A Wattpad request. I do not own Smaug. He belongs to J.R.R.Tolkien.
Warnings: Um…none that I can think of. Let me know it I missed one :) except it’s pretty long!
Pairings: Human!Smaug x fem!dwarf reader
“Blasted coward of a
hobbit,” you swore under your breath as you made your way into the
Mountain. Bilbo wasn’t really a coward,
but you knew your father would somehow hear you if you cursed him. It
was better to blame the hobbit. In truth, Thorin didn’t trust anyone to go into
the Mountain to find the Arkenstone except you, his daughter. So instead of Bilbo, who was hired to do the
job, you were sent in.
you walked through the dark corridors, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of
belonging. You’d never been to Erebor. You were born in the Blue Mountains, but
your father’s stories, along with those of Dwalin and Balin, made you feel as
if you knew Erebor as well as they did. As if that were your home.
Imagine the dwarves being heartbroken after you tell them that the human life span is shorter than theirs
I was bored and thought I’d try this imagine. Its my first time writing for the hobbit so I hope you understand if it sucks! Anyway enjoy!
Words: 1,051 Paring: Slight Reader x Thorin
“What happened next?” Kili asked excitedly. “We had to carry him home. Obviously after he threw up in the streets and allover your mother’s new boots,” Balin explained laughing. “I hope my 100th birthday is that cool!” Fili sighed longingly. “It will be. It’ll be the first party thrown in Erebor for a hundred years,”Thorinsaid smiling, his cheeks slightly red from the embarrassment that was his 100th
Your feet slipped on loose coins, nearly sliding out from under you as you made a desperate dash to hide behind a massive column of carven green stone, not daring to look back at the scale-armored behemoth that followed behind you, trailing its massive tail through the treasure hoard with a relentless, metallic scraping.
Cowering in the column’s shadow, you tried to quiet the ragged gasps that made you lightheaded, praying that the creature would somehow overlook your presence. The noise of its lumbering progress through the hall ceased, and your heartbeat seemed so loud in the sudden silence that you feared it might give away your position. There came the soft clink of shifting coins quite near you, and you flattened yourself against the cool stone, squeezing your eyes tightly shut in your fear.
The voice was quieter, silkier, calling to mind the warning growl of a predatory cat, and much too near your ear.
“Calm down. I look a lot worse than I am.”
With a start, you opened your eyes to find yourself looking into the face of a man.
After Gilrin’s parting words, all you could do was wander around aimlessly. No tears were shed even as your heart was ripped into a million pieces. You couldn’t have Thorin questioning you and murdering Gilrin. You just couldn’t which is why you were currently on a walk to visit your old chambers.
Here’s part 8. You learn some surprising things about Thorin. Dis is most definitely your new best friend. I do not own ANY Hobbit characters. They are the property of J.R.R.Tolkien.
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (I am making a separate masterlist for this series.)
Warnings: Brief mentions of injury. A bit of fluff, pregnancy
Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield(Durin) x fem!reader, Y/S/N, Dis, Dwalin, Fili, Kili
You smiled at Dis. You hadn’t
expected to meet Thorin’s sister this way. “Excuse me, where is my father?
Thorin Durin.” You glanced to see Y/S/N behind you, asking the
receptionist about Thorin. The receptionist typed something in her computer and
answered, “Mr. Durin is in Room 103.” After thanking the
receptionist, the three of you headed toward Thorin’s room. You hadn’t even
noticed that he called Thorin his father. Dis noticed.
Fandom: The Hobbit. Pairing: Fili x Reader ( ft the Company of Thorin Oakenshield) Word Count: 1.881
Requested by Anon:Can I request a Fili x Reader one shot? Human reader who is traveling with the company and she is very very shy. Fili is falling in love with her and he flirts with her and touches her a lot which makes her blush and get nervous but eh thinks it’s cute. Ends with them confessing their feelings a kiss?
A/N: Hey Anon! At first I had trouble with writing this. Falling in love isn’t just a process written in a thousand words. Therefore, I am making this a continuation. There will be coming multiple character as I write it. That way the feeling can be better related and everything just falls better in to place. I hope that is okay with you ^~^. I just can’t write this in one piece or it would be way too long for my liking. I hope you look forward to more!
You woke up slowly, your shoulder stiffened by excruciating pain . It was so grey
when you opened your eyes that you were sure you had been returned to your cell
in Mirkwood. Only the light of a low-burning fire glowed in the unfamiliar
chamber and you looked around at the dwarven bodies cluttered across the damp
wooden floor. Wherever you were, you were glad you had not been left behind.
As the doors to the throne room closes behind you, you look at Thorin confused. He has the same expression on his face. Did you really just get thrown into an arranged marriage with your best friend and heir to the throne? This day could not get any worse.
Sorry I’ve been away for a while, I promise to have the rest of this up soon, I’ve had writers block the past few days. Enjoyyyy!
Word count: 2,002 Warnings: Action, feels, hurt. Synopsis: After stumbling into Middle-earth, you became part of Thorin’s company to reclaim Erebor, your feelings for the dwarf king grew and his in return.
Thorin held onto your hand with all of his might, through every bump that the river took you, even being chased down by orcs, he still held your hand. It was nice even though his grip felt like he was tearing your skin. Although him gripping your hand was painful you also loved it. Hunted down by yet more orcs was just growing tiresome. You hated the look, the smell, everything about orcs. And yet they were always finding ways to hunt you down, it’s like they had some unnatural super sense of smell or something in which they knew where the company would be and when. Luckily the elven rangers were cutting them off whilst trying to hunt you down too, which was convenient considering you could hardly defend yourselves being inside a barrel and travelling at whatever miles per hour down this extremely dangerous river. You had no weapons and therefore couldn’t defend yourselves, which was why you were grateful of the elves hunting down the orcs. Climbing onto the riverside made you feel a little queasy, you body had just adjusted to the movement of the barrel and you felt as if you were still moving in it even when stood upright. When you climbed up to your feet, Thorin grabbed each shoulder of yours, “Are you hurt?” he looked desperate as he stared into your eyes, “Quickly!” “No- no, I am well.” you stuttered, how did he still manage to make you a nervous wreck even in such times?
Pt. 2 Oneshot(Request) Traveling w/ tc to tlm & Smaug is interested in u. He trades u for tlm & Thorin agrees bc he's mad.(U r a skin changer u just don't know)(Thorin doesn't realise what he's done till after and tc is furious) This might be long.
Once your screams stopped echoing through the great halls of Erebor, silence was all that was heard from the dwarfs. Kill and Fili looked at each other in shock. Was their best friend really gone forever? Fill gripped sword tight and walked over to the king Under the Mountain.
“You cannot expect me to just stand here uncle! She wasn’t just a girl to me! Do not expect me to stand here and do nothing.”, he said, as he tried to match his eyes with Thorin’s. He felt a hand grip his shoulder.
“Aye, count me in.”, Before said to Fili.
“Aye!”, the rest of the Company roared. Fili sighed in relief.
Thorin looked around at the group of men in shock. They didn’t show fear or ager, but instead showed bravery and concern. He looked down at the stone, as your echoed screams filled his mind. He felt angry, but didn’t know why. All his life he had been waiting for the moment when he Arkenstone was his, but once he gained it, he wasn’t happy. Instead he felt clouds fill his mind, he couldn’t think straight. As he looked closer at the stone, he could see his refection. Only, it wasn’t his, it was his grandfathers. The reflection of a sick man. He saw a tear fall from his eyes, he knew he wouldn’t suffer the same fate of his grandfather. Thorin walked over to the edge of the stairs from which he stood and held out the stone.
“I am not my grandfather!”, he let go of the Arkenstone and watched it tumble along the glittering gold.
He turned back at his brothers and smiled. Balin stood up and grabbed Thorin’s shoulders. Balin smiled and nodded his head.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go kill a dragon and save y/n.”, he slightly commanded. Fill and Kili smiled wide and hugged their uncle. Soon enough, the Company of Thorin Oakensheild has set off on the journey to save y/n.
You could hear the hurricane of Smaug’s wings on either side of you, as you two soared higher into the air. You couldn’t feel the tears on your face, all you could feel was the pain of knowing Thorin had given you up for a rock. You felt tired and slowly began to lead against the giant beast. You could feel every muscle of Smaug move, as he flew through the air. You became hypnotized by his shimmering scales. You placed your hands gently onto a few of the red rocks and softly slid your fingers across them. Suddenly, you heard a purr like sound come from the dragon. You jerked back in surprised, and began to laugh. You didn’t know why you were laughing, there was nothing to smile about at this point time time, but that purr broke down that wall. You felt a sudden shift in direction and the clouds of which he was sailing upon, were gone, All you could see was green land and a few small mountains. You could feel the fresh green air fill your lungs, it was like a drug. You hadn’t see so much green in your life. Then the another shift in the course. You saw Smaug head to the biggest one of the mountains you had seen earlier. You knew this was going to be your knew home, your new life,….your new roommate. Once you got closed enough to the mountain, Smaug pushed back with his wings and tilted enough that you began to fall off of him. You tried to hold on, but their was no chance of safety with this snake. Once you couldn’t feel his leathery skin, you couldn’t feel anything, just air. Suddenly something caught you from your fall. You made a small oof sound, as your legs and arms dangled from you. You placed your hands on the catcher and felt the fimilar claw of Smaug. He’d caught you, no, he’d saved you. You heard a low growl come from him. He slowly drifted over to the opening to a big cave, and gently placed you on the ground. You wobbled a bit, being you having’t walked in a few hours. Then walked into the cave. You felt a loud and hard landing from Smaug. You were confused on why he had brought you here, he could never fit in a cave, even if it was big. It wasn’t that big. You grabbed a stick and motioned Smaug to light it, he took a small waft of air and spewed a fire big enough to light the new torch. You looked up at him and smiled, there is no way he can get to me inside, you thought. Then, unexpectedly you felt a gust of wind take hold of you. You stepped back from the pressure, then immediately the movement of air stopped. You turned to Smaug, but in surprise their wasn’t a dragon, but a tall man. You gasped at the sight, you began to back away, but stopped once you saw the skin to the man. He was tan, but had tattoo like scars on his back. You stepped closer to him, he turned around and looked at you. You saw the eyes, dragons eyes, his eyes.
“Imagine going into Erebor and being caught by human!Smaug. He makes a deal with you; playing hide and seek. If you can escape without him finding you, you’re free. If he finds you…he gets to decide your fate”
The rooms were dark and cold. As you walked through the corridors, you felt sick to your stomach. The aching pain of the realization that this was it. The cemetery of Erebor, the once so great kingdom. Now only a wretched memory.
It seemed silent to you, the rooms. You heard of ghost tales, ones that would haunt the halls and whoever roamed them, but so far your walk had been silent.
You had no clue of where you were headed, but the history baffled you and you had to break the rumors yourself. Your friends claimed that you were only going in to find the gold and keep it to yourself, but there was a deeper meaning than riches. Smaug.
Original request: “Could I request a drabble where Legolas comforts after I witness my best friend getting killed by Orcs? And if you could add my name in please (my name is ailish) thank you love!”
Pairing: Legolas x Reader
Word count: 1,172
A/N: Y/F/N means "your friend’s name”, Y/E/C means “your eye colour”. I was listening to Everybody Wants to Rule the World, by Lorde and Fire, Fire by Firefly when I was writing this. I think those songs are really fitting for the Middle-Earth saga. I actually really enjoyed writing this drabble, but sorry if it drags on a little or is a bit repetitive.
It was all just a blur to you. One minute you had been walking with your friend, the next the two of you had been snatched away from each other. You had kicked and screamed, bit and yelled, but nothing was stopping the orcs. It was all clear up until then, when the orc holding you plunged his dagger into your shoulder and let you fall to the ground, bleeding out.
You could only just remember as they ran their knife across the neck of your best friend, the pain of watching him/her die consumed you; more so than the pain of your wound. You had let out an anguished scream and rushed over to your friend lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, eyes glassy and skin pale. You dropped to your knees, clutching your head and sobbing. The next thing you remembered was Tauriel, the captain of the guard, finding you along with some other elves.
Enslaved by a King- [Wine and Seduction Edition]- Thranduil Fanfiction
The King of Mirkwood hands you a glass of wine. It shimmers under the torchlight, the color of blood and fire. You have had wine before. Thick and sour, served in jewel-encrusted goblets, under the watchful eye of your previous master. You can remember the glare of his bright amber eye as you obediently downed goblet after goblet, until the world swirled red, gold, and black. You would dance for him, his fiery breath against your bare flesh.
Thranduil grazes your shoulder with the tips of his fingers. His touch jolts you from your memory, and the glass in your hand quivers.
“Take care not to spill,” his voice is low at your ear. “This is a rare vintage. The fruit harvested under the gleam of starlight before the dawn of Tarnin Austa.”
He dips a slender finger into his wine, and traces it along your lips. The wine is cold and bittersweet. His finger is hot. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart pounds wildly. You bring the glass to your lips and gulp it down. He catches your hand and pulls the glass from you.
“Such wine is to be savored, not washed down like an inebriant.”
“…I thought my lord wanted me to forget,” you mumble. The wine is sweet; it lingers on your tongue.
A crease forms between his eyebrows. “Forget?”
The wine cellar is spinning slightly, and you blink. “Smaug would give me drink, so that I would not remember.”
“And what would a dragon be so anxious for you to forget?”
You shake your head. “…I don’t…remember.”
You stumble, and he catches you in his arms. His chest is warm and firm under his silver brocade. The wine is fire in your chest, spreading through you, warm and rich.
“There is more to wine than relief from the past. It burns away deceit, exposing who we truly are. Both the beautiful and the wretched.”
He takes a slow sip from the wine. The world is swimming color and light. In the haze, he is beautiful, brilliant and cold like a diamond. But you know the fire that burns within him, dark and deadly. How you long to play with that fire. The burn of the wine has emboldened you, and you trail your finger down his neck, resting on the gnarled gem at his throat. You try to unclasp it. He catches your wrist.
“It seems like you’ve had too much. You should return to your quarters.”
“…No,” you whisper. “…We should stay.”
Amusement plays on his lips. “Why is that?”
You take his hand and slide his finger into your mouth. You lap at it slowly, sucking off the sweet remnants of the wine. His mouth falls open, and he knits his eyebrows.
“…And what do you think you are doing?” His voice is low and cold, but you can feel his desire growing beneath his trousers. You don’t answer. You love the sensation of his fingers on your tongue, filling your mouth. It makes you want something. Something deep. Fulfilling. It must show on your face because he draws a sharp breath. You run your tongue between his fingers, watching his eyes grow dull with lust. You nip his finger gently. He clenches his jaw, his nostrils flaring slightly. You are fire. Every inch of your sensitive skin is crying desperately for the friction of him.
“Touch me,” your breathe.
He raises his eyebrows. “…You dare command a king? Must I remind you who is your master?”
Slowly, your tear the fragile silk of your dress, your eyes never leaving his. It comes apart like tissue paper in your fingers and falls to the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck. Pulling him close, you flick the edge of his ear with your tongue. You press your mouth against his ear. "You are, my lord. My king. My master.“
He utters something in elvish, something between a curse and a prayer. A battle rages inside him; it consumes his will and his pride like wildfire. You watch him falter, and suddenly you are entwined, conjoined. You are lips and desire and tongue and fingers upon singing flesh. You are fingers grasping, breath fast and urgent, whispers of fabric coming undone. For what is fabric but distance between you and him? You are primal strength and will. You are whole. Blissful, wonderful, and whole.
You wake, aching with sweet satisfaction. You are sprawled on top of him, naked and slick. His orange robe is splayed over the cellar floor beneath his bare, heaving body. His usual pristine hair now in complete disarray. He is glaring at you.
”…My lord?“ You croak. Your throat is sore, as if you’ve been screaming for hours. He flips over and pins you beneath him. His eyes are dark with anger.
"Ah. You finally wake,” he seethes. “Is there anything else you’d like? Anything else you desire? Anything else your master can do to serve you?”
There are bits of twigs, leaves, and berries tangled in his hair. You gingerly reach and pull the pieces from his hair and stare at them.
“…My lord, your crown-”
He snatches the broken pieces from your hands. “Yes, I am well aware. Never in thousands of years has anyone ever-” he broke off.
You are staring at him, wide-eyed and confused.
"…Do you not remember anything?“
You shake your head nervously.
”…Good.“ He sighs. He looks relieved. "You are not ever to drink again. Not with anyone else but me. Am I clear?”
You nod, still confused. "…Have I…displeased my lord?“
He licks his lips, as if unsure how to answer your question. Then he pins your arms over your head and kisses you roughly.
"It would please me even more to start over,” he growls in your ear. “With your pleasure purely at my whim.”
Imagine reminding Balin, Thorin and Dwalin of Balin's late daughter
For time-to-get-weird :)
Balin watched as you chatted with Fili, Kili, Ori and Bilbo, you were telling a story from your travels and they were watching you tell it with wide eyes as you recalled the time when you escaped from a pack of wild wolves with only a small scar on your left hip. You danced around the fire dramatically, acting out how you managed to fight them off, swinging your arms round, wielding an invisible sword.