#678 "He’s fearless in battle, can lead his people across middle earth, can forge weapons, face down a dragon and sass an elvenking. But he’s terrified of making the first move or being rejected. So he acts all gruff and aloof until you break the spell."
|Fic request where Thorin's girlfriend explains her stretch marks as a way to explain her fear of not wanting to get physically intimate with him. But he comforts her and manages to convince her that he finds her sexy anyway (in a very physical way)|
Anon, as a person who knows a thing or two about stretch marks, this came from my heart:
You’re pleasantly surprised by the look on Thorin’s face as he holds the goodbye gift you made for him: a small wooden charm carved into your interpretation of the Arkenstone, on a leather string. You made sure it was not too big or flashy, so as not to attract attention if he ever decided to wear it.
Thorin ties it around his neck without hesitation, then pulls you close to finally kiss you. It’s been two days since you first laid eyes on each other in your father’s shop, shooting sparks in the air, so this moment has been building.
Knowing the company’s stop through your village — to tend to injuries and restock on supplies — is about to end, you’ve been stealing glances and moments together, behind the shop and now in the woods away from the group’s campfire. But you were always interrupted.
It’s just as well, you think; you don’t want him to get too close a look. Let this dream be enough.
As his lips press against yours, his hands begin to wander all over you. But when he reaches under your top near your navel, you abruptly pull away.
Thorin looks startled, and apologizes immediately.
“Please don’t be sorry. It’s not you,” you assure him.
He’s quiet, trying to figure out what’s the matter.
“You belong to another?” he asks.
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
“You —- don’t want me, then?”
“No. I mean, yes! Yes, of course I do. It’s just that…I’ve, I’ve got …”
You know that Thorin has seen just about every type of scar, mark, and scratch. But these are different. Would he understand?
“Tell me,” he whispers.
You release a breath, then bunch your shirt up at the hem, and slowly slide the fabric up to reveal a mass of squiggles over your belly.
Thorin gazes at them, commanding his eager hands to stay back. His eyes turn to yours, and you take that as a signal to continue.
“Last year, I put on some – a lot — of weight. My skin….” Oh, where are the words?
He’s still looking at you, waiting for more.
You decide to blurt it out. “These are stretch marks, and I hate them.”
He’s got nothing to say yet.
“And…I’m very self-conscious about them,” you add.
Thorin searches your face for more answers.
“And…” There’s something deep in your chest hollering to get out, but you don’t dare let it.
Thorin brushes a wisp of hair from your forehead, then runs his finger down your cheek, his eyes fixed on yours. You tremble under his gaze.
“Do you think those marks make you less desirable to me?”
You nod, and try to swallow back the ache in your throat. He’s done it; he’s reached into that awful place and taken the words straight from your heart.
“From the first moment I saw you,” he says, cupping your face in his hands, “I drew strength from you. I don’t know how that is possible. I don’t know how this is real. But I do know that there is nothing in this world or the next that could make you undesirable to me.”
Thorin leans closer to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, his pelt soaking up your tears. His arms circle you protectively at first, then as his hands massage your back and his lips nibble your neck and your ear, you feel his passion growing stronger. This is not a dream; he wants you, all of you.
You pull back, wipe your face, then take his right hand in yours. You guide his fingers to your belly, and let him touch.
#2097 I’m tall, about 5’7” and Thorin is 5’2”. So I’d imagine that he loves getting hugs from me because he just gets a face full of breasts and he hates when I hug any other dwarf or hobbit. And when his nephews find out about it they set us up together.
#2112 Thorin’s deep, steady, commanding voice whispering against your skin as he holds you against his strong, muscled torso.
#2217 I rewatched DoS the other day and in the scene where Thorin puts the key into the hidden door at Erebor and pushes it open I couldn’t help but stare at his hands. I’d never thought about Thorin much in this way but looking at them and the look on his face as the door opened sent my stomach into knots and butterflies up into my chest and left me blushing.
#2222 I imagine Thorin is a very passionate lover who gets pleasure from pleasing. He’ d eat you out like a starved wild man. Humming into you and making your legs quiver. As you squirm from the sensation, he’d grip his hands tighter around your thighs, refusing to stop until you have climaxed and are screaming his name.