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middleearthpixie · 11 months

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

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

The Harp

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

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

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And yours as well.”

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

“I will be here.”

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

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

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

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

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

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

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

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

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

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

If only…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I’ve noticed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.”

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

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

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

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

Blacksmith

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thorin?”

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

“Might I see?”

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

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

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

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

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

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

“Don’t?”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

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

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

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

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

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Hardly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You what?” you asked softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Richard Armitage #Thorin x reader #Thorin x you #nonny asks #pixie answers

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greeneyed-thestral · 1 year

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#the way thorin turns when bilbo says his name #the last time he had heard bilbo's voice coming from behind him was when he learnt of his 'betrayal'#and now he can't believe it -- after all I've said and done to you you still came for me #the hobbit #hobbit #bilbo #bilbo baggins #thorin #thorin oakenshield #bilbo/thorin #thorin/bilbo #bilbo x thorin #thorin x bilbo #bagginshield #martin freeman #richard armitage #the battle of the five armies #battle of the five armies #botfa

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greenandsorrow · 1 month

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MASTERPOST || HELLO MY OLD HEART (ongoing)

Pairing; mainly Thorin Oakenshield x fem!faerie!reader

Warnings; fighting scenes, descriptions of injuries, death & loss, sexual undertones at times, middle earth magic, lots of angst & hurt, mean!reader, toxic!reader, selfish!reader, immortal!reader, reader with female anatomy, a not sugarcoated Thorin, I have read the Silmarillion and you should too

Summary; Thorin & company set out to reclaim the kingdom of Erebor from the claws of the cunning Smaug. On their way out of Hobbiton they come across something peculiar. Faeries in Middle Earth have gone extinct, but you have managed to survive against all odds. Your unique beauty and mischievous but still kind character captures the king's heart. His suspicions towards your magic will soon be replaced with a deep love for the real you. Are you ready to go on an adventure?

Author's note; I love the Hobbit. I have some issues with the movie adaptation but that hasn't stopped me from rewatching it relentlessly. The book is like a blanket of comfort for me and I've been smitten with the fictional character of Thorin for too long🥹 You can ask to be added to this fic's taglist!

THE HOBBIT

An unexpected journey

NOTHING SO FAR😖

The desolation of Smaug

Battle of the five armies

My OC is completely mine.

Support the writer! Your tips keep me motivated to write & help me go through each day! Thanks🫶 CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

My masterlist

Resources-> @saradika-graphics, @xxbimbobunnyxx, @yeritos, my shifting script from 2022

Tag list-> @concernedcrisis @mrsdurin @meluiloth @fizzyxcustard @shinyshayminflower

DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPOST, DO NOT USE ON ANY AI PLATFORMS EITHER.

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legolasbadass · 3 days

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Office Hours, Part 34

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague.

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: T

A/N: Well, here we are, this is the end of this story! I want to thank each and every one of you who has read this fic, and especially those who left kind comments. There were moments when I thought I might never finish this story, but your support kept me motivated to work on this story. I want to give an especially huge thank you to @lathalea for her endless support, for beta reading many of the chapters, and for sending me lovely photos and gifs of our handsome RA whenever I needed inspiration. I probably would have abandoned the story if it hadn't been for you ❤️

I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and as always, please leave comments! 💙

Read the whole fic on AO3

Two months later

Travellers race by wheeling suitcases and pushing carts through the bustling airport as Richard checks in his luggage. He asks me to hold onto his boarding pass as he rummages through his bag for his passport, and a lump forms in my throat as I read over the proof of our imminent separation.

LHR to BOS. One way.

There are no more lazy mornings in bed or afternoons spent strolling through the city separating us from his departure. No more late evenings of wine and greasy takeaway and cuddles on the couch. No more soft kisses until I fall asleep in his arms.

His fingers linger against mine a while longer than necessary as he takes back his boarding pass, then offers me a soft smile. It does not quite reach his eyes, but I force myself to return it as I fight back tears, not wanting to make this even harder for him.

“So…” I say hesitantly, knowing prolonging our goodbye will only make it more difficult and yet wanting—needing—to keep him to myself for as long as I can.

“So…” The same longing hangs in his voice, and he swallows heavily.

“I guess I’ll walk you to security.”

He nods, then takes my hand in his, squeezing it tight as if that will make up for having to let go before either of us are ready. With each step we take, my heart tightens in my chest, and when we reach the slowly advancing line leading to security, I look down at my feet. I want to look at him, to gaze into his eyes and soak in that handsome face of his one last time before he leaves, but I cannot. I cannot because I can no longer hold back my tears.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

I ignore his plea for a moment and angrily wipe the tears that have escaped before meeting his gaze. His own eyes shine with unshed tears, and he frowns as he reaches out to cradle my face with his large hands.

“Have a safe flight,” I say quietly, knowing my voice will break if I speak any louder. “Try to get some sleep on the plane. And remember—Americans drive on the wrong side of the road. So when you get to Boston, make sure you look the right way when crossing the street.”

Richard chuckles. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Always,” I say, swallowing heavily.

He leans in to press a tender kiss on my forehead, and I wrap my arms around his waist, clinging to his cream-coloured jumper.

“I miss you already,” he whispers into my hair, and the soft cracking of his voice tears my heart in two.

“I miss you, too.”

We remain in this embrace for a long time, exchanging tender, languid kisses, lingering in the moment even though my heart's beating echoes through me like clockwork, reminding me that my attempts to cling to this moment are futile. We are eventually brought back to reality by a family rushing past us, mother and father running toward security, a baby crying in his arms.

“I have to go now,” Richard says reluctantly, slowly disentangling himself from me, though he squeezes my hand so hard I wonder if his fingers will remain imprinted on my palm. “I’ll call you as soon as I land in Boston.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod, but I manage to choke out, “I love you, Richard.”

A single tear rolls down his cheek as he smiles at me. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” Another kiss, my lips quivering slightly. “Alright… I’ll see you in three months.”

I smile at him, focusing on his lips, his beard, and the irresistible azure depths of his eyes. I think of all the times I have gazed into his eyes, all the times I thought I would melt into a puddle from the intensity of the love shining in them. But when he turns away, those memories clog my throat.

Three months.

“Richard, wait—”

He turns around, frowning, and before either of us can say anything—before I can think better—I throw myself into his arms. He effortlessly lifts me off the ground, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispers pleadingly, pressing a tender kiss into my hair.

I had not realized until now I was crying, and I curse my weakness and selfishness. “I’m sorry—I promised myself I wouldn’t do this—”

“It’s alright. I know,” he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Three months will go by so much faster than you think.”

I nod, my face still buried in his neck. “You promise you’ll call me every day?” I ask, my voice muffled by his jumper.

I can almost hear his smile when he responds. “I promise. I’ll even call you twice a day.”

“Well, only if you want to…”

“Lorelei,” he begins in a familiar tone, the one that tells me he thinks I have said something utterly ridiculous and he finds me utterly adorable for it. “If it was only about what I want, I wouldn’t be leaving you for even a day.”

Smiling, I press a kiss into the crook of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent one more time, before meeting his tender gaze. “Then I’ll call you three times a day,” I reply teasingly, and his laughter reverberates through me, soothing away some of the ache in my heart.

“I look forward to it,” he says with the most irresistible smile, and I smile back when I notice the calm trust in his eyes.

From the beginning, Richard has never given me a reason to doubt him, to think that he is not one hundred percent committed to our relationship. But I am relieved that now he, too, has no reason to doubt me. He knows now that I will always be there on the other end of the line whenever he needs. I will miss him terribly, but I will wait for him.

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#richard armitage #richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

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richardarmitagefanpage · 3 months

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linasofia · 1 year

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The Game

Part 2

Fandom: Obsession (Coming to Netflix April 2023)

Relationship: William Farrow x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+

A/N: You can read the previous part here. This is what happens when my muse listens to my friends. You know who you are… 😈😈

I reach the fifth floor, and the gentle voice in the elevator announces my arrival before the doors slide open. Soft, warm–beige carpet tiles lead the way into a long hallway where old-fashioned lanterns illuminate the walls. The dark paint on the walls makes the hall appear more narrow than it is. All doors obviously look the same, but I don’t have to walk far to find the right one. I hold up the key card, and the lock immediately clicks. Room 505 is of a generous size, with a large sitting area and an even larger space for the king-size bed. The room smells faintly of William’s cologne and shower gel, and the wet towel in the bathroom tells me he showered recently. Another of his jackets hangs on a hook by the door, and I can’t resist pressing my nose against the dark fabric. He always smells heavenly good, and having his scent around me like this awakes an even stronger longing for him. I wonder how long he will make me wait for him. The heavy curtains are open, and it allows me to see the setting sun’s breathtaking evening act. The sky is on fire in the west, and the last burning rays of light fall on the treetops like a golden crown. Very soon, it will be dark.

For a moment, I consider closing the curtains, but then I remember the remote location of the charming, old hotel. With the stunning view comes privacy, and to my satisfaction, I discover that it’s impossible to see into William’s room from the hotel. I could walk around without clothes, and only the sky would notice. In fact, that’s exactly what William ordered me to do; wait for him—naked. The memory of his hoarse whisper makes me shiver. I dim some of the lights, not too much, but enough to make the atmosphere in the room even more sensual and luxurious. Then I take off my shoes and place them next to William’s sneakers. My feet sink down into a thick carpet as I walk back to the window. The window stretches all over the wall, and I can see my reflection thanks to the partly dark sky.

I remember the night I first met William. It was between courses at a newly opened restaurant downtown. I saw him the moment he entered through the large glass door. He was with a smaller group of people, and still to this day, I have no idea who they were. I never asked, and he never brought it up. God knows I’m not a patient woman, but that night I waited a small eternity for the right moment to make him aware of my presence. And the perfect moment came—eventually—and the rest is history. I grin at the memory of our heated encounter that followed in a dark alley later that night. It was the result of hours of teasing looks, desire built without spoken words, and neither of us could wait any longer. It did not matter that we had only just met. He took me—harshly pressed against the wall—and I burned in his grip as I had never burned before. When we parted, I knew I had to see him again.

My daydream almost becomes too much, and I sigh in frustration as I reach for the zipper in my dress. I send a prayer that William will join me soon. I have already waited long enough, and my impatience is growing fast. I need him so badly it hurts, but I also know the rules; when he leads, I follow. And he doesn’t approve of me touching myself before our meetings—unless he can watch. The silky fabric slides off me, and the sparkling effect from the champagne in my blood causes me to giggle. As I step out of my underwear and let them join my dress on the floor, I look at the faint reflection of myself in the window. I’m confident with my body. I like what I see, and I know William does too, for his eyes speak a language of their own when he watches me. As I rest my gaze on the almost dark horizon again, I suddenly hear a click from the door. A wave of excitement washes over me, and I quickly turn. He is here.

William enters the room, and I can instantly tell by the look in his eyes what he expects from me; obedience. I smile at him, but his lips don't move to mirror mine. Instead, he takes off his jacket and hangs it next to the other one. All of a sudden, there is a tension in the room—like the air is charged with electricity—and he walks slowly towards me. His gaze is fixed on me, and the way he hungrily takes in my naked curves is enough to make my breathing heavier. I love when he looks at me like that. I am his.

No words are uttered, but I still know what he means when he lifts his hand to brush my cheek with his fingertips. His steel-blue eyes always reveal his state before his body does, and I don’t need words to tell him how I feel. Our love language is of a different kind, and as I submissively lower my gaze, I catch a glimpse of admiration in his eyes. He leans in, just as he did downstairs less than twenty minutes ago, and his masculine, alluring scent speaks directly to my core.

“Are you going to be a good girl tonight?” His voice is nothing more than a low murmur, but I know what he is doing: making sure we are both up for whatever his dark and heavenly-twisted mind is planning. And I love him even more for taking the time to properly care for me.

”Yes, Sir,” My answer falls naturally from my lips, soft as a whisper—but still strong enough to make my consent vibrate in the air. William smirks back at me—the type of smile he makes when he knows exactly where he has me.

”Show me your hands,” he commands. As I turn my palms up and hold my hands in front of me, William grabs my wrists and presses my palms together. ”Like this.” Then he puts one hand in the pocket of his trousers and pulls out a carefully rolled red ribbon. He rolls it out and runs it playfully between his fingers. The silky ribbon is long—long enough to secure more than just my wrists—and the thought sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. I watch him as he wraps the ribbon tightly around my wrists three times. I can’t stop myself from moaning as he pulls the end between my hands to tighten the ribbon. The silk cuts into my skin, not so bad it hurts, but hard enough to remind me that I can’t escape from him. William secures his creation with a knot and gives the backside of my hands a brief caress with his thumb. A playful smile hides in the corner of his mouth, and it makes me want to kiss him. I want to taste his lips and feel his tongue tickle mine. I need him to kiss me like there is no tomorrow until I can’t breathe and have to gasp for air. I know he can see it in my eyes, and he cups my face with both his hands and places teasing kisses on my lips. He breaks our kiss much too soon, but I know better than to protest. If I behave, he will give me everything I want. My darkest desires—which remained a well-preserved secret until I met him—will be answered once again.

William starts to roll up his sleeves. With the facial expression of a displeased workerpreparing himself for hard labor, he reveals his strong forearms to me. They are covered in soft hair, and he knows very well how attractive I find it. Then he opens a few more buttons in his shirt as if he is standing in the blazing sun and needs to cool down. I bite my lip to hinder myself from begging him to take it all off, and I can see in his eyes that it amuses him. ”I know you struggle to be patient,” he suddenly says. His voice is calm—he has regained control over himself, and I secretly admire his ability to take the role of the scolding Master. A smile dances over his lips as a reminder of the bond we share, but then his face becomes stern. ”Turn around.” I obey and meet our reflection in the window. William closes the distance between our bodies, and I lean back on him as he wraps one arm around my chest. I lift my bound hands to try to caress his arm, but he quickly catches me and pushes my hands down again. Then he grips my hair, forces my head backwards, and it makes me collide with his firm shoulder. ”Stand still, or I will make sure you can’t even move an inch.” The threat sounds more like a promise, and I grin to myself. I will do as I’m told—for now. William lets his warm, large hand glide over my upper body, and I let out a pleased sigh. His touch is gentle—like a tender lover—and the contrast to the harsh grip he has on my hair is intoxicating. The small words of affection while he continues his path over my body ignite my lust, and the more I want him to continue further down, the more he teases me. I whimper softly as he grabs me tighter. ”You are exquisite, sweetheart,” William mumbles. As he bends down and scrapes his teeth against my neck, I moan again. ”I love listening to you. Don’t hold back.”

My skin burns when I finally feel his fingers approaching my most sensitive parts, and I press myself against his hand to urge him to continue. But I should have known better. As soon as I grind against his fingers, he withdraws his hand. ”Already being disobedient? I told you to stand still.” I hear the grin in his voice, but then the skin on my thigh stings. I jump at his sudden move, but William is faster than me and tightens his grip around me again. ”I thought you learned your lesson last time but it seems I need to remind you again.” My skin stings again. And then again. My body responds to his rough treatment with an appreciative blush. Then he lets his hand rest on my shoulder, and I know what’s coming. A gentle squeeze follows, and then, a single word; ”Kneel.”

I smile at his command and drop to my knees with my back still against him. The thick carpet is very soft, and I thank the hotel for providing such nice comfort for their guests. In this position, William really towers over me, and he places his hand on my head, almost as if giving me a blessing. I meet his gaze in the reflection of the window, and his voice is hoarse as he speaks again. ”Look at yourself. This is what you want, is it not?” I nod at his question. He buries his hand in my hair and yanks my head backwards. It hurts as I stare into his steel-blue eyes, but I don’t protest. I want this just as much as he does.

”Yes, Sir,” I correct myself as my neck is being stretched. The seconds pass agonizingly slowly, but then suddenly, William lets go of the tight grip. He rubs his fingertips against my scalp in a soothing gesture before he releases my hair, and the subtle comfort he offers makes my heart swell. I sit back on my heels, with my knees spread wide—just as he demands—and waits for him to move. I know he likes to watch me, and tonight, more than ever, it appears. When he finally stands in front of me, he fills my whole vision. With a few of his long fingers, he catches my chin, and when he speaks, his voice has reached that dark, ominous register that reminds me of distant thunder.

”For every time you misbehave I will deny you relief. When you squirm in desperation—remember—you put yourself in the situation.”

William reaches for his belt and unbuckles it. Then he slowly pulls it from his trousers and folds it double. He has not yet used his belt on my naked skin, but the sight of the hard leather in his hand makes me gasp. William, however, seems to have other plans, for he tosses the belt on the floor and proceeds to open the button in his trousers. I enjoy watching him undress, almost as much as I love undressing him, and when he pulls down his zipper, I can’t resist lifting my bound hands toward him. The bulge in his trousers is proof enough of how much he enjoys this, but the look in his eyes when his member is freed from his boxers leaves no room for misunderstandings. He doesn’t have to tell me what to do; I have waited far too long to see him like this, and when he takes a small step forward, I welcome his leaking top with my tongue. His masculine smell and taste are incredibly arousing, and I greedily reach for him. The ribbon hinders me from using my hands the way I want, and I try to twist them to see if William was merciful enough to leave some room for adjusting my hands. He was not.

”No hands,” William groans as I close my lips around the top of his shaft. I don’t dare disobey him so soon again, so I let my hands fall down in my lap. Memories of his latest aftercare come back to me as he lets out a ragged breath. William was a bit more forceful the last time we met and took full advantage of my mouth. Afterwards, when he held me tenderly in his arms, I admitted that I loved every second of it. I also told him he could go harder on me—even force me—if he wanted to. Back then, he seemed to hesitate, but now, as he harshly grabs me, I can sense him coming to terms with my request. William turns so I can watch us both in the reflection. Slowly he pulls out of my mouth and tilts my head so I can see what he sees when he slides between my lips. The slightly blurry picture of us will forever be stored in my memory—whatever happens between us.

Guided by the sounds he makes, I caress him with my lips, lick his heavy shaft, and allow him a gradually deeper sensation. William twirls my hair between his fingers, and after a while, it becomes impossible to see anything in the window. Instead, I try to focus on the silky skin of William’s hardness—and my own breathing. He meets every movement of mine, and his thrusts soon become short and quick. I can hear in his uneven breathing that he will not last long if he continues.

A small stream of saliva escapes my lips as William suddenly steps away from me. I gasp for air as if I have just crossed the finish line in a cross-country race. Without a word, he grabs my arms and pulls me to my feet. ”You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters in an unrecognizable voice as he squeezes my arm. Something in his voice makes me actually believe him. He would do anything for me. William’s gaze still bores into mine as he starts to undress. As he removes his shirt and pulls down his trousers, impatience stir inside my body like a slumbering lioness waking up. The struggle to remain obedient grows, and I love the smirk William gives me. He knows what he’s doing to me, and I have a feeling he plans to enjoy it to the fullest. When he finally is naked, he grabs me by the elbow and leads me away from the window.

The large duvet is still untouched—William did not even throw his belongings on the neatly made bed. With a single push, I fall backwards on the bed, and he follows me and catches my wrists before I find a decent position for myself. As he uses his weight to hold me down, I can feel how incredibly warm he is. Effortlessly, he pulls my bound hands over my head, and the promising gleam in his eyes sets me on fire. ”Remember what I said,” he hisses before he gives my earlobe a playful bite. ”Your behavior will impact the outcome of this night. Be good—or be bad. It’s up to you.”

”I’ll be good for you, Sir,” I moan as he drags his nails along my arm, from the silky ribbon all the way down to my ribs. If I were less aroused, it would tickle, but now he leaves a burning trail on my skin. William lets out a short, raw chuckle. I know he doesn’t believe me—I don’t even believe it myself. His hardness presses against me, and I spread my thighs wide for him. A soft pleading slips from me. I didn't mean to beg, but my all-consuming desire has a will of its own. He only needs one hand to hold my arms in place over my head, and the other one explores every part of my heated body. The way he touches me—an overpowering combination of sensual and demanding—builds an aching feeling in my core, and soon he has me squirming under his hand.

”So eager,” William mumbles as he moves his hips in position. The bulging veins on his forehead strain against his skin and reveal his silent struggle to control himself. I know he wants to bury his full length in me, and I arch my body as an invitation. His long fingers gently wrap around my neck. With his thumb, he caresses my soft skin, and when he feels my frantic pulse, he adds a slight pressure. I gasp and try to move, yet he does not even blink as he sucks in air between his teeth as a warning. I trust him with every fiber in my body, but my heart leaps in my chest when he pierces me with his burning gaze. The way he suddenly claims my body makes me cry out. His swelling girth meets the slick resistance of my body in the most breathtaking way, and William’s groan echoes in my ears. I lose the air in my lungs as he presses me down, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. His fingers dig into my skin as his grip on my arm tightens, and every thrust echoes within my body. William’s breathing blends with mine, and our fire—the flaming desire we ignited months ago—will burn until there is nothing left of us. In the inferno he creates, I lose my grip on reality and float into the unknown as an ancient explorer on a damaged ship. Captured beneath him, all I can do is follow his moves, and he leads me on a path neither of us was prepared to follow. His face is filled with love, but he craves more—much more—and every time I think we will join in bliss, he denies me what I need. Heaven knows I try to be good, but there is something about the way he takes me, and it makes me completely forget all the rules. William seeks to punish me. I close my eyes in agony as I feel him repeating his torture, and I howl his name in desperation as he almost pulls out. At this moment, I don’t know if my love or hate is strongest, but the more I twist my hands, the deeper his ribbon cuts. My restraints hinder me from touching his body, but the groans he makes as he slams his hips against mine again sound painful. Finally, he suffers too.

It starts as an ache, then builds to a sweet pain, and my body silently screams for relief. I will never understand what William senses, but he knows so well where my limits are. I stand on the edge of my own release—ready to cry if he denies me again. But this time, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he focuses all his efforts on the one angle that has me trembling. His words of praise and promises give my climax the final push over the edge, and we both fall—in a wordless cry—into the pool of ecstasy where our souls once again melt together.

Nothing but our joined breathing can be heard as he stills. My heart hammers wildly in my chest, but it’s his soft kisses on my cheek that I feel the most. With a gentle hand, he caresses my hair and mumbles words that my heart longs to hear. His voice is thick and filled with emotions as he looks into my eyes and swears his love to me once more. And I allow him. It’s easy to forget about reality when your body is filled to the brim with satisfaction. As he slowly sits up between my thighs, I study him. He is the most handsome man I have ever seen, and for now, I ignore the world outside his luxurious hotel room. William releases my wrists and carefully rubs my sore skin. My hands are a little numb from being bound so long, but his tender treatment soothes more than he might realize. Then he lifts them to his mouth and gently kisses the thin skin on the inside before blowing softly. ”You should not struggle so much, it burns your skin.” The concern in his voice fills me with a different kind of warmth.

”I don’t mind a few marks, you know that,” I reply with a teasing smile.

”I would lie if I said I don’t like seeing the marks on you, but I prefer if they don't become a problem for you—for us.” His confession doesn’t come as a surprise to me, and I watch him in silence as he rubs his thumbs over the angry red marks. Tomorrow they might be a reminder of our heated night. William is still out of breath, but to him, my comfort is more important.

”It will not become a problem,” I quietly assure him, even if I know that is a promise I will not be able to keep. The marks on my body are nothing compared to the obsession escalating between us. We are currently both ignoring it, but it would be insane to deny that we are in serious trouble. Our type of love always comes at the highest price. And sometimes, it hurts.

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

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly @lilith15000 @clumsy-wonderland @theawkwardbutterfly @exhausted-humxn-being @beenthroughalot @chaikittie @piscesvancouverite @sotwk @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy @mrsdurin

#richard armitage #william farrow #william farrow fic #william farrow x reader #william farrow x you #obsession #obsession netflix

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luna-redamancy · 1 year

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Hiya there!

I absolute love your writing and am newly completely hooked on your Thorin fics!

I was wondering if you could do a fluffy Thorin x Reader, just after BoFA where reader I had fought in the battle with Thorin and got separated from him. The battle ended and reader is going crazy with worry, just starting to really panic when Thorin shows up, completely oblivious to the heart attack he caused the reader for disappearing in the middle of a huge battle.

Feel free to ignore! I just hope you know how much I look up to your writing and hope you continue to bless us all with it!

Hello my dear Nonnie!! First things first- thank you so much for enjoying my writing!!!!! I genuinely appreciate it and it fills my heart with happiness to know it brings you so much enjoyment. I hope you enjoy this!!! (I almost said "now onto business" and it made me think of Gomez Addams from the first Addams family movie from '91, and now I'm tempted to watch it...)

“Thorin?!” You yelled out, the icy air making your lungs hurt as you deeply inhaled to yell out again - but for now you paid it no mind. Corpse after corpse littered the battlefield and you felt tears sting the back of your eyes every time you looked into their lifeless ones.

Fear gripped at your heart, worry that the next body you came upon would be Thorin’s. Beaten, bloody, rigid as his soul was taken to Mahal.

“Thorin!” You shouted out again, tears welling on your lash line as you made your way up a hill. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, no, you two weren’t ever supposed to be separated. That wasn’t the plan.

Hope was like a flickering candle, one strong wind and it’s blown out. Feeling your own resolve flicker and waver, you closed your eyes, tears trailing down your cheeks leaving them feeling warmed as if Thorin’s spirit was cradling your face from the other side.

“(Y/n)!” You heard in the distance, but you kept your eyes shut as you held on to the sensation, taking homage in the brief comfort.

“(Y/n)!” The voice grew closer, “(Y/n) where are you?!” Bilbo’s voice was full of concern and worry, but finally- he finally found you.

“There you are!” Bilbo raced up the hill, grasping at your shoulder, bringing you back to reality.

“Bilbo?” You questioned him as the worry and panic you felt once before came rushing back. “Have you seen Thorin?”

“He’s in a medical tent with Fili and Kili–” You took off down the hill, racing across the battlefield to the medical tents as Bilbo ran behind you, desperate to keep up.

“Thorin!” You pushed your way into the medical tent, relief filling your soul as you saw him perched on the edge of a bed, having his shoulder wrapped up with bandages.

“(Y/n), I had just sent Bilbo for you, quick one he is-”

You felt like ice drenched your skin, your breath quickening as you took in his calmed state.

“I thought you were dead.” Was all you could get out as the medical staff exited the tent to give you two privacy.

“I have been searching that battlefield for hours, Thorin,” You whimpered, tears welling on your lash line once more.

“I was expecting to find your corpse, you dis…You disappeared on me,” You began to hyperventilate, turning to the side to grasp at a chair that sat in the corner, closing your eyes to take deep breaths.

“Amrâlimê,” You didn’t even hear him get off the bed, nor did you hear him approach as he carefully collected you into his embrace.

Pressing you against his chest and having your ear press right above where his heart would be. The steady thumping began to calm you as he pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry, amrâlimê,” He murmured apologies as you cried against him. “I am so sorry.”

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#thorin x reader #thorin x you #reader-insert #thorin x y/n #the hobbit #fanfiction #Richard armitage #fanfics #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfics #botfa #everybody lives au

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sorisooyaa · 2 years

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Looming Anniversary - June 27th

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Wife!Reader

Movie: The Hobbit

Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @lathalea

A/N: Dedicated to all of us that desperately wants to give Thorin a hug!

You sighed and made your way over to your king and husband. He hadn’t been listening to a word you were saying for some time now. You had even left the room a few minutes back. He had not noticed your exit nor your return.

He sat there, on the chair of his study desk and gazed off into the distance. His eyes forgetting the present and being immersed in whatever his mind played as he gazed out into the outside. The cold draft blew in through the open doors of the balcony and he hadn’t even moved to close it, he simply gazed out into the view it gave him, but it wasn’t the low clouds or the wind that danced with the tops of trees, and bristles or fallen leaves he watched.

What he watched was in his mind’s eye and made him fade away from this world, mentally, because physically, he was still here. But how can one truly be here without bringing themselves to feel and react to the emotions a moment in time had brought forth?

You carefully placed your tray on his desk, and the aroma of the strong tea and freshly baked biscuits filled the room, but it was only when your hand had accidentally brushed against his did he awake into the moment again.

“Amrâlimê...” It was a heavy whisper laced in light shock as his eyes travelled to you, taking in both yourself and your movement. You smiled softly at him and grabbed the chair he had always set aside for you.

Sitting down carefully, you rested your hand on his, allowing your thumb to caress his strong calloused hands. These hands travelled through battlefields with the tight grasp of heavy weapons, powering through, channelling his bravery through every fight, but they also loved and caressed those close to his heart, one he cherished. So, you should know, for these hands held you tenderly close at night, keeping you warm and safe, made you come undone with their gentle but fast and firm strokes, caressing your skin as if they were silk on silk, and wiped away every tear that ran down your cheeks.

“I thought you would like some tea,” You said, cheerfully and grabbed the teapot. This time Thorin watched you, carefully, as you poured the tea into the mug, you were well known for those clumsy hands throughout this kingdom. They weren’t strong and made for heavy lifting like every other dwarrowdam, for you were half-human, inheriting all but your height from your mother.

You placed the mug carefully on the table and brought his hand towards it, he willingly let you, before he grabbed it himself and took a long gulp. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth, a little worried, hoping it wasn’t too hot to burn his insides.

“Don’t,” Thorin scowled, releasing your bottom lip from the hold of your teeth. The habit teased him endlessly and once he dove himself forward to release your lip with his own teeth, before pulling you in for a heated passionate kiss that led the both of you into bed for a night of ecstatic moans and whimpers.

Today, however, there seems to do much weighing on his mind to even think of making love, even though he would still gladly grant you the permission if you requested. But you didn’t, knowing it was the comfort he needed right now, rather than a release, the both of you can set that once aside for later... or after.

“Alright, but will you tell me what plagues your mind, husband?” You asked as you dipped a piece of biscuit into the tea and brought it to his lips.

He took it, the taste of it bringing little to no comfort to him, then, Thorin had signed out, “Nothing, dearest.”

You frowned, but it slowly turned into a light glare and you cupped his face gently, turning him to you, “Don’t lie to me,” You spoke the words sternly, “We are married, your bearings are also mine, husband. Do not keep yourself locked up from me,” You said, your thumbs caressing his face, and he hung his head down in shame, but your brought his gaze back to you, “I’m your one, know that I’ll never judge or dishonour you, for you are the breath of my life. I love you just the way you are, and I would like to comfort you in your time of need, just as you do for me.”

Suddenly, a broken sob reached your ears, and your heart sank, shattering at the sound of your strong dwarven king and husband breaking down in your arms.

“Husband? Thorin?” You pleaded, trying to brush past his tears and address whatever was their cause.

“The days are nearing to that time once again,” Thorin released his words in a strangled sob, a part of him shamed to allow tears near his beloved; allow him to destroy the walls he kept high and let you see the broken dwarf behind it all, but you were his one, his wife and queen, if he dared to share a tear or any broken part of himself, it would be with you, for he trusted you with everything within himself.

“Tell me, what days are nearing again? Thorin?” You gently brushed his hair and wiped away the tears streaming down his face and over his bearded cheeks.

“The days my grandfather was killed, how we lost so much and more during the battle of Moria, the disappearance of my father... everything!” He growled out, trying to keep his tears at bay.

“Oh, Thorin!” You immediately stood, and wrapped him to you, letting him bury his face into your body as you gently rocked him and ran a hand through his hair. He snaked his arms around your waist, gripping you tightly as he released a sob, that he had been trying to hold in. The sight fractured your heart into tiny pieces it was almost impossible to put it back together, at least not until you saw your husband smile again. You know by ‘we’ he had meant himself and his sister.

“Oh, my love,” You whispered. You wanted to ask for how long he had been holding this in, shoving it down into the pits of his heart like it did not matter and keeping up the appearance everyone expected of him.

But that was now important right now, “It is alright, their souls are safe. They have lived and taught you everything they possibly could. They are proud of you. You have come a long way. You, Thorin, my dear husband, raised your small family of your sister and her sons, reclaimed your once lost home, gave meaning to your nephews’ lives, and allowed your sister to seek out happiness again, with Dwalin. You have done so much, and more,” You held him closer, and kissed the top of his head.

“When my mother passed,” You began slowly, remembering the day how she had grown weak and frail; the final moments before humans had passed into the unknown, “My father told me, ‘when you loose someone... you gain a star, and they will look over you, shining in the sky for you’ live by that Thorin,” You whispered, holding him tenderly close.

You had dearly wished that Thorin and yourself had found each during those times. Therefore, from the very beginning, he could have sought the comfort he longed for. In all honesty it was Fíli and Kíli, that found you in the old human village, lost and in need of a blacksmith to strengthen your father’s sword.

They had led you to their home, a small wooden house at the end of the road. There, your future beloved was sitting on the couch just returning from his work, and Dís was within the kitchens trying to cook. Then, almost every day of the week you travelled to the other side of town, something drew you to him, and a part of you knew darn well, but could he take you, half-human and half-dwarf in?

While Dís and yourself had become quick friends, in seeing that you were close in age, only a few years younger than herself, with Thorin ,it was harder to befriend, even though you had caught him watching you from afar many times.

It was barely a year before the quest before Thorin had strode over to ask your hand in courtship; it utterly surprised you. You would have sworn you would have fainted, if you hadn’t been sitting down already. It was odd how suddenly Thorin asked you to mee him at the flower meadows outside of the town. Thorin asking your hand in courtship was the last thing you had expected, but nevertheless, you had accepted.

When Thorin had left you for the quest, you pleaded with him to take you with him, but he insisted you stay, for the outcome of this journey was uncertain. He had left you that night with a long passionate kiss, unable to promise you anything. You cried for days, not knowing his whereabouts or whether he was alive or not.

When Erebor was finally reclaimed and Thorin had barely made out alive through the dragon sickness and the battle of the five armies, the first thing he had done upon your arrival was ask your hand in marriage. It shocked you to the core, for you had only been courting for a barely year, but, you had still accepted. Even if many others would have said it was too soon, the timing was perfect for the both of you because you know this story was meant to be. And Thorin had promised himself he would marry you if he made it out of this alive, that was the only thing keeping him going throughout the quest.

But even then, you had wished you had met him sooner, it was cruel what the world did to keep the both of you waiting until the damned end when your soul was already broken and unwilling then; only then were you allowed to meet. It wasn’t fair how your husband could not grieve, expected to go on and become the new king and leader. Not one moment could he cry out the pain and anger. He was forced to suppress it under every thing, until now, it finally broke free, channelling through him in waves of anguish.

You sighed as Thorin let his emotions run their course. Your dress had long soaked with his tears as he kept his face buried into your stomach, but you couldn’t care less, trying to offer as many words of comfort and warmth as you possibly could. Your fingers ran through his wavy obsidian curls, holding those silvery-white streaks, and gently you continued swaying softly. You pressed soft loving kisses to his head and face, anywhere else you can; breathing him in.

Some moments later, you heard the heavy and slow breaths Thorin tried to take in. Tt was an attempt to calm himself down. For a moment, you felt his arms loosen before... as quickly as they came loose, they tightened back around you. It was as if he was second-guessing himself. He was holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him together.

“May we stay like this? For a moment longer?” He breathed out softly, kissing a kiss to your stomach.

You smiled, whispering back to him, “Of course we can, Thorin, my love…” You pressed another kiss to his head and lingered your lips there for a long moment this time around, wishing and hoping your love and affection were enough to blanket him from memories of old. Simply, you kept your arms wrapped around him snugly, holding him close and without any judgment, only the pure love you had for him. And you prayed it would bring him the comfort he deserved.

#armitage summer splash #richard armitage #thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin x wife!reader #thorin x you #thorin x y/n #the hobbit #post-botfa #everyone lives au #Hope you like <33 #soriyaa graphics #shalinizhara graphics

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theblogofdurin · 2 years

Text

Cloaked in Green || Pt.2 || Chp. 25: Bolg & Bard

word count: 1.3ishk

summary: more intel on the story of Arathorn and Gilraen, while Aranea reveals what has been going on to her most trusted company man.

a/n: sorry for the unexpected hiatus and short chapter. I promise to do better. College has been rough and I have midterms coming up so it might be a bit before I post again. So Please Like, Reblog and comment down below and I'll talk to you guys next time.

Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Oc

links-> series masterlist, chp.24, reader guide.

--○•○•○•○--

“Bye Mama!!” the little voices yelled in unison in the back of the wagon, as they leaned over the railing on the bed.

“Behave for your father!” Gilraen waved a finger sternly at the tiny heads “Or I won’t hesitate to lop off your rear ends when you get back”.

Despite her tough exterior with her warning, Gilraen is panicking on the inside. This would be the first time the twins were leaving the camp, and it was the first time she would be separated from them for more than a night. She was nervous, to say the least.

Arathron had another meeting in Imladris and per tradition, on the Eve of the next Heir's-(or in this case, Heir(s)'s-) 6th birthday, the family would travel to the Hidden Valley for the elven blessing and earning of their Sindarin names. However, the twins' birthday falls in line with the Harvest, and with the amount of work there is; Arathron and Gilraen decided it was best for one of them to stay behind. Gilraen being the obvious choice.

“We promise, Mama!” Little Aragorn grinned over at her, causing a small laugh to escape her. ‘Exactly like his father,’ she thought, ‘ ever the charmer.’

“We’ll be good” Little Aranea grinned the same grin as her brother, causing another laugh from their mother. There was no denying that despite Aranea's longer mid-back hair, and Aragorn's shoulder-length hair, they were practically identical despite being fraternal.

“We’ll be okay, Gil-.” stated Arathron as he threw in the last prevision bags in the bed of the wagon, a bigger version of the same grin rested on his face. “-We’ll only be gone for a week or so.” He came around the wagon to place a comforting grip on her shoulder, kissing the top of her head.

“Just be safe,” she spoke softly up at him.

“The safest.” he grinned before pressing a soft kiss onto her lips. Gilraen smiled happily into the kiss, resting her hands comfortably on her husband's chest as his hands went to rest lower, nicely and smoothly on her hips.

“EWW” the twins sounded off. Rolling his eyes, Arathron pulled away with a soft goodbye to his wife before turning around to the giggling kids.

“Alright, you heathens." he chuckled at them teasingly. "-let’s get on the road.”

“YAY!” tiny cheers erupted from the bed as he climbed up to the driver's seat, reaching for the reins of the two beautiful draft horses at the front.

“Bye, love,” Arathron smiled as he flicked the reins, Gilraen blew a kiss.

“BYE MAMA!!” the twins yelled as the wagon began to move, Gilraen smiled as she waved her hand.

“Be safe!" She blew more kisses, "-And Listen to your father!”

Floating down the river in a barrel was all part of the plan.

However! Floating down the river in a barrel with Bilbo was NOT part of the plan.

Aranea groaned mentally as she adjusted slightly in the barrel. Bilbo squeaked as his back pressed into her chest like a small child.

“Anything behind us!”

“I think we’ve outrun them!” Balin yelled, wiping the water off his face. “I can’t see any movement in the treelines!”

“It won't be for long!” Bofur yelled back. “We lost the current!”

“And poor Bifur is already half drowned!” Bombur's loud baritone voice yelled after his brother. Looking behind her, Aranea almost rolled her eyes, at the sight of a pair of boots sticking up out of the said dwarf’s barrel.

“Make for the shore!” Thorin’s voice answered. “Let’s go!”

Paddling farther up the river, Aranea spoke softly to the hobbit in front of her, "Hold on to the edge," before sliding out of the barrel.

"Aran-" Bilbo started as he watched with wide eyes before stopping when he realized…she was standing.

Up to her waist in the river, Aranea pushed slightly on Bilbo's barrel to usher him closer to shore, before moving downstream to pull the others closer.

“Come on!” she yells over to Nori and Ori, waving a hand to encourage them to move faster.

Behind her, Kili falls to his knees in pain from the arrow wound in his thigh. Fili immediately rushes to him.

“Ki?” he gasped as he saw the blood. Oin immediately rushes over. They began quickly bandaging the wound, as they whispered among themselves.

Aranea got up to the shore following Balin, pulling her hair behind her, in a ponytail fashion, as she spoke quietly up to the dwarf in front of her “Balin..” she gestured, “I need to talk to you.”

“Not now lass; but I am glad that you are back with us.” he added as he dragged himself up the rocks.

“Balin, this is serious,” she stressed as she rushed up next to him.

Not that far away, only hearing the tail end of their conversation, Thorin spoke loudly, “Agreed, There’s an orc pack on our tail; we need to keep moving."

“To where?” Balin threw his hands up as he gestured around them. "And how?"

“To the mountain; " Bilbo pointed up to the western sky, "we’re so close."

Moving the hobbit's hand to point North-East, Balin sighed exasperated “A lake lies between us and that mountain. We have no way to cross it.”

“So then we go around.” Bilbo threw up his hands

Dwalin growled softly, “The orcs will run us down! As sure as daylight." Pointing over at Aranea who was slightly surprised as the dwarf continued. "Besides Aranea, the rest of us don't have any weapons to defend ourselves."

“Bind his leg quickly." Thorin ordered Oin, who looked up from his position in front of Kili, "You have 4 minutes.” the older dwarf nodded sharply. Quickly moving over the Prince's leg, he got too worked up.

While they bind Kili’s leg, some of the dwarves sit down around the rocky shoreline and Ori kneels by the river to empty his boot of water. Still, behind Balin, Aranea tapped the kind dwarf on the shoulder. “Balin, please."

Balin was surprised by her persistence "Alright," he agreed, turning to look up at her. "-what is it?"

Aranea gestured over to the rock that dripped over to the far side of the shore. Nodding, Balin followed Aranea as she led him over to the edge, where none of the others could see them.

"Yes?" He asked quietly as they both turned to each other.

"I know that this is strange, but you are the one I trust the most." she started, causing the dwarfs' eyebrows to raise. "And there are just some things that I am not sure the others need to know right now." She whispered, "But one of you should know, and as Thorin's advisor you will know when the time is right to tell the others." Balin nodded, chewing on his lip lightly as he did. He heaved a sigh before speaking

"No one can blame you lass from being hesitant about Thorin after-"

"He's different." Aranea interrupted. Causing Balin to look startled. "I'm not sure how but.." she shook her head lightly. "...I can tell-"

Balin was surprised, and again sighed heavily before nodding. Finally, seeming to accept the sense of foreboding in his heart.

"That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about." Aranea added after Balin didn't say anything. At his eyebrow raise, she continued. "There is something that is happening, that's been happening that you all have been made unaware of."

"What are you saying, Aranea." He spoke her name. The protective dwarf qualities that he was born and raised to listen to were running full speed as he eyed her.

"There was a reason why Radagast needed to find Gandalf so urgently that morning after the trolls. Somehow it was connected to the reason why a messenger was waiting for me at Rivendell." She swallowed as Balin visibly swallowed with her. She was making him uneasy with her wording.

Resting a gentle hand up on her shoulder to try and help calm the poor lady, and in turn himself, Balin spoke quietly and now urgently.

"What is it, lass." He punctuated the ending.

Aranea closed her eyes as she spoke slowly, “The Nine kings have risen out of the High Fells.'' She opened her eyes as she felt the dwarf's hand fall from her shoulder.

"The Watchful Peace is over." She added after a beat. "The enemy has risen again."

Unbeknownst to the rest of the company. A few minutes passed, talking amongst themselves as Oin made as quick of work on Kili’s leg as he could.

A tall figure was walking up slowly behind Ori, the gentle scribe was picking pieces of wood and river grass out of his hair as the unknown man aimed.

Dwalin, out of nowhere, holding a branch, leaps in between the figure and Ori. He raises the branch and begins to charge the man, but the man shoots his arrow and it embeds itself right in the middle of the branch between Dwalin’s hands. Kili raises a rock to throw, but the man shoots the rock out of his hand too.

“Do it again, and you’re dead.” the man ordered as he drew back on his bow to aim over the others.

Quite smoothly, a cold blade was placed on the man's neck from behind. The stench of orc blood not going amiss by him as a female voice growled sharply.

"I can speak the same for you, lakesman."

The man smiled before he spun his head, ducking under Aranea’s blade. But before he could strick, her foot landed a swift kick into his knee, bringing him down on the other. Bringing her sword to the front of his neck; resting it in the junction between the sharpness of her blade and the dull metal of her cross-guard.

"Now, do you wish to try that again or do you plan on actually listening?"

The man nodded, grunting slightly.

"Good. Now I'm going to empty your quiver and sheath my sword." The tone of her voice was still harsh and unforgiving, “-Then we are all going to have a civil conversation before parting ways. Deal?"

The man choked slightly, causing Aranea to loosen her hold slightly. Internally the man was quite confused by this very strange woman. Before he finally nodded, grunting

“Deal.”

=//=//=//=

taglist still open! @lokigirlszendaya @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @emrfangirl @lathalea @hr-nm-grnd-zr @markosgirl @demigoddesofchimichangagod @imaginesfire @kaysteahouse @tamnight @mithrandirssidehoe @panhoeofmanyfandoms @petrelrose @irisv-x @fandoms4everyone @Leabeiersdorf07 @nunyobuisness @fallinloveinoctober @mysterypotatoink @whore-of-many-hot-men @generalgoldfishldrm @thevanillahorizon @cloudcatchingstark @wolfers-stuff @depressedemo-152 @triffidgurl @nessarosefiction

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hellothereobi · 2 years

Text

Looking for Hobbit fanfic on AO3

It was a Thorin x original female character where he teaches her about sex/pleasure. It starts off at Beorns house I believe. It was superrrr smuttty

#thorin x you #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #fanfiction #ao3 writer #richard armitage x reader #smut #the hobbit #lord of the rings #hobbit fanfic #thorin x oc

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fizzyxcustard · 10 months

Text

Under Your Spell

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, a little angst (with a happy ending)

Word count: 1571

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You put a spell on Thorin to make him fall in love with you, but as the spell wears off, you find out that he has always loved you." Requested by @asgardianhobbit98

Written while listening to Journey's Greatest Hits.

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

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my posting hiatus. I felt like it was needed to get back into a better mindset after I become incredibly overwhelmed by another one of my fics' reception.

The last twenty four hours had been beyond perfect. The spell which you had been keeping for the last few months, ready for the chance to use, had worked better than you could have imagined. Thorin had declared undying love to you as the sun set; the two of you having just shared dinner together with a large group. Then once on your own together, he had been so open in his affection toward you, blushing and smiling as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“I love you more than anything,” he had told you, confident and bold. He had taken your hand, kissed it, then asked for you to join him on the royal balcony.

The two of you had sipped wine, while Thorin gazed at you over the top of the glass, unable to tear his gaze from you.

You shared tender kisses, hand holding, and Thorin had held you as you fell asleep. Then you woke in his arms, warm and content. He had been watching you, and as you woke from your slumber, he smiled at you and kissed your head.

All of that day and you had remained in Thorin’s presence, sharing meals, conversations, kisses.

“Would you join me again tonight on the balcony? It is forecast that we should have a clear night sky.”

“Of course,” you had replied. Only now, sadness began to seep from your words, unable to hide any further. The realisation that all of this would be over at sundown was growing heavy in your heart and gut. The spell would only last for one twenty four hour period, and could only ever be used on one person once in their life. After sundown, and Thorin would return to his former self, purely a friend to you and your King, nothing more than that.

It was almost sundown, and you excused yourself from Thorin’s chambers, telling him that you wished to quickly write a letter to a friend. He just smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration, as you disappeared out of the door.

As you walked the corridors back to your bed chamber, you felt tears fall down your cheeks. The pain was so heavy and hot in your chest. Just to have Thorin adore you for twenty four hours had been perfect beyond any kind of comprehension. However, the fall back to reality was going to be excruciating. In time, another woman would have Thorin fall for them, and this time it would be of his own choice.

You lit your candles and sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the vase of roses that Thorin had had brought to your chamber. They could now be disposed of as they would just serve as a reminder of your pathetic need to have Thorin love you.

All sense of time slipped away from you as you fell asleep on your bed, still fully dressed. Once you had lay out on your bed, you had not moved. Tears had flowed, pulling you into your subconscious world where you could be happy temporarily.

Dreams came and went, flickering pictures of far off lands that you had explored with the Company, months earlier, where you had fallen for their leader. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off swords and the calls of armies became a jumble in your mind.

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting. The candles had gone out hours ago. There was a dull thump behind your eyes and you winced, blinking hard.

For a second, you felt as if you were still in a dream somewhere. You could feel something resting on your waist, curled around. Blinking again, you looked down and could make out a hand. On the middle finger was a ring.

You gasped and shifted away suddenly, almost dropping out of bed. “What?” you choked.

Thorin was lying on your bed, and was now rousing. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of you. “Come back to bed, my love,” he said sleepily. “It’s still early.”

“But…how?”

He just smiled again and sat up. “You think a spell could make me love you?”

“How did you know about it?”

“I’ve known about it quite some time now,” he replied. “I will not name any names, but I was made aware that you acquired the spell from someone in Lake-town, did you not?”

Shame hit you hard and you lowered your head, feeling the tears fall once again. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And now you are playing along to mock me; the spell wore off at night fall yesterday.”

Thorin got up from the bed and followed the edge of it towards you. “Why would you think I’d ever mock you?” He stood before you, his head to once side in question and disbelief that you could ever think such a thing.

“I was stupid to ever think you could love me,” you hissed.

Anger flared in Thorin’s eyes and on impulse he grabbed your hip and threw you both into a kiss. It was hot, demanding, needing. So much unlike the day earlier. All you could do in your weakness was cling to him, your backside resting against your dresser. He was pressing into you harder now, his tongue desperate in your mouth.

Thorin drew back from you, his blue eyes ablaze. They were no longer soft like the day before, but they were on fire. That had always been the true Thorin, and as you had known him for the last six months: passionate, on fire. He pressed his forehead to you and then kissed it.

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand become buried in your hair. His other hand was still on your hip. There was a desperation in his actions. The day earlier and he had wanted to be in your company, to look upon you. Now, he needed to touch you.

The two of you kissed again, hard and needing. You could feel your inhibitions let go, and your hands became tangled up in his hair, your breath lost, your heart pounding.

He whispered your name, needing you.

Within minutes and the two of you were back on your bed, disrobed and exploring each other. Thorin’s lips caressed every inch of you, and when he was kissing down the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. “Why did you ever think you needed a spell to capture my heart? It was always yours.”

The two of you joined, exhaling in relief at the pent up frustration. Thorin was over you, his one hand gripping yours. To feel him connected with you, feel him inside you, giving himself over to you by choice, that was the true magic.

Your bodies were synchronised, moving together in rhythm so well.

Each and every time Thorin’s gaze connected with yours, and you could see the love for you there. It burned. The spell you had cast had diluted his true love, and his gaze the day earlier had been as if he weren’t quite in the room with you. Now he was present for every second.

Every thrust was now making you build upward towards climax. The sensations feeling as if waves were cascading down your body, until the last one took hold. It came from the base of your stomach, and shattered outward. You shook, and as you rode out that one spectacular wave, Thorin kept his gaze locked on you.

The sensation of you gripping Thorin’s girth in your plateau pushed him over the edge, and he spilled. He dug his head against your neck, groaning at the wondrous pleasure that washed over him.

Both of you fell down beside each other, panting and sweating. Thorin reached for you, and you rolled over to him, and put your head on his chest. “Is that what true love feels like?” you gasped.

“No spell could ever replicate that,” Thorin said softly. “When you first placed the spell on me, it was as if I couldn’t control my words, and no longer could I keep my feelings for you secret. But the expression of my love for you, it…I cannot describe it. It was as if it was dulled, and when dusk came, the spell having ended, my heart and my body burned for you again, like it always had. The spell stopped me feeling that love in a true sense.”

“Why did you never tell me how you felt?” you asked, propping yourself up on your arm.

“I was terrified of rejection. The spell at least took away my cowardice.”

“You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and yet you couldn’t tell me you loved me?” you asked, not quite able to believe such a revelation. “You lead a kingdom, and armies, yet you couldn’t tell me three simple words.”

Thorin sighed. “You did not tell me either.”

“I had reason not to,” you scoffed. “You’re a king. Declaring your love to a king and expecting them to love you in return is just ridiculous.”

You saw that anger flare in Thorin’s eyes again, and his jaw clenched. “I am a king in name and by my birth right. But I am no different to you in heart. There is only one that I bow to, and that is my wife and Queen. And those positions will only ever be filled by one person…you.”

***

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#richard armitage #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #thorin x you #thorin x reader #thorin x fem!reader #Thorin Oakenshield x you #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader

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middleearthpixie · 1 year

Text

Asks Master List

A Walk in the Woods - Thorin x reader (Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives)

Absolute Beginners ~ Thorin x reader (Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives)

In This Moment ~ Thorin x reader (Desolation of Smaug Slight AU)

Blind Date ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU

Stroll ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 2

Dessert ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 3

Lockdown ~ Guy of Gisborne/ John Porter Crossover AU Part 4

Cake ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 5

Hot Apple Cider ~ Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Fireworks ~ John Porter x Reader

The Fountain ~ Lindir x fem!reader

Moonlight ~ Lindir x elf!reader

The Escape ~ Thorin x ofc Carys Greenleaf

The Escape, Part Two ~ Thorin x ofc Carys Greenleaf

The Harp ~ Thorin x fem!reader

Fair Enough ~ Éomer x fem!reader

#Richard Armitage #John Porter #Guy of Gisborne #Thorin Oakenshield #The Hobbit #Strike Back #Robin Hood #The Hobbit fanfic #Strike Back fanfic #Asks #Robin Hood fanfic #Crossover Fics #Thorin x Reader #Thorin x you #Guy of Gisborne x you #Guy of Gisborne x reader #John Porter x Reader #John Porter x you

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greeneyed-thestral · 1 year

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aduialel · 2 years

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Armitage Summer Splash - Day 7

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Artwork found from Pinterest "As A Lonely Raven" by wyldraven in Deviantart

Trope: Soulmates

RA character: Thorin Oakenshield

Taglist: @lathalea @fizzyxcustard @linasofia

If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know. 😊

Event moodboard masterlist

#armitage summer splash #thorin #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #thorin x you #thorin x reader #richard armitage #soulmate moodboard #soulmate aesthetic

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legolasbadass · 2 months

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Office Hours, Part 32

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 2k

Rating: M

A/N: Thank you all for your kind comments on this story, both here and on Tumblr. This story is quickly coming to an end, but I hope you will enjoy the last chapters! 💙

With an exhausted sigh, I drop one of the last boxes into the living room and take a moment to catch my breath. The early afternoon sun floods into the house from the tall bay window, casting beams of light onto the overflowing bookshelves and the pale couch. Boxes are scattered all over the place, and the sound of loud voices coming from outside and the thudding of heavy boots against the old wooden floors disrupt the usual tranquillity of the house, but it is still home.

Home.

The last few days have not been the most restful. Since the end of the term and the college party a few days ago, Richard and I have spent every waking moment packing my belongings, making room in the house, and correcting exams, and we have not gotten nearly enough sleep, but the fatigue and stress do not compare to the happiness that fills me.

I make my way toward the front door, but before I know it, a pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind and pull me into a warm but sweaty chest.

“Oh, God—you’re all sweaty!” I exclaim and try to wriggle out of Richard’s embrace.

His rumbling laughter reverberates through me as he leans in to brush his lips against my earlobe. “That doesn’t usually bother you.”

Warmth floods my cheeks, but before I can respond, William peers down from the bannister overhead. “I’m right here.”

It is Richard’s turn to blush, and we giggle in embarrassment as William walks down the stairs and back outside. William, Claire, and Beatrice all kindly offered to help us with the move today, and I certainly do not want to leave them to do all the work, even if there are only a few boxes left in the truck. But as I turn around to face Richard, I cannot yet will myself to go back outside. His cheeks are red and his hair is an irresistible tousled mess of curls, and I cannot refrain from running my hand through it as he smiles at me.

“We’re going to live together,” he says, his gaze warm.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” I reply teasingly, earning a look of fond annoyance from him.

He chuckles, then squeezes my hands. “You’re not nervous at all? No second thoughts?”

“Of course not! Why, did you expect me to have second thoughts?”

“No, I just—it’s a big thing.”

Unable to stop myself, I grin and glance down at his groin. “Yes, it is a big thing.”

He laughs as another blush blooms on his cheeks. “You’re impossible,” he says, shaking his head, though the affection in his eyes is undeniable.

My mischievous grin widens as I revel in the playful embarrassment I have managed to cause. “But seriously,” I begin, traces of laughter in my voice, “I’m not nervous and I’m not having any second thoughts. I’m so thrilled that we’re going to live together.”

His smile softens, and he leans in to gently kiss me. “Me too.”

William’s voice reaches us from outside. “Come on, lovebirds! Stop snogging and grab some boxes!”

Chuckling, I give Richard’s hand a final squeeze before dragging him outside, though I wish I could spend the rest of the day kissing him. The air is thick and humid under the bright afternoon sun, but thankfully, after Beatrice and William make another trip into the house, only one box remains in the truck, and Richard effortlessly lifts it as if it were not filled with tons of heavy books.

“Well, that’s the last of it,” Claire says with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you so much for all your help!” I say as we follow Richard into the house.

“Anytime! It’s the least I could do to repay Richard for all the times he’s helped Will and I move in the past.” She looks up at Richard as he drops the box into the living room. “Remember when you helped Will and I move into our first flat?”

He chuckles in remembrance. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does!” she responds with a nostalgic sigh before turning her gaze back to me. “It was right after I graduated from uni. We moved into this horrible tiny flat in the Leicester city centre that was always cold and had no storage space, and I nearly broke up with Will because he never picked up after himself, and it was driving me crazy.”

“Typical Will,” Richard says with a deep, rumbling laugh, and Claire rolls her eyes in agreement.

“And the worst part is that he’s still like that! I hope for your sake, Lorelei, that this clown is tidier than his brother.”

I chuckle. “Well, Richard can be a bit messy, but he tends to contain his mess to his office, and as long as it remains that way, it’s fine with me.”

“Day one and you’re already the boss in the house, are you?” Richard retorts playfully as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. “And I’m not messy—you’re just a neat freak.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!” Beatrice chimes in as she walks down the stairs, causing them to laugh. “We only lived together a few months and I honestly think any longer might have ruined our friendship.”

“Bea!”

“It was all ‘don’t dry your hands with that dish towel’, ‘you haven’t vacuumed your room in two weeks’, and ‘take off your shoes on the rug, you’re trailing mud all over the hallway’.”

“Stop before Richard changes his mind about living with me,” I respond with an embarrassed chuckle.

But I have nothing to worry about as Richard pulls me into a hug and says, “Don’t worry. You’re my little neat freak, and nothing anyone says is going to make me change my mind.” He then presses a tender kiss atop my head, and I blush as Claire and Beatrice smile knowingly.

“Well, Lorelei, you are officially moved in!” William announces as he joins us in the entry. “But don’t worry—we still have the truck so there’s still time to change your mind and run. Because I’m telling you, my brother can be difficult to deal with.”

“Rumour has it you’re the one who’s difficult to live with,” I respond teasingly.

William tilts his head questioningly, then narrows his eyes at Claire. “What lies have you been saying about me now, Amy Dunne?”

Chuckling, she raises her brows in challenge. “Just that even our five year old son is often tidier than you are, which is not a lie.”

“Only because you’re always nagging him to clean up his messes,” William retorts.

“Well, at least one of you listens.”

“Behold, our future,” Richard whispers playfully in my ear, causing me to giggle.

As the scorching summer sun makes way for a refreshing evening breeze, we all work tirelessly to unpack as many boxes as possible. We leave the endless boxes of books for later and tackle the kitchen first, and soon enough, all the counters are covered in dishes waiting to be organized into cabinets, forcing us to eat dinner in the living room, plates piled high with pizza. I grow silent when the conversation inevitably turns to Richard’s imminent move to Boston, selfishly wishing we could pretend for tonight that he is never leaving. Richard is clearly proud and excited about this new opportunity, but when he rests a hand on my thigh and squeezes me tight, I know he, too, wishes the same.

Eventually, I make my way upstairs to continue unpacking in the bedroom, letting him enjoy his success and discuss his plans with the others. I am halfway through a third box of clothes when a knock on the door interrupts me, and I turn to find William standing in the doorway with a hesitant smile.

“I was just coming to get some boxes to put in the recycling bin,” he explains, pointing to the pile of empty boxes in the corner.

“Great, thanks!” I say. “But you can leave one or two here—Richard might need them to pack some of his things.”

William nods, then pauses. “You doing ok?”

I turn to him after folding a jumper into the drawer. “I’m doing great,” I answer with a slightly confused frown.

“I mean, it can’t be easy—with him leaving for a year.”

“Ah. That.”

William nods slowly.

“Well… I wish he didn’t have to go, obviously,” I reply with a humourless chuckle. “But he has to—I want him to! I’d have to be really stupid to try to stop him, and I’d have to be even more stupid to give up on what we have because of this.”

“My brother’s lucky to have you.”

I smile, unsure how to respond.

“I mean, to be able to count on you through all this…”

“Are you referring to his ex Rebecca?” He nods. “Well, it’s different… We’re different people and—and he’s not asking me to uproot my whole life for him. It’s just one year, right?” I shrug again, trying to convince myself that it is not as difficult as it is.

“Right.” A few moments of silence later, William chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come up here and get so serious. I just—I like you and I think you and my brother are great together. And I guess this is my weird and really awkward way of making sure you’re doing ok and reminding you that my brother’s a great guy and I think he’s worth the wait.”

“He definitely is. And thanks,” I reply with a shy smile.

He smiles in return, then clears his throat. “And hey, I know I’m not Richard. I mean, I’m funnier and more good-looking than him,” he begins with a playful smirk, causing me to chuckle. “But if you’re ever feeling down or whatever, and you want someone to talk to or hang out with while he’s away, I’m here. I can tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories about him.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I might take you up on that.”

At that moment, Richard steps into the bedroom, and the brothers exchange a look before William leaves us alone, winking at me as he walks through the door. Still smiling, I turn to Richard, and the love I feel for him, and the joy of moving in with him momentarily chase away the ache in my heart. For now, he is still here, within arms’ reach, and I can pretend that this day is only the beginning of our new life together and not bringing us closer to our separation.

With a soft smile, Richard closes the space between us, and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent as he wraps his strong arms around me. We remain in this embrace for a little while as the sun slowly dips below the houses at the end of the street, but eventually, Richard breaks the silence. “He’s not really funnier than me, is he?”

My laughter echoes through the room as I look up to meet his eyes, which sparkle in the golden warmth of this summer evening. “No, of course not, love.”

A playful grin lights up his face. “Good.”

Then he slowly leans in, and, understanding his intention, I stand on my tiptoes to meet his lips halfway in a tender kiss. He holds me tight, the fingers of one hand gently tracing patterns on my back while the other cradles my face, pulling me even closer and urging me to part my lips. I shiver as his tongue caresses mine, still marvelling at how easily he can awaken desire within me. Eventually, we are forced to break the kiss, and he rests his forehead against mine, his tender eyes slightly darker than usual.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

“I love you, too,” I reply in the same tone, pressing a lingering kiss onto his bearded jaw.

“We’ve made some pretty good progress with the unpacking already, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Good. So how about I start hinting that we’re getting tired so they leave and we can be alone?”

I chuckle at his suggestive tone. “I like the way you think.”

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @sazzlep @albionscastle @evenstaredits

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#richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

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