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starks-hero · 1 year

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Avert Your Eyes from Your Demise, Though Lovely It May Be

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x human!Reader

Summary: In which giant spiders aren't the only threat Mirkwood has to offer.

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: they're high on Mirkwood mist the whole time. Do with that what you will.

Translations: Siúlóirí portaigh - bog walkers (Irish) , amrâlimê - my love (Khuzdul) , lansel - love of all loves (Khuzdul)

a/n: I know movie Thorin is described as 5'2ish but I write him as 4'8 - 4'10 because it's more book accurate and because we should embrace this short king. Anyway, I call this 'the intimacy of going insane with your crush.'

You couldn't shake the unease. Even now, as you sat at the edge of a clearance, bark biting harshly into your back, you could almost feel the forest closing in on you. Shadows scurried above you and the air itself was stale.

Your company of fifteen had quickly fallen to a number of just two, with only yourself and Thorin making it through the mist-clouded trails together. Neither of you were certain what had become of the others and given the eeriness of your surroundings, you didn't want to give it too much thought.

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the clearing and the limbs of the trees creaked inward. It was as if the forest was breathing.

“We have to find the others,” you said. Your voice sounded foreign and far off.

Thorin was pacing in front of you, twisting the hilt of his sword in his hand. “They would know well enough not to linger in these woods. We keep heading East.”

“Which way is East?”

“We follow the river.” You didn't miss the beat of uncertainty before Thorin's answer.

You shook your head. “We don't know where it leads.”

“It will lead us away from here which is good enough.”

Almost to emphasize Thorin's point, the surrounding trees creaked and groaned and another shadow scurried overhead. Caution steered your hand to the hilt of your sword and following Thorin's order, you moved on swiftly.

The forest felt too small and too large all at once. Branches knabbed and tore at your clothes and skin, the twisted limbs of rotting trees giving you no option but to duck or crawl beneath their roots. A glance skyward reminded you that this place, in all its foulness, was unending, the tree canopy stretching miles above your head and blackening out the sun's light.

That was if the sun was still up. You'd lost track of the time what seemed like hours ago.

You came to a sudden, harsh stop as your front rather unceremoniously met Thorin's back. With a quiet grunt, you found the reason for stopping was a tangled thicket of twisted branches that now stood before you. The tree, in all its obscure glory, seemed to consume the path entirely, its limbs too thick to cut and trunk too tall to climb. Too tired to think of a solution, you found yourself uncharacteristically willing to give up. Until Thorin shrugged off his furs.

You watched as the grey fabric rolled off his broadened shoulders and revealed his shirt, knotted pattern running up the arms.

“I'll go first,” he took the liberty of explaining as he bunched the furs together and placed them in his pack. “It will be easier for me to get out should I need to.”

You would have liked to argue but Thorin, a regularly stubborn fool, was surprisingly right. He was shorter, his limbs less likely to snag. His dwarven frame would move through the thicket much easier than your own.

He disappeared into the grove, swallowed by bark and darkness and you already found yourself questioning why you let him go alone.

You kicked at the dirt beneath your feet as you waited. Eyes set on the trees, you felt increasingly uneasy. You picked at the leather of your sword sheath. Thorin was a capable warrior and you didn't doubt his ability to defend himself. But something wasn't right, you could feel it, crawling on your skin and putting your hairs on end.

Giving in to impulsiveness, you followed after Thorin.

The branches clawed at your skin and snagged your clothes. You pushed aside what you could, rotting wood giving way easily beneath your palm, but as the many limbs began to swell into trunks, it became increasingly difficult to move. Your chest was pressed uncomfortably against the rough bark. You were never one to fear tight spaces but the sudden inability to take a deep breath came as an unwelcome shock. Just as panic had you reaching for your sword, relief found you in the form of the dwarrow prince.

With renewed determination, you mustered a final push and freed yourself from where you were wedged.

Thorin stood with his back to you, stance stiff. You called his name and he hushed you quickly.

His eyes were set on the tree line ahead of you. His gaze was hard, analytic and you didn't fail to notice how his fingers grazed the hilt of his weapon. He turned to you.

“Do you not hear it?”

“Hear what?”

As if the bugle of battle had been sounded, Thorin's stance shifted and in one swift, fluid movement, he drew his sword. His free hand guided you further behind him. Then, he shot forward, swinging his sword at an invisible target. His expression was one of determination as well as unmistakable fear. Another aimless swing and he turned to you.

“Can you not see it?!” He barked, frustrated at your unwillingness to help.

You raised your head and all but willed yourself to see anything but the winding trails of the forest. But despite how hard you employed your imagination, you saw nothing. Somewhere in the treeline, a bird took flight.

An uncomfortable recollection settled in the forefront of your mind. A shiver ran up your back.

"Thorin," Your hand cautiously fell against his shoulder. He turned to you with fire in his eyes but your expression made him pause. “Gandalf said a dark magic lay over this forest.”

At your words, his defensive stance melted away and defeat took its place. The elvish blade fell from where it was held at his side as he looked around and the fear in his eyes slowly shifted to confusion, then realisation.

“It's toying with our minds?”

You swallowed. The thought made your skin crawl; the idea of the forest as its own conscious entity was a horrifying one. That its magic could sink its claws into your mind and deprive you of your senses, keeping you walking in circles till your feet gave in. The entirety of Mirkwood was one giant spider's web and you hated to think what that made you and Thorin.

“We just need to keep our wits about us and our feet moving forward,” you managed eventually, casting weary glances towards the trees. "Now that we know what's happening we have the upper hand, we stay together, stay vigilant and keep our minds clear."

Thorin felt the sudden need to commend you for your calm demeanor and sudden leadership. But he'd also just attempted to fight a non-existent enemy so he decided saying anything at all was against his better judgment and settled for a curt nod instead.

Your plan fell apart comedically fast. You tried to remain optimistic but as you passed the same tree stump for what must have been the fourth time, you felt as though the forest was laughing at you. Your feet ached as though they'd been walking for days. You could hear each of your breaths echo as they came and the thud of your boots against the earth shook your bones.

The child-like laughter had started not short of an hour ago. Thorin couldn't seem to hear it.

When the rough terrain of rock and dirt softened into the cold, squelching mud of a bog, you both silently agreed that a break was needed. You sat at the end of the wetland, where the moss and reeds sprouted up between damp rocks. The water was gloomy, tinged grey and dark green with a sinister mist resting upon its surface.

The dreariness of the place seemed to seep into your bones.

Thorin sat an arm's length from you, hands braced against his knees as he looked out over the bog with a sullen stare.

“What do you see?” You asked.

“Fire." He said no more and you didn't pry.

In an attempt to ease the aches that had set deep in each of your muscles, you pulled your water canteen from where it hung against your pack. A cool drink of fresh water would be a small but welcome relief that you wouldn't take for granted.

But the liquid was thick and warm as it touched your lips and when you pulled it away it was coloured red. You tossed the canteen away with a grunt of disgust. It unceremoniously met the surface of the water before sinking into the mud.

“We need to leave this place,” you said, hands threading through your hair and pulling at the roots. Thorin didn't argue.

You walked until you felt the leather of your boots threatening to give way. You thought one of the trees you had passed seemed familiar, distinctive enough from the rest of the foliage that it stood out.

“We've been here before,” you said. “We're going round in circles.” You turned to on your heel and found no sign of the dwarf.

“Thorin?”

The eerie silence of the forest echoed back to you.

“Thorin?!”

The feeling of unease returned tenfolds. Shadows crawled above you and the wind quivered through the trees. The mist had worsened, hiding your feet beneath its thickening grey clouds.

But then, like a lifeline being tossed to a drowned sailor at sea, you heard your name. Far off and faint, but your name all the same. Spoken in a voice that flooded you with relief. Calling after him, you followed the resonating sound of his calls until they led you to the point where the water met the soil.

Logic quickly took a back seat as your desperation to find Thorin had you stepping off the path. You sunk immediately, the bog swallowing you up to your knees. You pushed through the thick, sluggish mud, ignoring the burn it caused in the back of your legs. The voice became clearer until his form finally appeared, carved out from the mist.

"Thorin," you greeted him with a smile. But Thorin's expression did not mirror your own. His brows were drawn together and every ounce of air vanished from your lungs when an unsteady hand reached out to cup your cheek.

“I was so worried." Your name fell brokenly from his lips. "I feared I'd lost you.” His hands, shaking and trembling, ran down your arms then back to the swell of your shoulders. His breathing was labored and you could only imagine what Thorin must have witnessed to put the usually stoic king in such a state.

“You're alright? You're not harmed?"

You shook your head and gently grasped Thorin's wrists and he smiled, softer and more sincere than you had ever seen him. The sight made you feel at ease for the first time since stepping foot in the forsaken forest.

"I am glad, Amrâlimê.”

You were not well versed in the culture of dwarves but you were no fool either. You had heard the word spoken among the dwarrow people you'd crossed paths with in the Blue Mountains, noticed the tenderness and sincerity that always encompassed the word, how it was never said with any amount of offhandedness. The word was a confession itself, a confession of the highest kind.

And Thorin had just spoken it to you. As if it were the simplest thing on Earth.

Your confusion must have been evident as Thorin smiled again, the corners of his eyes creasing in amusement.

“You must not look so surprised, my love,” his thumb grazed your jaw. “That I should wish to call you by such a name.”

“What–” You managed in a clumsy attempt to make it known to the dwarf in front of you that you had no idea what was going on. “Thorin.”

The king didn't answer. Rather he kept his eyes fixed on you, coarse fingers working their way from your jaw up to your temple, then brushing just beneath your eye. He touched you as if you were made of something more precious than all the metals held in the great halls of Erebor. And despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind, in that moment you would have been content to stay there.

In the bogs of a cursed forest with your friends lost and your mind bewitched, all so that the king would keep looking at you as he was now.

But your better judgment, (or more likely, the uncomfortable feeling of mud and bog water dampening your clothes,) brought you back to reality. You moved to speak again but Thorin stopped you.

“It's alright, we're safe here, you and I,” he promised. “You needn't think of anything else.”

You tried to ignore how believable his words sounded as you took a step back. Hurt flashed in the dwarf's eyes.

“No, no we need to find the others. The company–”

“–will find their own way,” he calmed you, hand reaching out again to touch your shoulder. It sent a jolt of warmth through you. “You carry so much, endlessly worrying for the well-being of others. But you needn't burden yourself any longer, lansel. You know what it is you desire, what you deserve. So take it.”

You closed your eyes at his words. His hand found the back of your neck and you allowed him to draw you in closer.

“Let it be just us. Stay with me, Amrâlimê. That's all I ask.”

You had never felt such temptation in all your years. Would it truly be so wrong of you? To allow yourself to have this after all you'd persevered. You had long given up trying to convince yourself that you felt something for the dwarven king. That his bravery, stoicism, and unbridled loyalty to his people didn't fascinate you. You had wanted Thorin since not long after the journey's beginning. And now he wanted you too. There was no reason to keep this from yourself, no reason you shouldn't have it.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, was the persistent reminder that something was wrong. A reminder that resurfaced in the form of Bombur's cooking and Bofur's songs and Balin's stories and Bilbo's immeasurable trust in you. Your friends were still lost and that proved enough to bring you back to rationality.

“Thorin,” you started sternly.

“Forget them,” he said, as if he already knew what you were going to say. “Forget everything else. It is just us now. All is as it should be.”

You felt a tinge of discomfort at his words and you took another step back. Thorin would never forsake his kin, not if he was in his right mind. He traced your cheek again and this time you grasped his arm in a strong enough hold to pull it away.

You caught sight of his hand out of the corner of your eye and what you saw made you feel ill. The skin was rotting, bones threatening to tear through their paper-thin bonds. The fabric of Thorin's clothes had vanished and your nails had sunk into the rotting flesh which had begun to fall way in your grip.

You yanked your hand back in disgust, tripping and falling backward into the water at the sight of the creature. A gaping hole sat in the center of its face where you imagined its nose should be and a rigid crack served as its mouth. Green threads of damp mossy hair sprouted from its head and hung in front of the hollow cavities of its eyes.

An Siúlóir Portaigh. A creature you hadn't crossed paths with since you'd last traveled East of Gondor.

A bony hand reached out for you and you shot yourself backward, scrambling to your feet. Thorin's deep voice had been replaced with a low rasping gurgle, the sound growing louder as the creature lunged for you.

You turned and ran.

Thorin's voice had grown hoarse from calling your name.

He had turned away for one moment and you were gone and now as he searched, he feared to think what may have become of you.

His feet sunk into the ground beneath him, water reaching his ankles and soaking through his boots. Reeds sprouted up from the water, the smallest brushing his knees and the tallest towering a foot above his head. With a grunt, he pushed on.

The wind howled as it passed through the hollow chamber of the reeds and Thorin felt the hair on his neck stand up. Then, a shadow passed in front of him. He instinctively reached for his blade. It pushed through the long grass as it approached him but the glint of familiar armor has him dropping his sword.

“Thorin!” You beamed as you reached him. “You're alright. I lost sight of you in the fog.” You grabbed hold of his arms and Thorin was taken back by your sudden brashness. “I'm so glad I found you.”

He watched you for a moment, his joy at finding you unharmed outweighing the odd tinge of suspicion he felt. He cleared his throat and tilted his head forward in a curt nod.

“We must get back to the others.”

He turned to walk on but your arms held him in place.

“You needn't worry, they'll be alright,” you said casually. “As will we.”

Thorin offered a baffled look that doubled as a warning. He was uncertain what had caused your uncharacteristic forwardness and in all honesty, wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

You raised your head skyward and smiled again. With no shortage of confusion, Thorin followed your gaze

The sun had come back up and its light was seeping through the leaves above his head. The forest's canopy turned golden, as if set alight by dragon fire. Thorin's expression softened.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Your hand found his own. “We could stay here, Thorin. You and I. Imagine it.”

Thorin blinked. He could stay here, with you. He could tell you everything he'd been longing to say since the escape from the goblin tunnels and the orc ambush on the cliffside. After all, why shouldn't he? Did he not deserve this after so many hardships? You could truly be together, you could offer him a new start, a new home– Thorin blinked again.

“And what of Erebor?”

You seemed amused by his question. You brushed his braid away from where it hung against his jaw and Thorin surprisingly let it happen.

“Erebor lies half a world away, a buried kingdom of dust and despair in the clutches of a dragon. Is it truly worth so much? Worth so many lives lost,” you asked. “We have everything we need here.”

And Thorin could only think about how right you were; your hands in his, the feel of your fingers brushing his hair, the rising sun and golden leaves– he could want for nothing else.

“Do you not want for this?”

“I–” he tried.

“You have done honorably by your people, Thorin, but you have been selfless for far too long.” He closed his eyes as you spoke. “Choose not what is right by them but by you. No more pain, no more fear.” He could feel your breath against his cheek. “Just us. Stay with me, my love.”

And Thorin decided in that moment that he would.

Your legs ached and your lungs burned.

The bog was becoming harder and harder to navigate but you were yet to find Thorin and you did not plan on stopping till you were certain he was safe.

The water grew shallower and you took it as a blessing. With your lower half free of the mud, you drew your sword. You rounded the trunk of a decaying tree and were met with a horrific sight.

Thorin, with decaying hands grasped round his neck and a deformed maw nearing his face. Thorin stood in a trance, eyes glossed over and body stiff. The siúlóir's mouth widened, rotting skin tearing as it did. Its nails dug into the side of Thorin's neck, harsh enough to draw blood. Still, he didn't move.

You acted on impulse. With a quick lunge forward, you drove your sword through the creatures back, twisting it twice before pushing it deeper.

Its screech was inhumane. It grasped at its wounds, its guttural yowls putting your hairs on end. You ran it through again. The siúlóir went quiet and Thorin screamed out.

“No!” His voice was distraught, his hands grasping at the creature as it slumped to the ground. “No–!”

“Thorin!” You grabbed his shoulder and roughly yanked him back. He raised his head and looked at you as though he'd seen a ghost. “It's alright– it's alright, it's me.”

His gaze fell back to the creature at your feet and given the twist of horror and disgust in his expression you figured he was now seeing it in its true form.

“Siúlóirí portaigh,” you muttered under your breath. “Bog walkers.”

Thorin blinked before taking in his surroundings with frantic eyes. He regarded you with a cautionary look. He said your name and when you nodded, you saw his stance relax slightly. His fear turned to confusion. “What–”

“They were going to drown us,” you answered plainly. You nudged the creature's shoulder with your heel and watched it sink a few inches into the water. “We need to go, this place will be crawling with them.”

Thorin wanted to question how you knew so much about such monsters but given how desperately you wanted to leave their hunting ground, he prioritized.

He offered one last glance at the creature, body now mostly submerged in the sullen water. He shuddered at how well the creature had worn your face, how much its voice had mimicked your own. How easily fooled he'd been.

He silently followed after you.

You walked until the mud on your clothes had hardened and the silk webs coating the trees had all but vanished. The leaf canopy above you had thinned out and the surrounding forest was now warm with the sun's light. The moment you heard a nearby bird song, you knew the dangers of Mirkwood had passed.

Thorin rested against the trunk of a sapling. His gaze was focused on something over your shoulder but given the blankness of his stare, you knew he wasn't looking at anything at all. You took a seat at his side and began to tend to his wound.

A nasty gash ran from the back of his neck to just below his throat. You worked silently. Thorin didn't even seem to notice until you applied a fraction too much pressure and with a sharp intake of breath, he turned to you.

“Sorry.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Thorin spoke.

“What did you see?” he asked you. “That creature, it toyed with my mind, showed me things I longed for that I hadn't even admitted to myself. So what did it show you?”

“Nothing.” The lie came easy. “Nothing of worth. I've dealt with siúlóirí before, they feed you lies, draw you in and then drown you before you even realise you're in danger. Whatever you seen, I wouldn't linger on it.”

Thorin seemed almost saddened by your answer. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, he gently brushed your hand away and got to his feet.

“We keep heading East.” The usual stoicism had returned to his voice. “Dwalin would know to do the same. If we do not regroup with the company in a day's time we head back the way we came and search.”

You nodded and got to your feet like a soldier following orders.

And as you fell into step beside the dwarf you thought maybe it would be best to take your own advice. To pass what you'd seen off as baseless lies not worth thinking about. But the feel of Thorin's shoulders brushing your arm reminded you that would be no easy task.

You entered Mirkwood wondering if what you felt for the dwarven king was more than just fondness. Now you were certain.

quick authors note: I invented the siúlóirí an portaigh for this fic and the name translates to ‘bog walkers/walkers of the bog’ in Irish. It was pretty fun combining two of my interests, writing and folklore, to create my own mythological creature :)

#I like to imagine that reader is dúnedain #and that Siúlóirí Portaigh inhabit the dead marshes po #because i love adding unnecessary lore to my fics 😌#thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin x you #thorin x y/n #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fic #lotr fic #lotr imagine #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit

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thesecretwriter · 1 year

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my king, my love - thorin oakenshield

pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x female reader

warnings: angst – a fight with thorin, fluff – sweet moments from thorin & smut – in a library, minors dni.

summary: in which y/n and thorin are courting each other, and though they live in the same kingdom, they have never felt more apart.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: as promised, here is the thorin oakenshield fic. I will forever be a thorin Oakenshield loving girl.

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists

“All I’m asking for is some time with you. I barely see you anymore,” you express sadly.

Thorin is aware of his absence from your side, and while he wishes he could spend every waking moment with you, the kingdom requires his attention too.

“The kingdom is thriving under you rule. Since the war of the five armies you have not rested,” you say frustrated.

“Amrâlimê… please,” he pleads with you to understand.

You have been nothing but understanding to Thorin. He needed to put himself first.

“King Thorin, you’re needed for a discussion regarding the trade,” one of the kingdoms advisers said interrupting you and Thorin.

You look away in defeat, you knew he would go to the discussion regardless.

He stepped toward you, but you retreated.

“You should go,”

He can hear the defeat behind your words.

With one last look to you, he followed the dwarf.

“I thought after the war things would be better,” you tell Bofur as you help him in the kitchen.

“His just doing what he believes is right,” Bofur tries to reason.

“Hasn’t he been doing that since the beginning?” you ask sadly.

Bofur smiles at you sadly.

“I think we should bake a cake,” Bofur suggested, he was trying to make you feel better and knew your love of sweet treats.

“That’s a good idea,” you smiled at him and began to take out what you needed for baking.

“Just a little taste,” Thorin heard Kili’s voice echoed through the halls.

“You better not, I will wack you with this spoon,” he heard you threaten.

Growing curious at the commotion, he followed the source of the noise and came to the sight of you trying to pry Kili away from your mixing bowl.

“Hello uncle,” Kili greeted.

You grew tense at his words and took that as your chance to continue mixing.

“What’s happening here?” his question was directed at you, but Kili answered.

“Our dearest y/n here is baking. She refuses for me to have a taste of the batter,” Kili complains.

“You better stop worrying her before she really does wack you laddie,” Bofur chuckles as Kili swipes his finger into the batter.

You gasp and hit him upside the head.

“Ow,” he rubs his head but enjoys eating the batter.

Your eyes finally meet Thorin’s eyes which hold longing in them.

“Your majesty,” you greet him by bowing your head.

Everyone in the kitchen freezes.

Not once have you ever addressed Thorin as that, he always made it known that you were his equal.

“Everyone out now,”

Everyone exits immediately. Just as you’re about to do the same, Thorin’s grip on your arm stops you.

“Not you amrâlimê,”

When he knows the other dwarves are out of ear shot, he turns you towards him and settles his hands on your waist, pulling you to him.

“You know I see you as my equal,” he murmured and moved a few stray strands away from your face.

“I’m addressing you as what you are, our king,” you say with no emotion.

“Please don’t say it like that,” he says sadly.

“Like what?” you say sharply.

“Like that is all I am to you,�� he shouts.

“Isn’t that what you are?” you ask stubbornly.

He signs tiredly.

“To everyone else, yes, but to you I am Thorin,” he leaned in and settled his forehead to yours.

You don’t say anything else to him. He finds comfort in the silence and having you close to him.

“I miss you,” you whisper.

“I’m right here,” he insists pulling away.

“Yes, but you’re not here,” you take his hand and settled it on your heart.

His own heart skips a beat.

“What are you saying?” he asked scared of what you might answer.

“It feels as though I am not bound to you, as though you’re not my other half,” your words break with a sob.

Only then did he realise that you were crying.

“I am and always will be yours,” he assures you.

You can’t take the overwhelming of emotions you are feeling, so you step away from Thorin for some space.

“My heart has belonged to you since the beginning,” he says further.

“No Thorin. Your heart belongs to the kingdom, and maybe I’m being selfish in saying this, but I have not felt your love as of late,”

Thorin is rendered speechless by your words.

You knew your words hurt him, but this all you’ve been feeling lately and Thorin needed to know if before it escalated to mahal knows that.

“I need to go. Excuse me,” you say wiping your tear and walking out of the kitchen.

Thorin stood there and knew what he needed to do.

It had been 3 days since you had been avoiding Thorin. You exited any room he stepped foot in and even used others as an excuse to avoid interacting with him.

“I never knew the kingdom had a library,” you say to Balin as he guided you through the old hallways.

“The library has not been used since the time Thorin’s grandfathers ruled,” the door to the library had an emblem of ancient Dwarfish words.

“I’ll let you explore it las,” Balin said respectfully bowing his head.

You thanked him as your ran your hand over the door.

Just by the sight of it, you knew it was made by non-other than the dwarves themselves. You had seen Thorin make many objects with the skills he attained.

You unconsciously reach for the courting bead occupying a braid in your hair. The very same one that Thorin made just for you.

With a sigh, you push the doors of the library open. It was dimly lit inside, but not enough for you to not be able to see.

The smell of vanilla surrounded you, the scent being your favourite.

You walk into the library and take in the sight of the shelves occupied with books that tell the many tales and history of dwarves, elves, men, and creatures alike.

As you linger along the bookshelves, the sound of shuffling captures your attention. You reached for the satchel around your waist and grab your dagger.

“Who is there?” you ask cautiously making your way toward the noise.

You hear the noise again. “Show yourself,” you demand.

Coming out with his hands raised in surrender is Thorin.

He is dressed in clothing he once wore in the blue mountain, not the royal attire that you found him in as of late.

You put your dagger away.

“Why didn’t you say it was you?” you ask annoyed.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want to be in my company,” he answers.

You gawk at him.

Is he serious?

That is the opposite of what you wanted.

“That is the last thing I would do,” you say and walk toward him.

You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, in fact you had only been avoiding him to gain a clear thought process from the events of the days before.

He smiles in appreciation when you stand in front of him.

“What do you think of my attire?” he asked with a raise of a brow.

“Very handsome,” you reply in the same tone as his.

“I thought you would be busy,” you say to him curiously.

“It was about time Fili got some guidance in ruling the kingdom,” he casually states as he held his arm for you to take.

You loop in your arm in his and look to him questionably.

“I take it was no coincidence that Balin showed me the library then?” you ask.

“No. I asked him to bring you here. I know you find solace amongst books,” he answered and led you further into the library.

You walk past bookshelves and come in sight of a couch fitted for two, beside it a table with a candle and a few books.

“I thought it would be fitting for me to show you some of my favourite books,”

He motions toward the couch for you to sit, he takes a book from the table before joining you.

You watched him in awe as he flips through the pages.

He can feel your eyes on him but does his best to avoid making eye contact with you.

“This a story my mother would read me when I was little. Its about two dwarves who were in love but couldn’t be together due to their families’ differences,” he tells you.

You look down to the book and see that it has illustrations of the story. You run your fingers up and down the page, Thorin intwines his fingers with yours.

“Amrâlimê. Since the day my mother first read me this story, I made a promise to forever love the dwarf I would one day come to love,” he said finally meeting your eyes.

“Thorin-“ you’re cut off by Thorin.

“No. I need to say this,” he insists.

“I haven’t been true to my promise, and in the few days without you, it made me realise how easily I could lose my love,”

You shake your head at his words.

“Thorin, no matter the distance between us, I could never stop loving you. All I wanted was for you to take care of yourself,” you explain.

“I understand, but that does not take away from the fact that I have indeed been neglectful to you,” he leans forward, and you feel the tip of his nose touch yours.

You stare into his eyes, and they speak more words than you could ever verbally express.

He connects his lips to yours and pulls you impossibly closer to you.

You moan into the kiss when he makes you straddle him.

“‘miss you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“‘m right here,” you reply.

You pour all your emotions into the kiss, making sure Thorin is aware of just how much he means to you.

He hands roam your clothed body. When he goes to trail kisses down your neck, you come to your senses.

“Thorin, what if someone walks in,”

“They don’t know we’re here,” he states and goes to undo the lace at the back of your dress.

You could feel him harden beneath you.

“Been to long,” his words were becoming slurred on lust and love.

He easily undid the top of your dress and took time appreciating your breasts. You moan at the feeling of him teasing you.

He looks up at you in awe, never had he been so in love.

“I love you,” he says as he pulls back to look at you more.

“And I you,” you state.

He wraps an arm around your waist and moves so that he is above you and you lay beneath him. Your legs are secure around his waist.

“You’re addicting amrâlimê,” he lays kisses as he rids you of your skirt.

He takes the time to admire your beauty. Your chest rises from arousal and your lips are parted, craving to has his lips on yours.

He does quick work of taking off his own shirt and pants, the be as bare as you are.

“My love,” you announce as you reach for him. He smirks at your words and feels his pride rise.

You feel his cock brushing against your thigh and reach between the two of you to take hold of it, he hisses in reaction.

“Y/n,” he warns.

You rub the tip of his cock to your wet folds, coating his cock and make him moan in pleasure.

“Need to feel you,” he groans.

You align his cock with your entrance and move your hips forward, indicating for him to move as well. Thorin does not waste a moment. He puts all his body weight on you and fills you to the brim.

He swears in khuzdul under his breath, but does not hesitate to rock his hip forward, not leaving space between the two of you.

You are all but moaning in his ear and letting his know just how good he is making you feel.

“Thorin,” you plead.

“I know amrâlimê. I know,” he acknowledges your pouted lips and knitted brows.

He buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, feeling himself becoming intoxicated by you.

He knows you are close when he feels your nails scratching down his back.

“Yes amrâlimê, mark me as yours,” he encourages.

His words tip you over the edge, and your tightness makes him meet his moment. He kisses you through his orgasm and moans into your mouth.

All that can be heard in the quiet library is the sound of both of your laboured breathing.

“I want to marry you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Isn’t that the purpose of courting?” you ask with a chuckle.

He takes his cloak to cover the both of you as you cuddle on the couch. You cuddle into his check as his arms hold you close to him.

“I want there to be a wedding, soon,” he explains.

You peer at him in disbelief.

“You mean…”

“Yes, I mean that we should begin planning our wedding right away,” he chuckles at your expression.

“You mean it?” you ask.

“With every beat of my heart. I want to make you my queen.” He admits.

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 2 months

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Imagine being Thranduils daughter and secretly dating Kili and Fili

Kili: “Hello, Princess.”

Y/N: “Hello, my loves.”

Fili: “How long do we have, Amrâlimê?”

Y/N: “Two whole hours with my sweet princes.”

#Kili x reader x Fili #Kili imagine #Fili imagine #Kili x reader #Fili x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine

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sillylotrpolls · 3 months

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* Please mentally substitute in the correct gender (or lack thereof) as necessary

** Yes, of course I realize it's actually Sindarin and not "Elvish," but if you know that you also already know what "meleth" and "tinúviel" mean. Ditto Khuzdul and "Dwarvish." But by all means, do tell me if you have a special sign in Iglishmêk for your partner.

#lotr #lord of the rings #poll #polls

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reclaimeddurin · 2 years

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The official documentation has been signed and we have stood before our family, friends, and guests to speak of our devotion to one another. My eyes were only on Bilbo and I could see the tinge of red dusting his ears.

I knew that he held no nervousness or hesitation in being wed to me, but the stares of those gathered around had been making his hands fidget. I had taken one of his hands in my own. Then in a whisper, I had reminded him that he has stood before a dragon and slung taunts at the beast, to which he responded in a similar hushed voice that he had been invisible for a good deal of that and had not been in such a restricting state of dress. We had shared a grin to keep ourselves from laughing.

Though I braided it into his curls myself, I can hardly believe the sight of the mithril bead in his hair. There are times, such as now, when these past few years seem more like a dream than reality. I think of myself, my kin, my people just a decade prior and how Mahal has blessed us.

#the wedding #amrâlimê #he shines brighter than any star I have ever seen

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xxsircharlesxx · 8 months

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Bilbo: *deep in thought* Thorin?

Thorin: *looking at reports* Yes, amrâlimê?

Bilbo: Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Thorin: *Looks up to Bilbo, confused* If you were a what?

Bilbo: *Looks at Thorin* Would you love me still if I was a worm?

Thorin: *Thoroughly confused* A- a worm? What?- No? I don’t know?- What?

Bilbo: Honestly, Kili asked me this morning the same thing and I was equally confused but it really does get you thinking about the things in life

Thorin: ..I think you’ve been spending too much time around Kili-

#weird thoughts are kicking in for bilbo #I feel kili would ask bilbo the most randomest questions #and it’d make bilbo really think about life #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #bagginshield #incorrect hobbit quotes

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quiterespectablyyours · 2 years

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It’s not that I’m having second thoughts about marrying Thorin again! I would never have second thoughts about marrying Thorin. It’s just that everyone is here.

I miss how quiet our Shire marriage had been, how much it had just focused on the two of us being happy with small things. But this is a wedding of a King and his Consort, and there are other Kings and Consorts attending, and even though I’ve spent the good part of the past few years preparing myself for this, this moment is still… beyond belief.

#that asshole #that wonderful asshole #amrâlimê #weddingblogging

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seeyouatthesecondmusic · 3 months

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mmh having some Thoughts this evening about Bilbo and his reception of dwarven culture...

i mean in the original books we find out that hes kind of got a thing for languages and calligraphy, so... we might be able to assume he has an affinity for linguistics? mmh something something bilbo picking up khuzdul without the company noticing by always listening in on their conversations etc... also this as a bagginshield concept- thorin trying the good old-fashioned ghivashel and amrâlimê on bilbo thinking he wont understand, but then bilbo turns and gives him a look and thorins just like shit shit shit

#my post #bilbo baggins #bagginshield

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mikathemonster · 1 year

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"candlelit treasures"

author's note: according to Google Docs, I started this one in LATE JANUARY... so yeah it's been a while. like damn. im embarrassed. but here it is guys!! I honestly got so busy and have been in and out of depressive episodes with how little personal time I now get, but it's all gonna be worth it once I get these major projects out of the way (I'm working on films)! anyways HERE'S YOUR MAN COME AND GET HIM

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4,368

summary: busy days and royal duties have worn down your poor lover, so it's time to let him feel just how much you treasure him.

content warnings: nsfw, porn with a little plot if you squint, soft nsfw, cunnilingus, blowjob, penetration, pet names (starlight), riding, switch! reader, switch! kíli, whining/moaning men (my favorite), all the fun stuff <3

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

In the dimly lit room where candles illuminated what the fireplace could not, he leaned back into you, seating himself between your thighs as your fingertips ran across his scalp, massaging and playing with his hair. A sigh left his lips as he felt himself feeling more relaxed, but tension still gnawed at him from the inside. A shiver ran through him as his back met flush with your abdomen, and you stopped your ministrations, your fingers pausing amidst his brown tresses.

“You’re nervous.” You said, your voice disturbing the crackling of the fire as you observed him. It had been a little while since you two could be like this, safe and warm as you both consumed each other’s company in the silence of your shared room. Your love’s royal lineage kept him busy as of late, and so it was only on nights like this where you two could share a tender moment together.

He took a deep breath, trying to relax. “You’re very warm,” he said.

“We’ve done this countless times, Kíli,” you said, continuing what you were doing as your fingers danced in his hair, now gathering some strands to begin your braid. He gave a nervous chuckle as his head leaned into your touch, his deep brown eyes looking up at you.

“I know, amrâlimê,” he breathed, his eyes glinting with reflections of the candles’ flame. “But this is what you do to me.” Every time, without fail, you left him breathless. Even now, as the fire danced and brightened your face, he found his heart racing and his skin on fire. He reached behind him, taking your hand that was fixed on braiding and trailing down his face, then his neck, then his chest until it was placed over his beating heart. “I cannot control it.”

You smiled, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead, his eyes closing as he lovingly received it. It seemed as though braiding would have to wait. “Why do you still get so nervous when you’re with me?”

A small silence fell over him as he studied your face. Even in the dark, you were beautiful. You seemed to walk in a completely different world than him, made of light and warmth and strength. He had thought so ever since he had met you. “I want to be the best I can be when I’m with you,” he said. “You deserve that much.”

“Amrâlimê,” you frowned, cupping his cheek. “You have nothing to prove to me. I am and always will be yours. That is all I deserve.” You placed another soft kiss on his warm skin, his eyes closing as he exhaled from the feeling. Slowly but surely, he was beginning to relax from the stress and pressure of his life and day.

“You are much more than I deserve,” he said, reaching a hand of his own to rest itself in your hair, his touch tender and careful. You took his hand, bringing it to your lips as you planted a kiss to each of his knuckles.

“Don’t speak so lowly of yourself, my love,” you sighed. “Or shall I prove to you once again how much you mean to me?”

A kind smile crossed his face as he now turned in place to face you from a better angle. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, then your cheek, and then finally rested his forehead against yours. “Not if I do so first,” he said, his hands now leaving yours to cup your face.

“Is that a challenge?” You raised a brow, glad to see he was beginning to actually enjoy himself.

Another kiss met your lips, and you smiled. “You’re so quick to seek competition,” he joked. “It drives me crazy.”

“Mm, is that so?” You teased, kissing his nose.

A sigh left him as he looked into your eyes, and you had never felt so safe. When you were with him, nothing else mattered. He nodded his head. “It’s hard for me to think clearly when I’m around you, my love.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you said. “Go ahead, it’s okay to give in.”

His eyes flitted back to your lips for a moment, before meeting your gaze once more. “You would let me?”

“I would let you have me in any way if it meant I could feel you here with me,” you said. He drew a breath at this comment, slowly becoming more and more entranced by you as he felt himself becoming undone by your words and implications. Once more, his eyes snaked to your lips until finally, he leaned in, placing his slightly chapped lips on your more soft ones.

Your hands wandered up from his shoulders to his neck until they finally met their destination in his brown tresses, the idea of braids long forgotten as your fingertips tangled themselves in his hair. His strong arms supported you as you leaned down to kiss him, your lips dancing together in a soft dance of reunion that the two of you hadn’t had in some time now. How long had it been since the last time?

It felt like forever ago, but Kíli was quick to fix that as he pulled away to trail kisses all over your face. His lips peppered your cheeks, then your jawline, and then slowly he made a path down your neck, his kisses soft and full of love and admiration. He took his time taking in your skin as he placed small bites about your neck in between kisses. There was no need to rush.

“I’ve missed you,” he groaned softly, his voice hush as his breath tickled your neck. You let out a pent-up sigh, allowing your hands to tighten their grip just a little in his hair. You felt him smile against your skin when you did this, and it made you proud. “It’s been so long, my love.”

You nodded, taking a breath. “Yes, it has.” Gently, you tugged on his hair to bring his face back to yours as you placed more kisses on his lips, savoring the taste as you took your time to enjoy this shared space between you two. “Too long.”

“Then let me make up for lost time,” he muttered, his eyes soaking you in as he pulled back and pushed you softly away from him. Your back met flush with the chair now as you looked at him in awe. He seemed to glow in the candlelight, and you had never seen such a pretty sight. He was everything to you.

Taking his time, his hands traced the shape of your figure, his warm palms traveling down your seated body until they rested themselves on top of your knees, gently pulling them apart to get you to spread your legs. Without any resistance, you gave in to his silent demands, baiting your breath as his fingers carefully snaked up your legs to meet the waistband of your trousers. Slowly, he tucked his fingers into the waistband, tugging lightly as he pulled them down. You rose a little in your seat to aid him, your eyes never leaving his pretty brown ones as you let him continue with his plan.

As your trousers now found their place on the floor, the cool air on your legs brought a slight shiver down your spine. Kíli sat up on his knees in between your legs as he rubbed circles on your thighs, his rough hands never feeling softer on your skin. “I want to relish this, amrâlimê,” he said. “I want to take my time with you.”

He leaned down, carefully placing kisses and bites along the inner seam of your thighs, starting at your knees and working his way in, closer and closer to the one place where you were starting to feel more and more warm. His eyes never left your face, wanting to see you all breathy and dazed as he savored the taste of your skin on his tongue. Mahal knows he had missed this. He had missed you.

You knew not what to do with your hands, keeping one over your heart as the other reached down to pet his hair lovingly, adoring the way he looked beneath you. You melted into his touch, feeling yourself heating up more and more simply at the thought of what was to come. “I need you, Kíli,” you said, your voice a fell whisper in the silence of the room where only the fire’s crackling occurred.

“I know, my love,” he smiled, his kisses coming closer and closer to where you wanted his lips. “But I need you to be patient.”

“Please,” you let out, growing weak with want and need. He knew this; he knew your body like the back of his hand. Of course, he hadn’t always been the most skillful with you, but time was a wonderful teacher. He ceased his kisses for just a moment, fingers pulling your underwear to the side so he could get a look at you. He blew cool air on your cunt, and you sighed from the feeling, but it wasn’t enough.

“I suppose just this once,” he smiled, leaning closer to you, and you could feel his warm breath on your cunt as he gazed up at you with loving eyes. Gentle were his fingers as they spread you apart, making room so his lips could place a kiss right on your hooded clit. You felt yourself twitch at the feeling for a moment, a breathy gasp leaving your lips as you gave a light laugh. Kíli beamed at you as his tongue dipped into your folds, licking a swipe along your seam as he kept his stare fixated on you.

Passionate and tender were his touches as he tasted you, already finding himself addicted to your taste. A little sweet, a little salty, but always a fine delicacy in his mind. His tongue carefully lapped you up as he ate you out, your arousal coating his lips as a mix of it and saliva dripped a little from his chin. You tried your best to keep your breathing even, small moans and whimpers leaving your throat as your hand in his hair fastened its grip, tugging lightly. He knew he was doing a good job, and it turned him on. He could feel himself growing in his trousers at the sound of your pretty voice, wanting to silence you with his lips if he wasn’t already so busy with enjoying his meal. You brought your hand that had been over your heart now over your mouth, trying to stifle the sweet sounds escaping you as you tried your best to focus on the way his doe eyes never left yours.

He groaned against you, and the vibrations from it left you bucking your hips slightly, desperate for more of his touches and breaths. “Amrâlimê, please,” he chuckled. “Don’t hide your sweet voice from me, I want to hear you so badly. I need to hear you.”

His pleading and whining tone was more than enough incentive to take your hand away from your mouth, your moans now growing louder as he became more greedy in his endeavors. With a more hurried pace, he seemed to explore you with his tongue, leaving no part untouched except where you could feel yourself needing him the most. But it wasn’t out of cruelty that he did this, rather he truly wanted to savor every little twitch and sigh and whine you gave him as he played your body like his favorite instrument.

Slowly, he added a finger, and you bucked your hips a little from the feeling, loving the way he was beginning to fill you up, though you knew you wouldn’t be satisfied from just this for long. Now wanting to egg you on, he caught your clit with his lips, swiping it with his tongue as he eagerly kept his pace, adding another finger that pumped in and out of you at a tantalizing pace. Your moans grew louder and much more frequent as he laid his attack on your most sensitive part, your head falling back from the sheer amount of pleasure as your legs tightened around him. He repositioned himself for a moment, drawing away much to your dismay as he removed your underwear and placed each of your legs upon his shoulders.

“I need you to keep them spread, my starlight,” he said, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs once more before diving back into the fray of your arousal. You gave a weak nod, barely even registering his words in your mind, for pleasure was all you knew right now. The more he lapped at your sensitive bundle of nerves, the more you could feel that familiar tight feeling growing inside of you. It was all you could think about, your mind drunk on the way his tongue danced inside of you.

And he himself was growing quite drunk as well, your juices like a forbidden candy to him. He couldn’t get enough, his fingers quickening their pace as he felt himself growing hungrier and more greedy. He truly wanted to consume you for the rest of his days, your taste so addictive on his tongue. His pants were now feeling much more constrictive, and he groaned at the feeling as he desperately wanted to replace his fingers and tongue with something else. But he was a patient man, and knew that waiting and letting this play out would be much more enjoyable and memorable for the two of you tonight.

More and more you felt that familiar and delicious tightening feeling grow inside you amidst your moans and breaths of pleasure as you tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your heat in encouragement. “Please, oh fuck,” you said. “Please, Kíli.”

“Are you close?” He asked in between his attacks on your puffy clit, and all you could fathom to respond with was a quick nod. He smiled as his tongue swiped your insides, incredibly turned on by the notion that you could barely even think or speak from the pleasure he was bringing you. “Good.”

You were just about to ask him to go faster when you suddenly pulled him away from you by his hair, your chest heaving and that tightening feeling dissipating in a disappointed fashion as Kíli looked up at you with concerned eyes. “What is it? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, worrying if he had done something to displease you. You shook your head, trying to ignore how much you desperately wanted to finish already. You had other plans first. You wanted to take care of him. You could feel yourself throbbing and pulsing before you slid out of your chair and into Kíli’s lap, straddling him. His eyes searched your hungry gaze as he wondered what was going through your mind.

“No, my love,” the words finally met the air. “I just…” You trailed off, placing kisses along his stubble as you pressed yourself against his growing erection, causing a groan to leave his pretty lips, glossy from your juices. “I want to take care of you.” Your hands trailed down, one on his shoulder to stabilize yourself as the other went down to palm him through his trousers. He was painfully hard, and you smiled as his whole body shuddered from your touch. You loved the way his brows furrowed when you did this, the way his whole face seemed to contort in pleasure.

Your kisses delved lower, now peppering his neck as you made sure to leave gentle bites and marks along his dwarven skin. He leaned his head back to give you better access, propping himself on his arms. “Amrâlimê,” he said, his voice soft and full of need. “You’re too good to me.”

You smiled into his skin, bringing your lips to his ear to softly kiss his earlobe. “I know, now let me show it. Let me give you what you deserve.”

You now stood up, hovering over his body as you offered your hand out to him. He took it without hesitation, eagerly willing to follow you anywhere in Arda as you led him to your shared bed. You guided him onto it, letting him rest on top of your various pillows as he looked at you with so many emotions. Lust, love, and a pining curiosity for what you had in store.

“I want you to be comfortable, love,” you said, your words like honey as you climbed on top of him, sitting next to him as your fingers worked to loosen his trousers as you slowly pulled them off of your lover. His half-lidded eyes watched you carefully as he lifted himself to help you in your mission, his member finally freeing itself from the harsh confines of his pants. A ragged breath left him as his hard cock met the cool air, and you cast his pants to some dark and forgotten corner for now.

Gentle were your hands as you spread his legs, seating yourself in between them before running a hand along the length of his shaft. He gasped at your touch, his eyes transfixed on the way you handled him. “You’re so good to me, Kíli,” you said as you leaned down to place a kiss on the tip of his cock, which was slick with precum. His breath hitched as he watched you, refusing to take his eyes off you. You ran your tongue along his length, flicking his swollen head with the tip of your tongue as you stared up at him. “And I want to show you how much I treasure you.”

“Amrâlimê,” he said, forgetting his words as a moan ripped out of him as you took him into your mouth, bringing your head down as you sheathed him inside of your mouth. Slowly, you brought your head back up, placing another kiss on his tip with a smile that feigned innocence.

“That’s it, let it all out. Let me hear you.” You said, taking him into your mouth again, and his hand shot down to tangle itself in your hair as you slowly bobbed your head up and down along his length, your hands massaging and stroking whatever you couldn’t reach with your throat. He threw his head back and bucked his hips up, causing you to gag. Seeing him in such pleasure only egged you on as you continued, slowly getting faster and faster but still making sure to keep it gradual. You wanted to take your time with him just as he had done with you.

His whines and groans seemed to only get more and more pleading the longer you went on, sweat forming on his forehead as he begged you to go faster. You were happy to oblige but eager to watch him moan your name some more, only increasing your pace little by little. He keened for you, bucking his hips more if only to feel his tip tickle the back of your throat, your gags and whines sending vibrations down his shaft that drove him crazy. You always looked so beautiful when his cock was in your mouth.

As a mixture of drool and precum dribbled from your lips down onto his shaft, you continued quickening your pace, your head bobbing up and down in between small twirls and flicks of your tongue on his tip, which twitched in your mouth. His body shuddered under your touch, his stomach trembling with each of your movements and his shoulders shaking. Your hands were quick to stroke the rest of his length and care for his balls as you felt your jaw going sore from your endeavors.

The more he bucked his hips, the deeper he seemed to bully himself down your throat, and it drove him wild. You kept forcing breaths through your nose, not wanting to take a break for the sake of pleasing him. He was quickly finding that unraveling, tight feeling ball up inside him as his cries grew louder and more frantic. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “Please, a little more…”

And quickly, he came undone. You always had this effect on him, skillful enough with your mouth that you left him a moaning mess. You eagerly swallowed every last drop he gave you as his cock twitched in your mouth, pulsing with each wave of his orgasm. His chest heaved as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern, a soft smile on his face after you eventually swallowed around him one more time before finally bringing yourself back up for air. It felt so cool in your throat as you too tried to regain your composure.

His hand in your hair loosened its grip, now finding your scalp to offer soothing strokes and massages as a silent apology for how rough he had grabbed it. “Tell me how I taste,” he said, eyes clouded with lust as he came down from his high.

You smirked, bringing yourself to his face as you leaned over him. “Why don’t you find out for yourself, hm?” You gently took his chin, guiding your lips together in a sloppy, messy kiss. A whine erupted from his throat as you deepened the kiss with a swipe of your tongue before breaking it, a line of saliva connecting your lips.

“You never finished,” he said, his eyes taking in how beautiful you looked with his taste in your mouth, the slight sweat on your brow making you glow in front of him as he brought a hand to your clit, massaging small circles, eager to please you.

A small whine left you, not expecting his touch so quickly as you buried your head in his neck. “I was trying to take care of you first,” you said weakly, feeling that warm feeling build up again. “I want to make you feel good.”

He hummed, a smile on his lips. “Then why don’t we share the feeling?” His hand left you, now moving your hips to guide you over his length, already hard again. You lifted your hips as he guided his cock inside you slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you. But you were eager as you lowered yourself onto his hips, sheathing himself inside you as you took his length in full. A whiny moan left his lips as you did so, completely caught by surprise at your impatience.

“Fuck…” he whined, and your head returned to his neck to plant kisses and bites as well as hide the small moans and breaths that left you as you began to slowly rock your hips, wanting to feel him as closely as possible, craving that sweet heat of friction. He shuddered from the sudden feeling of your warmth, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tried to steady his breathing.

“You take me so well, starlight,” he said, his expression completely fucked out at the feeling of you squeezing him so nicely. He always looked so beautiful when he was a whining, moaning mess underneath you. A glistening sheen of sweat decorated his forehead and cheeks, his bangs sticking to him slightly as his eyelids fluttered shut for a moment. It was now that you slowly began to rock your hips against his legs, grinding into him. “Fuck… You’re so good at this.”

“Only for you,” you said with a breathy tone. “I’m all yours.” You sped up your pace little by little, relishing the way he filled you up so perfectly. You could sit like this for hours if you really wanted to, and you knew he wouldn’t complain. He loved the warm wet feeling of your cunt sucking him in.

After a moment of enjoying your movements, Kíli joined you, bucking his hips into you slowly as you began bouncing on his cock, desperately chasing the delicious friction of the current situation. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough that you were sure they would leave bruises later, but that was the least of your worries as you sought to bring this man underneath you undone. With a vice on your hips, he guided you up and down his shaft, the funny feeling from earlier bubbling inside him as he wanted nothing but his release now. Nothing but this moment between you as he broke his moans with soft praises that were meant for only you and nobody else.

“Please,” he begged with a breathy tone. “Harder, please keep going.”

A smile met your lips, feeling proud of how easily you could have this man unraveled beneath you. You lived for this feeling and you couldn’t get enough. Happy to comply with his request, you kept your pace steady as you brought yourself down on him with more force, which was only more enjoyable for both of you as a plethora of pleasurable sounds left your lips. It was feeling so good, so nice, so delicious. Words were hard to form in your mind as you tucked your head in the crook of his neck, biting down and leaving your mark on your world.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he found himself lost in the feeling of how wonderfully you pulsed and squeezed around him. “Please, more…”

You two kept at this for a few more minutes before he quickly came undone, your name ripping from his throat as his brows furrowed in the feeling of his release as he filled you up inside. But you still hadn’t finished yet, and he was ever the gentleman, now slamming you on his length with the last bit of composure and strength he had as you eventually came undone on top of him, your breathing uneven as whines left you and into his ear.

“Had enough yet, love?” You teased warmly, head still hiding in his neck as you tried desperately to regain your breathing as you came down from your high.

“No,” he whispered, his voice laced with lust and want. “Please, amrâlimê… I need more.”

A weak chuckle left you, knowing all too well that this was just the beginning for both of you.

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