#thorin oakenshield x y/n smur | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesecretwriter · 1 year

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my king, my love - thorin oakenshield

pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x female reader

warnings: angst – a fight with thorin, fluff – sweet moments from thorin & smut – in a library, minors dni.

summary: in which y/n and thorin are courting each other, and though they live in the same kingdom, they have never felt more apart.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: as promised, here is the thorin oakenshield fic. I will forever be a thorin Oakenshield loving girl.

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists

“All I’m asking for is some time with you. I barely see you anymore,” you express sadly.

Thorin is aware of his absence from your side, and while he wishes he could spend every waking moment with you, the kingdom requires his attention too.

“The kingdom is thriving under you rule. Since the war of the five armies you have not rested,” you say frustrated.

“Amrâlimê… please,” he pleads with you to understand.

You have been nothing but understanding to Thorin. He needed to put himself first.

“King Thorin, you’re needed for a discussion regarding the trade,” one of the kingdoms advisers said interrupting you and Thorin.

You look away in defeat, you knew he would go to the discussion regardless.

He stepped toward you, but you retreated.

“You should go,”

He can hear the defeat behind your words.

With one last look to you, he followed the dwarf.

“I thought after the war things would be better,” you tell Bofur as you help him in the kitchen.

“His just doing what he believes is right,” Bofur tries to reason.

“Hasn’t he been doing that since the beginning?” you ask sadly.

Bofur smiles at you sadly.

“I think we should bake a cake,” Bofur suggested, he was trying to make you feel better and knew your love of sweet treats.

“That’s a good idea,” you smiled at him and began to take out what you needed for baking.

“Just a little taste,” Thorin heard Kili’s voice echoed through the halls.

“You better not, I will wack you with this spoon,” he heard you threaten.

Growing curious at the commotion, he followed the source of the noise and came to the sight of you trying to pry Kili away from your mixing bowl.

“Hello uncle,” Kili greeted.

You grew tense at his words and took that as your chance to continue mixing.

“What’s happening here?” his question was directed at you, but Kili answered.

“Our dearest y/n here is baking. She refuses for me to have a taste of the batter,” Kili complains.

“You better stop worrying her before she really does wack you laddie,” Bofur chuckles as Kili swipes his finger into the batter.

You gasp and hit him upside the head.

“Ow,” he rubs his head but enjoys eating the batter.

Your eyes finally meet Thorin’s eyes which hold longing in them.

“Your majesty,” you greet him by bowing your head.

Everyone in the kitchen freezes.

Not once have you ever addressed Thorin as that, he always made it known that you were his equal.

“Everyone out now,”

Everyone exits immediately. Just as you’re about to do the same, Thorin’s grip on your arm stops you.

“Not you amrâlimê,”

When he knows the other dwarves are out of ear shot, he turns you towards him and settles his hands on your waist, pulling you to him.

“You know I see you as my equal,” he murmured and moved a few stray strands away from your face.

“I’m addressing you as what you are, our king,” you say with no emotion.

“Please don’t say it like that,” he says sadly.

“Like what?” you say sharply.

“Like that is all I am to you,” he shouts.

“Isn’t that what you are?” you ask stubbornly.

He signs tiredly.

“To everyone else, yes, but to you I am Thorin,” he leaned in and settled his forehead to yours.

You don’t say anything else to him. He finds comfort in the silence and having you close to him.

“I miss you,” you whisper.

“I’m right here,” he insists pulling away.

“Yes, but you’re not here,” you take his hand and settled it on your heart.

His own heart skips a beat.

“What are you saying?” he asked scared of what you might answer.

“It feels as though I am not bound to you, as though you’re not my other half,” your words break with a sob.

Only then did he realise that you were crying.

“I am and always will be yours,” he assures you.

You can’t take the overwhelming of emotions you are feeling, so you step away from Thorin for some space.

“My heart has belonged to you since the beginning,” he says further.

“No Thorin. Your heart belongs to the kingdom, and maybe I’m being selfish in saying this, but I have not felt your love as of late,”

Thorin is rendered speechless by your words.

You knew your words hurt him, but this all you’ve been feeling lately and Thorin needed to know if before it escalated to mahal knows that.

“I need to go. Excuse me,” you say wiping your tear and walking out of the kitchen.

Thorin stood there and knew what he needed to do.

It had been 3 days since you had been avoiding Thorin. You exited any room he stepped foot in and even used others as an excuse to avoid interacting with him.

“I never knew the kingdom had a library,” you say to Balin as he guided you through the old hallways.

“The library has not been used since the time Thorin’s grandfathers ruled,” the door to the library had an emblem of ancient Dwarfish words.

“I’ll let you explore it las,” Balin said respectfully bowing his head.

You thanked him as your ran your hand over the door.

Just by the sight of it, you knew it was made by non-other than the dwarves themselves. You had seen Thorin make many objects with the skills he attained.

You unconsciously reach for the courting bead occupying a braid in your hair. The very same one that Thorin made just for you.

With a sigh, you push the doors of the library open. It was dimly lit inside, but not enough for you to not be able to see.

The smell of vanilla surrounded you, the scent being your favourite.

You walk into the library and take in the sight of the shelves occupied with books that tell the many tales and history of dwarves, elves, men, and creatures alike.

As you linger along the bookshelves, the sound of shuffling captures your attention. You reached for the satchel around your waist and grab your dagger.

“Who is there?” you ask cautiously making your way toward the noise.

You hear the noise again. “Show yourself,” you demand.

Coming out with his hands raised in surrender is Thorin.

He is dressed in clothing he once wore in the blue mountain, not the royal attire that you found him in as of late.

You put your dagger away.

“Why didn’t you say it was you?” you ask annoyed.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want to be in my company,” he answers.

You gawk at him.

Is he serious?

That is the opposite of what you wanted.

“That is the last thing I would do,” you say and walk toward him.

You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, in fact you had only been avoiding him to gain a clear thought process from the events of the days before.

He smiles in appreciation when you stand in front of him.

“What do you think of my attire?” he asked with a raise of a brow.

“Very handsome,” you reply in the same tone as his.

“I thought you would be busy,” you say to him curiously.

“It was about time Fili got some guidance in ruling the kingdom,” he casually states as he held his arm for you to take.

You loop in your arm in his and look to him questionably.

“I take it was no coincidence that Balin showed me the library then?” you ask.

“No. I asked him to bring you here. I know you find solace amongst books,” he answered and led you further into the library.

You walk past bookshelves and come in sight of a couch fitted for two, beside it a table with a candle and a few books.

“I thought it would be fitting for me to show you some of my favourite books,”

He motions toward the couch for you to sit, he takes a book from the table before joining you.

You watched him in awe as he flips through the pages.

He can feel your eyes on him but does his best to avoid making eye contact with you.

“This a story my mother would read me when I was little. Its about two dwarves who were in love but couldn’t be together due to their families’ differences,” he tells you.

You look down to the book and see that it has illustrations of the story. You run your fingers up and down the page, Thorin intwines his fingers with yours.

“Amrâlimê. Since the day my mother first read me this story, I made a promise to forever love the dwarf I would one day come to love,” he said finally meeting your eyes.

“Thorin-“ you’re cut off by Thorin.

“No. I need to say this,” he insists.

“I haven’t been true to my promise, and in the few days without you, it made me realise how easily I could lose my love,”

You shake your head at his words.

“Thorin, no matter the distance between us, I could never stop loving you. All I wanted was for you to take care of yourself,” you explain.

“I understand, but that does not take away from the fact that I have indeed been neglectful to you,” he leans forward, and you feel the tip of his nose touch yours.

You stare into his eyes, and they speak more words than you could ever verbally express.

He connects his lips to yours and pulls you impossibly closer to you.

You moan into the kiss when he makes you straddle him.

“‘miss you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“‘m right here,” you reply.

You pour all your emotions into the kiss, making sure Thorin is aware of just how much he means to you.

He hands roam your clothed body. When he goes to trail kisses down your neck, you come to your senses.

“Thorin, what if someone walks in,”

“They don’t know we’re here,” he states and goes to undo the lace at the back of your dress.

You could feel him harden beneath you.

“Been to long,” his words were becoming slurred on lust and love.

He easily undid the top of your dress and took time appreciating your breasts. You moan at the feeling of him teasing you.

He looks up at you in awe, never had he been so in love.

“I love you,” he says as he pulls back to look at you more.

“And I you,” you state.

He wraps an arm around your waist and moves so that he is above you and you lay beneath him. Your legs are secure around his waist.

“You’re addicting amrâlimê,” he lays kisses as he rids you of your skirt.

He takes the time to admire your beauty. Your chest rises from arousal and your lips are parted, craving to has his lips on yours.

He does quick work of taking off his own shirt and pants, the be as bare as you are.

“My love,” you announce as you reach for him. He smirks at your words and feels his pride rise.

You feel his cock brushing against your thigh and reach between the two of you to take hold of it, he hisses in reaction.

“Y/n,” he warns.

You rub the tip of his cock to your wet folds, coating his cock and make him moan in pleasure.

“Need to feel you,” he groans.

You align his cock with your entrance and move your hips forward, indicating for him to move as well. Thorin does not waste a moment. He puts all his body weight on you and fills you to the brim.

He swears in khuzdul under his breath, but does not hesitate to rock his hip forward, not leaving space between the two of you.

You are all but moaning in his ear and letting his know just how good he is making you feel.

“Thorin,” you plead.

“I know amrâlimê. I know,” he acknowledges your pouted lips and knitted brows.

He buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, feeling himself becoming intoxicated by you.

He knows you are close when he feels your nails scratching down his back.

“Yes amrâlimê, mark me as yours,” he encourages.

His words tip you over the edge, and your tightness makes him meet his moment. He kisses you through his orgasm and moans into your mouth.

All that can be heard in the quiet library is the sound of both of your laboured breathing.

“I want to marry you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Isn’t that the purpose of courting?” you ask with a chuckle.

He takes his cloak to cover the both of you as you cuddle on the couch. You cuddle into his check as his arms hold you close to him.

“I want there to be a wedding, soon,” he explains.

You peer at him in disbelief.

“You mean…”

“Yes, I mean that we should begin planning our wedding right away,” he chuckles at your expression.

“You mean it?” you ask.

“With every beat of my heart. I want to make you my queen.” He admits.

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