That's Their Sister

That's their sister

Here’s a pt 2 no one asked for lol

Juicy July 2023 // Day 21 // Prompt: Hiking / Camping Thorin Oakenshield x f!reader Sent in by anonymous request

Content & Trigger Warnings: unprotected PiV (it’s fantasy, wrap it up)

Word Count: 824

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, 18+

event masterlist // ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

It’s not out in the open, not really, but everyone knows what’s happening.

Fili and Kili are on watch while the rest of the company rests on the forest floor in an oddly shaped crescent moon formation. The night is a bit cold, not enough to make the fingers and toes feel like needles, but enough that one can see their breath.

It’s quiet except for the wind, which makes a few of them think of howling spirits. In that noise is a voice, yours, a whisper, but heard as if caught up in the blistering sound.

“We can’t.”

It’s met by the rumbling rasp of Thorin responding but no one can discern what he says.

“What are they whisperin’ about?” asks Ori softly.

“None of your business,” mutters Dwalin. “Now, go to sleep.”

Bofur jerks up when he hears you whimper. It slices through the cold and the wind. He turns his head to look before Dwalin sits up and knocks him on the thigh.

Bofur scowls. “Excuse—”

“Hush,” states Dwalin plainly. “They’re having a moment. Leave em’ alone.”

“Doing what exactly?” Bofur pushes, thick eyebrows rising in an almost mocking manner.

“Doing what put all of us in our mothers’ belly. Now, mind yourself. Go to sleep.”

Bofur blinks, nearly chokes, his face going bright red before he throws himself back down on his bedroll.

Everyone pretends as if they see and hear nothing.

“We can’t.”

“The wind’s too loud. No one will hear.”

“I don’t think-”

“I need you.”

Thorin is on top, one arm braced beside your face. Your hand clasps the back of Thorin’s head and then slips lower to dig your fingernails into the nape of his neck.

He takes you in a slow, lazy manner. Thorin has one hand under the crown of your skill, pillowing it from the uncomfortable ground. Your heel slides down the back of his thigh. He thrusts a little more sharply, and it forces a moan from your lips.

“Shh,” he murmurs. Thorin’s tone is coaxing and tender.

You palm Thorin’s cheek, thumb running under his bottom lip. He is inside you, thick and searing. He drives forward in low, sharp strokes. He rumbles words of contentment into your neck, laying flat on top of you, hips rolling between your spread thighs, insistent.

Thorin shifts slightly, bracing his weight, eyes glinting in the dark. You cling to him, holding tight even though he has you pinned. He rocks forward, then back at a consistent rhythm, enjoying the warmth of your body. Knowing Thorin, he might do this until morning, until the dawn slinks ruby-red over the horizon.

He’s done it before.

No matter how subtly he takes you, Thorin is still heavy, so big that every plunge aches like an old burn. He punches the breath from your lungs, his bare hand finding purchase over your mouth when you whimper or grunt. This pleasure is debilitating. Thorin blankets you, holding you down, thrusting deep, but careful as to not make too much sound that could awaken the others.

Thorin nuzzles his nose along your jaw. Another thrust, and you clench. You whimper. Thorin grasps your hip, squeezes like he’ll leave a bruise, which you don’t mind. You always love the marks Thorin leaves on your skin.

Thorin peers down at you, the weight of him inside seeming to swell and pulse. You’re stretched to your limit, knees clamped around his waist. Thorin nips at your skin and grinds his pelvis against you, pushing up against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Your back arches as much as it can, nails stabbing into his neck. You can feel the strain of the muscles, the bunching of his shoulder blades as you clench around him, his own body reacting.

Thorin is in your lungs, in your stomach, embedded into your entire being, and you can’t remember where you end, and he begins.

You bite your lip, eyes rolling back when Thorin delivers another stroke, his length and girth dragging against your walls. To stifle your moan, you lean in and press your mouth to his. Thorin takes it, almost greedy in the way he accepts.

That pace disappears. Thorin pounds a bit harder, a bit faster as the wind picks up and howls. Then you’re exploding around him, lost in a sea of pleasure, thrown off the boat, sinking fast. Distantly, you hear and feel Thorin groan into your mouth. Then you’re entirely full, nearly overstuffed, and then it’s so much wetter between your legs.

Everything comes back into focus. Thorin’s mouth is sweet and tender against yours. You peek over his shoulder and see everyone in their place. Asleep. You think. You hope.

“No one heard,” you mouth.

Thorin twists and then you notice a few heads drop quickly to their bedrolls.

Heat creeps up your neck and Thorin stifles a chuckle before draping himself over you again.

taglist:

@chaosartic @slovoss @shireluva @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @everydayiamtrifling @beholdgremlins @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot

One More White Hair.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (human)

Warnings: ANGST! Insecurity, mutual pining, fluff.

Summary: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you but won't let on as he believes he's an old man and is no good for you'.

Comments: Requested by two anons and @lemond57 Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll regarding when this fic should be set. The majority asked for post Quest. We also get a bit of match-maker Dis. So, enjoy!

As always, if you like the story, please consider a reblog. It really does help. If you would like to be added to any of my story tag lists, or my Follow Forever tag list (where you’re tagged in everything) then please let me know.

Thorin sighed as he stood in front of his full length dress mirror. He was sure that another grey hair had appeared overnight. It shone silver as it wove through his braid. Each hair was a reminder of all those years that he was ahead of you. But nothing could stop his heart wanting you as much as it did. By human years you were in your prime of life, at your peak. Thorin felt as though he was now deflated, crumbling away as he approached his second century. Surely if he had met you all those years ago when he was young, and his hair was black and his skin free of blemish, you would have fallen for him. The scars which littered his body acted as a map of all the wars he had participated in. Each blemish was a sign of his experience. Your skin was still unmarked, unbroken. So much innocence.

That evening would be your weekly dinner with Thorin, the rest of his court advisers and Dis. Since being part of the King's Company only a few months prior, Thorin had made sure you now had a home, security and position. You remembered your first day at council, all eyes were on you. No one of the race of Men had ever taken a seat on Dwarf council. However, as time passed, you had gradually found your place. Dwalin and Balin had welcomed you immediately, having been two of your traveling companions.

In your bedchamber and you began pushing through the clothing which hung in your wardrobe. Dresses, tunics, shawls, cloaks, robes. One dress sat at the end of the line of clothing: it was the dress that Thorin had gifted you upon moving into your bedchamber. It was deep, midnight blue. Dresses always made you feel insecure, as if unwanted attention would be drawn to you and mockery would be shown. And this one had been no exception, until now. You picked it up and draped it over your arm. Something hit you, a revelation... it was the same colour that Thorin always wore. Had this been a simple coincidence? Probably. You highly doubted that Thorin would have thought that deeply into such a thing as this.

With a sigh, you shifted away and began to dress for the occasion.

Thorin was first in the hall, sitting at the head of the table. And gradually everyone began to appear, filling up the seats around the long table. Wine and ale was on hand, plenty to keep everyone merry.

You sat at the far end of the table, next to Balin. First off, you placed a napkin into your lap, preparing for the meal. Then you looked up and noticed Thorin glancing at his own reflection in a goblet. Why did he do this so often? Was he becoming vain?

Thorin sighed and looked over toward you, noticing that you had your gaze in your lap. But his heart hammered in anxiety and delight at the sight of you wearing the dress. It looked just as he had imagined; it was a snug fit and showed off your curves beautifully.

Balin smirked to himself as he noticed Thorin watching you. It had become known within the main circle of advisers that Thorin had his eye on you. However, you remained oblivious to the fact.

The evening went as it normally did: eating, drinking and plenty of chatter.

You noticed that Dis kept whispering to Thorin, nudging him. But his face would then contort and grow angry, until finally he hissed something at her and she crossed her arms in frustration. "I think you take the stubbornness of Dwarves to a whole new level!" Dis exclaimed.

"Enough!" Thorin bellowed.

Everyone stared for a second at the King and his sister, then shifted their nervous gazes elsewhere.

"Umm, we'll begin taking our plates to the kitchens," you proposed, feeling awkward. The rest of the table, apart from Thorin and Dis, muttered in agreement and grabbed their plates and cutlery, hurrying to the kitchen, which was just out of the hall.

Thorin and Dis remained sat down, almost side by side.

"Thorin, I'm being serious, you need to tell her," Dis said, her voice soft but firm. "You've given everything for this kingdom, for our people. You deserve some happiness. I see the way you look at each other."

"Dis!" Thorin warned.

"You think the fact you're older than her makes a difference. It doesn't."

"Look at me!" Thorin exclaimed. "I'm an old man. What kind of woman would want..."

"She would," Dis replied. "Trust me. You've got nothing to lose here, Thorin, and everything to gain. Just talk to her."

Thorin sighed and smiled weakly at Dis. "I shall."

As the guests of Thorin's dinner began to disperse, he called you back. "Can I talk with you privately?" he asked.

Dis smiled to herself and winked at Thorin as she disappeared out of the main double doors.

"Of course," you said. You sat down at the table where Dis had been sat. "You look worried. What's bothering you?" The set of his face seemed to be that of anguish. Did this relate to his outburst earlier?

Thorin blinked hard and looked down at the table.

You reached across and took his hand. "You've put your faith and trust in me this far, please do not stop now."

"I..." Thorin began, his silver blue eyes locked with your gaze. "I love you."

You gasped, unable to hold back your shock at this. "You...you..."

"I love you," he said again. "But I'm old, and while I know my sister means well, she doesn't see the years on my face that I do. Every time I look in the mirror, I see one more white hair. My body is littered with scars. I should not be yearning for you the way I do...."

You gripped his hand tighter, your thumb caressing his. "You're not old. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"What?"

You smiled as you saw his eyes widen in shock. "I mean it. You are. You might be older than me, Thorin, but I never see your age. I just see a beautiful man who I would never have any chance with."

Thorin chuckled. "You're very wrong in your estimation of chances."

You brushed your hand through his long locks, still smiling as you did so. "These white hairs just add to how handsome you are, you know?"

"You are trying to flatter me now..."

"No, I'm speaking the truth. I'd never speak anything but truth to you. I've seen you look at your own reflection so many times, and I kept wondering if you were growing vain."

Both of you couldn't help but laugh.

Thorin cupped your cheek with his hand. "It felt like with each new white hair you were growing further and further away from me."

"Never," you whispered, and leaned in for a kiss.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @xxbyimm @linasofia @guardianofrivendell @middleearthpixie @knittastically @meganlpie @luna-xial @asgardianhobbit98 @lemond57 @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @missihart23 @eunoiaastralwings @evenstaredits @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @mrsdurin @quiall321 @glassgulls @catthefearless @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @braidedheart

The Hobbit tag list: @flowerniche

Middle-earth tag list: @missmaeve @sotwk

(Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from any tag lists)

Hehehehe… Some older Thorin art (which I have posted here before)