Secret Somebody

(GIF credit to @aryaofoldstones​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! I saw your looking for Bridgerton requests, I would love some Benedict x Eloise sibling fluff! They have such a good dynamic in the show and I need more’

(I wouldn’t mind making another part of this if people want it tbh)

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise’s gloved hands clung onto her book as she and her family arrived at yet another social event, a ball once again. Her mama had ensured she was dressed to catch the eyes of men, and Eloise knew that meant there would be no room for intelligent conversation. With Daphne now married to the Duke, Eloise had more pressure on her shoulders than she imagined, having to find a suitor of similar standards. However, it wasn’t just her on the market, her brothers were too, especially Benedict (Violet knew it would be extremely difficult to marry off Anthony first, opting for the second eldest son).

Eloise smiled whenever her mama looked her way, though it quickly disappeared once she turned around. Benedict had been instructed to escort her sister around the ball to help seek out suitors, the men knew each other or something about someone; he could help her meet the right one.

“I cannot believe I am here.” Eloise moaned as she looped her arm through her brothers.

“Believe me sister, I do not wish to be here either.”

“Why must you parade me around like a horse at a dressage in order to find a new owner?” Eloise kept catching the men’s gazes, turning up her nose in disgust.

“So dramatic.” he chuckled.

She scoffed.“Well, if you’re going to advise me on who I should be marrying, I shall do the same for you. Now let’s see…”

Eloise looked around the room at all the women, wondering who would be the best match for her brother. Most of these women had no personalities, relying on their outfits to express themselves. Eloise knew of some ladies that were nice, though had nothing in common with her brother.

Eloise shrugged, tugging on her brother’s arm towards the door.“Ah, there’s no one here for us. Let us make haste and leave-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Benedict pulled her back,“we have been strictly told to stay for the night, even if it is just to socialise and…get our names out there.”

Eloise groaned a little too loudly, Ben ducking his head in embarrassment.“How long do these balls go on for?”

“I have never stayed for the full duration.”

“That’s not the answer I want to hear.”

Benedict glanced down at her, somehow only just realising that Eloise had brought a book with her.“Is that book sewed to your hand sister?”

“I brought it just in case I became bored. Which I am already.”

“I shall go and grab us some refreshments. Might as well enjoy them whilst we’re here.”

Eloise let her brother slip away, quickly finding a hiding spot by leaning up against a wall, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowds. She opened her book, continuing where she left off, happy she brought a pencil to scribble down notes for later. The studying never stopped for Eloise. 

“Excuse me?” a woman’s voice interrupted her too soon.

Eloise tried her best to be polite, though her smile came off as sarcastic.“Yes?”

“Sorry,” the woman looked taken back,“I thought you were reading a book that I am reading at the moment, but I was wrong. I’ve disturbed you, I shall leave you alone-”

“Wait,” Eloise had now sparked an interest. No other lady had ever approached her like this,“I don’t mean to be rude. What book had you expected?”

“It’s oh so obvious, but I’ve been reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. It’s the newest book out at the moment, and my mama lets me read it seeing as it involves a woman finding someone to marry. Although, it’s definitely about something deeper, that’s just what I told her.”

“I don’t indulge in romantic novels myself, but I am glad to hear of a female author selling her work.”

“It’s fantastic. And it’s nice to be able to read something without it being snatched out of my hands. Oh, where are my manners? I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Sorry, I’ve been dancing with men all night and none of the conversations have been as riveting as this so far.”

“Why am I not surprised?” they both laughed.“I’m Eloise Bridgerton.”

(Y/N) tried to not show her shock when she heard the surname. They were only the most talked about family, her mama had gone on and on about them, especially when Lady Whistledown mentioned them in her writings. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Might I ask what it is that you are reading?”

“It is to do with my studies. I truly hate these events, so I thought I would ensure my mind was being worked properly.” Eloise realised that could come off as rude, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.“I did not mean to offend you by that.”

“It really isn’t any bother.” (Y/N) giggled.“I rather enjoy these just for the dancing and drinks, I find promenading to be more successful in finding a suitor. Though I would much rather sneak off and see if I can get a few more pages in of a book I shouldn’t be reading.”

“Eloise, why must you go wondering off like that…” Benedict’s words trailed off as he approached his sister, spotting a beautiful woman stood by her.

Eloise’s eyes flickered between the two, and she smiled when she saw the adoration in her brother’s eyes. Cheekily taking the two glasses from his hands, she passed one to (Y/N), who awkwardly took it. (Y/N) had gazed upon the Bridgerton men in passing, they were very nice to look at. Of course, she never divulged in any fantasies about them, that would be silly. But seeing one in front of her had taken her breath away.

“Thank you brother.” Eloise said, taking a sip.“This is Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a new friend of mine.”

He gently took her free hand in his, bending forwards slightly to kiss it. (Y/N) had this done to her many times, but this was different. Benedict made her feel butterflies in her stomach. Eloise could tell her mama was going to love this.

She cleared her throat.“We were just speaking of art, actually.”

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows.“We were talking about books.”

“I was about to move the topic along.”

“What kind of art would that be then?” Benedict asked, knowing what game his sister was playing. 

“The…drawing, kind.”

“Isn’t all art drawn?”

“No, it is also painted.”

“I think artists may sketch out a rough idea before painting.”

“Well you would know brother, seeing as you yourself are an artist.”

“I wouldn’t say that-”

“You paint, Lord Bridgerton?” (Y/N) asked.

“Ah, yes, and I sketch.” he hoped his cheeks weren’t turning red. 

“Anything in particular?”

“Mostly people.”

“Are you both attending the art exhibition my family are holding next week?”

“That’s your families’ exhibit?” Benedict became excited.

“Yes, my father collects a lot of art work. Then mother realised she could make a social event out of it, but at least everyone will be able to admire the work.”

“Would you believe it, we already have it noted down in our social calendar!” Eloise informed (Y/N). Benedict could sense her over-reacting, trying to keep a smile as (Y/N)’s face lit up in excitement. 

“Perfect!” (Y/N) looked back up at Ben, making him stand a little taller.“It will be nice to have someone there who knows about the artwork. It will make for an interesting conversation. Just don’t let my father lecture you, he will talk for far too long! And I know you will be too polite to try and get away.”

“My brother is very polite.” Eloise said.“In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t-”

“Excuse me for the intrusion,” a young man said from beside (Y/N),“but I was wondering if we could resume our dance lady (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) was smiling, but Eloise knew that look; it was the face women made when a man who made them uncomfortable approached, but they had to remain ladylike and polite.

“Actually my brother just asked her and she said yes. You two best make your way to the floor before the music starts again.” Eloise nudged her brother.

Benedict was confused at his sisters offer, until he locked eyes with (Y/N) again. They were pleading him to sweep her away, she was even leaning away from this man. He had been disrespectful in some way, and he wasn’t letting (Y/N) go through that again (despite only knowing the girl for a few minutes). He smugly smiled at the man, holding out his arm which (Y/N) took a little too quickly. Eloise was happy with herself as the pair walked off, sending the man a death glare when he asked her to dance instead. Once he left, her eyes went back to find her brother, who was already dancing with (Y/N), both smiling and laughing. Her mama was going to be ecstatic about this. 

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eloise sat in the drawing room, obviously lounging with a book. Her younger siblings were being irritating as usual, running around her in circles. Before they arrived, she had peace. Eloise wanted a few moments alone, because she knew her mama would be bursting with questions about the night before.

“Ah, there you are.” Violet said as she walked in.

The book flopped into Eloise’s lap, a frown on her face. There goes her reading time.

“So, how was last night? Did you meet anyone?” her mama sat beside her.“You two, go play outside if you’re going to run around please.”

The children stopped as their mama spoke, sending each other devilish grins before they ran out of the room again, their giggling echoing down the halls. Violet went to shout after them, but decided to leave it be, there were more pressing matters.

“Well mama, do you see any suitors?” Eloise gestured around her.

Violet sighed.“Did you even try last night?”

“My life will not be reduced to a single night where I was forced to peacock around in order to please a man.”

“Oh, Eloise, must you make everything so dramatic?”

“Funny, Benedict said the same thing.”

“Actually, where is your brother? I have not seen him all morning.”

“He went out.” Eloise was relieved that the focus would now be off of her.“He’s calling upon a lady.”

Violet’s eyes widened.“What? When? Who?”

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/L/N)? They are quite reputable.”

Eloise rolled her eyes.“Mama, she is a lovely girl. I don’t think you should just judge her on what family she comes from.”

“Oh, so you approve of this girl?”

“I…I mean…Well, I only spoke with her for a mere few minutes.”

“But?”

Eloise let out a huff.“I enjoyed her company. I think Benedict likes her. I didn’t see him for the rest of the night until it was time to leave. He spent all his time with her.”

Violet became overjoyed.“Oh, what marvelous news! I wish he had told me. Do you know what he took to her? Flowers? Food?”

“I have no idea mama. Just wait for his return and he will tell you all the details. I am not a psychic.”

Violet was impatient as she awaited the return of her son. Poor Collin had also been questioned when he showed up in the drawing room, but he had overslept in bed, waking with a terrible headache. It seemed that it was about to come back to him when his mama bombarded him with questions as to why he hadn’t called upon anyone that morning. Eloise kept her giggles quiet, ducking behind her book when Collin sent her daggers.

Poor Benedict had no idea what was in store for him. His cheeks were aching from how much he was smiling. He wasn’t surprised when he arrived at the (Y/L/N)’s house and saw multiple callers for (Y/N). However, jealousy rose inside him when he thought about these men dancing with her, trying to convince her that they were the man to marry. He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers, remembering that (Y/N) had mentioned her favourite the night before. Looking around at any other flowers she received, he was glad to see no other gentleman had chose it. Surely that would show he was listening? He endured sonnets, stories, songs and boasting from the other men, trying not to show his dissatisfaction as each one stepped forward. There was pressure that her parents were there, especially when he realised he was the last gentleman, everyone else had left.

(Y/N) had been incredibly anxious when she saw Benedict that morning. He had been the only man she genuinely smiled at, hoping he came at his own will, not forced by his mama. The night before had been the best ball (Y/N) had ever been to. Benedict was sweet, charming, handsome and interesting. They were able to talk about anything and everything, no small talk involved like all the other men she danced with. He had swooned her, and here he was, calling upon her. 

Back at the Bridgerton house, Violet had not sat down since talking Collin’s ear off. Eloise was still in the drawing room with her, as were her two youngest siblings, munching on biscuits as they threw questions at their mama. She did not have all the answers, sometimes not even hearing them speak for she was too deep in her thoughts. At one point, she did sit, but beside the window, o the lookout for any signs of her son. When a carriage pulled up in front of the house, Violet leapt out of her seat, startling her children. She made a beeline to the door, standing there with her hands clasped together. When Benedict walked in, he too flinched, not expecting his mama to be there.

“Mama, how long have you been stood there?” Benedict asked as he walked past her, pinching a biscuit from his brother’s plate.

“She’s been waiting for you.” Eloise explained, also excited to hear about his calling.

“I hope you sat down at some point.” he joked, sitting beside Eloise and slouching.

Violet hurried to sit on the sofa across him.“You didn’t tell me you were calling on a lady this morning.”

“Well, we got back late from the ball yesterday evening, and I had to leave early to ensure I got there in good time. Though it seemed every other man thought that too.”

“There were many men there?” 

“Yes, quite a few.”

Eloise straightened up at her brother’s grumpy expression.“You really like her!”

“How wonderful!” Violet gushed. 

“Do not get ahead of yourselves.”

“But you do, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have called on her.”

Ben was lost for words. He couldn’t argue with that, and he did like seeing his mama happy.“Yes, yes I do. And it would seem she reciprocates the feelings.”

“This is such good news! I must see what our social calendar looks like, we must ensure you two spend time together.”

“Actually mama-” Eloise went to tell her about the art exhibit until Ben interrupted.

“Good idea mama.” he nodded, smiling at her as she walked away, a spring in her step. Once she was gone, he let out a big breath.“I just needed a moment without questions from her.”

“Well, you’re going to have questions from me.” Eloise angled her body to face him, her elbow perched on the sofa with her face resting in her hand.“I didn’t think you were going to call upon her. Are my match making skills really that good?”

“I hate to admit it, but yes, you have done an excellent job.” Benedict felt relaxed thinking about (Y/N).

“So, what happened this morning?”

“I took her flowers, she told me her favourites last night, and then I had to sit there whilst her other gentleman callers desperately tried to impress her. It was agony! Finally I was able to have time with her, and it was just…I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Did you bring her anything else?”

Benedict became bashful.“I brought her a sketchbook, like the one I have. She mentioned how she used to often sketch when she was younger. I thought it would be a unique gift.”

“Benedict, you truly are a romantic at heart.”

“For her I am, yes.”

Eloise smiled for her brother, until a smirk fell on his face.“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Aw, is someone also a secret romantic?”

“No!” Eloise protested, quickly grabbing her book again.“I am just happy you found someone.”

“And you helped, because you secretly want everyone to find someone.”

“No I don’t! You’re ruining this moment now Benedict.”

“Don’t worry Eloise, you’ll find someone.” Ben joked.

She groaned.“You are insufferable…but I still want to go to that art exhibit.”

“To see love bloom?”

“N-no, to see the art work.”

“Of course, of course. But, thank you Eloise.”

This series follows Y/N Bridgerton, a Bridgerton sister who falls in love with Prince Friedrich against all odds.

It will be divided into two main stories:

Your Highness which will be courting cuteness

I’ll be in ruins for you which will contain more angst in their fight for true love.

Your Highness

1// in which Y/N Bridgerton makes quite the first impression on Prince Friedrich

2// in which Y/N Bridgerton finally hears what Prince Friedrich had been meaning to say in the gallery

3// in which Y/N Bridgerton faces a difficult choice between the expected and the unexpected

4// in which Y/N Bridgerton makes the decision

5// in which the Queen gives her verdict on Y/N Bridgerton and Prince Friedrich’s match

I’ll be in ruins for you

1// in which Prince Friedrich does not care that the Queen rejected his and Y/N’s match

2// in which Y/N cares that the Queen rejected hers and Friedrich’s match

3// in which Friedrich’s mother takes matters into her own hands

4// in which Frederica talks to the Queen about Friedrich and Y/N

5// in which Y/N and Friedrich reunite under an umbrella

6// in which Y/N and Friedrich get the ending they deserve

REQUESTS

headcanons:

pregnancy and post-pregnancy

their life in london (ft. dad club)

how i met your father

one shots

Me reading fan fiction:

CHRIS HEMSWORTH X READER

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both? 

She’s unsure, anxious, and slightly oblivious to the world from living in her bubble of comfort. He’s 100% sure, charmingly confidant, and tries to balance home life with his work life - its not as easy as it looks. 

This fic series is terrifyingly domestic, but is so sweet it makes my heart ache. 

A/N: Check out my tag #Abroad Feels for more on this story!! As always, thank you so much for the reblogs, likes, and comments!! Tags are open, send as ask or they may get lost in my notifications and I won’t see it. . 

Warnings: Smut (18+), anxiety (lots of it), injury to reader. fluff. 

ON GOING

secret language

Pairing: Peter Parker x Mute!Reader

Synopsis: a study in the silence that comes when two people understand each other

Masterlist

You sat alone at on a bench on your first day of kindergarten, feeling intimidated by the noise and spectacle of it all. You hugged your backpack to your chest, wishing the day could go faster so you could fo home.

Then he came up to you.

“Hi. I’m Peter.” A curly haired boy pulled the seat out next to you and sat down. You waved at Peter and put your backpack on the table, deciding to give him a chance.

“Do you have a name?” Peter asked, and you nodded your head. You took his hand and laid his palm flat, carefully writing your name with your finger.

synopsis: reader and tom are on james corden’s segment, ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’ 

a/n: this was supposed to turn out so much better idk what happened

warnings: none

“Stop fidgeting. It’s going to be great,” Tammy rolled her eyes as she swiped a little highlight on your cheek.

You bit your lip, “Have you seen that table?”

“It’s disgusting,” She snorted, “But if you answer everything, you won’t have to eat.”

“Easier said than done. I have no idea what he’s going to ask.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tammy shook her head, “You’re pretty much an open book, there’s no hidden scandal.”

You dipped your head, shutting your eyes for a moment as you exhaled, “What if he asks me about Tom?”

me:

An Elijah Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word length: 3,462

Warnings: none

Request:  Imagine being in a relationship with Elijah for decades, waiting for him to pop the question. But one day with some inspiration from Klaus you decided to take the matter into your own hands and propose to him. (by @emilyshurley)

It had been thirty years. Thirty amazing, adventurous, love filled years. But Thirty years nonetheless. And, to be frank, you were getting impatient.

Because there just isn’t enough content for the gorgeous Indiana Jones. Hope you enjoy this, and I’m sorry it’s been so long. I truly appreciate you all for sticking with me. If you have any prompts, I’m happy to take them for other characters as well <3 Enjoy!

TW: Threat, violence, excessive descriptions of Indiana’s muscles

“Dr Jones?” You poked your head around the door of your colleague’s classroom, smiling despite yourself when you saw him bent over his desk, fascinated by sone notebook that he shoved in his briefcase as soon as he saw you enter.

“Y/N! Good to see you!” He sat up straight and cleared some space on his desk, which you immediately perched on, smoothing down your dress and looking around the classroom, eyes settling on a bookcase filled to the brim with novels and textbooks, practically creaking under the weight.

“I just wanted to borrow a book - and say I’m glad to see you back,” Dr Jones left frequently for his archaeological digs, and you were pleasantly surprised whenever he returned.

He gestured towards the bookcase, smiling over his glasses as you walked towards it, running your finger down the spines. Your eyes locked on one old battered copy of a book, and you gently pulled it from the shelf.

You raised an eyebrow at the man sat opposite you.

“I didn’t take you for a fiction lover, Dr Jones,” You held up the book as he read the title.

“The Lost City of Paititi - that’s an interesting one. Old, too. The only copy of it in the world…” You watched his eyebrows furrow slightly as he jotted something down on his notepad.

“And I’m full of surprises, Y/N. Just because I teach about the history of the world doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy make-believe…”

You smiled, putting the book into your bag and heading for the door.

“For an archaeologist, you’re surprisingly fun,” You teased, and he rolled his eyes at you, shooing you from the room.

“You’re cruel, Y/N. Enjoy the book.”

You left his classroom and wandered to your car, where you pulled out the book and began to read. The yellowed pages were crisp in your hands; they were faded with age and covered in notes, from Dr Jones himself.

***

You saw Indiana the next day, as you wandered to your classroom to prepare for your first lecture of the day. The archaeologist rushed down the corridor, clutching his briefcase with a death grip.

“Christ!” You cried as the two of you collided, sending you sprawling to the ground in a pile of books and papers.

“Damnit! I’m sorry -” He looked up at you, suddenly realising who you were, “- Y/N!” He smiled, a charming grin that set your heart racing. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and helped you to gather your papers. The book he’d lend you had slid across the hall, landing at the bottom of the staircase. You picked it up, slipping it back into your bag and moving to help Indiana with his briefcase.

He was already bent over it, shoving items into it with a desperate vigour. You barely caught a glimpse of its contents (something small that shone in the bright overhead lights) before he snapped the case shut and got to his feet.

“Sorry, Dr Jones. I didn’t mean to -” He shook his head, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Not your fault. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He smiled at you and was gone. You noticed that he was walking faster than usual and that he had a slight limp.

More importantly, he was hobbling in the exact opposite direction to his classroom.

Narrowing your eyes, you let it slide, vowing to keep a close eye on your colleague.

***

Dr Jones must have secretly had an excellent taste in books. As an English professor, you loathed to pass up a book recommendation, although Indiana’s last few suggestions had appeared impossibly boring.

“Pottery in Archaeology? Sounds… riveting.” Indiana could tell you didn’t mean it, so you carefully placed the book back on his shelf. You were sat in his classroom with a steaming mug of coffee, listening to him murmur about artefacts as he sporadically passed you books.

“You sound so interested, Y/N. I hope I’m not boring you,” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning to face him.

“Come on, Dr Jones. You must have something exciting to tell me. Discovered any civilisations lately?” he chuckled like he was in on a secret you were unaware of.

“Just ancient rocks for me. Life of an archaeologist.”

You were curious about the book he’d lent you; it appeared no one else in the English faculty had heard of it. You had scoured the campus library for any record of such a text, and none had appeared. There was nothing you could find, apart from an obscure telegram about an increasing underground interest in the gold hidden in the lost city.

Perhaps Indiana was telling the truth. Maybe it was one of a kind.

The pages were crisp and yellowed with age, with Indiana’s scribbles in the margins. Some of the words were obscured by splotches of water. The book was older than you could imagine, and the thought of it being the only one of its kind made your heart race with excitement.

***

A week passed before you saw Dr Jones again. This time, it was three o’clock in the morning and your landline was ringing.

Groggily, you stumbled out of bed and grabbed the phone, mumbling a hello.

“Y/N? Thank God,” Indiana’s voice was instantly recognisable even with the crackling of the phone line.

“Indy? What’s wrong?” He didn’t reply for a second, and you began to wonder if you were dreaming. Until a loud knock could be heard at your front door, and you jumped, suddenly alert.

“Just stay inside, okay? Don’t move, don’t answer the door.” A loud crash could be heard from outside.

You backed away into the corner of your living room, still holding the phone.

“WHat’s happening? Indy, who’s outside?” You could hear rustling over the phone like he was getting ready to leave.

“It’s okay, doll, I’m coming. They want the book, keep it safe -” The line cut out, and all you could hear was silence on the other end.

Outside your house, the intruders appeared to have gone quiet. You stood still, rooted to the spot, clutching the phone to your chest and breathing heavily.

Silence.

You moved backwards, creeping to the door to run back to your room. You gripped the phone tighter. Your heart pounded. Slow, slow, slow.

The window in front of you shattered and glass flew across the room. It sliced your face and you stumbled backwards. You let out a scream as a tall man stalked towards you, followed by a burly henchman and a woman with a gun. You struggled backwards, your silk pyjamas catching on the wooden floor. The man yanked you up and grabbed your throat, his breath hot on your skin.

“Where is it?! You gasped, black spots appearing in your vision. Just tell them! Your mind screamed, but something overpowered it - something that trusted Indiana Jones more than you had expected.

You spat at the man holding you, desperately trying to shake off his grasp.

With courage you didn’t know you had, you kicked him in the shins and when he stumbled backwards, you ran - down the hall, and into your room where you slammed the door and leant against it. Your heart pounded in your chest, veins flushed with adrenaline.

“Open up!” The woman yelled, her fists pummelling the door. You shook with fear; what could you even use as a weapon? There was nothing in the room apart from your lamp, and… the book!

You launched yourself across the room, snatching the weathered copy of Indiana’s book and showing it in a box under your bed. Just as you turned to face the door, the invaders shoved through and strode towards you.

Grasping your hair in one hand, the woman pulled you to your feet before throwing you down on the other side of the room.

“Jesus, Lena - don’t mess her up too bad. We still need the goods,” She rolled her eyes at her burly companion, but instead of attacking you again, she crouched beside you, a small knife in the palm of her hand.

“Tell us where the book is, and we’ll let you go. Maybe we’ll let your adventurer friend live too…” You furrowed your brow in confusion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The men hissed and one reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small revolver. The woman must have heard them cock the pistol because she shook her head almost imperceptibly and moved her knife to your arm.

“Not yet. I want to make her talk.”

***

Indiana Jones looked incredibly out of place in your quiet suburban neighbourhood. He had his usual suit trousers on, paired with a white shirt and a battered fedora that cast a formidable shadow through the streets. He felt his bag with one hand and made a mental inventory of its contents - a handgun, a bullwhip and a flashlight.

Your house stood across from him, slightly isolated compared to the other homes in the suburban neighbourhood. From the outside, it appeared entirely normal, but the pile of shattered glass at the side told a different story.

He crept to the door, reaching into his bag for the spare key you’d given him weeks ago. Unlocking the door as stealthily as he could, he stepped into your hallway, following the quiet groans and murmured threats to your bedroom. Back pressed against the wall, he took a breath and began to orchestrate his plan.

—

“Still not talking, professor?” You shook your head, somehow staying lucid despite your swimming vision. The larger burly man moved towards you, gripping your chin between two fingers.

“Just give us that book - and we can let you go. Maybe you’ll even get some of the gold,” You ignored him, turning your face away but he didn’t let go; in fact, he raised his fist and slapped you across the face. You felt blood leak from your nose and you sprawled to the floor, letting out a defeated cry.

The woman shook her head, picking up her knife once again and holding it at your chest.

“Last chance. Give me the book. I swear to God, I will kill you -” You felt panic chill your blood. Last chance…

The knife moved closer to your chest at the silence. Breathe. Just tell them, you thought, but you couldn’t make yourself give up that stupid book or Indiana.

Closer now, you could feel it poke against your sternum when -

The knife was yanked away by something - a whip? Oh God, a whip. A man in a fedora stood in the door, reeling in his bullwhip and holding a pistol towards to gang.

“Get out,” He hissed, in a frightening twist on a very familiar voice. You looked up in shock and saw Dr Jones, his shirt ripped and his gun cocked, moving towards the attackers as they backed away.

“Indiana Jones…” You heard the woman murmur, and he advanced further towards them.

“Leave. You don’t wanna know what happens when you don’t follow my orders,” The burly man looked smug as moved towards Indiana, who suddenly pulled the trigger and got a clean shot at the man’s leg. He howled, and his cronies grabbed his arms and began to pull him from the house.

Indiana bent down next to you, tucking the smoking shotgun into his bag along with the bullwhip. He reached out, almost as if to hold you, but quickly pulled back and instead cupped your cheek.

“Jesus, doll, are you okay? I’m so sorry -” You shook your head blearily, and gently leant your head against his shoulder.

“S’alright,” You muttered, and he chuckled, lightly petting your hair.

“C’mon, my cars outside. I’m taking you to my house.” He picked you up, and through the hazy fog about to take you under, you shook your head and grabbed his shoulder.

“The book!” You called out. He shot you a confused look and then his eyes widened. Moving with a practised ease, he reentered the bedroom swiftly, following your shaky hand as you pointed to the book’s hiding spot.

He pulled it out and placed it in your hands; the pair of you left the room as Indiana grabbed a dress from your closet and your briefcase.

“Thanks, Indy…” You murmured, feeling close to unconsciousness.

“It’s alright, doll. Thanks for keeping the book safe - I just wish you hadn’t had to get hurt,” You shook your head, nuzzling further into his chest.

Your eyes slipped shut and you finally let the darkness take you over, from the warm strength of Dr Jones’ arms.

-

When you woke up, you were curled up in an unfamiliar bed, a shadowy figure perched next to you in an armchair. Confused, you sat up slowly as your head began to pound.

“Where am I?” You slurred, and the figure reached out a hand to grasp yours.

“My house, Y/N. You’re safe here,” You nodded, beckoning him onto the bed. He sat beside you, flicking on a light despite the sunshine sneaking under the blinds. In his hands was the book you’d nearly died to protect.

“I’m glad the book’s safe,” Indiana shook his head, gently wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. If I’d known they’d come after you…” He trailed off and you placed a hand against his cheek.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline or the woozy state of your brain, but you felt another burst of courage. Turning to face Indy, you pressed your lips to his.

He was shocked for a moment, but a calloused hand grabbed your waist and kissed you hard.

When you pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours.

“You know, I need someone to come with me and track down those bastards,” You grinned against his lips.

A/N: Hi guys!! So here is a request of @deepestfirefun The idea was so cute! I hope that you will like it! 

Request:  Thorin x reader (human, little smaller than average human) She has very long and thick hair and has problems taming it one (knots etc) Thorin notices that and offers to help. She agrees without really thinking about its significance to dwarves. While Thorin is busy with her hair, she suddenly remembers what it means in dwarven culture when a male us attending female’s hair. She actually has strong feelings for him but because he is a king, she has been quiet about it and is wondering how is it possible to someone so fierce and ruthless warrior like Thorin to be so gentle. Thorin is secretly happy that she has allowed him to help her and notice that she has fallen some sort of trance by his touch. Looooots of fluff!!!!

Fandom: The Hobbit 

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Human!Reader

Forever taglist: @weirdnewbie​ @villainlove​ @fizzy-custard​ @fictionalquintessence​ @ealasaid​ @xalexandriaxk​ @maidenadventure​ @sdavid09​ @lainternettuale​ @deepestfirefun​ @shewalksinanotherworld​ @fangirl570​ @tschrist1​ @babybarrie​ @fandomgalcentral​ @j25m18c24​ @bbcrazypraise​ @tenthousandcolors​ @sesshomaru-lover​

Courting Customs (Thorin x Reader)

You sighed as you sat on a log not so far away from the company at night. It wasn’t a particularly cold night but the wind was chilly and you started to shiver, alone on your log. The fire was surrounded by the dwarves, not that they didn’t try to make you sit with them but you were too pissed off to be among others for now. You groaned and almost threw your hairbrush on the ground as you tried to untangle your long (H/C) hair desperately. You had always love your hair, for a human you had beautiful long and thick hair, almost as soft as an elf and almost as thick as a dwarf. You were proud of your beautiful locks and you always loved taking care of them. However, now that you were riding on a pony in the wild all day long, you slowly started to get annoyed by your long and tangled hair. It was simply a mess, no matter how long you brushed your locks in hope to finally remove the knots and how hard you tired, you could never manage to untangle them. It was so infuriating that you started to get grumpier as the days passed. The company saw your struggle but no one dared to propose their help.

It was a serious matter for dwarves as no one other than the husband of a lass or the dwarf who’s courting them can touch their hair. Balin had told you about the courting customs among dwarves a while ago but it has weirdly vanished off of your mind as you slowly started to get angrier with each day passing. Even Bilbo couldn’t dare to touch your hair but only because he was afraid of Thorin’s wrath. You didn’t know it but the dwarf King had his eyes on you since the first time you met him at Bag End. You had intrigued him with your big (E/C) beautiful eyes and your charming smile. He remembered wondering how a daughter of men could be so small as you only reached Thorin’s height. You were indeed smaller than an average human but Thorin couldn’t care less, it even increased his interest in you. However, Thorin remembered looking with want and adoration at your hair. It seemed so soft and glorious. Slowly, the King started to fall in love with you and he hopelessly tried to keep you safe. Thorin tried to make you notice his care for you but weirdly, any attempt would go unnoticed. So much that the dwarf started to think that you would never return his feelings.

On the other hand, you were completely and utterly in love with Thorin Oakenshield. You loved everything about him, his kind heart, his courage, his strength, his love for his kin, his deep blue eyes, … You knew that your attraction toward the king was more than a simple crush. However, every time you caught yourself fantasying about what your life could be with Thorin by your side, you quickly remembered who he was and how unworthy a common folk like you was for the greatest king among dwarves. Your heart clenched every time you thought about your forbidden love for the soon to be King. It was simply impossible and you knew it.

Your hand clenched around your hairbrush as you closed your eyes, trying not to shout in desperation and anger as yet another knot got stuck in your brush. You sighed and let the brush fall on the ground as you finally gave up. From the other side of camp, Thorin was watching you struggle with your hair. The king sat next to Dwalin and Balin, wondering if he should make the final step and see if you would accept to be courted by him. The king was scared as he watched you, he had already accepted his fate. Dwarves could only love once and he had recognized you as his One. Thorin’s heart and soul were now linked to yours even if you might not feel the same.

“Go talk to her.” An annoyed gruff voice said from next to Thorin by the fire. The dwarf king wiped his head to look at his friend with wide eyes.

“Who are you talking about?” Thorin answered, trying to hide his shocked face.

“Who do you think I’m talking about! (Y/N)! She occurs to be the only one here I can refer as ‘she’.” Dwalin said sassily, making his brother smirk. Balin looked at you then at his king with a soft smile.

“My brother is right, lad. (Y/N) seems to have some issue with taming her hair lately. The lass would definitely need some help from your capable hands.” Balin said and Thorin groaned.

“She does not need my help, or at least she does not want it.”

“How can you know?” Dwalin scoffed, rolling his eyes at his stubborn friend.

“She did not blink when I gave her my share of food, she did not…” Thorin started to explain but Balin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“(Y/N) is not a dwarf, Thorin. She doesn’t know how to react properly to what you’re doing for her. She might just think that you are being nice to her.” The old adviser said wisely. Thorin stared at Balin for a while before finally looking down in defeat and sighed.

“Very well… I will try.” Thorin muttered grumpily as he looked back up at you then finally got up.

Dwalin and Balin smirked at each other as they observed their king and friend walk in your direction. Dwalin sent a stern look Fili and Kili’s way as he saw them make a move to follow their uncle. The two young princes quickly sat back down next to Bofur and Bifur, scared to challenge the ruthless warrior. Thorin approached your shaking form with slow paces, the king squeezed his palms into fists with nervousness. The possibility of yet another rejection was too much to handle for the poor awkward king. Thorin was usually quite proud and sure of himself but every time he was around you, he didn’t know how to act. You made him nervous without even knowing. Thorin stopped before you, his boots only visible for your leaning head. You slowly looked up, your (E/C) eyes meeting his deep blue ones and you blushed.

“T… Thorin.” You stuttered his name, making him smile. Maybe he wasn’t the only one to feel nervous after all.

“My lady.” Thorin answered with a small bow of his head. You chuckled softly at his choice of word and smiled up shyly at him. “I couldn’t help but see you struggle to tame your hair.” His deep baritone voice made butterflies fly in your stomach but you quickly made them all fly away, trying to keep your brain focused on the conversation.

“Y… Yes. Unfortunately, it seems that I can’t untangle the mess the wind and the wild transformed my hair into.” You answered with an embarrassed chuckle. Thorin looked at you with kindness and another feeling that you didn’t think possible.

“Well, my Lady. Would you like me to try for you?” Thorin asked with the smallest but also gentlest smile you had even seen.

“You mean… You would help me with my hair?” You asked, confused.

“Yes. If you want me to, I can take care of your hair for you. I had to do it quite a lot with my little sister.” Thorin admitted, the memory of Dis young and giggling as he tried to brush her hair warming his heart. You smiled at his words and took your hairbrush from the ground with a soft smile.

“It would be very nice of you, Thorin.” You said and extended your arm in front of you to hand him the brush. Thorin’s eyes widen and lit up as he bowed before you and gently took the hairbrush from your hand. His warm fingers brushed against the skin of your palm, making a shock of electricity ran up your arm and shivers down your back. Once again you tried to catch hold of your emotions but the strange pull you felt toward Thorin was even harder to control with his hands touching yours.

“Thank you, my Lady.” Thorin breathed out but you frowned and shook your head.

“It’s me who should thank you, Thorin. And… Hm… I’m not a Lady. I’m simply (Y/N).” You answered with flushed cheeks as you slid from the log to the ground so Thorin could take your place on the log. The King sat behind you, your back between his knees and for the first time, he ran his rough fingers through your hair.

“In my opinion, you are a Lady.” Thorin breathed next to your ear, his warm breath mixed with his fingers touching the base of your neck making your eyelids heavy as much that you closed your eyes and a soft sound of approval left your lips. Thorin smiled as he saw your reaction to his touch and started to work.

Slowly and gently, Thorin ran the brush through your hair, enjoying the feeling of your silky locks brushing on the skin of his palms and through his fingers. He hummed softly just for you both to hear, his voice sounded fantastic, like heaven to  your ears. The deep vibration he was creating reverberated in your ears and in your chest, sending your body into some kind of trance, feeling too relaxed and at peace to even see the looks of shock and amusement the company was casting you.

Thorin was happy that you had finally agree to let him help and he tried to pour all his love and adoration for you in his movements. His hands finished brushing your hair, magically taming it with graceful skills and he started to slowly massage your scalp making you hum in appreciation. Thorin smiled, amused to see you in such a state. You couldn’t believe that such a ruthless and fierce warrior like Thorin could be so gentle and caring. Weirdly you had the impression that he saved this soft side for only the ones he loved. However, you couldn’t understand why you suddenly had the privilege to see his secretive soft side.

His hands were now playing with your locks, secretly enjoying their texture on his skin. He took a deep breath and started to braid your hair as your eyes opened slowly, a content smile on your lips. However, a frown appeared on your features as you saw the smirks on the company’s faces. Balin smiled at you and casted him a confused look, why were they all looking at you as if another head had popped out of your neck? You tried to understand, your brain fuming and trying to remember. Then, your eyes widen and you gasped, making Thorin stop braiding and look at you.

“Are you alright?” Thorin’s deep voice asked from behind you, one of his hands squeezing your right shoulder.

“Yes.” You squeaked out, your eyes still wide open. You cleaned your throat then started to talk. “You know… I had a long talk with Balin the other day…” Thorin kept braiding your hair and hummed to make you keep going.

“And we talked about courting customs.” At your words Thorin felt his cheeks slightly flush. “He told me that dwarves were really protective of their women and that dwarves could only love once. You call those ‘One’ if I remember well. He said it is like a soulmate.” You said, twiddling your thumbs nervously.

“Yes, this is true.” Thorin said, trying to understand where you were going.

“He also talked about the importance of hair in your courting customs.”

“Did he?” Thorin said but at the same time the King glanced up to glare at his old friend. Balin smiled then leaned in to say something to Dwalin.

“Yes, he did.” You said. “So, there is something that I must have misunderstood. Balin told me that touching the hair of someone was reserved to family or your lover.” Your cheeks were as red as a tomato as you felt Thorin clip something in your hair.

“You understood perfectly, Ghishavel.” Thorin whispered as he finally let go of your hair. You turned around slowly, your eyes landing on a smiling Thorin.

“Then… Why did you propose to help me with my hair?” Your voice was shaking, scared to hear the answer. Thorin staid silent for a while his eyes never leaving yours.

“Because I care for you. Deeply.” Thorin breathed and your mouth fell agape.

“This… This is impossible.” You breathed out and Thorin frowned.

“Why? Why is that so hard to consider?” Thorin asked as he got up in a start making you jump on your feet as well.

“Because you are a king and I… I am nothing.” You answered sadly. “I care for you too, Thorin but we could never…” Thorin shook his head and stepped forward then cupped your cheeks in his calloused hand.

“Stop. Don’t say that.” Your heart stopped as Thorin’s forehead touched yours. “Don’t say that we are not meant to be.”

“Thorin…” You breathed out.

“(Y/N), I don’t care about what other Lords could think. You are my One, my soulmate, my one and only love.” Thorin said, his nose touching yours and his breath ghosting over your lips. “I will always love you, even if you don’t feel the same I will forever care for you, I will forever try to keep you safe.” Thorin’s hand slowly shift from your cheek to your hair, his fingers softly brushing over the new braids in your hair including the one with Thorin’s bead clasped at the end. You closed your eyes, trying to process everything. It seemed too surreal, too perfect to be true but for once in your life you deserved to be happy.

“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield. More than anything on this earth, I’ll love you until my last breath and even after death.” You whispered, making Thorin’s eyes shine with happy tears.

“I love you too, Amrâlimê. With all my heart. My soul is yours.” You smiled and giggled happily at his word then Thorin asked something that made you blush.

“Amrâlimê, may I kiss you?” Thorin breathed. Your lips were brushing as you both breathed heavily and you nodded your head slowly, not trusting your voice.

Thorin smiled then slowly closed the distance between your lips, pulling you into a gentle but passionate kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft for someone who was spending so much time in the wild. His kiss was breathtaking, literally. Your lips moved in sync and you both tried to pour all your love for each other into this single moment, as well as all the longing and passion you had tried to hide for months. You smiled as you finally pulled away to breathe and Thorin pulled you in his arms then span you around in circles, laughing in joy as the entire company cheered for you and their king.

You didn’t know what you had done to deserve his love but you were never going to complain.

Tell me what you think! I always love to have feedbacks! 

The Hobbit

B-DAY

Imagine Thorin Choosing To Court You

For My Followers

Nerves are bubbling in your stomach as your mother braids daintily crafted metal flowers into your hair. She made the metal and gemstone flowers for you, for your coming of age ceremony. Your father and her are the kings best blacksmiths because they can craft in such detail.

“Are you ready for your party (Y/N)?” your mother inquires as she finishes your hair. You’re finally ready we’ll psychically.

A long red dress with a golden belt cling to your form and your hair is in piles of fanciful raids. You couldn’t be more with pretty.

“I believe,” you reply and gulp. At the coming of age part for dwarves they choose a craft to pursue, suitors come forward to request courting, and man gifts are given. You are most nervous about the courting part.

“My sweet daughter all will be well. You do not have to accept any requests of courtship if you do not desire to,” your mother assures and kisses your forehead.

You’re concerned no one will request to court you. You’re rather unattractive in dwarvish terms and you haven’t many friends. The only close friend you have is Bilbo Baggins a dear friend of the kings. The kings nephews are very kind to you and the king is also polite when he sees you.

“Thank you mother,” you murmur and stand up. “Now it is time for us to get going. I would not want to be late for my own party.”

~~~

Your celebration goes smoothly through you choosing your craft and opening your gifts.

The courting part came up too suddenly for you.

~~~

“If any suitors wish to come forward and offer their hand to this dwarrowdam you are invited to do so now,” you father declares through gritted teeth.

From your read felt seat in the center of the large party hall you see no one stir.

And just like that all your greatest fears are realized. Now one wants to court you.

Trying to hold back tears you flash a false smile to the crowd and fluff your skirts.

“As I thought, shall we presume the festivities?” you suggest only barely managing to keep the waver from your voice.

“Wait,” a deep voice rumbles and your heart skips a beat.

Looking up you watch the crowd part and King Thorin stroll through to stand before you.

Whispers pick up in the crowd and you flush bright red.

“King Thorin? You’ve come to my celebration? I’m honored,” you say and move to stand so you can curtsy.

“Stay seated (Y/N),” he guides and you go till. “I have come to ask if I may court you.” Thorin kneels down and presents a bejeweled jewelry box to you. With shaky hands and a horde of butterflies in your stomach you reach out to it. Opening it up you find a golden tiara with shimmering gemstones encrusted in it.

“Is that?”

“I shattered the Arkenstone to forge a crown for when you become queen of you accept my request,” he explains and the crowd gasps.

You gape at him in utter shock. You had no idea this was coming.

“I accept,” you say barely above a whisper. He doesn’t hear you so you inhale deeply. “I accept.” The grin that spreads across his face makes your stomach roll in happiness.

“Bless you (Y/N),” he breathes and embraces you. The crowd claps and cheers while your parents weep tears of joy.

“You were always so polite I just thought..” you trail off unable to think clearly.

“(Y/N) you possess a heart unlike any other and a true beauty that rivals that of the Arkenstone. Every time we met you made me feel truly young and joyful again. I’ve known from the start that you are my one,” he confesses and you can help but grin wildly.

“I’ve always wished for you to court me and now it’s real. I’m just so happy,” you admit and stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

“And I as well.”

~~~

Thorin and you court for a year before getting impatient and deciding to wed.

You miss Tony stark

You miss Natasha Romanoff

You miss Thor

You miss Clint Barton

You miss Steve Rogers

You miss Bruce Banner

AND LASTLY…

You f*cking miss the OG avengers