” You told them. “This next leg of the journey is going to be rough, as a heads-up.”
“That’s what I feared.” The eldest dwarf nodded.
Bofur handed you back the ring and you put it on again. “We’re in good hands, though.”
You nodded, serious. “I’ll do my best.”
***
The next day, you all stood at the gates of Mirkwood and a sinking feeling settled deep in the pit of your stomach. You did not like this. Not one bit.
“Are you alright?” Kili asked, his hand on your arm. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I know more than I’m supposed to again.” You told him, your voice soft, scared.
He looked up at you, taking a step closer. “Anything you can tell me?”
“Not at the moment, no.” You shook your head. You turned towards him, suddenly more serious and remembering something from the Hobbit movies you’d seen long ago. Up until this point, everything had been by the book as far as you knew. But in the case that something leaked over… “So, if, um…theoretically of course, if there’s a bunch of orcs shooting at us at some point on our way out of Mirkwood, don’t take any chances that would let you get shot in the leg with a poisonous arrow, okay?”
Kili’s eyes widened. “What? I’m—”
“It probably won’t happen. Most likely. But there’s one version of the story where it does and I just…I don’t know what I’d do if you—”
“I won’t.” Kili grabbed your arms with his large hands, stopping your rambling. “I promise you I won’t take any chances that would let that happen.”
You nodded, exhaling a sigh. “Okay. Good.”
“Does anything like that happen to me?” Fili asked, scared suddenly.
“No.” You assured him. “I’d tell you if it would. I’m not letting any of you die.”
You all set out through the gates, doing your best to stick to the paths. Things got very disorienting very quickly, however.
The group began to wander, confused, forgetting things and losing track of time. All hints of what direction you were going were gone, so you followed whichever dwarf happened to be in front of you at any given moment.
After a short time, you began to question everything. It was hard to tell how much time passed. You all wandered, going in circles, the dwarves bickering between themselves about which way was which. You felt utterly dizzy, confused and unable to ground yourself in the moment.
“(Y/N), are you in your right mind right now?” Bilbo asked you, grabbing your attention.
“Not particularly.” You admitted, shaking your head. “Do what you have to do. I’ll see you on the other side. Stick to the plan.”
“Plan, what plan?” Ori asked.
“There’s a plan?”
“What’s a plan?”
They went around and around while Bilbo climbed up into the trees to get a bearing on where you were. Most of them didn’t even realize he had left. And the next thing you knew in your bleary state, there were gigantic spiders descending upon all of you.
***
When you came to, Bilbo had cut you and the others free from where you’d been suspended up in the trees, the webs encasing you sticky and disgusting. You used your dagger to slice your way out of them and get to your feet, taking a head count of everyone that was present. All of the dwarves accounted for.
There were hordes of spiders, giant and covered in fur. You fought your way through a few, counting dwarves every second.
When you spotted Kili, however, he was pinned beneath a giant, shrieking spider. You drew an arrow and shot it quickly, putting to use the archery skills that very dwarf had spent hours teaching you. The spider slumped over top of him and Kili kicked it off of himself, looking to see who’d shot it and unsurprised to find that it was you.
He hurried over, a proud glimmer in his eye. “I told you we’d make an archer of you.”
“And it seems you were right.” You laughed, you eye tracking movement in your peripheral. There were more spiders, yes, but there were also elves, plenty of them, and they were coming in hot.
You looked around for Bilbo, but didn’t find him.
“What’s wrong?” Kili asked.
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.” He answered without hesitation.
“I have to go. We have a plan.” You leaned in and kissed Kili’s cheek, causing him to look up at you, dumbstruck.
A grin slowly spread across his face, processing the first kiss between the two of you. “Be safe.”
“I’ll find you soon.” You promised and took off into the trees, just in time to evade the elves who were apprehending the rest of the dwarves.
From your place up on a branch, you kept an eye on Kili as they hauled him and the rest of the company away, and you caught sight of Bilbo in another. He nodded at you and you returned the signal, waiting for the elves to all leave before meeting him down on the forest floor.
“I’ll go in with you and steal one of their uniforms, change, and then linger outside their cells until you get to us. The guards will be drunk tonight because of the festival. They should be drowsy enough that you can get the keys without too much trouble. On your way up to the rest of us, split the keys in half and I’ll unlock half of the doors to get them out faster.”
“Smart thinking.” Bilbo agreed.
“We’ll have to give them some time to get inside and out of our way before we can head inside. In the book, they’re held here for a few days. I think we can get them out in one.”
“Ambitious,” he said, thinking over the plans. “Ah, right. Well, if you don’t mind me asking since we have some time, are you and Kili…?”
“Seems to be the question on everyone’s minds.” You laughed. “Um. No, not yet. Not officially anyway. Balin and Bofur gave me a lesson on dwarvish courting rituals, though, so I kind of know what I’m doing now.”
He grinned. “Moving on up in the world, eh?”
“Something like that.” You shrugged, sitting for a moment and resting your cheek against your knee. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before, Bilbo. I genuinely don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”
“That’s how you know it’s real, I think. That fear might protect you.” Bilbo said, wise from the journey. “Might protect him, too.”
“I can only hope so.”
***
Breaking into the elves’ fortress in Mirkwood was easier with a hobbit as a companion, you decided. Bilbo was good at going unnoticed, but especially so when he could sneak into the armory invisibly and retrieve Silvan elf armor for you. You slipped into it quickly, entrusting your bag of things to Bilbo for the moment until you’d be reunited with him.
Then, you went up to the cells where they were holding the dwarves, careful to calm your pace. For the first time in your journey, your pointed ears came in handy. You were able to sneak past any elf you passed without question. They thought you were one of them.
“You there, will you not join the festivities?” An elf asked you. Upon closer inspection, this was Legolas, his blond hair and Orlando Bloom complexion unmistakable. Oh shit.
You did a double-take. “Oh, Prince Legolas. I was going to see the prisoners before joining.” You smirked. “Not every day we have thirteen dwarves in our custody. I’m rather curious.”
“An unusual day indeed. I’ll admit, they are rather…interesting creatures.” He agreed, laughing. “I’ll save you a dance, then.”
“I’d be honored, my prince.” You curtsied, holding your posture carefully before walking past him without any further questioning. You chuckled. Little did he know the only prince that had your attention was a dwarven one.
You reached the hall where the cells were not long after that, looking into the doors and counting. Ori, Dori, Nori, check. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, check. Balin and Dwalin and Oin and Gloin, check, and finally, Thorin, Fili, and Kili.
Fili was the first to notice you. He stood there for a long moment, staring at you, his eyebrows furrowed. It couldn’t be you, could it? Not dressed like that, surely. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him, despite the fact that they’d only been there for a few hours.
“(Y/N)?” Fili asked, his voice hushed. “Is that you?”
You turned to face him, keeping the stiff elven posture you’d adopted to fit in. You smirked. “I put on some elf armor and suddenly you don’t recognize me, Fee? I’m offended.”
At the sound of your voice, Kili rushed to the bars of his cell. “Amrâlimê!”
You walked to his cell and rested your hands on his. “I told you I’d find you.”
“Where’s Bilbo?” Thorin asked from the next cell over.
“Grabbing the keys.” You told him. “And then we’re busting out of this place.”
“Were you spotted?” Nori wondered.
“Walked right past every elf I saw. They think I’m one of them.” You shrugged, tucking your hair behind one of your pointed ears. “Even managed to trick their prince. He’s up at the festival saving me a dance as we speak.”
You didn’t miss the tiny jealous grunt that left Kili’s throat at the mention of another prince, but you didn’t address it either.
Dwalin let out a proud, bellowing laugh. “Well done, lassie!”
You shrugged. “These ears of mine finally came in handy for something.”
“I happen to think they suit you.” Kili said, looking up at you. He looked so impossibly small in his cage.
Your heart ached. You couldn’t wait to get him out of there. “Is that so?”
“I happen to think most things suit you, actually.” He amended, a flirty grin on his face.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Miss Elf Guard.” Bilbo teased, tossing you a set of keys. “We have some dwarves to free.”
You quickly found the key to Kili’s door and unlocked it, followed immediately by the rest of the dwarves on your side of the hallway. The two of you led the others all the way down to the cellar, to the barrels Bilbo had located. You had almost forgotten this part of the adventure. And if it wasn’t too deadly and terrifying, it might actually be pretty fun.
“Are you sure about this, lad?” One of the dwarves protested as they started climbing inside the barrels.
“Trust me.” Bilbo said, looking to you for support. “Trust us.”
“This is one of the best parts in the book.” You told them. “It’ll all work out. I promise. It might even be fun.”
“There might be room for two in this one,” Kili told you, scouting the biggest barrel.
“I don’t know if it could support both of our weight.” You reasoned, thinking quickly. “And we have to get going so the Elves don’t stop us.”
You climbed into the big barrel, preparing yourself for the plummet downwards.
Kili nodded and climbed into the barrel beside yours, his hand reaching out and touching yours.
“Hold your breath.” Bilbo warned, pulling the lever and sending the barrels rolling down into the water tunnels beneath the castle. He took your tip about the floor and came down moments later, gripping the rope on Thorin’s barrel.
“Well done, you two.” Thorin praised. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“He would have figured it out without me, just for the record.” You told him. “Maybe just a little slower.”
You all started paddling, getting out of the elven tunnels a few minutes later, under cover of night. The stars were quite beautiful. You couldn’t help but stare at them, trying to recognize constellations in the still-unfamiliar sky.
“No sign of orcs.” Kili pointed out. “Nor poisoned arrows.”
“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way.” You chuckled, paddling beside him. Bilbo was still swimming alongside one of the other barrels. “Bilbo, there’s room in mine.”
“You don’t think I’ll sink you?”
“You’re lighter than I am.” You pointed out.
He couldn’t argue with that logic. Fili and Kili both helped hoist Bilbo into your barrel for the rest of the fairly smooth ride. There were a few dips and small waterfalls every so often, but the current wasn’t too harsh.
“Is it like this in the book?” Gloin asked and you nodded.
“Yeah. In fact, in the book, there are lids on the barrels. But it’s, uh, harder to steer that way.”
“I was going to put lids on them?” Bilbo asked, incredulous. “Thank you for steering me away from that option, Book Keeper.”
“That’s my job.” You chuckled, making the most of the ride until, eventually, it ended and the group pulled their barrels onto the shore.
“How’s our progress?” Thorin checked.
“We’re ahead of schedule. Our ride into Laketown won’t be here until tomorrow morning or afternoon.” You told him. “We were actually supposed to be in that elven prison for a few more days, so…we’ve got some time to get our bearings. And we won’t have to cut it so close hiking up to Erebor.”
The king grinned. “Excellent. Great work.” He turned to the rest of the company. “Set up camp for the night. Eat some food. Tomorrow, we journey to Laketown.”
You helped the others unpack some of the belongings, drying out things that had gotten wet. You scrunched your hair, draining it of excess water, and set out a bedroll for whenever you settled down. It was dark, but you couldn’t exactly tell how late it was.
Some of the others started a fire to dry themselves and cook dinner, which was whatever fish had slipped into their barrels on the way there. You found a private spot and changed out of the elven armor into your sleeping attire before returning to the group.
Kili was sitting near the fire, his bedroll now set out beside yours, and two plates of food in his lap. You sat beside him and he handed the extra plate to you, which you were grateful for. It had been a long few days, or however long had passed while you were trapped in those wretched spider-infested forests, and you were hungry.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” He nodded. The two of you were quiet for a long time before he finally asked a question you could tell had been eating at him for a bit. “What would have happened if…theoretically, I had been shot with that poisonous orc arrow?”
“Hard to say. In the version of the story where that happened…you were pretty injured from it, got progressively sicker and sicker and then when the company left for Erebor, you had to stay behind.”
“Oh.” He looked at you, his eyes serious. “I would have died, wouldn’t I?”
“No.” You shook your head. Not at that moment, you thought darkly, keeping it to yourself. “Well…it’s difficult to say, because in that version, you caught the eye of a very beautiful elf warrior. She healed you before you died from the poison. And she’s not here, so I…I really don’t know what would have happened.”
“Well…” He processed the information for a moment before a soft, tender look overtook his face. “I did happen to catch the eye of another woman with elf-like ears this time around. I think I prefer this one, actually.”
“I can’t heal you if you get poisoned.” You reasoned, insecurity eating at you, despite the lack of competition. You hadn’t seen Tauriel in Mirkwood, which probably meant she didn’t exist. Probably. She wasn’t in the book, after all, but neither were a lot of the other details you’d lived through that Tolkien had seemed to skim over in his version.
He took your hand in both of his, calling your full attention to him. “Maybe not, but…you did prevent me from being poisoned at all, which, I would argue, is better.” One of his hands wandered up to your cheek and you caught his eyes lingering on your lips for a long moment before he said. “You gave me this earlier, and I’ve been meaning to give it back to you.”
You watched him, curious. “What?”
Kili moved closer and pressed a long, lingering kiss to your cheek, causing your face to flush with warmth. He whispered, his voice deep and gentle, “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”
***
The next day, just as you had predicted, Bard found your group on the banks of the river. He was defensive at first, but eventually granted the group travel into town in exchange for whatever gold you all could scrape together.
For the first part of the voyage, you were all able to wander about the ship. You pulled out your Polaroid, assessing the damages it had incurred thus far. Part of you expected it to be totally busted, its parts flooded in your ride down the river, but it was functional. Maybe Gandalf had enchanted it to be indestructible.
“Is it broken?” Bofur asked, curious.
“I don’t think so, actually. I definitely thought it would be after everything it’s been through.” You chuckled, holding it in position and snapping a picture of him. A few moments later, it spit the picture out the front. You handed it to him and he watched as it developed.
“Fascinating little thing.” Bofur noted, tilting his head.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” You agreed, tucking it back into your bag.
“Couldn’t happen but notice you and the young prince last night.” Bofur smirked, mischief in his smile. “We’re still on for your smithing lesson, then?”
“As soon as possible, yes.” You nodded. A nervous laugh wrenched its way out of your lips. “I don’t know why I’m so scared.”
“It’s a big moment. I don’t blame you for being a little nervous. But it’s very obvious to me and,” he laughed, “well, everyone else that the lad cares for you. And I, for one, happen to think you’d make a lovely addition to the family.”
“Thank you, Bofur.” You wrapped your arms around your bag, cradling it to you. “I think I needed to hear that.”
“Book Keeper, if I might have a word.” Thorin said, motioning you to the front of the ship.
You nodded and stood from your spot, walking up to meet him. You noticed Kili was sitting on a crate at the back of the boat, his legs dangling from it. He appeared to be working on something very small, but you couldn’t tell what it was from where you were.
“What’s on your mind, your highness?” You asked, standing beside him, staring out into the fog.
“I’ve heard murmurs of something within the company, I was hoping you would confirm or deny them.” Thorin started, looking amused. “I don’t think it should be news to you that my nephew cares for you, yes?”
“I care for him as well, Thorin.” You assured him.
“Mmm.” Thorin nodded. “I hoped as much. I just ask that…if you do not wish to court him, don’t string him along. The boy has had his heart broken too many times. This time, though, I feel he would never recover from it.”
“When we get to Erebor, Balin and Bofur are going to help me make a courting bead.” You told him. “I should have told you long before now, but I never found the time or opportunity.”
Thorin grinned. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the other resting on his belt. “That is most excellent news. Do you know how you’ll be making it, yet?”
“I don’t know the specifics. I’ve never smithed anything in my life.” You shook your head. “In my realm, smithing isn’t as prominent as it is here. But I was planning to use this.” You held up your hand, showing him the ring. “Balin and Bofur said it should be something sentimental. This ring is usually used to show relationship status in my realm.”
“I heard you discussing it with him the night of the goblins.” Thorin smiled softly. “I didn’t get very much sleep that night either. I think that would work quite well as a courting bead.” He met your eyes, his gaze sincere. This was perhaps the first time you’d connected with the king on a personal level on the entire journey, but you were glad you were finally getting the opportunity. “After everything you’ve done for us, I would be honored to have you as my niece.”
Your breath got caught in your throat, tears pricking your eyes. “You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that.”
“We’re approaching the gates!” Bard warned. “Get back in the barrels.”
With some protest, the dwarves got back into the barrels they’d come there in. You started to climb into the barrel beside Thorin’s, but Bard stopped you.
“You won’t need to. Just cover those ears of yours.” He told you.
You nodded, using your hair to cover their extended points, looking to Bifur to ask if they were covered. He gave you a thumbs-up before ducking back into his barrel. You inhaled nervously and settled yourself as casually as you could on a crate in the corner of the boat.
It was then that several pounds of fish were dumped on top of the dwarves. You cringed for their sake. You had a feeling this was going to be a very smelly evening indeed. You heard a few quiet groans from them, but otherwise, they remained silent, hoping not to blow their cover.
Next, Bard took the ship to the entrance of town, where he was stopped by the gate keeper. He initially was approved to enter until the disgusting little weasel Alfrid decided to pay a visit.
“Oi! Who’s the girl?” He asked, his unibrow scrunching as he looked you up and down. God, he was even more disgusting in person somehow. You were hoping he wouldn’t be real, but it seemed Tolkien had skimmed over him in the book as well. You couldn’t say you blamed him.
“She’s paid her passage. Therefore, she’s entering town.”
“Now, now, now, no one gets into my town without a more…thorough investigation, let’s say.” Alfrid rubbed his sleazy little hands together and you did your best not to gag at the mere thought of him touching you.
“You will not put your hands on her.” Bard said, defending you. “If you so much as breathe on her, I’ll see to it that the whole town knows.”
Alfrid seemed to contemplate this before relenting. “Fine, but if she steps even a toe out of line, she’ll be sleeping in the dungeons.”
“And she won’t.” Bard assured him, seeming annoyed. Not long after, the boat continued, through the narrow waterways to an alley between some buildings. Bard started dumping barrels full of fish-covered dwarves. He instructed them on how to swim under his house and up through the toilet.
“Count yer blessings, lass.” Dwalin muttered before jumping in.
“Oh believe me, I am.” You grimaced at the strong fishy smell wafting from your companions. Once they were all out of the boat, you went with Bard through the front door of his house, met immediately by his daughters and his son.
“Da, who is this?”
“A traveler.” Bard replied. “Bain, get them in.”
Bard’s son walked down the stairs and signaled the Dwarves to start coming into the house.
“If you speak a word of this to anyone, I’ll rip your arms off,” Dwalin threatened, coming out of the murky waters first.
“Why are there dwarves coming out of the toilet?” Bard’s oldest daughter wondered.
“Will they bring us luck?” The youngest asked.
“I can assure you, they are very lucky.” You told her. “They’ve brought me nothing but luck, in fact.”
Kili walked up to you, sopping wet, his clothes and hair thoroughly soaked. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his pitiful state, handing him a towel. He buried his face in it before using it to scrunch his wet hair.
“Not feeling so lucky at the moment, however.” Kili muttered. He handed the towel back to you and started ringing out his shirt, water splattering on the floor. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”
“Who?”
“That…sleazy gate keeper man.” Kili looked pissed.
“Alfrid.” Bard’s eldest daughter said, rolling her eyes. “He disgusts me.”
“Yeah, same.” You agreed with her and looked down to Kili, who wouldn’t make eye contact with you, instead, his eyes were fixed on his dark blue shirt, ringing excess water out of it. “He didn’t touch me. He didn’t even come near me.”
“Good.” He nodded, his eyes still serious.
“I’m pretty sure if he’d have breathed on me I would have puked on the spot.” You joked, which did get him to smile again.
“Is he that hideous?” The dwarven prince finally dared to look up at you, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.
“Literally the ugliest person I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
“Truly gruesome.” Bard’s daughter agreed, cringing. She looked at you and offered her hand. “I’m Sigrid, by the way.”
“(Y/N),” you introduced. “This is Kili.”
The dwarf in question did a little bow. “At your service.”
Bard came into the room, carrying a variety of tools and makeshift weapons. He set them on the table all at once.
“Oh no, these will not do at all.” The dwarves started going through them harshly.
“We need iron-forged weapons! Not fishing supplies.” Gloin shook his head.
“All of the weapons in town are held under lock and key in the armory.” Bard told them. “These are the best I can do.”
“Book Keeper?” Balin looked to you for advice.
“Um, let me check.” You reached into your bag and pulled out the thin paperback book you’d been referencing the entire time. You used the table of contents to flip to the chapter about Laketown. “Okay, so um, under cover of night, you sneak into the armory to take the weapons, you get caught, but when you tell the Master and the rest of the town about the quest, they celebrate and give you weapons and a feast and a place to stay.”
“What is that book?” Bard asked. “Is she a Seer?”
“Not quite. Just a…reader, I suppose.” You shrugged. “I’m from a place where all of this is a story.”
“A feast sounds quite nice…” Fili raised an eyebrow. Bombur nodded in fierce agreement.
“Then we do what the Book Keeper says.” Thorin nodded at you, grateful for your guidance. “We leave at nightfall. Ready yourselves in the meantime.”
***
The dwarves set out to retrieve the weapons sometime after dark. You stayed at Bard’s house with his kids, waiting nervously to hear the commotion in the middle of town begin. Bard, obviously, had quite a few questions for you.
“You’ve been traveling with them? For how long?”
“Quite a while. Almost half a year now.” You said, just now realizing how long it had been. “It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, though. They’re a lot. They’re loud and kind of messy sometimes, but…they’re fiercely loyal. They’ve saved my life more times than I can count. I really do consider them family.”
“You knew I’d find you on the bank of that river, then?” He asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing.
“I was counting on it.”
“Interesting.” He nodded.
“How long have you known the younger one? Kili, I think his name is.” Sigrid asked.
“I’ve known of him for years. I’ve known of all of you for years, actually. But I met him at the same time as the rest of them, why?”
“You two seem to have known each other for ages.” She sighed. “The way he looks at you…It’s like there are a million stars in his eyes.”
“Oh I know.” You laughed softly. “Once we get to Erebor, I’m finally going to do something about it.”
A call came from the center of town, echoing into the distance. “Explain yourselves, dwarves!”
“Oop, there it is.”
“Just as she said…” Bain mumbled, thoroughly impressed.
You got up and rushed to the door, following the crowds of people into town, where the dwarves were being held by guards. You were careful to cover your pointed ears just in case their attention wandered to you, but you were sure the rest of the townsfolk were pretty well distracted.
“I am Thorin! Son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the mountain! I have come to reclaim our home from the dragon Smaug!” Thorin declared, fire in his eyes. He really did sound like a king when he spoke like that. You got chills up your spine just listening to him.
The crowd began to murmur about a prophecy, the word whispered amongst them. The Master perked up at this. He, like his lackey Alfrid, was absolutely grotesque, any sliver of dignity eaten away by his immense greed.
“If we succeed in our quest, we will share our bounty with Laketown.” Thorin promised. You knew when you all actually arrived in Erebor, that might change, but you hoped you’d be able to convince him to keep his word. “You have my word. All we ask is weapons and shelter until we make our leave.”
The Master thought about it for a long moment before he made his decision. “Welcome to Laketown, dwarves! Let us eat, drink, and be merry to celebrate their quest to reclaim Erebor!”
The townsfolk all cheered and the guards finally let go of the dwarves. You walked to Kili, who looked up at you with stars in his eyes, just the way Sigrid had described. It sent warmth blossoming through your stomach.
“You always seem to be right, Amrâlimê.” He murmured, his arms settling around your waist and pulling you close to him.
“I wonder why that is.” You chuckled, arms wrapping around him as well. You tilted his head up towards you with a gentle hand. “Everything go okay? Well, until…you know.”
“More than okay.” Kili smiled that boyish grin of his. It was at times like these that it was hard for you to believe he was hiding seventy-seven years behind that youthful face. “I cannot wait to get to Erebor.”
“It’s close now, isn’t it?”
“Very much so.” He nodded, pressing up on his toes to kiss your cheek before tugging you into the pub, where the rest of the group was beginning the celebrations.
Musicians were in the corner, playing lively lake shanties, the bartenders were slinging drinks faster than you could comprehend, and there was more food than you’d seen since the group left Rivendell so long ago. You settled into a seat in the corner, at a table with Fili, Bofur, and Kili, the last of whom left to grab drinks. While Kili was away, Fili leaned forward to speak to you over the noise.
“(Y/N), would you visit the market with me tomorrow?” He asked, feigning innocence. You suspected there was something going on, but you didn’t call him out on it.
“Yeah, of course, Fili. Shopping for anything in particular, or…?”
“Supplies and whatnot. For Uncle.” He added, although you were fairly certain it had nothing to do with Thorin.
“Okay, sure, I’ll help.”
He grinned. “Excellent.”
“You like mead, right, (Y/N)?” Kili asked, sliding a mug to you. “You seemed to like the kind the elves had in Rivendell.”
“I do like mead. Thank you.” You grinned and took the mug of the drink, taking a few tentative sips. It was good, but it was very strong.
“I asked if they had blueberry, but they didn’t, only raspberry and some strawberry.”
“It’s good.” You assured him. “You remembered what kind of mead I had all the way back then?”
“I remember everything about that night.” He winked.
The company drank and ate and drank some more. You hadn’t been drunk in a good, long while, so you finally let loose a bit, giving into the warmth and numbness of the alcohol flowing through your veins. You got a bit giggly, watching the dwarves dance and joke around.
“It’s all about unwinding and having a good time, isn’t it?” Ori rambled, rocking in time to the music. “That’s what these adventures are for.”
“Absolutely.” You nodded. “We have a phrase where I come from…‘maybe the real adventure was the friends we met along the way.’ And you guys are like my best friends. I love all of youuu.”
Kili turned to look at you very dramatically, bewildered at the way you were talking. “You’re drunk!” He laughed, pointing.
“So are you!”
He shook his head, though he was obviously lying. “Nonsense. I can hold my beer.”
“Bullshit, laddie!” Dwalin bellowed. “You’re the lightest weight of all of us here, the lass included!”
“Am not!” Kili huffed, crossing his arms.
“I’m a lightweight. Very much so.” You argued, shaking your head. “I’m only (height). It goes straight to my head.”
“He’s only 4’10”!” Gloin’s laugh echoed off the walls, and the whole company laughed with him.
“Oh right.” You shook your head. “I always forget.”
The band picked up a lively tune and Kili abandoned his drink and the laughing company. He took your hand and tugged you onto the dancefloor that had formed. The two of you did your best to follow along with the dance the people of Laketown were doing, twirling each other around, skipping along to the music around and around and around.
You and Kili laughed and laughed, dancing until the music stopped and you lost your footing, inadvertently pulling him down with you. You landed in a heap on the floor, his strong arms on either side of you and his face right in front of you, his warmth radiating onto you, even warmer than it usually was, due to the alcohol in his system.
Finally, things seemed to slow down as you sobered up due to his proximity and that look in his brown eyes. You imagined him leaning in and kissing you, what his lips would feel like against yours, rough and filled with passion and fire. You imagined the way his scruff would feel against your skin and the way his large, strong hands would wander your body. You wanted it. You wanted him.
“Are you alright?” He chuckled, looking you over for damages, but only finding a tipsy Book Keeper with flushed cheeks.
“I’m great.” You insisted, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. “I’m always great when you’re around, Kili.”
You didn’t miss the way he lit up when you said it. Instead of replying, though, he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek and pulled you to your feet again. You walked back to the others, some of whom were grumbling and exchanging money with one another. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn they were taking bets over when and how you and Kili would finally kiss. Unsurprisingly, Balin and Thorin and Bofur were on the receiving end of most of the coin.
You walked, albeit a little wobbly, back to your chair. Once you settled, Balin handed you a mug of what you came to realize was water. It always seemed he was taking care of you, and you very much appreciated it.
“Lassie, could you settle a bet between us?” Dwalin asked.
“I’m a lil’ drunk, but I probably could.” You tilted your head, crossing your legs on the chair you’d settled on. “What’s going on?”
The company laughed a little at your drunkenness.
“Great. Do you know what a One is?”
“I can count.” You insisted, furrowing your eyebrows.
The dwarves all laughed, and then Bofur added, “With a capital O, lass.”
“Ohhhhhhh. That makes more sense.” You giggled a bit and took a sip of water, praying for some sobriety for this conversation. “I do. Kind of. They’re like soulmates, right? Like…and correct me if I’m wrong…the belief that you were created as half of a whole and that your One is the other half?”
“I told you. Pay up.” Fili held up his hand. He tilted his head to you. “Thank you very much.”
“Did he tell you that?” Dwalin asked, shoving a few coins into the golden prince’s hand.
“No.” You shook your head. “I read about it where I’m from.”
“There are works about Ones where you’re from?” Ori asked, genuinely curious.
“Oh yeah.” You nodded. “They’re not in the Book so I didn’t know if they were a real thing or not, but there’s some works about them, yeah.”
You took a long sip of water from your mug and missed the look Fili gave his brother.
Once the party was over and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon once more, you all headed to the lodging the town was providing for all of you, a large house with plenty of beds, and claimed one for yourself, falling asleep almost instantly. And yet, drifting somewhere between asleep and awake, you swore you felt a pair of soft lips against your forehead.
***
Before coming to Middle Earth, you’d never had a hangover before. Sure, you were twenty-three, but while you were in college, you’d been focused on finishing your degree. You’d been drunk, sure, but never badly enough that you were hungover the next day. And yet, now, you had a pounding headache that could only be explained by the mere amount of alcohol you’d consumed the night before.
Most of the dwarves were still asleep by the time you came around, their snores all too familiar by this point in your journey with them. You spotted Kili in a bed across the room next to an empty bed you assumed belonged to Fili. He was still passed out, snoring. You smiled to yourself. There he was, your Prince Charming.
You reached for the book in your bag, which was hanging on the end of the bed you’d found yourself in.
The sun was up now, and streaming through the windows, so you opened the book and read the next couple of sections. What came next was the hike up to Erebor, then a confrontation with Smaug, and then, said dragon would be killed by Bard. You wished there was something you could do to stop the destruction. Smaug would destroy Laketown and kill many of the people who lived there. There would be survivors, sure, but…there must be some way to warn them, surely. But there was also the chance that if you told them to evacuate town, Bard might not be there to stop the dragon. You were pretty sure he was the only one who could.
You sighed. Sometimes your knowledge of things to come was a blessing. It had helped you protect the company, keep them ahead of schedule on their journey. Other times, like this, it made you feel guilty, even though there was no real way you could save the men of the village. Some things had to happen; Smaug’s death was one of them. And besides, you’d seen the Master, you knew he was skeptical of the dwarves as is. If he knew it was kind of their fault the dragon would be headed towards Laketown, you had no clue what would happen to them. Then none of you would make it to Erebor. In fact, he’d probably burn you at the stake for being a witch while he was at it.
“You ready to go?” Came Fili’s gruff whisper. He was all dressed and ready for a day on the town. Right. You’d agreed to go to the market with him.
“What time is it?” You asked, eyes bleary.
“Sometime after noon. The market is open. Thought I’d let you get some sleep, though.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at you. “You had quite the night last night, Book Keeper.”
You motioned to the rest of the dwarves that were still out cold. “I think we all did.”
You stretched and got out of bed, rummaging through your clothes for something suitable to wear and changed quickly before meeting Fili outside the house, your bag slung over your shoulder.
“Is there anything you need from the market today, Book Keeper?” Fili asked. “I scoped out the stalls earlier. The merchants have agreed to furnish us with anything we need before we leave.”
“Did you see anyone selling dresses?” You asked. “Not anything super fancy, just…clean and nice.”
“I saw some, yes. Any particular occasion?”
You paused, looking at him and the mischievous look in his eye. “Why, what do you know?”
“Oh nothing, nothing…” He shook his head, walking along. “I think I did see one. This way.”
Fili led you down through the market stalls to one run by a kindly old woman. She had several simple dresses. Vibrant greens and oranges. They were perfect now that the leaves were changing color. The orange would go well with your cloak, but the green would match the courting bead once it was made. Choices, choices…
“Hello, lass.” The old woman greeted you. “How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking for a dress.” You told her. “I love this green color.”
“It matches your ring, dear.” She smiled, noticing the gem around your finger.
“That’s what I thought, too.” You told her.
“Is it for any occasion in particular?”
Fili looked away, pretending to be distracted by something in the next stall.
“It is, actually. It doesn’t need to be anything very fancy, but…I’m planning on wearing it to tell the man I love that I want to court him.” You told her.
She gasped, her eyes twinkling. She took your hand in both of hers. “I have just the thing.”
She led you by the hand into her house and let you try on the perfect dress. Its fabric was soft, a deep emerald green. Along its hem, several wildflowers were embroidered with sage green and lavender thread. It was beautiful, though not too flashy, and it went perfectly with your ring.
It was absolutely perfect.
Though she insisted you didn’t have to pay her, wanting to give it to you for the occasion, you gave her most of the coins Gandalf allotted you at the beginning of the journey. You’d been saving them for something special, and this felt right.
Once you changed out of it, you met Fili back in front of the stall. He looked at you, expectant.
“Well?”
“I found one. It’s very nice.” You smiled, patting your bag. “Now, what did you need to buy?”
“Hmm?”
“…for your uncle?” You reminded him.
“Ah, right! For Uncle! Yes, um, just some provisions is all. More food, some supplies; rope and wood and things…”
“Mmhmm.” You hummed, unconvinced.
Fili led you through the market, purchasing a few things here and there. But you could tell he was just biding his time until he finally asked what he’d actually brought you there to talk about. “So um…It seems none of us have ever asked you how humans from your realm…court.”
You laughed in disbelief. “Oh my god.”
“It’s not for me!”
“I know that.” You shook your head.
Fili stared at you, waiting for more of a reply. “How might a dwarf go about that? About courting a human. A human woman. If he so wanted to. I don’t. No offense, of course, you’re lovely, Book Keeper.”
“Fili…” You hesitated for a long moment. You knew he and Kili were close. Beyond close, in fact. You trusted Bofur and Balin to keep your not-so-secret secret, but could you tell Fili without indirectly telling Kili?
Fili’s expression fell. “Do you not love him?”
Your took a breath, forming your words. “Fili, I love your brother more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life.”
He breathed in relief. “Thank Mahal…”
“It’s just that, um…Balin and Bofur are teaching me to smith a courting bead for him. Once we get to Erebor, I mean. I wish I could do it sooner, but I want to do it properly.” You breathed, fiddling with your claddagh ring nervously. “I want it to be perfect.”
Fili looked at you for a long time, his eyes soft. “You really do love him.”
You nodded. “I do.”
“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “He sent me here to get information on how to take matters into his own hands. My brother has never been…patient, let’s just say.”
You laughed. “Oh, I know.” You thought for a moment. “Just tell him…it’s a long, complicated, confusing process, but…flowers are usually a good start.”
“Is it actually complicated where you’re from?”
“Yes. I wish our customs were as straight-forward as yours. With humans, it’s all a guessing game. You go on a few dates together, but there’s always the question of who asks who out, and who pays for the meal and when do you have a first kiss, when do you take the next step, it’s all…experimenting and feeling things out. And sometimes, you think someone is really into you and they’re not and then your heart gets broken because they were acting like they liked you, but they didn’t and they just slowly stop talking to you altogether. Or maybe things moved too fast and it scared them away…so many things that could go wrong. And then you don’t know how many dates you go on before you’re actually considered dating, well, courting, I guess. Same thing, really. Could be three or four, could be a lot more than that…it’s rough.”
Fili was stunned silent for a long moment. “That does sound…awful.”
“It is.”
He looked around awkwardly, unsure of exactly what else to say. “So…what kind of flowers do you want?”
***
That night was the last night the company was staying in Laketown. Your efforts had bought the group some extra time to spend on the hike up to Erebor. You were spending the evening to yourself. The dwarves were out drinking in the pub, so you were in the house alone, preparing your things for more travel.
You sat on the bed you had claimed and went through your pack, organizing your clothes, folding them in piles. You pulled out your stack of polaroid photos and started shuffling through them. There were so many that you and the dwarves had taken over the course of the journey. The guys making silly faces, cooking dinner over a campfire, dancing and singing songs together, visiting all kinds of beautiful places together. You’d always known Middle Earth would be beautiful, but you had no idea the extent of it. And yet, after having been there for so long, it was beginning to feel more like home to you than the realm you’d come from.
You stared at one picture in particular, one of Thorin, Fili, and Kili all together. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. It was about time you faced the inevitable. Your own personal quest to save the line of Durin was nearing every moment. You weren’t sure what to do about it. You hadn’t told anyone, obviously. You didn’t even know what they would say. And if you did tell them, there was the chance that it would make them nervous and even more likely to die. Or, worse, one of the others could die as well. That blood would be on your hands.
You found yourself wishing, now more than ever, that Gandalf was there so you could ask him for advice. He was the only one who would know that to do.
Instead, however, the first to wander back from the festivities was none other than Bilbo Baggins, a smile on his face and a wooden mug of something in his hand.
“(Y/N), what are you doing in here all alone?” He spotted the tears running down your face and stopped, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears as quickly as you could. “Just, uh, taking a little stroll down memory lane, I guess.” You held up some pictures and he nodded, walking closer.
“You know, if there’s anything you need to talk about, I’ve got open ears.” Bilbo offered, closing the door behind him. “I may not be as wise as Balin, but I like to think I’ve acquired some wisdom of my own on this trip.”
“Thank you.” You chuckled, nodding. “I appreciate it, Bilbo.” You let out a long, shaking sigh. “I really wish I could tell you what’s going on, but I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”
Bilbo nodded, thinking for a long moment before replying. “Whatever it is you’re facing now…you’ve been carrying it for a while, haven’t you?”
“For longer than I’ve known any of you.” You admitted.
“Well, whatever it is you’re carrying…you don’t have to carry it alone. If you need to tell someone, it can be me. You’ve carried my burdens, let me share yours.”
“Okay, well…” You choked back a sob, pulling the book out of your bag. You flipped through the pages at the very back of it, scanning the tiny words carefully. What you hated the most about it was how easy it was to miss. Like an afterthought. One sentence that broke your heart a million times over.
You pointed and handed the book to Bilbo so he could read it for himself. You couldn’t bear the thought of reading the words out loud. “Am I allowed to read straight from the book?”
You nodded, so he allowed himself to scan over the words, and as soon as he did, he let out a sigh and shook his head.
“Wow, (Y/N), I’m so…” Bilbo exhaled. “You’ve known this the whole time?”
“That’s the reason I’m here. Gandalf told me…he said I’d be able to change it. To try at least.” You shook your head, new, hot tears trailing down your face. “I don’t know. I’m just…so scared.”
“You have every right to be.” Bilbo said. “And, especially now, with everything between the two of you…” He handed you the book back and looked you in the eye. “I am so sorry. Have you…have you spoken to Gandalf about it since then?”
“Not directly. He’s never here for long.”
“Ask for his advice. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.” Bilbo assured you. “And if he doesn’t, well…you and I are rather good at making plans together. We will figure this out.” He took your hands, very serious. “You’re not going to lose him, alright? I promise you.”
You sniffled and nodded, looking at him for a good, long moment before pulling him into your arms. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Book Keeper.”
***
The next morning, bright and early, just before the company was set to leave for Erebor, you knocked on Bard’s door, nervous. In your hand was a note, a warning about the dragon that was set to come for their town. You explained it as well as you could in a way that you hoped he would understand. It was inevitable, but if he was prepared, it might prevent damage to the town, save some lives.
When he opened the door, he had a dismissive look on his face before he saw that it was you.
“Oh. Hello. (Y/N), was it?”
“Yeah. Hi Bard. Um, so, you can take this with a grain of salt if you want, but I thought you should know.” You handed the note to him and he held it, hesitant.
He raised an eyebrow. “A prophecy from the Book Keeper?”
You nodded. “So it would seem. And thank you for helping the dwarves. I know they probably didn’t thank you properly. I’ll do my best to make sure they hold up their end of the bargain.”
He stared at you for a long moment. “Thank you. Best of luck to you.”
It was a weird moment when you stepped down from his stairs, back down to the dock where Kili was waiting for you. It felt significant. Bard had an impact on you when you’d read the story as a child. It felt…right to help him now. And you knew how important he’d be for the outcome of the story and everything that would come after Smaug’s death.
Not long after, the company boarded a boat and set off towards the shores nearest Erebor. It was beautiful. The waters were fairly calm, the sky was alight with color…You watched as Laketown got smaller and smaller behind you, the Lonely Mountain growing closer and closer.
You caught Kili squinting at the distant grass, searching for wildflowers, no doubt. You couldn’t stop your heart from melting at the sight.
“I bought some things at the market in Laketown. When we get camp set up, I’ll have Thorin send Kili and Fili out to scout for a bit.” Balin told you, his voice quiet. “And then we can get started.”
“Awesome.” You nodded, a chill running up your spine. It was finally happening. You stared at the ring around your finger and couldn’t help but smile thinking about its future. “Thank you, Balin.”
The old dwarf smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t mention it, dear. I’m quite excited myself.”
Six of the dwarves paddled the boat for a few hours. Not long after, they switched. Kili had been paddling during the first shift, so once he was finished, he plopped down in the seat beside yours, his leg resting against yours. He kept staring up at the Lonely Mountain, his eyes absolutely glimmering with excitement to finally have reached your destination.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” He asked, his voice soft and sentimental.
“It really is.” You agreed, nodding. You imagined years from now when the rest of the dwarves journeyed to Erebor from wherever they had gone to since, business bustling, children laughing. You knew it would be so beautiful. You hoped you’d get to stick around to see it. You still weren’t sure how it would work when everything was done.
Kili slipped his hand into yours and squeezed it excitedly, bringing it to his lips. You swore your heart skipped a beat. Any of the dwarves that witnessed this interaction laughed softly to themselves.
The boat landed some time later when the sun was beginning to tickle the tops of the hills nearby. Thorin decided to camp as far from the mountain as possible, as to, hopefully, not wake the dragon overnight, but he would have dwarves posted on guard all night just in case. He was ever-grateful you’d bought them an extra day of time. The following day was Durin’s day, which meant that around tomorrow evening, the dwarves would enter Erebor finally, and, inevitably, Bilbo would wake the dragon.
Yikes.
As soon as you got out of the boat, you spotted a crate not too far from the shore and scrunched your eyebrows at it. While the others started unloading things, you walked over to the big box and noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of it. Upon closer inspection, it was addressed to you.
“What is that, lass?” Dwalin asked, noticing your absence.
“It’s addressed to me.” You read the words in your head.
My Dear Book Keeper,
Do not stress to much over the days to come
It will all work itself out in the end.
Well done so far. Enjoy these with the company.
I’ll see you soon.
-Gandalf
“It’s from Gandalf.” You told them, pushing the lid off of the crate to find a whole bunch of bottles of black cherry cream soda. “He brought us that cream soda I like.”
“I wonder what it tastes like…” Dori wondered.
“We’ll have it with dinner this evening.” Thorin declared. “For now, set up camp and keep an eye on the skies.” He stared up at the mountain for a long time. It would be quite the hike tomorrow, but you knew it would be well worth it.
Sometime after they got the boat unpacked, the camp set up, Thorin sent Kili and Fili out to scout and Balin and Bofur found you not long after, looking excited.
Balin took a tiny kit of jeweling tools out of his bag and unrolled it, showing you all the tools he had at your disposal.
“Alright, lassie, do you have an idea of what kind of design you’d like to do?”
“The bead should be pretty thick, right? Is this circumference okay, or should it be smaller?” You asked.
“Let me see.” Balin held out his hand and you carefully set the ring in his palm. He pulled out the little glass eyepiece he used for reading to examine it more carefully. “Kili’s hair is quite thin, so it might be wise to bring it in a little bit, but in terms of thickness, yes, it should be a thicker band.”
“I got some chains at the market. They’re silver, so they’ll match.” Bofur said, presenting a few broken pieces of jewelry he’d picked up at the market. Well, either he had picked them up or Nori had…borrowed them, one of the two. “Should add onto it quite nicely once it’s melted down.”
“Wait, is she courting Kili?” Ori asked, completely unaware until that very moment that something was going on between you and the youngest prince. “Why am I always the last to know?”
“She will be, but for now, keep quiet, lad.” Dwalin, roughed up Ori’s hair. He met your eyes over the fire and winked at you. “Would hate to ruin the surprise.”
The three of you worked quickly, with Balin and Bofur directing you through every step of the process. The other members of the party occasionally chimed in with advice. Thorin watched the whole exchange with proud eyes. He didn’t say much, but you could tell he approved.
And once it was finally done and cool enough to touch, you couldn’t stop looking at it.
“I think he’ll love it.” Bilbo said, smiling proudly.
“It is quite beautiful, (Y/N).” Thorin complimented. “Very impressive for your first work.”
“I had some really great teachers.” You said, emotion welling in your voice. You looked at all of the dwarves that were around you, Bilbo sitting among them as well. This was your family. These were your boys, and even with Kili and Fili out scouting for the moment, you still very much loved and appreciated each dwarf in attendance. “You guys really mean a lot to me. All of you. All of your advice, your comfort, your lessons…I will carry all of them with me for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t go all soft on us now, lass.” Dwalin tilted his head, compassion in his dark eyes. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”
“Right.” You laughed softly, nodding.
“When are you going to do it?” Dori asked. He’d always been something of a hopeless romantic, as he’d told you. Loved the idea of young love and the innocence and beauty that came with it.
“I was going to wait until the day after tomorrow to do it. I can’t give too many details now, but…I don’t want to distract him while there’s still a dragon here.”
“That’s a good plan.” Balin put his hand on your arm. “Best of luck to you, dear, but I doubt you’ll need it.”
***
Kili and Fili came back sometime later, and once they did, the rest of the party finally got into the drinks Gandalf had sent. You’d all found some large logs to sit on around the fire. You’d tucked the bead into a pocket for safe keeping and were sitting there, staring into the flames when Kili approached, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. They were beautiful, purple stalks with smaller yellow flowers in between.
He seemed nervous, standing for a moment before deciding to sit on the log next to you. You could tell he was rehearsing in his head how to word what he was about to say next. Thinking about it, you had been a bit vague in the advice you’d given to Fili.
“These, um…I picked them for you.” He said, handing the bouquet to you. “I hope you…like them.”
“These are beautiful, Kili.” You assured him, holding the flowers and admiring them for a long moment. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “I’m glad you think so.”
There was a moment of quiet and you could tell he was contemplating asking whether or not this meant you were courting now, but he didn’t say anything else, unsure of exactly what to say. So, you decided to fill the quiet.
Setting the flowers carefully on top of your bag, you took Kili’s hand and leaned on his shoulder. “I’m really glad I came here, Kili.”
“To Erebor?” He asked quietly.
“To Middle Earth.”
He squeezed your hand. “I am too.”
“It’s been a while since you’ve spoken of home, lass,” Dwalin pointed out. Everyone was circled up now, facing the fire and sipping on their bottles of black cherry cream soda.
“Yeah, you don’t talk about it much anymore.” Ori agreed, nodding.
“It’s…well, it’s pretty boring, honestly. I’m no fighter. I’m a writer. I’ve been writing a fantasy novel, ironically enough, but I got stuck and didn’t know where to take the story.” You shrugged, lifting your head from the dwarf prince’s shoulder, but not letting go of his hand. “There’s no elves or goblins or trolls or…magic there. We latch onto these stories of whimsy and adventure so much because we don’t have it where I’m from. It makes us feel alive.”
You were quiet for a moment, fetching the book from your bag.
“I’ve had this book since I was twelve years old. I had to read it for a class when I was in middle school. Usually I hated reading things I was forced to read, but…I knew this book was different. I could feel it, even then. A classic adventure, a quest to kill a dragon, but there was so much more to it. My friends and I were excited to read the assigned chapters every week to see what trouble you guys would get into and then fight your way out of. It was fun. And at the time we were reading it, they were also in the process of making movies about you guys.”
“What’s a movie?” Fili asked, seated on Kili’s other side.
“Oh. Right. Well, um…a movie is like a play. Kind of. Except the whole thing is recorded with a camera. Imagine if my Polaroid could make moving pictures with sound. It’s like that. Moving pictures with sound that tell a story. And so my classmates and I all took a trip to the theater together to see them and it was really special. I couldn’t imagine then that I’d ever be here, that I’d ever see these events with my own eyes, intervene in them. Even before I knew you guys existed, you had a really big impact on my life. You all got me through some tough times.”
“And you’ve gotten us through tough times.” Bilbo smiled. “I’d say we’re probably even now.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay all of you for everything you’ve done for me. So I guess I’ll just have to stick around and keep trying.”
“Will you stay?” Kili asked, his voice quiet. “A long time ago you told me if you got the choice, you would. Is that still…how you feel?”
The company was quiet, waiting for your response.
“If I get to choose, I will absolutely stay here. If you’d all have me, of course.” You were looking at Kili now, your other hand joining the first, holding his. “I don’t think I could live in a realm that doesn’t have you in it.”
Kili leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. You reciprocated the hug immediately, surrendering to his warmth. You felt the tears trail down your cheeks. Unlike the night before, you weren’t sobbing, you weren’t sniffling. You were barely making any noise at all, but that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.
“(Y/N), you will always have a place in our halls.” Thorin said, watching his nephew embrace you. “You and the Burglar both. You’re our kin now.”
“Once we get the library back in working order, we’ll need a Book Keeper.” Nori pointed out, causing the others to laugh.
You nodded and pulled away from Kili. He noticed your tears immediately and reached out to wipe them away.
“Oh, Amrâlimê, there’s no need for tears.”
“Someday you’re going to have to tell me what that word means,” you whispered, a soft laugh escaping you.
He smiled. “Soon.”
“Promise?” You held out your pinkie finger.
He stared at it for a long time. “What am I meant to do with this, Book Keeper?”
You reached for his hand and shaped his fingers, tucking them all down aside from his pinkie. “This is a very important human custom where I’m from. Sacred almost. Everyone pay attention.” You told the others, linking your pinkie with Kili’s. “We call this a Pinkie Promise. It’s an unbreakable oath.”
“Why are you just teaching us this now?” Fili laughed.
“Unbreakable, you say?” Kili laughed, his pinkie curling tighter around yours.
“Unbreakable. Now you have to tell me someday.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
***
You didn’t really get much sleep that night. Too much on your mind. The next morning, the dwarves packed up their supplies just as the sun was peeking over the horizon again. It was going to be quite the hike. Honestly, you were excited for it. It felt right, finally being there after everything you’d all been through to reach Erebor.
While getting ready for the day, you put some of the flowers Kili had given you in your hair, tucking them into the single braid that sat on your shoulder.
Kili gasped and you looked down at him, his eyes fixed on your bare finger, just now noticing that your ring was gone. “Amrâlimê, where’s your ring?”
“Oh.” Your eyes widened and you looked at your hand and then at him. “I guess it must have slipped off at some point.”
Kili started scanning the ground for something small and shiny. “Fili, help me look.”
“For what?”
“For (Y/N)’s ring!” Kili exclaimed, exasperated.
You bit your lip, unsure of what to do. You looked to Balin for advice, who shrugged, chuckling.
“We can look for a moment, but we must get going.” Thorin insisted. “We have no time to waste.”
“Uncle—”
“It’s okay, Kili,” you met his eyes.
“But your ring…”
You reached out and tilted his face up towards yours. “If it’s meant for me to have, it’ll find me again.
His eyes softened and he let out a breath. “You are wise beyond your years, you know.”
You shrugged, smirking. “Seems you guys have rubbed off on me.”
After the slight delay, the group got moving again, walking closer and closer to the base of the Lonely Mountain. There were footpaths up to the entrance, sure, but they were steep, and since the mountain had been uninhabited for so long, they had eroded in the weather, making it difficult to walk.
Kili went on ahead of you, offering his hand and tugging you up when the steps were too steep. Sometimes, he’d let his hand linger in yours, fiddling with your fingers. You would never forget the way he looked at you, like you were made of starlight. No person you had ever been romantically involved with had ever looked at you like that before. God, you wanted to kiss him so bad.
Finally, after hours of hiking, the group reached the landing where the secret door was hidden. You pulled out the book while one of the other dwarves consulted the map. The sun would be setting soon, so all there was to do was wait.
“Are we sure this is the spot?” Ori asked.
“Yes.” Thorin nodded. “Book Keeper?”
“We’re all good here. Just keep an eye out for the hole. Watch for it while the sun is setting just in case, but it should show up by the light of the moon.” You told them. “But yeah, make sure you double-check during the sunset, just to be safe.”
“Good, good.” The king nodded, resting for a moment. “The light of the moon?”
“Yeah. Would have been a real heart-breaking moment for a second until Bilbo spotted it when the sun went down and the moon came out. The rest of you all gave up, but he didn’t.” You told them, tucking the book away again. For a bit, you took a seat against the stone wall and drank some water, tired from the long hike.
“Are you alright? Is there anything you need?” Kili asked, kneeling in front of you.
“I’m just a little tired. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well.” He settled in, sitting with you. “Those flowers look very beautiful in your hair like that.”
“You picked some lovely ones, what can I say?”
“Are they…adequate?” He wondered, his eyes sincere and unsure.
“They are perfect.” You assured him, taking both of his hands in yours. You so wished you could just do it here and now, just tell him everything and ask to braid that beautiful hair of his. But it was so close to the door opening. There were bigger things to deal with, more important matters at hand. “Kili…”
“Yes, Amrâlimê, what is it?” He searched your eyes.
“Can I sleep on your leg? I didn’t get very much sleep last night and things are about to get…difficult when that door is opened…”
“Oh. Yes, of course, come here.” He adjusted into a position that would be comfortable for you.
You laid down, using his thigh as a pillow, pulling your cloak around yourself as a blanket.
“Get some rest, Book Keeper.” Balin told you. “I have a feeling we’ll need you once we’re inside.”
You nodded and let yourself close your eyes. And when you did, you felt Kili’s careful fingers playing with your hair, gently lulling you to some well-needed sleep.
***
When you awoke, the sun was setting and the dwarves were watching carefully for the keyhole to open. Kili had not moved at all. His hand was still playing with your hair. You hummed and stretched, turning to look up at him. He smiled once he saw your face.
“You sleep well?”
“Mmhmm.” You nodded, sitting up. “Thank you.”
“Just in time.” Bilbo said.
The sun continued to dip beneath the hills, and soon, the moon emerged. Sure enough, there was the keyhole. You smiled. You were right. Of course you were, but it still felt good. However, you knew what else this night would bring.
“There it is…” Thorin murmured, holding up the key as the thrush knocked against the stone.
“We’ve done it. We finally made it.” Balin was clearly getting emotional, his voice betraying him.
Dwalin put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, nodding. The dwarves all stood at attention, watching anxiously as Thorin slipped the key into the hole and turned it. The door gave way, drifting open into the Lonely Mountain.
Kili’s breath stuttered and when you looked at him, his eyes were watering. You took his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. You knew how long he’d been waiting for this moment. He’d grown up hearing tales of Erebor, their stolen homeland, and had longed to return.
Balin and Thorin lead the other dwarves inside tentatively, touching the stone walls and looking at the carvings upon them. Balin explained one of the carvings, one depicting the Throne of the Kings with the Arkenstone sitting in it, its rays of light shining out, representing the seven dwarven kingdoms.
“I cannot believe it.” Fili whispered, eyes watering as well.
The dwarves were careful to not make too much noise, but they all spent a lot of time embracing each other, celebrating silently before going back outside to wait for the Burglar to scope out the scene. Bilbo did, however, pull you aside to ask for some advice before heading down.
“Balin has requested I retrieve the Arkenstone if I find it…What advice do you have on the matter?”
“You’ll find it down there.” You knelt down to whisper in his ear, as to not be overheard. “Hold onto it. Keep it somewhere safe. You’ll need it for…the days to come. But don’t tell the others.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
“When, um…when we hear the dragon start moving, we’ll come down to help. It’ll all work out.” You were confident on the matter, and that helped instill a bit of confidence in him as well. “Any other questions?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”
“Master Burglar,” Kili approached suddenly, a tentative look on his face. “I have a request as well…”
“I’ll see you outside.” You told Kili before leaving the both of them there.
Fili was waiting outside with the others on the balcony where you were all waiting together. You hadn’t told them exactly what was coming, but they knew they’d need to be on alert.
“Did he tell you what he’s requesting from Bilbo?” You asked Fili.
“I’m sworn to secrecy, Book Keeper.” Fili chuckled. “He made me do a Pinkie Promise and everything.”
You laughed at that. “Well, I could never ask you to break a Pinkie Promise.”
A short while later, Kili came out to stand with the others. You looked at him, curious, but he didn’t tell you what he’d asked for, only brushed the hair out of the front of your face, warmth in his eyes.
“What now, Book Keeper?” asked Dwalin, his hands resting on his belt.
“Now we wait.” You told them. “Shouldn’t be long. Maybe an hour or so. And then we’ll need to go in there and save him.”
“Does he—”
“He knows.” You assured Dori, who looked concerned for your hobbit’s wellbeing. “I told him. We’ll go down there and drive the dragon out and then…he won’t be our problem anymore.”
“And just how do we do that?” Thorin asked.
You reached into your bag and opened the book, flipping to pretty close to the end of it. “In the book, he just kind of gets pissed off and leaves. I doubt it will be that simple, though.”
“Is it ever?” Ori whined, leaning back against the stone wall.
You spent the next hour listening for any tiny sound that would signify Smaug had awoken and was chasing Bilbo. Nothing yet. You decided that waiting was the worst part, especially when you had a faint idea of what would happen next.
“Something bad is going to happen, isn’t it?” Kili asked, his voice a mere whisper. “That’s what you’ve been so stressed about lately.”
“Everything with Smaug is…easy compared to what comes after.” You confessed. Until that moment, you thought you’d been hiding it well, but Kili saw right through the façade. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
“Mmm…” Kili nodded, taking your hand in his, admiring your fingers before bringing it to his lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”
You nodded, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was him you were worried about.
Soon enough, there was a loud rumbling from within the mountain. You all got to your feet and rushed inside, down the spiraling staircases to the massive treasure hoard of Thror. It was…even more massive than you could have possibly imagined. And at the center of it all, was Bilbo, scrambling to get away from the massive beast.
You gulped. There he was. Smaug the Terrible. Big, monstrous, and coming straight at all of you. Fire welled in the dragon’s throat and you all ducked behind a marble staircase.
“You dare challenge me, dwarves?! Over the inconsequential life of one little hobbit?!”
“You think yourself so terrible, Smaug?! You underestimate our strength!” Thorin bellowed. The group split up, distracting the dragon, going separate ways all with one goal: the forges.
Unsure of where you were going, you, Kili, and Fili followed quickly after Thorin, down, down, down the massive fortress into its depths. Erebor was impossibly large, and, seeing it for the first time, you doubted you’d ever learn your way around it.
Smaug’s fiery breath nearly scathed you a few times. Its heat was close and scorching, giving you an even better motivator to keep moving. Eventually, the group all made it down to the forges. You counted the heads as quickly as you could, and when you did, you sighed in relief. This didn’t last long, however, as Smaug quickly rose from the stairwell, peeking through the massive gate that barred him from entering the forge.
The dwarves took cover behind massive metal beams, as did you, however, Smaug didn’t breathe fire, as you’d expected him to. Instead, you heard him land on the other side of the gate, an intrigued growl forming in his throat. You heard a loud clang and then felt his sharp claws cut through your pants as he scratched you, reaching carefully between the large metal bars.
You let out a yelp and collapsed to the floor, using your arms to scurry back, out of his range. It seemed you were bleeding, but it didn’t look like it was too deep.
“You.” He hissed, his eye staring at you, helpless on the ground. “You do not belong here.”
“M-Me?” You asked, staring up at him. The dwarves moved uncertainly, some of their eyes on you, some of their eyes on the beast.
“Yes, you. Mortal girl with the ears of an elfling.” His eyes narrowed and then he snarled, “Book Keeper. You reek of the Mortal Realm.”
Your eyes widened and your heart began pounding even harder in your chest. “I—”
“It’s endearing, really. That you think your existence here matters.” He shook his head. “That you could save them from me.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. That was not the way the story went. It never had been. Although maybe Smaug’s dragon-sized ego had caused him to overlook that part.
“Leave her!” Kili shouted, rushing in front of you and leaving the safety of his post.
“Kili, don’t—!” But that didn’t stop him from pulling you off of the floor, supporting your weight with an arm around your waist, a weapon in his other hand, pointed at the dragon.
Kili’s expression darkened, fire in his eyes. “Harm her again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I swear it.”
Smaug laughed. “The dwarf cares for you? Despite the fact that you have no right to exist here? Hilarious. And pathetic.”
“She has every right!” Fili joined his brother and your heart raced even faster as every other dwarf and Bilbo stood in front of you, ready to defend you from the massive dragon beyond the gate.
“You know how this story ends, don’t you?” Smaug asked, his voice arrogant. He took a few heavy steps further. “You cannot win. There is no happily ever after. Not for you and certainly not for them.” You could see the fire welling in his chest, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, the fire exploded from his mouth.
It was too late. You nor the dwarves had time to take cover. It would all be for nothing. The journey, your friendship, all of your moments with them…burned to ash.
In that same moment, your hand shot forward, and as if by magic, the flames dispersed as though hitting an impenetrable bubble, a halo protecting you, Bilbo, and the dwarves.
A tear streaming down your cheek, you stood there, hand extended, protecting them with whatever magic this was, whatever power had been hidden inside you all along. Your gaze hardened and though you couldn’t see it, your eyes shined gold like the endless treasures inside the mountain. “I’m writing my own ending, slug.”
Smaug’s fire fizzled and he gasped as though it was being stolen from him, pulled straight from his mouth. He coughed. His chest lit orange, like he was preparing to breathe more fire, but the light inside of him flickered before going out completely. His eyes narrowed at you. “What have you done?!”
“Not sure. Want to find out what else I can do?”
Snorting angrily, Smaug turned around. You heard the breaking of stone and then nothing.
Your knees wobbled, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as you lowered your hand. The dwarves all murmured in amazement and confusion as the dragon fled. You collapsed, but Kili caught you on the way down, his strong arms softening the blow of your knees on the cold marble floors.
“How…how did you…?” Bilbo mumbled, confused.
“I don’t know.” You told him. “I…I don’t have any magic.”
“Well, that certainly looked like magic to me, lass.” Balin said, impressed with your work.
Dwalin smiled, proud. “I knew you had it in you.”
“Let’s make sure he’s left before getting too comfortable.” Thorin insisted.
“Good plan.” You told him, trying to stand, but finding your strength depleted.
Thorin shook his head. “Book Keeper, stay here. You’ve done enough for us for one night. Oin, gather supplies to treat her wound. Kili, you stay with her until she’s fit to move again.”
“I will.” Kili nodded, watching as the others left.
You exhaled a shaking breath, collapsing into his arms. Kili knelt there with you for a long moment, your breathing heavy, shoulders shaking. He held you, careful but firm, his touches deliberate and comforting.
After a while, you pulled away to look up at him, ash smeared on his face and pure starlight in his eyes.
“Kili…” Your eyes watered, voice wobbling. “You…”
“It’s alright.” He brushed the tear from your cheek. “We’re alright, look at me.”
You choked out a sob, staring at him for a long moment before finally, finally…
One of your hands rose to his cheek, tilting his face up to yours. You looked into his eyes for a moment and then leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately, like he’d been kissing you for centuries, his lips exploring yours, passionate and soft. Your heart pounded as your noses clashed, your hand wandering back into his hair and his strong arms tugging your body closer to his, chests flush with one another. The feeling of his scruff against your skin was everything you’d imagined it’d be that drunken night in the tavern.
After several minutes, you finally pulled apart, resting your forehead against his, your breathing heavy.
“It means ‘My Love.’” He told you, stopping to take a long, shaking breath. “Amrâlimê. It means ‘My Love.’ And I call you that because…you are my One. I’ve known since that night in the Shire when I turned the corner and saw you standing there.”
“Kili…” Your voice was soft. “The whole time?”
“I didn’t want to…scare you off.” He chuckled at the ridiculous notion. “I know humans don’t have Ones, even here. But that is no excuse. I should have told you so long ago. My brother has made that known at every opportunity.”
You slipped your bag off of your shoulder and onto the floor, reaching into it for a very special pouch. “I didn’t lose my ring.”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
You tilted the pouch’s contents into your palm and held up the courting bead you had created from it instead. “I…”
“Is this a courting bead?” He asked, disbelief heavy in his tone and tears welling in his eyes. “You…you made this? You’d give up your ring…?”
“For you.” You set it in his palm and cupped his face in both of your hands. “I love you, Kili. I love you so much, and…if you’d let me, I’d like to braid your hair, court you the proper dwarf way.”
He let out a sob, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight. “I…I thought you’d never ask.” He pulled away to press another passionate kiss to your lips. “B-but my bead isn’t finished yet. I…I asked Bilbo to find an emerald for me, the finishing touch.” He touched his nose to yours, smiling softly. “They’ll match.”
“I can wait as long as you need me to.” You assured him, kissing him again, and then one more time for good measure. “I would wait a century for you, Kili.”
“I can’t believe this is happening…” He smiled into another kiss. “We must tell the others. Can you walk?”
“I think so.” You nodded, the two of you getting to your feet.
You were a little wobbly, but Kili took one of your arms around his shoulder, supporting you every step of the way. Sure, your leg hurt a bit, but you could hardly think about it after everything that had just transpired.
Eventually, you both came upon the other dwarves, who had started clearing out the commons. Some of them, Balin and Bilbo and Thorin, were out on a balcony, watching Smaug as he flew off towards Laketown. Oin had set up a makeshift infirmary in the corner of the room, and as soon as Fili saw you and his brother enter, he rushed over, taking your other arm and helping you to the cot.
“Does it hurt?” Kili asked as they set you down and Oin started examining the mark.
“A little.” You winced as the older dwarf poked at it.
“It’s not too deep and the bleeding has already stopped.” Oin noted. “It will probably hurt for a few days, but it should heal up just fine, lass.”
“Thank you, Oin.”
“I’ll apply a salve and get you wrapped up.”
Oin rummaged through his supplies while Bilbo rushed into the room, an excited expression on his face. “They shot Smaug down! The people of Laketown, they shot him down before he even reached the edge of town!”
The dwarves burst into joyful celebration, but you sat there in shock. Huh. Maybe warning Bard had some unforeseen consequences…
“Oh shit.” Your eyes widened. “He didn’t…burn the town down?” As Oin tended to your wound you reached for the book, desperately flipping to the end.
“He…he didn’t have any fire.” Bilbo said, his voice quiet.
“That…might be a problem.” You told him, taking your lip between your teeth. “Or not…? I really…wow, I didn’t see that coming.”
Before anyone could say anything else, Thorin and Balin returned to the fold, accompanied by none other than Gandalf the Gray. The relief was palpable as soon as you saw him. Good. At least now you’d have him to talk to.
When he spotted you amongst the dwarves, a mischievous twinkle gleamed in his wise old eyes. “Ah, the Book Keeper. Making a splash, I see.”
“Yeah, it seems like it.”
“There is much we must discuss.” Gandalf said. “Oin, are you done with her?”
“Aye.” Oin nodded. You stood and followed Gandalf further into the depths of Erebor, out of earshot of the other dwarves. As you were walking away, you spotted Kili in the corner of your eye as Bilbo handed him what appeared to be the aforementioned emerald.
“So, where do we even begin…?” Gandalf murmured, lighting his pipe as he settled into the chair at the end of the table that appeared to have been the grand dining room a long time ago. There was quite a bit of dust. “I suppose we’ll start with something light; How’s Kili?”
You laughed. “Kili is good. No poisoned arrow to the leg, no near-death in Laketown…and um, we’re actually…well, we’ll be courting soon.”
“Dwarvish courting rituals?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows. “I must say, I’m impressed. Show me the bead.”
You pulled it out of its pouch and handed it to the wizard, who smiled a knowing smile once he examined it.
“I thought that claddagh ring might come in handy, although I must admit, not for this exact purpose.” He noted, smug. “Congratulations! Well, onto the…other matters at hand…Laketown seems to be rather in-tact, does it not?”
“Yeah, that, um…just happened. Smaug got me in the leg, one thing came to another, and he breathed fire at us, but I…stopped it? I think. With a…well, with like a force-field. A bubble around me and the others.”
“Oh…very interesting indeed…” Gandalf thought on this for a moment, inhaling from his pipe before letting the smoke tumble from his lips. “That is something I did not foresee.”
“I think it…weakened Smaug. It was like I stole his fire.” Your voice came out soft and uncertain. “That’s probably why…”
“Very possible.” He nodded. “Well, I suspect that soon, the Master and the rest of the town will be here, demanding their pay.”
“You don’t think that’ll change?”
“I doubt it. And Thranduil and his forces are on their way as well. It seems the Battle of Five Armies is still coming.”
You were quiet for a long time. “Um…Gandalf…”
His voice softened when he saw the look on your face. “Yes, my dear, what’s wrong?”
“I can save him, right? That’s why I’m here? To save them?” You asked, your voice catching.
Gandalf reached across the table, letting his hand settle on top of yours. “I picked you for a reason, (Y/N). I would not have chosen you if I didn’t believe it could be done. And now that you are here…you are not alone. I think you know that.”
You nodded. You blinked and a tear slipped down your cheek.
“You know what they say, my dear, love is unpredictable. It seems you’ve recently learned just how powerful it can be.”
“Thank you.”
He gently wiped the tear from your cheek. “Don’t thank me yet. Celebrate with the dwarves. Celebrate with your beloved. You’ve earned it. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
***
Gandalf spoke with the rest of the company briefly before leaving, you assumed, to see where the elves were setting up camp, if they really were that far in their journey. You hoped you’d at least get a few days of peace before the war broke out. You needed it.
Bombur cooked up one hell of a dinner and Dori had gone digging through the wine cellars to find something extra special for the company to celebrate with. Oin had changed your bandages once, but when he did, he noticed that your wound had already mostly closed up. You were going to be just fine. Well, physically anyway.
You’d changed into the dress you’d gotten in Laketown, the green one embroidered with purple wildflowers, not unlike the ones Kili had given you.
“You look lovely.” Fili complimented. “Is that the one from the market?”
“It is.” You smiled and did a little spin. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
“Take a look for yourself.” Fili motioned tilted his head towards his brother on the other side of the room, staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fili’s hand touched your shoulder before he walked off with Bofur and Dwalin to get everything ready for the feast.
Kili walked to you, staring up at you in awe. He gently touched the fabric of your dress. “Is this new? I’ve never seen you wear this before.”
“I got it in Laketown.” You confirmed. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, Amrâlimê, I love it.” He brushed the loose hairs out of your face, and pulled yours down to his, kissing you gently. “Emerald green happens to be my favorite color.”
“It does?”
“Well, it’s my second favorite color.” He admitted, his voice soft. “My first favorite is the color of your eyes.”
Your heart welled with warmth and your lips crashed against his once more, his kiss stealing the air from your lungs until you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. So, laughing, the two of you joined the others for the celebration.
You all settled in the dining hall Gandalf had taken you to. Some of the dwarves had cleaned up a bit, dusting areas where you’d be eating. Balin got some of the torches going to bring light to the place. It was so big. The ceilings were impossibly high, the walls carved into green marble. It was a place that had been expertly crafted by the most talented architects around, you were sure of it. There was care and skill put into every detail.
“Would you like some wine, Book Keeper?” Dori asked, a bottle in his hand.
“Just a little this time. I think we all remember what effect alcohol has on me.”
The others laughed softly. You were in the seat beside Kili’s and he kept resting his hand on your thigh beneath the table, the warmth of his hand causing similar warmth to pool in your stomach.
“You two look rather glowing this evening.” Fili smirked. “Any news you’d like to share with the rest of us?”
“Ah, yes.” Kili cleared his throat and the chattering dwarves all sat at attention. “Uncle, if I may…”
“Please do.” Thorin nodded his head, expectant.
“Our beautiful Book Keeper has presented me with a courting bead.” Kili said, his hand slipping into yours. “And I have obviously accepted her proposal because…she is my One. We’ll begin our courtship after tonight’s feast.”
The company burst into cheers and applause that echoed off of the walls of the dining hall.
Thorin reached to his nephew, putting a hand atop Kili’s. “Congratulations, nephew.” He looked to you. “And congratulations, (Y/N).”
“Thank you, your highness.” You nodded your head.
“No, no more titles.” Thorin shook his head. “You are one of us now. You can refer to me as Thorin, if you wish.”
You knew in your heart that he was right. This was your family. These were your people. And now, more than ever, you were honored to be surrounded by them.
“Tomorrow, we’ll have a meeting discussing further steps and the things to come, but tonight, we have much to celebrate.” Thorin announced.
The feast that followed was perhaps the best celebration you’d experienced with them thus far. Some of the dwarves got very intoxicated, including Ori, who was laying on the floor in front of the fireplace, mumbling something about cheese. Fili and Kili had a few drinks together, but Kili had stopped drinking before the others to prepare for what was to come.
Fili, Gloin, and Dori left for a while at some point and when they returned, Fili whispered something to his brother who laughed and thanked him. After a while, everything seemed to calm down. Some of the dwarves wandered the halls to find a place to sleep, and Kili took that as his opportunity to escort you to the bedrooms.
In a place the size of Erebor, there were countless bedrooms, but Kili led you down the halls to what you felt was a very sacred place, lit with torches. And along the floor, there was a trail of wildflower petals, not unlike the kind Kili had given you, leading into one of said bedrooms.
“These are the rooms set aside for the royal family.” Kili explained, kissing your hand. “The one at the end of the hall is for the king. The one next door is the one set aside for Fili because he is the heir, and this one has been prepared for us.” He pushed open the door, and led you inside, closing the door behind you.
The flower petals trailed to the edge of the king-sized bed, which had been dusted and dressed with fresh bedding. The entire room was clean. There was a pair of large closets carved into the wall, a large window with a bench seat beneath it, a large desk and a giant bookshelf. The torches were lit, casting the room in warm firelight, although you could imagine just how stunning it would be once the sun came up and started streaming through the windows.
On the desk, there was a vase filled of the wildflowers Kili had picked for you, their colors still as beautiful and vivid as when he’d first presented them to you.
“Do you like it?” He asked, searching your eyes.
“It’s perfect, Kili.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand. You reached into your bag and pulled out the pouch containing the courting bead. “How do we do this?”
He grinned, cheeky. “What, the other’s didn’t tell you the specifics?”
You smirked. “Let’s just say I’m a hands-on learner.”
Kili pulled you in for a kiss, his lips a little firmer now than they had been during your previous kisses, a hand wandering into your hair. While your lips were on his, he tugged you to the bed by your hips and the two of you sat on its edge side by side. He lingered for a long moment before pulling away to reach into his pocket.
Very carefully, he presented his courting bead. It was a little thinner than the one you’d made for him, a more intricate band with a swirling silver design, some leaves carved into the precious metal. In the center of it, was a beautiful glimmering emerald cut into an oval. You gasped when you saw it. Kili had obviously been working on this for quite some time.
You immediately teared up. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you think so.” Kili rested his forehead against yours, his lips mere inches away. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Amrâlimê. I’m sorry all of this has taken so long. If I could do it all over again, I’d have told you the way I felt that first night in the Shire. I have wasted so much time unable to kiss you. And oh, how I have wanted to kiss you.”
You kissed him, your movements long and slow. You felt him smile against you before you mumbled, “That makes two of us.”
“Until recently, I didn’t know that the men of your kind were supposed to initiate courting—sorry, dating." He admitted. “Fili um…”
“I know. He told me.” You chuckled.
Kili laughed sheepishly. “Oh.”
“There’s no real hard and fast rule, but generally speaking, it usually is the men that make the first move.” You told him, a thumb rubbing his cheek. “I don’t mind waiting, though. I’m pretty patient. And the flowers you picked for me are very beautiful.”
“So it starts with flowers. What comes after?”
“It doesn’t always start with flowers, but they are definitely a good way to tell someone you’re interested. After that, they usually ask you on a date. They’ll take you somewhere, a restaurant or a theater or somewhere more creative than that. They might hold your hand or kiss you. If the date goes well, you usually plan another one.”
He smiled, his eyes exploring yours. “That sounds fun.”
“It is sometimes.”
“And then what?”
“And then, after a handful of dates, they ask you to be their partner, their boyfriend or girlfriend. And you keep going on dates and getting to know eachother. Sometimes you move in together, sometimes you wait. And after a long while, they propose.”
“Propose…?”
“Right. Um, they propose a marriage engagement. A betrothal, I guess you would call it.”
“Ah.” He smiled, nodding as he took in the information. “Well, I will need more details on how to properly do that when the time comes.” Kili took your hands. “But for now, I’m going to teach you how to do courtship braids.”
Kili fetched a brush from the desk and returned to you, gently brushing the tangles out of your hair. “Now, the courtship braids are typically done to mirror one another, so that when we’re standing side by side, they’ll be next to each other.” He told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your neck.
You flushed at his warmth, at the softness of his lips against your tender skin. “That’s romantic.”
“It is.” He agreed. “Which side would you like yours on?”
“The right.”
Kili began to very expertly braid the hair on the right side of your head. It was something similar to the French braids you’d done as a girl, although it didn’t incorporate all of your hair. It sat in the middle of the hair on the right side of your head, some hair in front of and behind it. Once he reached the ends of your hair, he secured it with the courting bead he had spent so long crafting.
And then, you did the same to him, on the left side of his head. He talked you through the process with encouragement and soft laughter, and at the end, you decided it looked pretty good. Kili helped you secure it in a way that would ensure it wouldn’t come out. The bead looked good against his dark hair, contrasting well.
Once it was in place, Kili cupped your face in his warm, calloused hands, touching his nose to yours. He exhaled a long breath.
“I love you, (Y/N).” He said the words slowly, significantly. They sat heavy on his tongue. He gazed into your eyes. “I want to build a life with you and now that we’re here…it finally feels real.”
“I know what you mean,” you whispered. “I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”
You knew then that the two of you were sitting in the eye of the storm, that in a few days or maybe longer, there would be elves and men and orcs at the front gates of Erebor, ready for battle. You didn’t know what the future held, not for certain. But you knew as long as you lived, you would always love Kili, whether or not you got to spend that time by his side.
You had loved Kili since he was mere paper and ink to you, you loved him now that he was flesh and blood and warmth, and you would love him forever, even if he was just a distant memory.
And so, you kissed him with a little more passion that night, held him a little tighter in your arms, relished in the feeling of his skin against yours, his hair between your fingers, and his lips slotted to your own. You loved him like it was your last night together, and for all you knew, it was.
***
The next morning, sun streamed through the window, casting the room in color and light. By the time you opened your eyes, Kili was still asleep on the pillow beside you, deep snores rumbling from his lips and one of his thick arms around your waist. His courting bead glistened in his braid, the only one adorning his soft hair.
You admired him for a long, quiet moment. He looked so peaceful. Your handsome prince. You pondered it for a bit, what your wedding might look like. What your life together would look like after. The details were fuzzy and uncertain, but your heart ached to know, to get that chance when all the dust had settled.
His face did look rather human, you supposed, taking his face into consideration now that you finally had a good, long, intimate look at it. The others in the company, aside from maybe Thorin and Fili, all had a very different look about them, something more distinctly dwarvish that you couldn’t put a finger on. Perhaps it was their noses. But Kili…if he were a little taller, he’d fit seamlessly into your own realm, you were sure.
You laughed internally at the thought. You weren’t sure what Kili would think of your realm, in all honesty. It was quite different than the one you had spent the last several months in, that was for sure.
Kili stirred, blinking a few times before his eyes truly settled on you, bathed in sunlight on the pillow in front of him. He smiled.
“Good morning.” He whispered, his voice impossibly deep with sleep. He reached up to brush the stray hairs out of your face. “You know, I had quite the dream last night.”
“Whatever might it have been about?”
“It had something to do with…you and I…” He murmured, scooching closer, his arms pulling you so close to him that you now shared just one pillow, mere inches between your faces. His leg slotted between your legs and his lips did not hesitate to begin exploring your own.
You smiled against him, a hand wandering into his hair to keep his face close to yours while the other found itself curled against his hairy chest. He deepened the kiss, drawing a hum from the depths of your throat.
He stopped to look at you.
“You know, I think I had the same dream.” You told him, eyes scanning every detail of his face, committing it all to memory. You wanted to remember this, how you felt in this exact moment, the honeymoon-like bliss of this first morning.
“Really…” He murmured in mock shock. “How strange.”
“Very.” You giggled a bit before finally confessing, “Kili, is now a bad time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you since I was twelve?”
His face lit up, that youthful smile you’d fallen in love with quick to overtake his features. “I knew it!” He laughed triumphantly. “I knew there was something in your eyes that night. That’s why you recognized me before you recognized the others.”
You smiled, coy. “Perhaps.”
He stole another long kiss.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” You smirked.
He grinned, mischievous. “Pshh, me? Never. But I don’t think it’ll come as a shock to the others that I’ve been your favorite dwarf since the very beginning. You’re not very good at hiding it, you know.”
“Really. Good to know; I’ll have to make more of an effort, then.”
He touched the tip of his nose to yours. “Well…I wouldn’t worry about hiding it too much. I think they can handle the news. They’ll just have to accept the fact that I’ve won the race to your heart.”
“There wasn’t anyone else in the running. It’s only ever been you.”
Kili smirked, kissing you one last time before saying, “I know.”
The two of you got dressed for the day and walked down to breakfast together, hand in hand. Bilbo perked up at the sight of you, smiling warmly when he saw your matching braids tied with matching beads.
“Good morning, lovebirds.”
“Morning, Bilbo.”
“Sleep well?” The hobbit asked innocently, sipping a cup of tea.
Gloin chuckled and muttered, “I’m not sure they did much sleeping, lad,” which caused said hobbit to promptly choke on said tea.
You laughed and sat down in the spot you’d been sitting the night previous, beside Kili, who got you each a serving of food. By now, he knew all of your favorites by heart. He set the plate in front of you and punctuated it with a long kiss on your cheek. Now this you could get used to.
It was so nice to have everything out in the open, not that it had been that much of a secret before. Now there was just one last challenge to conquer, that of your lover’s impending doom.
The rest of the dwarves trickled in slowly, grabbing some breakfast before taking a seat at the long table. Thorin was the last of them and he looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark bags beneath his eyes, a slowness to his step. He sat at the end of the table all at once. It could have been the new environment causing this, you reasoned. An unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar peace and quiet that he hadn’t been accustomed to on the road. There was, however, a little voice in the back of your head that warned of what would happen to Thorin because of all of the gold in that seemingly endless treasure room.
You’d forgotten about it until now, and you deeply hoped you were wrong.
Your concerns subsided a bit when he noticed the beads in yours and Kili’s hair and smiled, proud of his nephew. Thorin was still in there. He could be reasoned with, you were sure. Although, you weren’t sure how long that would last.
Once he got some food, he started the meeting.
“So, Book Keeper, Smaug is dead. What comes next?”
You were quiet for a moment, figuring how best to word it. “So…they call it the Battle of Five Armies.”
“Battle…?” some of the dwarves murmured.
“The five armies being the dwarves, the men of Laketown, the elves of Mirkwood, and two groups of orcs, or, in some interpretations, the orcs and their wargs. It’s…well, it’s not good. First, the men and the elves will come. The men will want compensation for slaying Smaug, and also the gold they were promised while we were in town. The elves come because…well, because Thranduil wants pretty elvish gems or something…”
Thorin nodded. “The white gems. I am familiar.”
“Right. And the orcs come because…they’re orcs. I don’t really know their motivation other than the fact that they crave violence. When the orcs arrive, the elves and men aid us in the battle, but there are…casualties.” You said the word carefully, trying to hide how much it hurt. You knew Kili noticed, though. Sometimes, you swore he felt your emotions.
“Are there more dwarves than just us, lass?” Dwalin spoke up, leaning against the table as he weight the information you were presenting.
“Yes. I believe you call for your cousin, Dain and his forces. They arrive and they do fight alongside everyone else.”
“I’ll send for him today, then.”
You nodded. “That would probably be a good idea, yeah. Um, Gandalf said he was going to check on the status of things, to see where the elves were, I think.”
Thorin was quiet for a moment before asking the one question you were fearing. “And what of the Arkenstone? Is it here?”
“It is here. Somewhere. I’m not sure exactly where though. The book tends to skim over details like that sometimes.” It wasn’t technically a lie. You didn’t know where it was, although you did have a pretty good estimate…
Thorin nodded, his face serious. He thought for a long moment. “We’ll need to get the forges going as soon as possible, ready armor and weapons for battle. The bedrooms and kitchens will need to be prepared. We are about to have several guests…”
The king beneath the mountain designated roles to the party to prepare the place for war. Balin stayed at the table to ask you further questions.
“So what are we to do when they arrive at the gates, lass?” He quieted his voice despite the fact that the king had gone down to the treasure room with his nephews to look for the Arkenstone. “Would Thorin not have honored his promise?”
“He, um…” You shook your head. “Things are going to get weird around here. He succumbs to dragon sickness; it clouds his judgement. He breaks his promise to the men and hesitates to join the fight at all, despite the fact that his people are out there fighting the attacking orcs. I’m hoping we can steer him otherwise this time around, but…it might be difficult to break through to him.”
“If anyone can, I’m sure it’s us.” Balin nodded. His face fell, though, before he asked the next question on his mind. “And these…casualties?”
You were quiet for a long, long moment. You opened your mouth to speak, but instead, you burst into tears.
“Oh, lass…” Balin stepped closer, putting an arm around you to comfort you.
You flipped to the page in the book and handed it to Balin, marking the second time ever someone other than you had gotten a glimpse inside of it, and at that same section, too. Balin read it silently and nodded, solemn.
“I feared as much.”
“It’s…that’s the reason I’m here at all.” You finally admitted, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Balin offered you a handkerchief. “When Gandalf came to me…that was my end of the deal, the promise that I could…change things. Save him. Save all of them.” You took a shaking breath. “It’s not written in that part, but…Thorin doesn’t make it either…”
“Mmm…” Balin hummed, his voice low. “Does anyone else know?”
“Bilbo does.” You confessed. “He, um…found me crying about it in Laketown the night before we left. But that’s it. Just you two. And Gandalf, obviously.”
“I wouldn’t tell the lads.” He advised, his voice trembling the smallest bit. “I think it would make them nervous. Could make it worse.”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but…Kili knows there’s something going on. I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide it from him.”
“He loves you.” Balin nodded. “And I know you love him, too. And I know how much it must have hurt you to carry it this long. But I will not let that happen to either of them and I know you will not either. We saw what happened with the dragon…maybe there’s a way to bring that power in you out again.”
You nodded, considering it. “That’s actually a really good idea.”
Balin rested his hand atop yours. “We’ll figure it out, lass.”
***
Later that day, the dwarves congregated on the training grounds to brush up on battle skills. Kili had spent most of the afternoon readying the archery range while the others sharpened weapons and reinforced shields. Thorin was the only one not present. He was still searching the treasure room for that damn Arkenstone.
Balin had informed the others of the plan, to awaken that magic inside of you again, so they were all brainstorming methods of doing so.
“Maybe it has to do with the fire.” Nori suggested. “The fire of the dragon oncoming.”
“Perhaps…” Balin nodded.
“Worth a try.” You agreed.
“Here goes.” Gloin shrugged, preparing a flaming torch.
Kili’s eyes widened, stepping between you and the flame. “Now wait just a second, are we sure this is the best way to figure it out?”
“The lad is right.” Oin nodded. “There was real danger involved with the dragon. Perhaps it’s the intensity of the battle that sets her off.”
“No!” Kili protested. “Does anyone have any ideas that do not involve hurting my beloved?”
The others laughed, thinking for a moment.
Dwalin had a mischievous look on his face. “I have a theory.” Then, out of nowhere, he threw a dagger at Kili.
Without even thinking, your hand shot out in front of you and before the dagger made contact with Kili, it bounced away, defying the laws of physics as though it had hit a bubble, clattering to the ground moments later.
Everyone stood there in shock, staring at you and Kili and your outstretched hand.
“Oh.” You said softly, lowering your arm and staring at your palm.
“The lass wasn’t the only one in danger that day, remember.” Dwalin crossed his arms, smirking proudly. “She’s a protector, whether she’s realized it or not.”
“She’s been protecting us with her knowledge all this time.” Balin agreed with his brother and took your hand. “And now, you’ve found a magic of your own.”
“And I intend to use it.” You told the rest of them. “I came all this way. We all did. I’m…I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you. This battle is the reason I’m here; the rest of it was just the icing on the cake.”
“We trust you.” Fili said, meeting your eyes. “We all do.”
Your heart ached. It was still scary, thinking of the oncoming battle and everything it could cost if you didn’t succeed. But this power inside of you, this love you held for the company, you knew it wouldn’t let you down. You knew you wouldn’t let them down.
You couldn’t.
***
That night, you didn’t get very much sleep. It started with a nightmare. Your subconscious had chosen this exact moment to remind you that you had watched the extended edition of the Battle of Five Armies once. Seeing Kili lifeless and pale, laying on that stone slab, lit by gentle flickering lights…You’d all but forgotten what their funeral had looked like. You wish you’d never remembered.
You woke with a start, sitting straight up and breathing heavy, trying to clear the image from your mind. There would be no funeral. It was fine. Everything was fine. Except, that didn’t seem to stop the tears from flowing.
Kili was still sleeping. You didn’t want to wake him; he’d need his rest for the days to come. So, you slipped out of the bed as quietly as you could and walked through the halls to the kitchens. Dori had been kind enough to organize all of the tea and polish some of the teapots. You put on a kettle and waited for the water to boil.
You heard footsteps coming down the hall and wiped at your tears, partially expecting it to be Kili. You were surprised, however, when it was Bofur that came through the doorway.
“I knew I heard someone in here. Thought you might be my brother.” He chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nightmare.” You told him, shrugging when the kettle started to scream. You pulled it off of the hot burner and switched off the heat, pouring yourself a cup of hot water and beginning to steep some Chamomile in it.
“Ah…Sorry to hear that, lass.” He nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I kind of…can’t. It’s about the days to come…” You sighed. “Specifically about the worst possible outcome.”
“I see.” Bofur hummed. “Well, if it is what I think it is…I don’t foresee it happening. You’ve kept us out of trouble. This too will pass.”
You nodded, sniffling. “I’m just scared. I know I can do it, especially after training today, but…if I fail…”
“Right.” He nodded. “I had nightmares before we left home, you know. Us dwarves…we all pretend to be so fearless, but I was very afraid we wouldn’t make it here. That it would all be for nothing. I know you fear…losing him. But I think he fears losing you too, lass. Sometimes, fear is all that’s keeping us alive.”
You were quiet for a long moment, letting it sink in. Bofur was right. “You’re wiser than the others give you credit for, you know.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well…you pick up some things in your travels.”
You sipped your warm tea.
“The courting braid suits you.” He noted. “Do you mind if I take a closer look at the bead Kili made?”
“I don’t mind.” You lifted the braid from your shoulder and presented it to him so he could see.
Bofur’s eyes scanned the bead and he smiled. “I saw him working on it on the boat to Laketown. I don’t think he knew then that you had plans of making one at all.” He chuckled. “I could tell he was getting desperate to tell you how he felt.”
“Oh yeah. He had Fili ask me for human courting rituals.”
“Now that, I did not know.” Bofur laughed. “Hence the wildflowers, I presume.”
“Yeah, exactly.” You giggled, taking another sip of tea.
Another set of footsteps trekked down the hallway, this time coming from the direction of the royal chambers. Sure enough, it was Kili. He looked relieved when he found you.
“There you are, Amrâlimê.” He walked into the kitchen. “Are you alright? Why did you leave?”
“I had a nightmare.” You confessed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Have you been crying?” He noticed your tearstained cheeks as he got closer, his warm fingers slotting into their place along your jaw.
“A bit.” You nodded.
“Come back to bed.” He whispered, kissing your nose. His other hand slipped into yours and squeezed.
“Okay.” A tear slipped down your cheek and he was quick to wipe it away, leading you back down the halls to your shared room after the two of you bid a final goodnight to Bofur.
Kili closed the door behind you and walked to the bed, pulling the covers open for you. You settled back onto the comfortable mattress, laying on your side.
“Now, what is it that has you so worked up, my love?” He whispered, an arm settling around your waist. “You’ve been crying a lot lately, haven’t you?”
You responded with more tears, crawling into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tight, doing his best to comfort you with his touch.
“Oh, hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re alright.” He said, his voice soft and sincere. “You don’t have to tell me if it hurts too much. Is it nightmares about spiders?”
“No…” You shook your head, your voice muffled by the fabric of his sleep shirt.
“Goblins? Smaug?”
“No.”
“Mmm, so something very scary, then?”
You took a shaking breath. “The scariest thing I can imagine.”
“Hmmm…” He hummed thoughtfully, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Do you want to know what the scariest moment of this trip has been for me?”
“What?”
“When that goblin king hoisted you into the air by the ends of your hair, dangling you above the rest of us, threatening to torture you right in front of me mere hours after I’d finally gotten to hold you in my arms for the first time.” He shook his head. “And the second was when that accursed dragon hurt you and started threatening you. My worst nightmare…is losing you.”
You took a shaking breath, pulling away so you could look into his eyes, bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window.
“I put the pieces together a while ago.” His voice shook. “I know…I’m not meant to survive the battle. In the story you read growing up, anyways.”
A tear rolled from your eye and your breath caught in your throat. “Kili…”
“I thought it might be the dragon that got me. I didn’t know there would be…more danger after.” His thumb expertly swiped your tear away. “And I don’t blame you for not telling me. But I’m not scared. Not of that.”
“Why?”
“It’s like you told Smaug. My ending is getting a rewrite, and I trust you with the pen.” He touched his nose to yours. “The way I see it, I know for certain I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, whether I have two more days or two more centuries.”
You kissed him, your lips salty with tears, and his moving gently against yours. “I love you.” You sobbed.
“I know you do.” He kissed you again before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. His lips gently pecked the top of your head and he held you tight as you cried against him. “I love you too.”
***
The next day was the day Dain’s forces arrived. Thorin and the others escorted the new dwarves into Erebor and they began preparing for war, forging weapons, adjusting armor, training battle skills. Sometime in the early afternoon, Thranduil, Bard, and their armies arrived at the front gate.
You sat nearby, hidden within the walls, listening as Thorin and the dwarves heatedly debated with them. Thorin refused to give up his treasures, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the dragon sickness or if he knew they’d need their help when the orcs arrived the following day.
“Dwarves, I know you are hiding your precious little Book Keeper within those walls.” Thranduil’s arrogant voice echoed from the back of his reindeer to your very ears.
Your eyes went wide, heart racing as you listened.
“Bring her to me for a…discussion, or we begin our attack immediately.”
“Thranduil, this is madness.” You heard Bard rebuttle.
“Madness or not, I would like a glimpse into the future as well. I believe it’s only fair.”
“You’ll not have a single word with her!” Thorin shouted.
“Thorin…” Balin reasoned. “Let’s think about this.”
“What is there to think about?” Kili joined the conversation. “She is my beloved, not a bargaining piece.”
You stood up and walked to the dwarves. “I’ll go.”
Kili turned around and shook his head. “No. Amrâlimê, who knows what he wants with you? There has to be another way.”
“Maybe I can reason with them, get them all on the same page about the battle.” You tilted your head and reached into your bag, pulling out the book and handing it to Kili. His eyes widened. He’d never touched it before, let alone been entrusted with its wellbeing. “Look after this until I get back, okay?”
Kili took the book and nodded, his eyes serious. You leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to his lips before walking through the front gates. And while you were distracting the rest of the party, Bilbo was able to slip away unnoticed as well.
Thranduil looked over you with curious eyes. They were almost unnaturally blue, celestial. His hair was long, platinum blond like his son’s had been that brief moment you saw him. “Come, child.” He held out his hand and you took it, allowing him to pull you onto the back of his reindeer and take you to the ruins of Dale, where the elves and the men were camped together.
When you got to the tent where the leaders had been planning, you were pretty surprised to find Gandalf already there.
“Book Keeper, I apologize for the elf king’s…brashness. He did not believe me that you existed.” Gandalf apologized.
“It’s okay.” You assured him.
“So, tell me Book Keeper. How is it you are able to tell the future of our world? And how were you able to sneak through my palace unnoticed?”
“I have a book about the dwarves’ adventure from my realm. Where I’m from, all of this is a work of fiction. That’s how I know what’s going to happen.” You told him. “And I didn’t sneak through unnoticed. I was actually spotted by several of your guards. They all thought I was an elf, including your son.”
Thranduil stared at you with those weird, big blue eyes. He looked kinda pissed, but he was graceful about it.
“She speaks the truth.” Bard said, his eyes grateful. “Without her warning, Smaug would have burned Laketown to splinters. I was able to shoot him down before he even reached the edge of town because she told me exactly where and how and with what to shoot him. It worked.”
“I’m glad I could help.” You told him.
“She means well, Thranduil.”
“I will be the judge of that.” The elven king tilted his head, his voice cool and emotionless. “Tell me, Book Keeper, do you know why I am here?”
“You want the white gems in Erebor.”
“They belong to me.”
“That seems to be subjective.” You replied.
“How dare you, you insolent girl—”
“Thranduil, please.” Gandalf calmed him.
“What of the men, then?” Thranduil challenged, crossing his arms.
“The dwarves promised them gold in exchange for the weapons we were gifted in Laketown.” You replied. “And Thorin is being…stubborn on the matter, admittedly.”
“I have tried to argue that your tip about Smaug and the value of his hide outweighs the dwarves’ debt.” Bard informed you. “My people are being stubborn about it as well.”
“No, they’re right. Thorin should pay you for everything you all did for us. I can try to convince him, but I’m not sure he’ll budge.” You shared a look with Gandalf that told the wizard everything he needed to know.
“There is a larger problem at stake here, is there not, Book Keeper?” Gandalf pushed. “Larger than sums of gold or indebted jewels.”
“There are orcs coming. They’ll be here tomorrow. If we don’t all band together to fight them, to finish them off, they will not stop until all of Middle Earth is conquered, all of your people killed.” You told them.
“Why should I believe a word you say?” Thranduil’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes settled in your hair. “How do I know this is not a distraction to pull my focus from what matters to me? Is that not a dwarven courting bead braided into your hair? Your interests are vested.”
“I do have a vested interest in the dwarves; of course I do. They’re my best friends, my family. One of them is the love of my life. But I have a vested interest in the rest of Middle Earth, too. I grew up on the stories of this place, stories about you, about your son, Legolas and the amazing things he’ll accomplish someday. But if the world is overrun by orcs, I don’t think any of that will happen. Sure, in the short term, the dwarves and the men would get wiped out and you’d be able to hide in Mirkwood, but you wouldn’t be able to hide forever. They’ll get you eventually and it will have all been for nothing, your eternal life wasted when you could have changed the outcome.”
Thranduil was quiet for a long moment, processing your monologue. “And say I do help you…Will you guarantee I am given what I am owed?”
“You have my word.”
Bilbo appeared in the entrance of the tent, tucking his ring into his pocket. “I’ve brought some…insurance that Thorin will pay after the Battle.”
“Bilbo?” Gandalf raised his eyebrows.
“Hello, Gandalf.” Bilbo reached into his coat and presented the Arkenstone, at which Bard’s eyes widened. “Thorin values this gem more than anything. Surely if you present it to him, he will give you what he’s promised in return.”
“How is this yours to give?” Bard murmured.
Bilbo shrugged. “I took it as my 14th share of the treasure in the mountain. With the guidance of a certain Book Keeper, of course.”
You looked from Thranduil to Bard. “Please.”
“If you can provide the women and children of Laketown safety during the battle, I swear every man will fight to the last breath.” Bard offered.
“Done.” You agreed.
Thranduil stared at the Arkenstone for a long, long while before meeting your eyes again. “Since it is orcs and not just dwarves we will be fighting…I’ll call for reinforcements.”
You exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”
“We have been collecting dragon hide from Smaug.” Bard added. “It seems only fitting to offer the dwarves some for armor.”
“Thank you, Bard. Also…do me a favor and pretend Bilbo didn’t give you the Arkenstone. Claim you…found it inside of Smaug’s remains…or something.” You asked. “It’ll save us all some trouble with the king under the mountain.”
“Done.” Thranduil nodded. “Now, my son will escort you back to Erebor, if you so please.”
Your eyes widened. “Um, sure. Thank you, your highness.”
Bilbo stuck around to talk to Gandalf for a moment while you walked outside the tent to find Legolas standing there with an amused grin.
“I saved you that dance.” He teased.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve actually…got a prince of my own waiting for me in Erebor.”
“Well, he is very lucky, then.” Legolas took your arm. He led you to his horse and helped you up onto the back of it. “I could not help but overhear that you’ve heard stories of me, where you’re from?”
“Yeah. About sixty years from now, you kind of save the world. It’s pretty awesome.”
“Mmm.” Legolas nodded, impressed. “Good to know. And I suppose you’ll be around to guide us then as well?”
“I hope so.”
The ride back to Erebor was rather short. Legolas dropped you off at the bridge, where Kili was pacing outside. He lit up when he saw you’d returned, rushing to you immediately and handing the book back to you.
“How did it go?”
“Really well, actually.” You told him, pressing your lips to his for a moment before asking, “Where’s your uncle?”
“He’s…in the treasure room.” Balin answered. “I’ll go fetch him.”
Kili walked with you back inside, his hand tight in yours. The dwarves all assembled in the throne room. Thorin, who was now wearing a large gold and silver crown on his head, sat on the throne carved from stone. He really did look the part, now.
“What did they say?” Thorin asked. “Negotiating for treasure, no doubt.”
“Partially. I told them of the orcs that are coming and…they’ve all agreed to help fight. Thranduil, in exchange for the white gems, and Bard in exchange for the gold they were promised in Laketown and the safety of their women and children during the battle.” You explained, heart racing as you watched the expression on Thorin’s face for any sign of anger. “Bard is also sending us pieces of Smaug’s hide to make armor from. They’ve been…dismantling the dragon.”
“Mmm…” Thorin hummed and then went quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Book Keeper, I must admit, I am quite impressed.” He nodded, a proud look on his face. “You will make a fine princess one day.”
“Thank you.” You exhaled in relief. “The orcs will be here tomorrow, rather early in the day. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Then we will spend all night preparing.” Thorin decided. “Dwarves, to your stations. We must prepare for war.”
***
Not long after your negotiation with the other camps, the women and children of Laketown came to the gates of Erebor. At Thorin’s request, you helped them get situated and comfortable. Being a human woman yourself, the king under the mountain knew you would be able to offer them some peace of mind.
You and Dori passed out blankets and pillows and food, making sure everyone got settled in the room Thorin had designated for them. It was tucked pretty far into the mountain, so he knew they’d be safe.
You spotted Sigrid and Tilda in there with their brother Bain, discussing something. Sigrid looked up and spotted you, smiling.
“Hey, glad you guys made it. Everything going okay?”
“We’re doing well,” Sigrid smiled. “Da said you warned him about the dragon. Thank you.”
“Yeah, of course. I…your whole town was so kind to us, I couldn’t imagine letting it happen without giving you some kind of warning.” You told her, handing the girls some blankets.
“What’s that bead in your hair?” Tilda asked, pointing to the silver band holding your braid together. “It’s new, right?”
“It’s a courting bead, from Kili.” You told her, smiling.
Sigrid gasped, excited. “Does that mean that you’re finally together?”
“At long last.” You confirmed, giggling. “Yeah, he’s…he’s amazing.”
“Is that him?” Tilda pointed to the doorway and sure enough, Kili was standing there, scanning the crowd for you.
You thought it was kind of funny. Among the dwarves, you’d always stood out like a sore thumb. You were the tallest of the company, just barely taller that Dwalin, and therefore, you’d been easy to spot among them, but now, surrounded by your own kind, he had some trouble seeing you.
“Over here.” You waved, drawing his attention.
He entered the room, walking to you and taking your hand. After a moment, he recognized Bard’s kids and nodded in greeting. “If you don’t mind too much, I need to borrow our Book Keeper, get her fitted for some armor.”
“Of course.” Sigrid smiled. “Congratulations, by the way.”
Kili straightened up a bit when she said it, proud. “Thank you.”
As the two of you walked to the forges, where the others were hard at work, he pulled your hand to his lips for a kiss.
He grinned mischievously and glanced over at you. “You told them?”
“Of course I did. I’m very proud to be yours, my prince.” You said it kind of teasingly. With the other dwarves and elves and men in Erebor for the battle, the formalities were a bit more important now than they had been during the rest of the journey, bit it still felt weird addressing him with his title.
His cheeks reddened. “You don’t have to call me that, you know.”
You winked. “I know.”
“Uncle wants me to wear a crown.” He sounded annoyed talking about it. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel like the time for that.”
“Things will calm down after tomorrow. Reach some kind of normalcy.”
“I hope you’re right.”
You shrugged. “I usually am. It’s part of my job.”
He chuckled and shook his head at you. The two of you walked into the armory, where Dwalin was anxiously waiting for you, large pieces of Smaug’s hide waiting on a table in front of him.
“Woah…” You murmured, looking at it. “That is…wild.”
“It’s quite tough. We tested some weapons against it and most of the blades can’t pierce it.” Dwalin agreed. “Our prince here has requested that your armor be made from it.”
“Oh.” You looked over at Kili. “He has, has he?”
He took your hand with both of his, pulling it to his chest and looking up at you with those warm brown eyes. “I want you to be protected, Amrâlimê. You insist on fighting alongside us tomorrow and I know I cannot change your opinion on it, but I need to know you’ll be safe.”
“I want you to be safe, too.”
“We’re reinforcing the company’s armor as well, at Thorin’s request.” Bofur informed you from the next stall over, holding a weapon so hot it was glowing bright red.
“Good.” That did make you feel quite a bit better.
“I need your measurements, lassie. Thought you might be more comfortable if your beloved did it.” He handed Kili a tape measure and a pad of paper and winked at the dwarf prince, who chuckled and walked with you to a more private corner.
It was sort of intimate in a weird kind of way, Kili taking measurements for your breastplate, the sleeves, the length of your shoulders. And when you were done, he relayed the information to Dwalin to make sure your armor would fit correctly.
Afterwards, the two of you left the armory.
“What does Thorin have you doing for the rest of the day?” Kili asked.
“I’m on Laketown duty with Dori. Making sure all the people are comfortable, bringing them food…”
“Mmm…” Kili nodded. “Do you have anything…pressing to be doing right now?”
“Not particularly.” You answered.
“Good.” Kili grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a small storage room in the hallway. He pushed you against the wall and crushed his lips to yours, passion in every movement. You always forgot how strong he was until moments like this.
You let his lips explore your own for a good long while, limbs mingling with each other’s bodies, your fingers wandering into his soft black hair. You knew you wouldn’t have many of these moments left. In fact, this might be your last one, so you made the most of it, kissing him in a way he wouldn’t soon forget. And once you each came down from the high of your love for one another, he spent a long, quiet moment admiring your features.
“I’ll never tire of that.” He whispered, gazing up at you. “Although, I hope that the moments we steal after the battle will last longer than this.”
You leaned down and kissed him, your lips soft and slow. He melted against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he stood on his toes to be able to reach them. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him to you. It wasn’t often the two of you embraced while standing, and it was made clear why almost immediately, as Kili’s face only reached your chest, but he didn’t seem to care, his arms tight around your waist.
You rested your head against his, exhaling a long breath and just letting him hold you for a moment. “It’s going to be a long, long night, my love…” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
He chuckled darkly. “It already is.”
“What does Thorin have you doing?” You asked.
“Weapon maintenance, mostly.” He shrugged. “He has Fili doing a lot more.” He looked up at you, fingers gently touching your courtship braid. “I sharpened your swords.”
Your heart just about melted. “Thank you.”
“I want to make you some new ones…when things settle, of course. Some daggers, too, if you want. I’m admittedly not a very good weaponsmith, but Dwalin’s offered to teach me. It’s a dwarf thing…crafting gifts for your One, especially while courting.”
You smiled. “That’s really sweet.”
“You think so?”
“I can’t wait to learn more. All of this is still new to me.”
“Of course it is…we dwarves love our secrets.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to each of your fingers, one by one. “And I cannot wait to tell you each and every single one of them.”
You nuzzled your nose against his. “That makes two of us.”
***
Once the sun set, the mothers started getting their children ready for bed, but many of them had trouble getting their kids to sleep. Gandalf wandered into the room, smoking his pipe. With him, he had a small red book tucked under his arm.
“Book Keeper,” he smiled, that familiar glimmer in his eye. “I’ve brought you another. Thought a story might help get the young ones to bed.”
“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” you read from the cover, chuckling. “Seems appropriate.”
Gandalf nodded. “Quite.”
You rounded up all the kids for a storytime and they sat expectantly in front of you, waiting for you to begin. “Now, this is a story from my realm. There are dwarves in it, sure, but they’re not a lot like the dwarves here in Middle Earth. Their names are a little silly; there’s one named Sneezy and another named Sleepy.” Some of the kids giggled at that.
“Is there a princess?” Asked a little voice.
“Of course there is. Her name is Snow White and she is the fairest in all the land.”
“How about a handsome prince? Is there one of those?” Fili’s voice asked from the back of the room, a smirk on his face.
“There does so happen to be a handsome prince, yeah.”
“Is he a dwarf?” Kili asked, taking a seat beside his brother.
“Unlike my own, no, he’s not, unfortunately.” You smirked at him. “Come here, you wanna help me read this?”
“I suppose I could.” Kili stumbled forward, getting a little push from his brother. “But only if I get to be Sneezy.”
You smiled as he sat beside you, looking over the cover of the little red book in your hand. As the two of you read the story to the children, alternating lines, he couldn’t help but do something he’d thought was impossible: somehow, he managed to fall even more in love with you.
***
After the kids were all asleep, Thorin called the company together one last time. You all stood in a circle, Gandalf finally with you all once again.
“Tomorrow is a fateful day for us all.” Thorin looked to each member of the group. He was wearing the crown of the king and looked extremely regal. He had been born for this, raised for it. You could only hope that you’d be able to protect the line of Durin when the battle finally arrived. Maybe it was the waiting that was the worst part.
You let out a sigh, closing your eyes. Kili took your hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Burglar, Book Keeper, thank you for everything you have done for us.” Thorin pressed his lips together. “This may be our last night as a company. I do not know what tomorrow holds for us, and for the sake of our confidence…” he made eye contact with you and you could tell that some part of him must have known, “I do not wish to have any more glimpses into our future.”
“Understood.” You nodded.
His closing words sent a chill down your spine. “Eat well. Get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow, we defend our home.”
You settled between Kili and Fili, managing to get some food down despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. It was rather quiet, given the volume you’d come to expect from the group assembled around you. One last night with them…one last night together before your new life in a still-strange land would get turned upside down for better or worse.
Some of the dwarves played instruments they had, turning to music even in their darkest moments. Bifur was sitting in the corner of the room, carving something out of wood with his knife. You leaned on Kili, your head resting against his. You felt the warmth of his arm around your waist.
Unsure of what else to do, really, you pulled out the book one last time and skimmed the words about the battle. But that was the problem: there wasn’t much. Bilbo passed out in the version in your hands, was unconscious for the majority of the action and only came to when Fili and Kili were already dead and Thorin was dying from his wounds. Not particularly helpful.
You shook your head and shut the book. You gazed into the flames for a very long time, considering chucking it in there and watching it get devoured, but you decided against it. For one, it was your only copy, and for two, you weren’t sure exactly what was tying you to Middle Earth and you didn’t want to risk getting yeeted away early. So, instead, you got up off of the floor and walked across the room, handing it to Gandalf.
“You may yet need this.” He said, his eyes twinkling with something unrecognizable.
“There’s not a lot about the battle in it…”
He looked rather surprised. “There’s not?”
You paused for a long moment. “Gandalf…do you not know what’s in the book?”
“I’ll admit, I don’t know the specifics, dear.” He chuckled and blew his pipe. “I know the big things, sure, but not every detail.”
You stared at him for another long moment. “Okay…interesting. Anyway…will you hold onto it for me? Just in case?”
“Ah. For safekeeping.” He nodded and took the book from you. “I will see that it is returned to you promptly after the battle.”
“Thank you.” You turned and walked back to where you had been sitting before, where Kili was anxiously waiting for you. Before you could settle into your original spot, he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a long kiss to your cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his warmth and the warmth of the fire.
You looked to each member of the company in attendance, the once-timid Bilbo, your future brother-in-law, the two who had taught you how to show Kili just how much he meant to you, the healer who had treated your dragon-inflicted wound, the quiet scribe who had been writing down every detail of the adventure. It went on and on. Each dwarf had put their own unique fingerprint on your heart.
Bifur walked up to you and muttered something in Khuzdul, handing you something small. When you examined it further, you found it to be a little wooden bird, the thing he had been carving the whole night.
“He said it’s for you, so you’ll remember him when you go back home.” Kili translated for you, his voice gentle and soft and a little sad.
“Oh, Bifur, it’s beautiful.” You choked back a sob and stood, hugging the gruff dwarf, who instantly returned the gesture. “I could never forget you.” You wiped your tears away. “I could never forget any of you. I’ll…I’ll treasure all of you for the rest of my life.”
You knew in your heart that was the truth. No matter what would unfold the next day, no matter where you wound up when it was all over, the company would live in your heart forever, you were sure. In fact, you didn’t think you could forget them if you wanted to. And you could only hope that when the battle came, you’d give them a reason to remember you, too.
***
When morning came, everyone was bustling through the lonely mountain, preparing for war. There was a nervous energy floating through the air. It was getting to you too. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart had been at its normal pace, but it had been racing all day.
Watching the dwarves armor up was surreal and haunting, especially watching Fili and Kili help each other into their armor. Dwalin carried your armor to you, glimmering and red, like the autumn leaves beyond the hills. You faltered, seeing it for the first time. Smaug had been evil, sure, but you couldn’t doubt the beauty in his scales. You could only hope they’d protect you now, that they’d protect all of you.
“Kili, get your beloved ready. The elf scouts have spotted something headed this way.” Dwalin called before leaving you to attend to other duties.
Kili immediately turned his attention to you, rushing over to help you into your armor. He guided your arms into the sleeves and fastened the straps in the back, his fingers moving quickly and expertly, securing it in place. It was pretty heavy, but you felt well-protected in it.
“How does that feel?” he asked, searching your face. “Too tight?”
“It feels good. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He nodded, his hand lingering in yours for a moment.
Tears welled in your eyes and his expression melted. He pulled your face down to his, resting his forehead against yours for a long moment. “Amrâlimê, I will be with you the entire time. Fili and I will not leave your side, I swear it.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will not let anything happen to you. None of us will.”
“I’m not worried about me.” Your voice broke and a tear slipped down your cheek.
His eyes met yours, his expression bittersweet. This was love, he felt it in his bones. Here, in the face of your first real battle, you were worried about him.
“Dwarves! Assume your stations!” Dain and his men walked briskly through the mountain, getting everyone ready.
You swallowed and closed your eyes, wiping at your tears and pulling away from Kili. Fili handed you your weapons, freshly sharpened and ready for battle, even if you weren’t.
“Nothing to worry about, Book Keeper,” the older prince reassured you, a hand on your shoulder and confidence in his voice. “We’ve got this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
You followed the rest of the company out of the mountain and onto the battlefield where, just as you’d predicted, the Orcs tunneled through the hills opposite you all, storming out in a mighty horde. Most were on foot, but some were on the backs of their wargs.
And thus, the battle began.
Because of your warnings in advance, there were forces ready in all the places you knew the Orcs were start, and more forces ready in the places the orcs would eventually reach. The elven archers took out a good number of them as they advanced, but more Orcs poured out of the tunnels and into the open field.
You followed Kili and Fili’s lead. They barely let any Orcs get to you, but the ones that did, you were quick to dispatch with your sword. It was intense, like everything was moving at two-times speed. You kept your eyes on the boys at all times, watching for anything that could possibly harm them. In the corner of your eye, you caught Thorin a few times and made sure he wasn’t getting hurt either.
You’d lost sight of Bilbo a long time ago, and the rest of the company was pretty well dispersed throughout the crowd.
“You…” A deep, gravelly voice hit your ears and your heart about leaped out of your chest.
Before you knew it, a large hand swung at you, taking you off of your feet. You skidded through the dirt, grimacing.
“(Y/N)!” Kili yelped, rushing towards you, but quickly pulled back by another large Orc.
“The little Book Keeper.” He laughed an awful laugh, towering over you in all of his horrific glory. “You do not belong here, human.”
“I keep hearing that, yeah.” You seethed, getting to your feet despite the blossoming bruises you could feel beneath your armor. “You must be Bolg.”
“In the flesh.”
“You didn’t hear about what happened to Smaug when he said that to me?” You asked, fire burning in your chest, tingling in your fingertips. “I’m wearing what’s left of him.”
“Confident for an Other Realmer. Such a shame to see it all go to waste for a miserable company of dwarves.” He chuckled. “Come with me instead. I could use your insight.”
“And just why the fuck would I do that?”
A blade pressed against your neck from behind, dangerously close to piercing the skin. You felt a strong, tree-like arm wrap around you and your feet left the ground. “In exchange for your life, perhaps?”
“NO!” Kili cried, killing three Orcs on his way to where you were standing, his brother beside him and his uncle not far behind.
Bolg paused, looking to where Kili stood, amused at the emotion on the dwarves’ face. He laughed cruelly. “This is more than concern for their prophet. This one loves you.”
Kili ran at Bolg, slicing through the armor on his thigh and piercing the skin. Bolg grabbed him by the neck and raised him up into the air to get a better look at him.
“And the prince, no less.” He plucked up Fili with his other hand, dangling both of them in the air in front of you, tiny and helpless, struggling against Bolg’s monstrous grip as he began slowly choking the life out of them. “The end of the line of Durin in my very hands.” He grinned, displaying his sharp teeth. “Tell me, girl, who will die first, the heir or the spare?”
“Neither.” You hissed, a hot tear winding down your face and that familiar, blistering power blooming inside you once more.
Thorin slayed the Orc holding you, and as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you thrust both of your hands forward at Bolg. The emotions poured out of your chest at the sight of Kili and Fili dying, their faces filled with pain, groans strained as he squeezed their vocal cords. The image of their funeral flashed in your mind one last time and something clicked inside you, unleashing hellfire upon Bolg and the rest of his wretched army.
For a moment, nothing happened, but then, a crater eroded in his chest, a blinding, golden light tearing him apart from the inside out. And in the same moment, the rest of the Orc army erupted into flame, the same fire you’d stolen from the dragon whose hide you were wearing as a chest plate.
“YOU WRETCHED LITTLE WITCHHHHH!” He hissed, dropping the brothers as he disintegrated before your very eyes, reduced to ash, his voice echoing into nothing, the only remnant that he had ever existed.
The battlefield went silent, the three remaining armies looking around after their opponents had literally disappeared while they watched. After the silence came their victorious cries. The battle was over, hardly any casualties had taken place aside from the attacking orcs.
You rushed to Kili, frantically checking him and his brother for injuries. “Kili! Oh my god. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Amrâlimê.” He assured you, his breathing heavy now that he was free. His voice was a little hoarse, but that seemed to be his only injury.
“Fili?”
The older prince smiled. “I’m okay, too.”
You exhaled a huge sigh of relief and looked back at Thorin, who nodded at you, uninjured. It felt like a million pounds lifted from your shoulders. They were alive. The battle was over and they were alive.
Another sigh pulled itself from your lungs and something shifted within you. You were dizzy, utterly exhausted. You swayed on your feet a bit, eyelashes fluttering.
“My love?” Kili whispered, concerned, his hand touching your arm.
“I’m okay,” you insisted before falling into his waiting arms, your legs giving out beneath you.
The dwarf prince lowered you to the ground gently, finding a soft patch of grass before he searched you for injuries. He didn’t see any blood, nowhere had your armor been pierced, and aside from a small cut on your cheek, you appeared to be fine. He pulled you into his lap, his arms cradling you.
Your breathing slowed, but your heart continued to race and tears were quick to begin trailing down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Bilbo rushed over to you, appearing from thin air. The rest of the company slowly assembled around you. “Did she…do that?”
“I don’t know.” You told him. “I feel…I don’t think I’m injured, I just feel…floaty.”
“Get the girl some water.” Oin insisted.
“I can’t find a wound on her.” Kili told the medic, his voice getting thick with tears and desperation. “Please, tell me what’s wrong with her.”
“You will find no injury, Kili.” Gandalf walked through the crowd of humans and elves and dwarves. “She is quite alright. This is…” He shook his head. “Well, this is the end of the spell I used to bring her here. The magic has all been spent.”
“Oh.” You murmured. It made sense when he said it. You could feel it, the fact that you were slipping.
“Well do something! There must be some spell to keep her here! Please!” Kili’s voice broke and his eyes left Gandalf’s meeting your own as he cradled you closer. “Please, I can’t lose her.”
“It’s okay, Kili.” You told him, your hand reaching up to brush his cheek, for once wiping his tears away. “I…I served my purpose. You’re alive. Fili and Thorin are alive. The line of Durin is safe. You’re safe. I…I wrote my own ending.”
You heard some sniffles among the group, namely from Balin and Bofur, but there were tears glimmering in the eyes of Dori and Ori and Bombur as well.
“You can’t leave us yet, lass.” Bofur said, taking off his hat and staring down at you. “Before the feast? Before the celebration?”
You laughed softly, looking up at the hobbit and each dwarf standing there. Your very best friends. Your family. Your heart already ached when you imagined just how much you’d miss them in your world without magic. “It’s bad timing, isn’t it? I…I’m not ready yet. I’m not ready to go…”
“Stay.” Kili whispered, pulling your face to his, his lips tasting of his salty tears as he kissed you. “Please, stay with me. Please.”
Part of you expected his kiss to be magical, to halt the sinking, floating feeling inside your chest. You expected True Love’s Kiss to save you at the end of your fairytale, but it couldn’t. It seemed nothing could.
“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, trying to sit up so you could embrace him better. “I’m so sorry, Kili.”
“It’s not your fault.” Kili shook his head, pulling you into a more upright position and pressing his forehead to yours.
You felt a tingling numbness in your fingers, and when you looked down at your hand, you found that they were disappearing, breaking into glowing silvery light and floating up into the cloudy sky. “No.”
You looked up at the company, at Thorin, the new king under the mountain, at Bilbo and Gandalf, and each of the others. “S-stay out of trouble, you guys. All of you. I love you so much and…I’m going to miss you for…well, for the rest of my life.”
“Book Keeper…” Thorin spoke, his voice going soft as he knelt down beside you and his nephew on the ground. “(Y/N)…If there ever is a day you come back, you will always have a place in our halls. I meant it when I said you would make a great princess and I mean it when I say it would have been an honor to have you as my niece.”
More tears slipped down your cheeks and you took the hand he offered you. “And it would have been an honor to have you as my uncle.”
Fili approached next, a weepy look on his face as he pulled you into a hug, the disappearance now working its way up to your elbow making it a bit more difficult. “Thank you. For saving my life.”
“You knew—”
“I figured it out.” He shrugged, lowering you back into his brother’s arms. “I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. For us. Take care of yourself. Find a new adventure.”
“You guys were the greatest adventure I’m ever going to get.” You looked up at the hobbit. “It’s going to be an amazing book, Bilbo. I should know, it’s the one I’ve been reading the whole time.”
Bilbo gasped, his eyes widening. “My book?”
“Why else would it be called The Hobbit where I’m from?” You chuckled. “Although, I bet your version will turn out bit different than the one I’m familiar with.”
“I would never leave out the best character.” Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek. “Although, I think I might write a happier ending for her, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I can’t wait to read it.” You looked up at Kili, who hadn’t stopped crying since he’d first started. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”
“No it’s not.” He shook his head. “I…I was supposed to be the one that didn’t make it. You…”
“I’m going to be okay.” You promised him, your nose resting against his.
“That makes one of us.” He murmured. “You are my One, my other half. I can’t imagine going on without you here with me. I don’t want to.”
“Someday, I promise you, we’ll see each other again. This isn’t the end for us.” You whispered, kissing him fiercely and he reciprocated immediately, his lips passionate against yours. You linked the pinkie that hadn’t disappeared yet with his own.
“Y-you said once…if something was meant for you to have, it would find you again.” He tightened his finger around yours until it started to disappear, too. “I swear to you, I will find you again.”
You nodded, whispering the words you’d been reciting in your mind for so long, just in case this was the outcome of your adventure after all. “I love you, Amrâlimê.”
You continued to vanish as the company watched. The last thing you felt of Middle Earth was a pair of lips against your own and the warmth of your lover’s arms around you.
And then everything went white.
***
When you opened your eyes, you were standing on your front porch in your pajama pants again. The sun shone bright in your eyes, birds chirping up in the trees, and the slightest breeze blowing through your hair.
You blinked a few times, looking around you to ground yourself. You were back home, except…it didn’t really feel like home anymore. You weren’t sure it ever would again.
Blinking away tears, you turned around and walked inside, half-expecting to wind up right back in Bilbo’s hobbit hole, but no, it was just your living room waiting on the other side of the threshold. You walked out the front door again, desperate, but had no luck. The only thing beyond that was your front porch again.
“No…” You mumbled, leaning against the wall before sliding down it, hiding behind your knees. “No, no, no…please…please! Take me back! Gandalf, please…”
You expected something magical to happen, for someone to appear from thin air and comfort you, but for the first time in about six months, you were left completely alone. It was the same day you’d left, only minutes after you’d first gone, and yet every moment you’d spent away was real and tangible. You remembered everything. Every hour of every day, the vast majority of them spent at Kili’s side.
The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and you feared they never would, not so long as you were locked out of Middle Earth.
As you sat there, questioning everything your life had become, you couldn’t help but question if it had really even happened at all. Maybe it had just been an intense hallucination. After all, nothing around you had changed. But then, you caught a glimpse of something glimmering in your hair.
Kili’s courting bead, the very one he had spent so long making for you, was still carefully braided into your hair.
And your heart broke all over again. It was real and so was he. And so was the little wooden bird tucked in your pocket, Bifur’s parting gift. You sat there with both of them for a long time, staring at them, feeling them in your hands and forcing yourself to believe that you could go back. That one of these times you closed your eyes, you would be in Erebor again.
It took about an hour for you to get back on your feet and walk inside, only to collapse onto the couch, something inside of you deeply broken in a way you weren’t sure could ever be fixed.
The days passed slowly at first, each one a new burden, heavy and unstable. The hours seemed to crawl by. You had constant headaches from crying so much and you had trouble sleeping. When you did manage to get some rest, you had dreams of the company, of hiking with the dwarves, chatting with Bilbo, kissing Kili one last time. And then you’d wake up and relive the heartbreak all over again.
After a few weeks, it seemed to get a little easier. None of your friends knew why you were so heartbroken and you didn’t know how to begin to explain it to them, so you didn’t, and they never asked.
You got back to writing and, Gandalf had been right, your adventure had sparked something. You knew exactly what the story needed: a dwarf prince.
You’d finished the book in record time, poured all your energy into it. You’d hired an editor to clean it up for you, got the interior formatted, and commissioned a cover from an artist online. And then, a few weeks after that, it was in your hands and available online. It helped fill the hole in your heart the tiniest bit.
After about a month, you went with your friends to a comic con. You knew there’d be Lord of the Rings stuff there, and you knew you wouldn’t really be able to avoid it. You didn’t expect, however, for one of the first tables in the Artist Alley to have portraits of Kili, Fili, and Thorin right at the front of their display.
“You’re really in a Lord of the Rings mood lately, huh?” Your friend Conner asked when he caught your eyes lingering on them.
You shrugged, unable to explain to them exactly what had sparked it. “The Hobbit, but yeah, I have. Couldn’t tell you why…”
Obviously, you bought all three prints, and obviously you bought a poster of Erebor a few stalls later and obviously you cried in the car on the way home and put them up on your bedroom walls as soon as you arrived. Maybe it would hurt a little to see Kili’s face every day, but you’d been sad every day since then anyway, at least now you’d be able to see him.
Some sense of normalcy had returned to your life, sure. You were able to make it through a few days at a time without bursting into tears, but you knew, no matter how much time passed, not a single one would without you thinking of him in some way, shape, or form.
He, like the rest of the party, had left a handprint on your heart, a tattoo in your mind that would never fade, whether or not you wanted it to.
***Six Months Later***
It was now, finally, your twenty-fourth birthday. Snow was falling outside and your friends were beginning to arrive for a birthday party. It helped to have people there. You didn’t want to just be celebrating alone with only your thoughts for company. So, instead, you purchased plenty of pizza, plenty of adult beverages and fun alternatives for your non-drinking friends, which of course included black cherry cream soda. You had a banging birthday playlist going, some fun movies playing in the other room, and lots of snacks in the kitchen.
You were wearing a short-ish silver dress and had done your makeup for once. The bead Kili had given you so long ago was on a chain around your neck. It was hard trying to do the courtship braids without help, so you’d given up on them, instead choosing to wear it as a necklace. It didn’t mean anything to the people around you anyway. They didn’t know the power it held.
“Hey birthday girl!” One of your college friends, Chelsea, said, coming in through the door with a veggie tray and a gift bag. “Brought you some accessories.”
“Oh did you, now?”
Inside the bag, there was a sash and a crown that both said Birthday Princess on them. You chuckled, slipping the sash over your head and perching the crown in your hair. Ironic, you thought. Well, at least now you looked the part.
“Is this mead? Why do you have mead?” asked Ethan, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, laughing and reading the label on the bottle. “Where did you even get this?”
“One of the party stores had it.” You shrugged. “It’s like wine but sweeter.”
“Huh.” He poured himself a glass and you sipped the same drink from the solo cup in your hand. It was blueberry flavored and very good. Perhaps not as good as the kind the elves in Rivendell had served, but good nonetheless.
More friends kept arriving. You all chatted in the living room, beneath strobing LED lights, vibing to the music on your party playlist.
“What’s on your necklace?” Your friend Cianna asked, taking note of the bead around your neck.
“Oh, a friend gave it to me a while back. It’s an emerald.”
“It’s pretty.”
You nodded and touched it gently. “Thanks.”
Eventually, once everyone you’d invited was accounted for and you’d all had your share of pizza, your friend Natalie prepared the birthday cake, poking a bunch of candles into its surface and lighting them after. And yet, just before they could sing and before you could even dare to make a wish, there was a knock on the door.
Phil walked to the door, a party had on his head, and pulled it open, staring for a long moment before saying. “Uhhhhh, (Y/N), did you hire a bunch of cosplayers?”
“No, why…?” You blew out the candles without a thought and stood up from the table, cautiously walking towards the door, followed by the rest of your group.
“Um, hello, we’re looking for (Y/N) (L/N)…is she here?”
Your heart raced. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Bilbo???” You peered out the door, and sure enough, a hobbit and crowd of dwarves stood there, all clamoring to see into the house. Ori was looking through the window and waved excitedly when you spotted him. Except…he was taller than you remembered. They all seemed to be, in fact.
“Bilbo Baggins?” Chelsea murmured in awe. “THE Bilbo Baggins???”
Phil stepped aside, still looking for the words to say, but none came. He’d been expecting another pizza guy or something, not…this.
“What are you guys…How did you…?” You were flabbergast. You had to be hallucinating. It simply was not possible. You blinked a few times and looked at your friends, who were all, seemingly, seeing what you were. “C-come on in.”
Bilbo walked in, taking off his scarf. There was snow caught in his hair and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. You wondered how long they’d been out there, or, rather, how far they’d traveled to get to your front door.
Pushing past the others, Kili was the next to enter the house, rushing straight up to you and collecting you in his arms, his lips capturing your own. You melted at his touch, falling back into all of the emotions you’d been refraining from feeling for the past several months. His kiss drew a hum from your throat, his arm wrapping tight around your waist.
When he finally pulled away, his hand wandered up to your face, brushing the stray hairs out of your eyes. He took you in for all that you were in this realm and though you looked a bit different from the way you’d appeared in Middle Earth, it was indeed the same Book Keeper behind those eyes. He’d know his One anywhere, even in a realm beyond his own.
“Happy birthday, Amrâlimê. You look beautiful.” His finger touched the tip of your ear, which was no longer pointed, and was instead, the smaller, rounded human ear you’d grown up with. He laughed softly, amused. “Your ears are so small.”
“Kili, I…” You giggled in disbelief, looking up at him for the first time ever. “How are you here?”
“Gandalf dropped us off down the street.” Fili explained, kicking off his snow-covered boots and setting his swords on the floor. “Said he’ll be back with his present later.”
“He also said the rules of your realm may affect us the way our realm affected you.” Thorin explained, much taller than you’d seen him last. “Which seems to be the case, Book Keeper.”
“I…see that.” Thorin was even taller than Kili was, as opposed to his previous height of just past your shoulder. He looked even more regal this way, you decided.
“I’m sorry, what is going on?” Cianna asked, looking from one dwarf to the next.
“Did the lass not tell you about her big adventure?” Bofur teased, carrying a small bag with him. “You forgot your camera in Middle Earth.”
“Right.” You chuckled, taking the bag he handed you. “Forgot about that.”
“And your photos. I’ve organized them for you.” Dori handed them to you in a stack.
The rest of the dwarves filed into the house as your friends looked on in wonder and confusion, waiting for some kind of explanation.
“So uh…to make a long story short, about six months ago, Gandalf came by and swept me off on an adventure. And I kind of, uh…stole Smaug’s fire and used it to wipe out the orcs in the Battle of Five Armies. And fell in love with Kili. And then when I got back, it was like no time had passed at all, Narnia style.”
“That’s the abridged version.” Bilbo said, grinning.
“You know…that kind of explains a lot.” Conner said, thinking back on all the merch you’d bought at comic con. This was, perhaps, why you had cried when you found action figures of Kili and Fili in one of the bins full of toys at said comic con.
“You still have it.” Kili whispered, a finger carefully touching the bead hanging around your neck. “I-I thought…”
“I forgot how to do the braid.” You confessed. “I didn’t want it to fall out.”
He kissed you again, softer this time. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here, then.”
Natalie pointed to the cake, the candles of which you’d just blown out. “Um, we have birthday cake. There’s ice cream, too.”
“Well why didn’t you say so?” Bofur laughed, walking towards the cake.
“What’s ice cream?” Ori asked, following him.
Balin walked up to you and took your hand as he passed. “Happy Birthday, lass. Good to see you.”
“Thank you, Balin.” You laughed. “You have no idea how good it is to see you guys.”
“Where’s the ale, lassie?” Dwalin draped a heavy arm around your shoulders. He was impossibly tall at human height.
“Have you ever had a margarita?” You asked, mischievous.
“Can’t say I have.”
“Come on.” You took Kili’s hand and led him, Dwalin, and Fili to the kitchen, where you and Cianna started serving up drinks.
Kili stopped at the counter, where he noticed the bottles of black cherry cream soda. He smiled softly and grabbed two, one for himself and one for you. When you abandoned the bar and walked back out to the living room with Kili, the dwarves were mingling with your friends, getting acquainted with one another.
You spotted your friend Taylor across the room teaching Bofur and Bifur how to play ping pong. Ori was in the other room watching whatever movie was on the TV. You were pretty sure it was Tangled. Gloin was scolding Nori for attempting to pocket something while Dori showed Phil and Conner the stack of photos from your Polaroid, telling stories of your adventure. Thorin was standing in the corner with Dwalin and Balin, sipping from a red solo cup, a sight you never saw you’d see. Meanwhile, Chelsea was chatting with Bilbo, asking him everything under the sun about the Shire.
Fili sat on the armchair next to the couch, his feet resting on the ottoman in front of it. “Nice place, Book Keeper.”
“You think so?”
“It’s cozy.” Kili agreed, removing your birthday princess crown for a moment before detangling your hair with the comb he always seemed to have tucked in his pocket. He set to work, putting the courting braid back in your hair, where it was meant to be.
You undid the clasp holding your necklace together and slipped the bead from the chain, handing it to him carefully so he could fasten it to the end of the braid once again. Once it was done, he carefully set the plastic crown back on top of your head.
He leaned in and kissed your cheek and then your lips, lingering against them for a long moment.
“I missed you.” You told him, touching your nose to his. “I was starting to think…I might not ever see you again.”
“How long has it been for you?” Fili asked.
“About six months. It’s been…really hard.” You shook your head. “I was starting to think the whole thing had been in my head…”
Kili frowned. “It’s…only been a few weeks in Erebor. The victory celebrations have barely dwindled.”
It felt like he’d stolen the breath from your lungs. For you, half a year had passed and for them, it hadn’t even been a month? The time travel stuff would never make sense to you, not entirely.
“Wow, that’s…” You shook your head. “Wow.”
Kili took both of your hands, serious all of a sudden. “I cannot imagine what that must have been like for you. Every day without you felt like an eternity. But I intend to make up for every moment.”
“Good.” You kissed him again, interrupted by a tap on your shoulder. You turned to find Natalie leaning over the back of the couch, her eyes locked on Thorin across the room. “Oh hey, what’s up?”
“That’s Thorin, right? Over there in the fur.”
“Thorin Oakenshield, in the flesh. He’s king under the mountain now. And he did not die in the Battle of Five Armies, so he’s got that going for him.” You assured her, twisting the cap off of your cream soda. You couldn’t help but smirk a little. You knew the look on her face and…you couldn’t say you blamed her.
“Uh-huh. Cool. And he’s…single, right?”
Fili choked on his drink and Kili let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused.
“Yeah, he is.”
Natalie downed the rest of her drink and adjusted her hair. “Alright good. I’m going in.”
You saluted her as she walked away. “Godspeed.”
“Uncle is that well-known here?” Fili asked, watching her go.
“Only to the nerds, but…we’re all nerds here.” You chuckled. “You three are…very popular among The Hobbit fans, especially the women.”
A smile snuck across Fili’s face. “I am too?”
“Yes, you are, Fili.”
There was a final knock at the door and you stood, walking to answer it. You were unsurprised to find Gandalf there, a proud look on his wise features.
“Quite the party here, Book Keeper.” He said, stepping inside, a book tucked under his arm. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had a meeting with a lion run a bit longer than expected.”
You stared at him for a long time before blurting, “Are you…talking about Aslan?”
That mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes once more. “Oh yes, Aslan and I are old friends. I needed his help putting the finishing touches on your gift.” He handed the book to you. “Happy birthday, dear.”
“Thank you.” The book in your hands was your own, the copy of the Hobbit you’d left in Middle Earth.
He winked. “Check the back cover.”
You took his advice and opened to the back of the book, where a necklace was tucked. It was silver and circular, several symbols along the edge of it and three emeralds embedded in its surface in a triangle. It buzzed with an unfamiliar power. “Woah…”
“This, dear Book Keeper, is a Charm of Return. I needed special permission to acquire it, but it will allow you to travel to either realm as you please. I’m sorry it took me so long to get it to you, but it took quite some time to convince the Council to grant my request.”
You hugged him tightly, your heart racing. “I don’t know how to thank you. This is…”
“It is I that owes you, dear, not the other way around. You have done immeasurable good for Middle Earth, and…come sixty years from now, I may need your expertise once more.” He looked around the room. “These friends of yours wouldn’t happen to be in need of an adventure, would they? I’m sure there are a handful of hobbits, an elf prince, a dwarf, and a few men that could use some guidance and I doubt you’d be able to be in all of those places at once…”
You laughed. “I think a lot of them would be very interested in that offer.”
“I will keep them in mind.” He tipped his hat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems your friend is in need of some help at the ping pong table. Two against one is hardly fair, especially where Bifur is concerned.”
Gandalf walked away and Kili stood at your side again. When you felt his presence, you looked down out of habit, but he guided your chin up instead, laughing. It was, decidedly, odd being taller than you. He didn’t necessarily mind, but he was pretty sure he preferred your height difference the other way around.
“What did he give you?”
“My book. And an enchanted necklace.” You told him, your arms looping around his neck, resting on his shoulders. “Our relationship is no longer long-distance.”
He tugged you closed to him, a strong arm around your waist as he dipped you back, exploring your lips for a long moment before pulling you upright again. “Good, because I much prefer having you close to me, Amrâlimê.”
You reached up to touch his face, your thumb grazing his stubble. Honestly, you were still trying to convince yourself that he was there, that he was real and not merely a dream, as he had been for the past six months. But no matter how many times you blinked, he was still there, his leather and campfire and pine scent just as strong as you remembered it to be, his warmth vivid and real. “Me too.”
“You keep looking at me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear.” He whispered, his voice a bit sad, his eyes searching your own for some hint of what you were feeling.
You teared up a bit. “I kind of am.”
“Oh ghivashel…” He pulled you to his chest, one of his hands cradling your head, gently petting your hair in an attempt to reassure you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head. “I swore to you once that I’d find you again. Now that I’ve found you…I swear to you, I’m never going to lose you again.”
“Promise?” You asked, your voice wobbly.
He pulled away and offered you his pinkie, a tearful smile on that handsome face of his. You linked your pinkie with his, locking the promise.
Ethan peeked out of the other room. “Hey, (Y/N), can you hook up the Switch? I have to kick…” He looked behind him and asked. “Sorry, what’s your name?”
“I’m Ori.”
“I have to kick Ori’s butt at Just Dance.”
You laughed. “Oh absolutely.”
You helped connect your Switch to the TV, and as you did so, you couldn’t help but notice Thorin and Natalie stepping up to the ping pong table opposite Taylor and Bofur. Yeah, something about that felt right, too.
“Now, what is this Switch of yours?” Fili asked, looking on with curiosity as you switched the cords around before, finally, the menu popped onto the TV screen. The dwarves in the room made noises of awe.
“Remember how I told you about video games? This is that.”
You took a seat on the couch beside Kili and handed one of the controllers to Ethan, who showed Ori, Dori, and Nori how to play while the rest of the dwarves gathered around, interested to see how it worked.
You draped an arm around Kili’s shoulders and rested your legs atop his. Kili’s hand settled on your thigh and he stared at you, obsessed with the proximity after weeks of being apart. He thought you looked so beautiful in your glittering silver dress, your birthday princess crown and sash.
“What?” You asked, catching him staring at you.
He kissed your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. “It just…doesn’t feel real. Being here. I’ll admit, I never thought I’d get to come to your realm.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s very different than I’m accustomed to, but I think it definitely explains a lot about you. I like it, of course, but I’m not sure I could ever adjust to living here, not fully.”
“It’d be quite the learning curve.” You agreed. “That’s how I felt with Middle Earth, in the beginning. It felt…unreal. Every morning I expected to wake up back in my bed, like it had all been some fantastical dream, and…once I came back here, I kept expecting to wake up there instead.”
“You belong to both.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, still half-expecting it to come to a point.
You nodded. “I belong to both.” Your hand wandered to the enchanted necklace around your neck. “And now I can.”
After a few rounds of Just Dance, one of your friends put in MarioKart instead, attempting to explain the game to Fili, who showed an interest in the racing game. Seeing the opportunity to step away for a moment, Kili looked at you and asked, “Can you show me your room?”
“Yeah, of course.” You stood up and took his hand, leading him through the living room, down the hall, and into your room.
He looked around, curious. His eyes lingered on every poster adorning your walls for a moment before stopping on the prints you’d gotten at comic con. All in a row, you had portraits of himself, his brother, and his uncle, and above them, there was a poster of Erebor, bathed in mist.
“Where did you get these?” He asked, staring at them.
“At a convention I went to this year.” You shrugged. “Reminded me of home. I left all my pictures there, so things like this are the only way I can really see it.”
“Home…” He repeated the word, nodding. “It’s been hard sleeping without you at my side. Our bed feels empty without you.”
Your heart leapt when he said it. Our bed. You took a step closer to him, stepping into his warmth. His hand rose to your cheek, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. He had to crane his neck down in order to reach your lips, which caused him to chuckle.
“What?” You asked, amused.
“Is this what it’s like when you try to kiss me?” He asked, looking down at you from his elevated human height. You figured he was probably about six feet tall like this. Thorin and Dwalin were even taller yet, wherever they were in your house with your friends.
“Yeah, pretty much.” You stood on your toes and kissed him again. “I can’t say I mind, though.”
“I suppose I never asked how you felt about it. About the distance between us.” He sat on the bed, pulling you towards him so you were standing between his legs in a way that more accurately mimicked your usual height difference. “You don’t care? Even the human men in my world are usually taller than their beloveds…”
“I couldn’t care less.” You poked his nose with the tip of your finger. “You’re a dwarf, Kili. Your height is part of who you are, and…I love every piece of you. I don’t care how tall you are compared to me, all I care about is you.”
You settled on his leg, pulling his arms around you and pressing another passionate kiss to his lips. He kissed you hungrily, like he had been the one waiting six months to do so opposed to the other way around. When you separated, he rested his forehead against yours and took a long breath.
“Would you like your birthday present now?”
“You got me a present?” You asked.
“Of course I did, ghivashel.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small wooden box, which had been painted forest green.
He handed it to you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you opened it, only to find a claddagh ring, very similar to the one that had been turned into the bead braided into his hair. Instead of hands on either side of the emerald, however, there were tiny silver leaves, like the ones he’d worked into your courting bead. It truly was gorgeous. You could tell he’d made it himself, which only made you love it more.
With careful hands, he slid the ring onto your right ring finger so the heart was upright, signifying that you were in a relationship. He pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you told me what your ring meant that night in the goblin cave.” He admitted, his voice soft and deep. “I’d just stare at your ring and think about how badly I wanted to flip it over, to call you mine. And someday…I want to be the one who gets to move it to your other hand.”
“I want that too.” You assured him, whispering against his lips.
“I didn’t know Gandalf was going to bring us here when I started working on it. I just…needed something to distract me from the hole in my heart.” He kissed your forehead and then your cheek and then your lips. “They’re calling you the Emerald Princess of Erebor back home.”
“Are they?” You asked, amused. “I’ll admit, it has a ring to it.”
“Among your other titles, of course. Book Keeper, Fire Stealer, Realm Traveler, Orc Burner…” He searched your face before adding, “You’re a hero, you know. To all of us. When it was looking like you might not be back…Uncle was in the process of commissioning a statue of you, especially once he found out it wasn’t just my life you’d saved.”
“So he knows, then.”
“We all do.” Bilbo was standing in the doorway of your room. He took a look around. “It’s nice in here. Sorry to interrupt, ah, the others are beginning to tell stories to your friends and we thought you might like to be present for that. Also, there’s only one slice of cake left and Bofur said you two haven’t had any yet.”
“Thank you, Bilbo.” You smiled and stood up.
“Is that the Shire?” Bilbo pointed to a poster hanging on your wall. His eyes narrowed at it, examining it further. “Is that my house?”
“Yeah, it is.”
He pointed to a print of Frodo and Sam and Merry and Pippin. “Who are they?”
“Well, that one is your nephew. Technically, I guess, he’s your cousin, but you two call each other nephew and uncle. He’s…he’s going to do great things someday.”
“Huh.” Bilbo nodded, leading you and Kili back down the hall to where the others were all congregating in the living room.
Some had gotten refills of some their drinks, and some of the dwarves were trying the human snacks they’d found in your kitchen. Dori was trying to convince Ori to try a margarita, but he insisted that he didn’t like green food and that also applied to green beverages.
Bofur handed you a paper plate, upon which was the last slice of birthday cake, and two plastic forks. He winked. “Thought you might share with your beloved.”
“Thank you, Bofur.” You and Kili settled into the spot that was left for you in the makeshift circle that had formed in the living room.
Gandalf was perched on a chair in the corner of the room, on the edge of the group, as he often was. Fili had a bit of frosting caught in his beard as he ate the second to last slice of cake.
“Is it good?” You asked, laughing softly.
“It’s fantastic, Book Keeper.”
“I’m glad.” You handed Kili the other plastic fork.
Kili broke off a piece of cake and held his fork in front of your mouth. You ate from it playfully. It was nice, getting to be domestic with him, given that so much of your time together thus far had been on the road, weaving in and out of danger.
“So…” Chelsea pressed, your human friends all waiting anxiously to hear about your time in Middle Earth. “What was it…like?”
“Anything specific or just in general?” You asked for clarification.
“In general, I guess.”
“It was…everything I could have imagined.” You shrugged. “Like, the movies don’t even begin to do it justice, Middle Earth. We started in the Shire, at Bilbo’s, travelled to Rivendell, through Mirkwood, through Laketown, to Erebor. It took a long time, not just the nine hours that are on screen. Like, the book is just the cliffnotes, you know? Being there, doing it…It was spectacular. Scary sometimes, sure, but I think it was worth it.”
“What’s your scar from?” Taylor pointed to the long, jagged mark running up your arm. “Was it actually from dog-sitting or…?”
“A goblin got me, but that’s not even the big one.” You chuckled and stood, pulling up the skirt of your dress the tiniest bit, showing off the large mark left from the dragon’s talons. “Smaug did that.”
“Holy shit…” One of your friends murmured.
“The little scar on my cheek is, surprisingly, the only one I got during the Battle of Five Armies, but that one healed up so well, it’s hard to even see it.” You sat back down next to Kili.
“Meet anyone cool?” Ethan asked.
“Most of them are in attendance.” You replied, and the dwarves chuckled. “I did meet Legolas briefly. And Elrond. And we stayed with Bard for a bit; his kids were really nice. Also Thranduil is like…kinda mean.”
“He is an acquired taste, that is for certain.” Gandalf piped up from the corner. “Not entirely unreasonable, though.”
“What was your favorite part of the trip, lass?” Bofur asked, that mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“If that isn’t a loaded question…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I honestly…I feel like there are too many to count. There were a lot of moments that really stuck out to me and I loved them all in different ways for different reasons; staying at Beorn’s, riding in the barrels down the river, the party at Laketown…” You took Kili’s hand and he gave yours a squeeze. “Obviously, I’m not single anymore, so I loved every moment that led up to that, as well, and…all of the moments since then, too.”
The group sat there for a while, reminiscing, telling stories. Balin recounted the moment you stole Smaug’s fire. Bofur told them all how wasted you’d been at the aforementioned party in Laketown. Fili recalled when he’d spotted you outside their cells in Mirkwood, disguised as an elf guard and Dwalin bragged that you’d stood up Legolas at the Festival of Starlight that night, managing to trick every elf you passed, including their prince.
“I have a story.” Kili spoke after a while, and everyone piped down, eager to see what he had to say. “So, that first night in the Shire, shortly after Thorin arrived, Gandalf informed us that there would be a mysterious fifteenth member of the company. He said fifteen was a lucky number and that, in addition to our Burglar, we were in need of a Book Keeper to…keep the record straight, or something of the sort. And I thought to myself, we have Ori for that, he’s a scribe, what more could we possibly need to keep the record of the adventure? We waited for a bit. Waited a little longer. And then I hear this little voice in the distance, down the hall and around the corner. Didn’t think much of it.”
You listened carefully. In all your time together, he’d never told you what was going through his head the moment you’d met.
“So Gandalf sends me to get her. Up until then, we didn’t even know she was a woman, which was a bit of an upset among the company. I wasn’t anywhere near the door, so I wasn’t quite sure why he’d sent me of all dwarves, but I stood and walked out of the room and down the hall and when I turned the corner and I…I saw her standing there, looking very lost and something happened, then. It was like she was glowing, this stunning, beautiful woman, and the first word out of her mouth is my name.” He chuckled and shook his head, squeezing your hand. “I’m sure I stood there, gaping at you like an idiot for a good, long time before finally asking if I’d met you before because surely, I would have remembered if we had. As it turned out, she’d come from an entirely different realm to help us.”
You caught a proud look on Thorin’s face, amusement in those blue eyes of his.
“I remember that tense moment after she was finally introduced to the company. I didn’t know whether or not Uncle would let her come along on the journey and, if he didn’t and she went back home after journeying so far to get to us…Even then, I knew she’d be taking half of my heart with her if she left.”
“Awwww…” Natalie pouted.
“But he let her come. And…I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be sitting here with all of you if she hadn’t.”
“And the rest is history.” Fili said, grinning.
“I’ve got a question.” Gloin said, holding up a copy of your book that had been lying on the coffee table. “What’s this, lassie? The Prince and the Prophet?”
“That’s my novel. I finished it when I got back, published it a few months back.”
“You just casually published a novel?” Bilbo asked, thoroughly impressed. “Is it that easy in this realm?”
“It takes time, sure, but actually getting it out there is kind of easy in this realm, depending on how you go about it.” You shrugged.
“Let me see.” Kili held out his hand and Gloin tossed it to him. He looked at the cover and he couldn’t help but notice the resemblance he and the love interest shared, right down to the height difference with the main character. “Second in line for the throne, first in line for her heart.” He read the tagline and his cheeks reddened.
“Well that sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Fili joked, taking the book from his brother’s hands and holding it up so the others could see it side by side. “Kind of looks familiar too. Huh.”
“I knew it!” Phil pointed, triumphant. “I fucking knew it!”
“Ohhhhhh. Kili. Killian. I get it.” Cianna agreed, and everyone in attendance laughed.
Kili laughed in disbelief, his face right in front of yours. “You named him Killian?”
“As they say, write what you know.” You laughed, shielding your face by taking a sip from your drink. “I needed something to bury myself in. Try to fill in the hole in my heart a little bit, you know?”
Kili pressed a long kiss to your cheek. “All too well, Amrâlimê.” He raised an eyebrow, mischievous. “Do you think I could have a copy? Being your muse and all, I think it’s only fair.”
“Of course you can.” You laughed.
“Are there any mentions of the heir to the throne, Book Keeper? Prince Fillian, perhaps?” Fili asked and your friends all cracked up.
“No, of course not, that would be ridiculous.” You scoffed. “His name is Finnian and he has an intense passion for musical theater.”
The company erupted into laughter. You took a long moment to look around the room. It was like that last night before the battle in a way. You knew the magic of this night was limited. Once it was over, you’d never have this feeling again, this swirl of nostalgia and camaraderie and home, the mix of both of your homes together. Sure, now you had the ability to go back and forth, but you weren’t sure you’d ever get to have them all together in one room again. Only time would tell.
Hours later, the party finally ended. You had lots of help cleaning up, and your friends slowly started leaving to go back to their homes, unsure if when they woke this crazy night would be more than a dream. Some of the dwarves left as well, escorted by Gandalf out the front door and back to Middle Earth.
Once you finally had the place in a relatively normal state and you, Gandalf, Bilbo, and the Durins were the only ones left, you felt Kili’s presence behind you, warm and close. You turned into his arms, resting your head against his chest. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and then murmured against your hairline the words you had been waiting to hear all night, “Come, Amrâlimê. Let’s go home.”
***
The celebrations in Erebor when you returned were unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and a wizard and a hobbit and a Book Keeper all celebrating together, one last time before they’d all go back to their own settlements and move on with their lives.
The men, Bard had told you, were considering moving to Dale from Laketown, in order to be closer to Erebor for trading with the Dwarves. Many of the dwarves that had come to fight alongside the company were staying, too, to help restore Erebor to its former glory. A lot of work had to be done to get it to that point, Thorin had told you. Especially since a dragon had torn his way through the place to escape the woman who’d stolen his fire.
Speaking of Thorin, he’d granted you a title and a gilded emerald circlet to go along with it, declaring you as an honorary Princess of Erebor, although given your relationship to his nephew, you would have married into that title soon enough anyway. And these days, you weren’t the only princess in Erebor. Dís, Kili and Fili’s mother, had made the journey in your absence, joining the rest of her family in their ancestral home. She had been incredibly kind to you and had welcomed you to the family immediately. Her brother and sons trusted you like their own, so she did, too, especially once she heard everything you’d done for them.
Slowly but surely, the Lonely Mountain was becoming less and less lonely, abuzz with people, the smithing industry up and running again, and every torch lit with warm light.
After another week, Bilbo decided it was finally time to go home. He and Gandalf prepared for the return journey. Bilbo wanted to slip out unnoticed, but the company caught word of it and gathered one last time to see him off at the gate.
“If any of you are ever passing Bag End…Tea is at four. There’s plenty of it…You are welcome anytime.” Bilbo said, his eyes sincere, and his voice wavering.
The dwarves all bowed to him one final time, each of their eyes glassy with tears.
“You’ll have to come back to visit someday.” You said, a tear trickling down your cheek, the pink light of sunrise flushing the scene with warmth and beauty. “For the wedding.”
Bilbo’s eyes softened and he took a step forward. You knelt down to the ground so he could give you one last hug before leaving for the Shire after all this time. He whispered in your ear, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Book Keeper.”
He started to walk away, stopped only by Thorin, who followed him up the path for a more private goodbye. Kili wiped a tear from his cheek and turned you towards him, gazing up at you as he had so many times before. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the end of the story?”
“It’s the end of the book, sure, but…” you shook your head, “it’s not the end of the story. It…well, to me, it feels like the beginning of a new one, except this time…I have no idea what’s coming next.”
Kili pulled you down to his level, pressing a long kiss to your lips. “We’ll find that out together, Amrâlimê, one page at a time…”
#kili#kili x reader#kili durin#the hobbit#the hobbit imagine#tolkien#kili durin x reader#the book keeper
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hard to get — kai parker x reader
☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, clichés — drama
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
synopsis: you were the girl next door, he was the devil's advocate. you liked your russian literature, he liked his women—all of them, in fact.
✧.*
the parties took place on the front lawn of 4347, mystic falls, every sunday afternoon. despite the supernatural secrets lurked around every corner, it never got in the way of the little girls of your quiet neighborhood. lizzie saltzman wpuld bring the tea set, which was appropriate, since she was the hostess. hope mikaelson provided formal attire from her deceased mother's closet. and josie saltzman invited the additional guests—stuffed animals for each of the girls—some of whom hadn't been to a party in years. of course, it never occurred to the three young girls, that while they were busy playing out their fantasy, one of the older girls in the neighborhood was engaging in a fantasy of her own.
your were the walking cliché embodiment of the good girl next door – quick-witted, kind-hearted, and always ready with a sharp retort. your life had a predictable rhythm until the day you crossed paths with a neanderthal. up until that point, you had a thing going on. you were there, every morning, a book in one hand with a coffee cup in the other, basking in what the day had in store for you on your front porch.
kai, who was an enigmatic playboy with a smirk that could melt hearts and a reputation for leaving a trail of broken promises, set his sights on you the moment he saw you with bonnie bennett. he sauntered over, confidence radiating from every step, and leaned against your picket fence. “hey there, gorgeous,” he purred, blue eyes dancing with mischief. “mind if i join your afternoon?”
you barely glanced up from your book, arching an eyebrow. “is this the part where i'm supposed to swoon and hand you my heart?” your tone dripped with sarcasm as you turned the page, ignoring his presence.
kai chuckled, undeterred. “i like a challenge,” he replied, flashing his signature grin. “so, what's a smart and stunning girl like you doing with a book like that?”
“reading it and wondering how many times i've heard that line,” you shot back, your lips quirking into an amused smile.
undaunted, kai persisted. day after day, he found new ways to engage with you in conversation, each attempt met with a witty retort. it became a dance of words and glances, a tantalizing game you played on the quiet streets of mystic falls.
“i have a feeling you're just waiting for me to sweep you off your feet,” kai teased one afternoon, leaning on the hood of his car as you walked by.
you chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “and i have a feeling you're mistaking me for someone who would willingly fall for that.”
as the weeks went by, kai's relentless pursuit of you showed no sign of slowing. he became a fixture in your life, a presence that simultaneously annoyed and intrigued you. you debated, exchanged barbs, and even shared moments of genuine laughter, all while kai's intentions remained clear.
“when are you gonna stop playing hard to get, sunshine?”
“depends, when are you gonna stop being hard to want?”
but then something shifted. beneath the playful banter and sarcastic jabs, a connection began to form. in between your arguments, you would noticed the way kai's eyes softened when he thought you weren't looking, how he listened intently when you spoke about your passions, and the times when his laughter seemed unguarded and genuine.
one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself seated on your porch swing, just like every other night, lost in thought. kai appeared beside you, surprisingly subdued. “you know, i've never met anyone quite like you,” he admitted, his voice carrying a note of sincerity.
you turned to him, your gaze steady. “is that your way of saying i'm a challenge you can't resist?”
kai's lips curled into a half-smile. “maybe it's my way of saying i'm not sure i want to resist.”
your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the words, kai leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both unexpected and electrifying. in that moment, time seemed to stand still as your connection deepened.
pulling away, kai looked at you with a mixture of uncertainty and hope. “i've wanted to do that for a while,” he confessed, his bravado replaced by vulnerability.
your couldn't help but smile, your walls slowly crumbling, but the hesitation never making a full departure. “of course, it's just a few steps away from sleeping with me, isn't it?” the smile on kai's face slowly faltered, even all the while he knew you were joking, your words couldn't help but sting.
your banter had evolved into something deeper, something that left you both breathless and eager for more. as you continued to explore your feelings, you soon discovered that beneath kai's playboy facade, was a man capable of genuine emotion, while kai found in you a kindred spirit who challenged him in ways he had never experienced before.
“you know,” he began, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he began to wander, as if he was nervous to tell you something. “i haven't slept with anybody since we kissed.” you scoffed, but you couldn't ignore the way his words made you feel. it was what he was known for, yet he was straying away from it just for you.
you raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “i should be checking for signs of the apocalypse. the world must be ending if kai parker, the master of fleeting romances, is suddenly turning into a monk.”
he let out a soft laugh, the sound surprisingly genuine. “okay, maybe monk is a bit extreme, but let’s just say i’ve found myself more intrigued by a certain someone’s company than just a quick roll in the hay.”
you feigned surprise, placing a hand on your chest dramatically. “kai parker? interested in more than just a casual fling? this must be a parallel universe or something.”
he shot you a playful glare. “hey, i'm not saying i'm proposing here. just—noticing that maybe there’s more to life than moving from one hookup to another.”
you tilted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. “so, what? you’re saying you’re looking for something real?”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i didn’t say that exactly. i'm just saying that being around you— it’s different. and yeah, maybe i'm curious to see where different could lead.”
a mix of emotions swirled within you. you had spent so long building up your defenses against his advances, and now he was dropping his playboy facade? the irony wasn’t lost on you.
“different,” you echoed, your voice softer than before. “you do realize that ‘different’ for you is still probably light years away from what most people consider normal, right?”
kai smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “who needs normal when you’ve got interesting?”
you couldn’t help but chuckle, his words catching you off guard. “interesting, huh? is that your way of saying i’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve?”
he leaned in, his tone teasing. “nah, puzzles are too much work. more like a mystery i want to unravel, one piece at a time.”
you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth tugged into a smile. “you are ridiculous, kai parker.”
he chuckled softly, the smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you. “and you like it.”
before you could offer a sarcastic retort, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender. it was a kiss that held the weight of unspoken emotions, a silent promise of something more.
as he pulled away, he met your gaze with a newfound seriousness. “i just wanted you to know that I’m not playing games here.”
your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, seeing a sincerity that was both unexpected and strangely comforting. “and i just want you to know that i’m not the kind of girl who falls for pretty words and empty promises.”
his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch gentle. “i wouldn’t want you to be.”
there was a moment of shared understanding between you, a silent agreement that while the journey might not be easy, it was one worth exploring. and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the two of you, you realized that maybe, just maybe, God had something beautiful in store for you.
but just as your relationship was blossoming, a rumor swept through mystic falls, threatening to tear them apart. it was said that kai had been with another girl, a betrayal that shattered your trust and left you heartbroken.
unbeknownst to you, the rumor was nothing but a cruel lie. kai had remained steadfastly devoted, his feelings for you growing stronger by the day. he had never been with anyone else, consumed by thoughts of you as he gave himself a few days off, attempting to surprise you with days' worth of planning dinner reservations.
as days turned into nights, you found yourself growing more perplexed by kai's absence. the rumor that he had slept with someone else gnawed at you, fueling a mix of disappointment and betrayal. the possibility of a genuine connection seemed to crumble beneath the weight of the gossip, and your heart ached for what you thought had been lost.
seeking solace in a familiar friend, you found bonnie's comforting presence. she listened patiently as you poured out your heart, sharing your confusion and the sinking feeling that the connection you had felt with kai might have been a mere illusion.
“i just can't believe he'd do this,” you lamented, your voice tinged with sadness. “after all the time we spent together, the conversations, the moments.”
bonnie placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “i know how much you've been through already. it's okay to feel hurt. but remember, rumors aren't always true. maybe there's more to the story than you know.”
still, the pain lingered, and in an attempt to take your mind off things, bonnie suggested a night out at a club. she wanted you to let loose and forget your worries, even if just for a little while. she knew you were a gorgeous girl and, despite not treating sex like a playtoy, you had a few tricks up your sleeve. you knew just the way to curl your hair, you knew just the dress to put on to get everybody's attention—just the perfume to wear to turn heads, and just the makeup to put on to capture as many compliments as you knew how.
the club was alive with pulsating music and vibrant lights as you and bonnie danced your cares away. in the midst of the throbbing crowd, you found solace in the music's rhythm, allowing it to drown out the doubts and uncertainties that had been plaguing your mind. as the vibrant lights of the club danced around you, the beat of the music pulsed through your veins. her idea to let loose was working, and the worries that had been consuming your mind were beginning to fade. you swayed to the rhythm, feeling the music's energy wrap around you like a warm embrace.
bonnie leaned in close, shouting over the music. “you look stunning tonight!”
you laughed, the sound lost in the cacophony of the club. it was liberating to let your guard down and simply enjoy the moment. as you and bonnie chatted, the conversation turned unexpectedly towards your feelings for kai. it was a subject you hadn't discussed openly with anyone before, but the club's pulsating atmosphere seemed to encourage honesty.
“okay, fine,” you admitted, a blush rising to your cheeks. “maybe i've started to feel differently about him. but with all these rumors going around, i don't even know what to think anymore.”
her eyes glinted mischievously. “well, if you ask me, rumors are just noise. i told you once and i'll tell you again—you should follow your heart and see where it leads.”
before you could respond, a deep voice interjected, sending a shiver down your spine. “wise words, indeed.”
you turned to see klaus mikaelson, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. his presence was magnetic, his charm a force to be reckoned with. the combination of the club's energy and his undeniable allure created a heady mix of emotions.
“klaus,” you greeted, trying to maintain your composure despite the butterflies that had taken up residence in your stomach. “didn't expect to see you here.”
he offered you a smoldering smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “life is full of surprises, my dear,” he smiled, and you couldn't help but follow his footstepw away from the dance floor. “can i buy you a drink?” normally, you wouldn't have accepted, but tonight was about letting loose. you nodded your head, earning a smile from him.
as hw engaged you in conversation, his words laced with innuendo and flirtatious undertones, you found yourself both flattered and slightly uncomfortable. his attention was like a spotlight on you, and though you were no stranger to attention, there was something different about the way klaus looked at you.
his words were magnetic, drawing you in with their subtle promises and unspoken desires. you laughed at his jokes, allowing yourself to be swept up in the whirlwind of the night. it was both exhilarating and overwhelming, a whirlwind encounter you hadn't anticipated.
amid the laughter and exchanged glances, you couldn't help but notice a shift in the atmosphere. people around you were suddenly casting curious glances towards the entrance, and your heart skipped a beat when you followed their gaze.
there he was, kai parker, standing at the entrance of the club. his piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, and a whirlwind of emotions crossed his face – surprise, disbelief, and something else you couldn't quite identify.
as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze locked onto his. time seemed to slow as the space between you and him was filled with unspoken tension. it was as if the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in an electric bubble of awareness.
bonnie nudged you playfully, breaking the spell. “seems like someone's here to join the party.”
you tore your gaze away from kai, the intensity of the moment leaving your heart racing. your cheeks were flushed, a mix of emotions swirling within you. as you turned back to klaus, his expression held a knowing glint.
“ah, young love,” he mused, his tone suggestive.
you shot him a look, half-amused and half-embarrassed. “it's not like that.”
he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “isn't it, now?”
but as klaus's attention remained on you, kai approached with determined steps, his eyes locked onto yours. the atmosphere around you shifted once again, this time with a palpable sense of tension and uncertainty.
his arrival had disrupted the easy dynamic you had shared with klaus, leaving you in a whirlwind of emotions you struggled to understand. the club's vibrant energy seemed to mirror the storm of feelings raging within you, and you knew that the moment kai reached you, everything was about to change. as he closed the distance between you, the anticipation was almost suffocating. jis eyes bore into yours, a mixture of emotions swirling within them – surprise, confusion, and something else that sent a shiver down your spine.
“hey,” he said, his voice softer than you had expected. it was as if the whirlwind of the club's atmosphere had transformed into a bubble that contained just the two of you.
“hey,” you replied, your own voice catching slightly. his presence was overwhelming, and you felt a mix of nerves and a strange fluttering in your chest.
kai's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned to bonnie, his tone casual. “mind if i borrow her for a minute?”
bonnie glanced between the two of you, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “of course not. i'll be right here.”
as you followed kai away from the club, the silence was heavy with unspoken tension. the music seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.
“i heard there was a rumor going around,” he began, his voice a mixture of curiosity and something you couldn't quite decipher.
you sighed, your gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. “yeah, about you and someone else.”
he let out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. "i knew these rumors would start eventually, but i didn't think they'd mess with your head like this."
you looked up, meeting his gaze. “kai, i thought—”
he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his finger. his touch was electric, and his eyes held a sincerity that took you by surprise. “you thought i was different. and i am, (y/n). i haven't been with anyone else since that night we kissed.”
your heart skipped a beat, his words resonating deeply within you. “how do i know you're telling the truth?”
kai's expression softened, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “you can trust me, (y/n). i know i've made mistakes in the past, but this... what we have, it's real.”
your breath caught in your throat as his words washed over you. there was vulnerability in his gaze, a side of kai you hadn't seen before. the emotions that had been swirling within you since you met him were suddenly overwhelming, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.
kai's thumb brushed against your lips, his gaze locked onto yours. “can i prove it to you?”
before you could respond, his lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense. it was a kiss that held all the unspoken emotions between you – the doubts, the longing, and the newfound realization that maybe, just maybe, you had both been wrong about each other.
as the kiss deepened, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the moment. the whispers of the club's music echoed in the background, a haunting melody to the story unfolding between you and kai.
and just when you thought nothing else could possibly matter, a new voice cut through the haze. “am i interrupting something?”
you pulled away from kai, turning to see klaus leaning casually against a nearby pillar, a smirk playing on his lips. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you that he had been watching, his presence a reminder that the supernatural world had a way of turning even the most intimate moments into a spectacle.
kai shot him a glare, his arm protectively wrapped around your waist. “actually, you are.”
klaus chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “my apologies, young lovers. i'll leave you to it.”
as klaus walked away, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flooded your cheeks. kai's fingers squeezed your waist, and you looked up at him, the tension from moments ago replaced by a newfound warmth.
“you know,” he said, his voice a playful whisper, “i think i'm okay with people knowing we're not just friends.”
you smiled, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. as you looked into his eyes, you realized that sometimes rumors were just that – empty words that held no power over the truth.
“me too,” you replied, your voice filled with a newfound confidence.
and as you leaned in for another kiss, the club's vibrant energy seemed to swell around you, a backdrop to the unexpected twist in your story. with kai by your side and the promise of a real connection between you, the night held endless possibilities, and you were ready to embrace every one of them.
#tvd#the vampire diaries#kai parker#kai parker x reader#kai x reader#kai parker angst#kai parker fluff#kai parker smut#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikealson x reader#tvd kai#tvd klaus
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Kayce Dutton x f!reader
Summary: When a downtrodden Kayce arrives on your doorstep at nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve and shares unexpected news, reigning in the feelings you’ve harbored for him for years becomes exceedingly difficult.
Word Count: 3.1k
Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT
Prompt: New Year's Eve kiss (dedicated to @villainvindicator 💖)
Content: NSFW, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, fingering, unprotected p in v (very brief mention of domestic abuse without details)
DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST
You’re nearly on the cusp of sleep when the sound of tires crunching along your gravel driveway rouses you from where you’re curled up on the couch. Stealing a glance at the clock on the wall, and you peer out the blinds, eyes widening a fraction when you spot a familiar red and white pick up truck pulling up beside your car.
The throw blanket pooled around your waist slips to the floor when you stand, striding across the room and opening your front door to find none other than Kayce Dutton standing there with his fist raised, on the verge of knocking. He lets his arm drop back down to his side.
“Well this is a surprise. I haven’t heard from you in months, Kayce. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask him casually as you step aside, gesturing for him to come in.
There’s no real weight to your words—you’re well aware Kayce has his work cut out for him between his own family baggage, on top of being a husband and a father. And you’ve been friends long enough that the lapse in time doesn’t make a difference, the two of you always find your way back to each other one way or another. But you can’t help but wonder what’s brought him to your doorstep this late on New Year’s Eve, of all nights.
He steps inside and takes off his hat, placing it on the hook beside the door, and it’s only then that you catch the downtrodden expression on his face that had been obscured by the shadows on your front porch. He reaches up, running a hand through his hair, the gesture drawing further attention to the prominent dark circles under his eyes.
“Sorry, I probably should’ve called, huh? I wasn’t thinkin’. Was just out for a drive and thought I’d stop in, I guess. I can go if you’re busy, though…” he trails off, hands tucked away in the pockets of his jacket.
Gesturing toward your faded t-shirt, sleep shorts, and the thick wool socks on your feet, you shake your head with a rueful smile. “If falling asleep on the couch watching a bad movie counts as busy, you’re more than welcome to interrupt.”
The corner of his mouth quirks upward ever so slightly. “No New Year’s party for you?”
You snort, reaching out to take his jacket from him before he begins to take off his boots. “Who said this isn’t a party?”
Kayce chuckles, and it’s a rich, pleasant sound that flutters down your spine, settling deep in your gut with a warmth that leaves your insides tingling. You’re well past denying the effect he has on you.
He follows you into the living room, settling down beside you on the couch as you tuck your legs up under your body. Turning down the volume on the television, you glance over at him to find a far off look in his eyes as he glances around the room. His gaze slows when it begins to sweep over the collection of framed photographs adorning your mantle.
“Did you break up with Travis?”
You try not to look too far into the way he’d quickly picked up on the purge of any and all photographs including your boyfriend of three years, which had been strewn about the room up until two months ago.
“Back in October.”
He furrows his brows. “You didn’t tell me. I’m sorry to hear that.”
You laugh, a disbelieving look on your face. “No you’re not. He was an asshole.”
He trails a finger over a stray thread hanging from the edge of the knitted blanket draped over the back of the back of the couch. “Yeah, I’m really not. Well what happened?”
“We got into it again over how he wanted to move to Seattle, but as you know, I’ll sell my parents’ farm over my dead body. He was drunk though, and he got a little physical…” you trail off, stomach churning at the memory.
Kayce freezes, posture stiffening, and he growls, “Where the fuck is he?”
You reach out, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing. “I’m fine, Kayce. I promise. It’s handled, and he’s long gone now.”
He runs a hand over his beard. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Choosing your next words carefully, you reply, “You…had a lot going on with Monica, I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Bother me?” Kayce parrots, dumbfounded. “You know I’d drop everything for you, especially if it meant finally having an excuse to kick his stupid ass.”
The conviction in his words makes your chest ache, because you know he means it. You shake your head, smiling weakly. “You were just counting down the days till you’d finally have a chance to do that, huh?”
He sighs, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. You know he fucking hated Travis. “Yep.”
In an attempt to change the subject, you segue, “So now that we’re caught up on my life’s current events, care to tell me why you’re really here?”
He bites his lip. “Can’t a guy just stop in and visit?”
You offer him an unimpressed look. “At almost midnight on New Year’s Eve?”
Covering his mouth with his fingers, he takes a deep breath. It’s then that you notice the ring finger on his left hand is noticeably bare, and you’re almost ashamed of the feeling that flares within you at the sight. He catches the way your gaze flicks to the spot, and he leans backward heavily.
“I can’t do this anymore with Monica. I’m so goddamn tired.”
“Are you…” you begin to ask.
“Done? Yeah. She can’t make up her damn mind, and she keeps draggin’ me along. So I decided for her,” he sighs, fingers reaching out to twist the ring that’s no longer on his finger. “She has Tate tonight, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I hopped in my truck and kind of just ended up coming here on instinct, I guess.”
In that moment, you know you’re both thinking back to all the times you rang in the new year together as teenagers, dashing across your parents’ backyard with sparklers in your hands while you waited for the countdown on the small portable radio sitting perched on the stairs to the back porch.
“I’m sorry. You know that you’re always welcome here,” you finally say after a few beats of silence.
“‘m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I miss you,” he laments.
“I missed you, too, Kayce.”
Kayce goes quiet again for a moment, until he eventually mumbles, “I just…don’t understand why I ain’t good enough.” He scratches the back of his head, letting out a huff of air. “I mean, I guess I know why—I’ve got too much fuckin’ baggage.”
Something in your chest clenches at the painful resignation in his voice, the undertone of self-loathing that lingers in his words. You’ve spent years biting your tongue throughout Kayce’s struggles in his marriage, but now, you can’t be bothered to hold them back.
“You’re not the problem Kayce, you never were. You just love her too much to see that.”
A reluctant smile tugs at his lips as he echoes your sentiment. “You’ve been counting down the days till you could say that, huh?”
Counting down is a goddamn understatement.
“You have such a big heart. You deserve better,” you tell him.
His expression softens minutely, and he considers your words, not breaking eye contact with you when he finally responds. “I think I loved the idea of her and what we had.”
The sadness in Kayce’s tone makes you want to crawl across the cushions toward him, to show him what exactly you think he deserves. But it’s certainly not the time. And it’s not your damn place, either. It never has been.
It never will be.
No matter how badly you may want it to.
Perhaps, if you’d been brave enough to tell him how you felt when you were younger, the unrequited, awkward feelings would have faded with time—something to be blamed on teenage hormones and the fleeting crushes they incite, ones that burn hard and fast, disintegrating quickly like a shooting star.
If you told him now, there’d be no turning back. No shelter to weather the irrevocable damage it would do to your friendship, the devastating chasm it would split open between the two of you.
Because the way you feel about Kayce Dutton is anything but fleeting.
Your phone screen lights up beside you, and you glance down to check the time. Standing up, you gesture for Kayce to follow you into the kitchen. You hop up onto the counter, reaching over to turn on the radio that’s mounted to the bottom of one of the cabinets and fiddling with the dial until the station you’re searching for comes in.
“For old time’s sake,” you grin as an announcer on the radio announces that it’s three minutes to midnight.
Kayce mirrors your expression with a genuine smile of his own, and you’re both quiet as you listen, the only other sound coming from your socked feet bumping into the cabinet below as you mindlessly swing your legs. With your gaze trained on the green digits lit up across the front of the radio, 11:59, you don’t realize that Kayce’s moved until you feel something bump into your knees.
He stands in front of you, the blue denim of his jeans brushing against your bare knees, and you go still, heels pressed firmly against the handle of the cabinet. You can hardly hear the sound of the 10-second countdown beginning over the blood rushing in your ears when he leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek.
“For old time’s sake,” he repeats, laughing weakly and rocking back slightly on his heels as he pulls away. It’s a friendly kiss, you tell yourself, mirroring the ones from your childhood.
5…4…3…
You stare at him, lips parted slightly, fingers tightly gripping the edges of the counter. He takes a deep breath, one hand flexing at his side.
2…
“Kayce,” you breathe out, hardly above a whisper.
The sounds of celebration begin to erupt from the radio’s crackling speakers, and he surges forward, cupping your face in both of his hands, his lips crashing into yours.
Kayce’s mouth moves against your own with purpose as he slots himself between your legs, one hand shifting to cup the back of your head as he strokes the curve of your jaw with the thumb of his other. The scrape of his facial hair against your skin while he kisses you is a welcome sensation, one that you’ve imagined time and time again. You reach up, running a hand through his hair, and a soft sound leaves his mouth as his hand drops down to rest against your lower back, pulling you against his solid body.
His fingertips brush against your skin where your shirt has ridden up, and you shiver at the sensation—the contrast between the feeling of his hands, rough from years of working the farm, and the gentle way he touches you with them. You cross your ankles behind Kayce, pulling him even closer, and his hand trails along your back to firmly grip at your side. His other hand slides across the top of your thigh, and he hooks it under your knee, lifting your leg.
You scoot closer to the edge of the counter and spread your legs wider for him, and heat spreads under your skin at the feeling of his erection straining at the front of his jeans, now pressed against your mound.
Kayce’s lips slow down, pausing in their endeavor to further consume your mouth in the wildfire they’ve started. He presses another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning his forehead against yours, and you lay a hand against his chest, fingertips curling into the pocket at the front of his flannel shirt as his heart beats wildly beneath your palm; the erratic rhythm matches your own.
Breathing hard, his voice is rough when he speaks, “Sorry.”
You take one of his hands into your own, lacing your fingers together, a weak laugh escaping your lips. “That’s definitely not something you need to say sorry for.”
Reaching up, you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his head and press your body into the warmth of his again. He groans, grasping the side of your thigh.
“Tell me what you want then,” he drawls, and fire licks in the pit of your belly as his lips ghost over yours.
“You, Kayce. It’s always been you,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth.
There’s a hitch in his breath, and his hand slides up to grasp your hip, fingers skirting underneath your shirt. There’s a shift in the air between you as he huskily replies, “Wish I’d known that sooner.”
You pull away just enough to look at him, his brown eyes alight with emotion. “Well, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He chases after your lips again, and there’s urgency in the way his mouth seeks out yours in a bruising, all-consuming kiss that finds you arching your back into his scorching touch. You tighten your legs around Kayce, a whine crawling up your throat as the seam of his jeans presses firmly against the thin material of your shorts, rubbing against your hot center. You rock your hips into him, and Kayce moans, so you do it again, but harder.
“Fuck,” he rasps.
You can tell he’s holding himself back, his kisses growing sloppy as his fingers dig into your skin.
“Touch me, Kayce,” you plead.
He doesn’t hesitate, hands sliding up under your shirt, an appreciative sound leaving him when his palms make contact with your bare breasts. He licks his way into your mouth as he teases your pebbled nipples, relishing in the breathy noises you offer him in return. You reach down, shrugging off your shirt, and Kayce’s lips blaze a hot trail down the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down the center of your chest, palming your breasts in his hands while lavishing them with the wet heat of his mouth.
Nerves on fire, you reach out, fumbling with the buttons of his flannel, and he pauses to help you, tugging it off along with his black t-shirt underneath. Your hands skate across his chest, and he closes his eyes as you press a tender kiss to the brand seared into his skin before letting your lips trail toward his collarbone.
Kayce’s fingers caress the inside of your legs, climbing higher toward the apex of your thighs. He slides his hand inside the loose material of your shorts, and you bite down on his skin as he runs a finger over your clothed cunt.
“What about here?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping at your earlobe.
“Please.”
Kayce hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them aside, and a groan rumbles in his chest when he swipes two digits through your dripping folds. He uses his other hand to tilt your chin, kissing you hard as he slips his middle finger into your soaked entrance.
You moan into the kiss, bucking your hips toward his touch, and he sounds more than a little wrecked as he mutters, “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ wet.”
He inserts another finger and slowly begins to pump them both in and out of you while you reach out, hands quickly working their way past his belt to free his throbbing cock from the confines of his jeans. Kayce takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down as you wrap your hand around his length and stroke it, drawing a wanton cry from your mouth as he crooks his fingers inside of you in turn.
You lift your feet up, heels resting against the lip of the countertop, and Kayce takes hold of his shaft, precum leaking from the tip. He swipes the head through your slick folds, notching it at your entrance, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he slowly begins to sink into you.
His mouth hovers over yours, both of you breathing heavily as his cock is steadily engulfed within the tight, wet heat of your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, neither of you moves for a few moments, content to revel in the feeling of the way he feels nestled deep inside of you, stretching you open.
When Kayce finally begins to shift, your body ignites with searing pleasure at the delicious drag of his cock through your narrow channel, his name falling from your lips repeatedly as he fervently kisses your neck while one hand toys with your nipples. Tension coils tighter and tighter in your gut with every thrust, your folds squelching wetly each time his cock disappears into your body. He laps a broad stroke with his tongue just underneath the hinge of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin as your pussy clenches down on him.
The ache between your thighs spreads rapidly through your limbs, and you chase after Kayce’s lips for a needy, desperate kiss as you whine, “Kayce, I’m gonna—”
He grasps the side of your neck, his free hand drifting between your bodies, fingers seeking out the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.
“Come for me,” he murmurs before kissing you deeply, rubbing circles into your swollen clit.
The pressure building inside of you explodes, and Kayce swallows down the strangled noises that pour out of you as you shudder, coming entirely undone with the force of your climax. He fucks you through each electric wave of pleasure, your limbs trembling as his cock continues to stroke your sensitive inner walls.
Your fingers dig into Kayce’s back while his hips begin to stutter, and he moans your name when he plunges inside of you one last time before pulling out, stroking himself as ropes of cum spill from his cock and onto the kitchen floor below.
As the last of his seed drips out, you reach out, tugging Kayce back into your arms, bringing your lips to his. You can feel him smile against your mouth, and he breaks the kiss, peppering more of them across the planes of your face.
“Will you stay tonight?” you ask him quietly, your heartbeat quickening at the uncertainty of what his answer may be.
Kayce grasps the underside of your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him again as your arms encircle his neck, and he lifts you up off of the counter.
Nose brushing against yours affectionately, he murmurs as he makes his way toward the stairs that lead to your bedroom, “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”
—
Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!
» KAYCE DUTTON MASTERLIST
#Kayce Dutton#Kayce Dutton fanfiction#Kayce Dutton smut#Kayce Dutton x reader#Kayce Dutton x you#Luke Grimes#Yellowstone#Yellowstone fanfiction#Kayce Dutton imagines#Yellowstone imagines#dee writes
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A lil random drabble/ficlet prompt or two-- hope your drugged out haze is the best kind ♡
Prompts (take your pick, as many/few as you want):
Warm hands on a cold night
Cotton candy skies
"You said you knew where we were going"
Joel Miller x F!Reader Drabble: Warm Hands, Warm Heart
Tags: fluff, unspecified age gap (post TLOU part 1 Joel, reader is old enough to remember some things from pre-outbreak and is of childbearing age), very brief pregnancy mention
Joel stands on the porch of the old farmhouse, mug of coffee warming his hands as he leans against the railing. It's uncharacteristically warm for a late-February evening in Wyoming, but the air sweeping down from the nearby mountains gives all who have wandered out from their shelter a warning that winter is not nearly ready to surrender to the impending and inevitable spring.
The old screened front door squeaks on its hinges, opening and then closing softly. There is a soft patter of feet on the wood. He knows those steps, has memorized their sound, reminds himself there is no danger here. He relaxes the muscles that tightened subconsciously.
"Thought I might find you out here," you vocalize, letting your presence be known to him, even if you already knew he knew it was you. He's gotten better at this--allowing you the option of being known. He hasn't pushed, not since that one time, years ago. He's never forced you to be in any space you haven't chosen to be in since, especially since finding the relative safety of Jackson and subsequently the farmhouse that lies just to its northern outskirts.
Joel brings his mug to his mouth and slurps a sip before returning it to the gentle hold between his palms. He doesn't turn to look at you, keeps his eyes focused ahead. You join him at the railing, leaning your forearms against the old wood, and look out to the scene in front of you. You're both quiet for a moment, taking in the beauty of your home. Home, that is not a word you ever thought you'd use again, yet here you are, through terror and anguish and more pain than you ever thought you could endure, you survived. And now you're home.
"Sky's pretty tonight," you say. Joel hums in agreement, taking another drink from his cup. "Like cotton candy. God, I haven't thought about that stuff in decades," you continue, laughing a little at the absurdity of the pastel fairground treat in a world this ravaged by darkness.
"Sarah used to love that stuff. Begged for it every year at the big State Fair back in Austin. Hated it, just got her all sticky n'sugared up which always led to skipping nap time and then she'd have a damn tantrum," Joel gives. You've noticed he's been talking about her more easily over the last couple of years. Slowly but surely opening up. "Would always get it for her anyway. S'worth it, the way it made her so happy."
You reach over then and take one of his hands off his mug and interlace your fingers with his own, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Warm hands, warm heart, you think. These hands that have known such violence now softened, holding your own tenderly, tracing your knuckles with his thumb. Hands that create rather than destroy. You bring your hands to your mouth and leave a kiss to the back of his palm, leaving a stamp of your love there and think of all the beautiful things you've already created together, including the one you're not ready to share with him just yet. For now, you just enjoy the moment, cementing the memory of his warm hands and the cotton candy sky and the peace you feel into place. There will be time for the rest later, when Joel will have a new set of tiny hands to help keep warm.
#hope this was to your liking!!!#LJ writes#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel x you#drabble#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you
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