Thorin fic, baby delivery, under 500 words. - Kitty
You drop your basket of flowers as sudden pressure radiates through your belly and water runs down your leg.
This baby is coming.
“THORIN!” you call, with every bit of energy you can muster, before resting on the ground.
Uninterested in flower-picking, Thorin had stepped away to smoke his pipe. He’d argued with you this morning that this was an unnecessary trip, but you had insisted on having flowers of your choosing by the bed when the baby came.
He’d grumbled, annoyed with your womanly longings, but agreed to take you to the fields anyway. Now you realize you should have listened to him.
You hear his pony galloping toward you. Thorin slides off the beast before it comes to a full stop. There’s no need for questions. He rushes to your side and tries to get you up, to take you back to Erebor where nurses are waiting.
“No time,” you say, crying out again. You want to push.
”Tell me what to do,” he says, desperation in his low voice.
“Your pelt,” you say. “Put it underneath me.”
To your surprise, he does not hesitate in removing his cherished pelt from his shoulders, and slides it under your bent knees. Then he strips you of your undergarments and most of your layered skirt.
You feel the baby’s head trying to come through, aggressive and determined, just like his father.
You scream and push, but to no avail.
“I can’t do this!” you cry helplessly.
“YOU CAN AND YOU WILL!” Thorin roars.
You look at him, expecting to see anger. But all you see is the fight in him.
He moves in front of you again and places his hands on your knees, looking between them.
“He’s got a full head of hair,” Thorin says, tears welling in his eyes. He’s always referred to the baby as a son, and you have come to believe it is, too.
With all your remaining strength, you hold your breath and give one final push until you feel the baby slip from your body.
It starts to cry, and so do you.
“Everything’s fine,” Thorin assures you, beaming at the baby. He works quickly, pulling a knife from his boot and cutting the umbilical cord. He rests the baby on the pelt as he rips your skirt in half. With one piece, he gently wipes the child clean. With the other, he swaddles the tiny thing, who immediately quiets.
“Let me see our son,” you say, eagerly reaching for the bundle.
Thorin comes to your side and places the child on your chest before stroking your cheek and smiling.
“We have a daughter.”
#456 "Thorin’s hair when he’s lost in Mirkwood is the sexiest thing ever! I imagine that’s just how his hair would look after he has sex."
#470 ”I want to spend a whole night with Thorin just cuddling in a warm fuzzy bed of wolf pelts. His huge warm forearms around my shaking frame.”
|Do you accept submissions, precious?|
Of course, m’dear! :)
"Imagine Thorin holding you like a baby, arms around you in a protective curl. He speaks to you, gently, softly while you rest against his warm chest, feeling safe and sound. You dose off to the land of dreams, knowing your King will be there when you awake." ~ via submission.
#415 "I had a dream where Thorin was sleeping with me. Just sleeping. His arms around my body and his breath against my neck. He looked so calm with this little smile on his lips."
"Thorin’s hands were calloused, toughened and scarred from battle after battle. But against the quivering curves of her skin, they felt as soft and light as a dove’s feather. His fingertips tickled and aroused her as they glided over her shoulders, down her arms and back up again, across her bare breasts, across her nipples. His lips brushed against hers; his tongue tasted hers. His deliberate moves tortured her. She wanted to devour him, to overtake him, to melt with him, with lightning speed. But he wanted to make love slowly, deeply, tenderly. She let out a long breath, gently blowing gray-brown strands of hair from the side of his face. She would let him discover every inch of her, all night."
Submission from supercoolkitty.
#23. Just imagine sitting by a fire with the dwarves one night and falling asleep in Thorin’s lap.