This year I had the pleasure of being part of this amazing event, THAUC 2024! And now it's time for reveals!
The wonderful creators of Thauc proposed us three different prompts but my partner @luthiendraws and I were really interested in one theme in particular:
Bilbo's deeds on the quest have garnered him attention from eligible sutures and Thorin is trying to handle his jealousy with grace.
While I worked on the first part of the lineart, the amazing @luthiendraws made the other, then we switched for the colouring phase!
I had so much fun in the making of this comic, having the chance to exchange ideas and create something together was a blast. I loved every step of the journey ;-)
Who Makes You Feel This Good? - Thorin Oakenshield *
Requested by: @donniethescienceguy
Hey! My friend recommended your writing! Could I get a jealous Thorin x wife!reader smut?? Maybe where the company stop in Rivendell and the elves (seem to be) flirt with reader?
I changed it quite a bit, purely because I couldn’t think of a good enough way to write what you requested. It’s still a jealous!Thorin x wife!reader smut, it’s just lacking some Rivendell and elves. I can always give this another go in the future (which I will most likely do) if you really wanna see how that would play out. But, either way, I’m sorry I changed so much of it.
(BRUH LOOK AT HIM!!!)
Warnings: SMUT. Language. Jealous!Thorin. Possessive!Thorin. Fluff. I mean, there ain’t much else to it, I guess. (You should at least be at legal consenting age to read)
Dwarves are a prideful bunch, anybody could see that, so when someone comes along and tries to worm their way in between them and what’s theirs, it’s bound to be an unpleasant sight. Although they will not admit it, the green-eyed monster will rear its head every so often, no matter the dwarf.
There certainly isn’t an exception when it comes to your husband. The tough and brooding bastard certainly can and will turn the dramatics up a notch or two. You’d think, if he wasn’t a king, he would jest and entertain gathering families on summer evenings with bellies full of mead with his theatrics. He’d most definitely obtain the starring role in a play.
The mere thought of your Ones’ antics is enough to make you giggle, which you probably shouldn’t have, seeing as you were sat beside your husband in the throne room as guests come and go with pleasantries before you in the large and spacious ballroom. For a race with little height, they sure do build their ceilings high up.
The giggle had caused the two who stood before you and Thorin to glance at you with the strangest of expressions while your husband simply gave you a small glare. You sheepishly smiled at him before recomposing yourself and facing the couple who still wore that silly expression. “My apologies. It appears my tolerance for stronger beverages has left me high and dry.”
All they could do was way off your comment and chuckle, which of course, sounded quite condescending all the while your husband flashed you an amused smirk and you knew, you just knew, that the word ‘liar’ flashed through his head at the unbelievably pathetic yet very amusing fib you had told.
They were quick to depart from you both, leaving you and your husband to sit beside each other in a welcomed silence. Obviously, the festivities surround you continued, but you paid them no mind, content with being perched beside your One. As you and Thorin enjoy the miniature break from all the guests flocking over to the pair of you, a young man approaches you both, an overly confident smirk etched into his face. “King Thorin, a pleasure to be within your kingdom.” He gave a bow towards the dwarf who was hiding his scowl but, as he spoke and presented himself in such a way, his eyes locked on to you.
Thorin gave a curt nod as he watched the man from his throne, not that he would have noticed with his gaze still burning into you. He approached the two of you, clearly intending on reaching you and you alone. The movement caused Thorin to tense up beside you, his whole body becoming frigid and still. The man picked up your hand, engulfing it within his own and raised it towards his lips where he placed a lingering kiss upon the back of your hand, causing you to flush and avoid eye contact.
Although to interaction wasn’t the most comfortable for you, you were a queen now, you were expected to act like one rather than act out irrationally like what you were known to do before settling down with the king. If it were up to you, you would have knocked the lad back on to his jacksie with a swift right hook, but alas, a queen must act the bigger, more dignified person.
You believe you’re only this flustered from not knowing how to act other than straight up violence, but of course, Thorin doesn’t know this. He seethes in anger internally as how your cheeks tint red and it only further intensifies when a (not so obvious nervous) giggle passes your lips that follows the compliment the man uttered to you.
Thorin clenches and unclenches his fist, an attempt at keeping his anger *cough* jealousy *cough* under wraps, not wanting to create a scene. He has a reputation to uphold, being the crowned ruler under the Lonely Mountain and all.
Both yours and the mans attention snap towards the dwarf when he clears his throat, eyes burning holes straight into the man who has a subtle malicious smirk across his face. “I must talk to my queen privately, if you’ll excuse us.” Before the man could even comprehend that he had just been spoken to, Thorin stood, bringing you up to stand with him before briskly setting off through the large hall towards the large double doors at the entrance, arm possessively wrapped around your waist.
The display of jealousy provided much amusement to those few friends you and Thorin shared, knowing glances shared between comrades and deep chuckles between brothers. “I believe we shouldn’t expect them to return anytime soon, wouldn’t you agree, brother?”
“Aye, we probably won’t see ‘em ‘til tomorrow afternoon.” Balin and Dwalin laughed heartly together and their tankards filled with mead clank together, the liquid swishing violently and flowing over the rim and splashing on to the floor in front of their feet.
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Thorin had dragged you all the way back towards your shared quarters, something you hadn’t quite expected. You thought that maybe, the dwarf would take you a small distance away from the party and along the corridor, but as he continued to escort you further and further away, in the direction of your shared quarters no less, you realised his destination and intentions once you step foot inside.
All you had to really do was look towards your husband, the way his bearded jaw clenched, his eyes full of fire trained on its path before them, the intimidating aura surrounding you both, you knew, you knew he was jealous, you knew his jealousy was burning deep and clouding his mind.
Just the images you conjured up on your short journey brought a heated red across your face and a wetness between your legs. Walking had become a near impossible task from desperately trying not to press your legs together.
As soon as you and Thorin passed the threshold of your royal quarters, he slammed the hefty, weighted door and spun you, pressing your back harshly against it. His face mere centimetres away from your own, his hot breath hitting your rosy cheek.
“You think it’s acceptable to enjoy another man ogling you? To stare at you and want you what is mine?” He all but rasped the rhetorical question in a deep, low, seductive tone, his knee slowly forcing its way between your legs and press roughly against your clothed sex.
You inaudibly gulped as you kept your eyes focused straight ahead, staring directly at his covered, broad chest. You knew he wanted an answer but with how intimidated he had made you feel, no matter the pool of wetness gathering between your folds that states you like this side of him, you couldn’t find your voice.
Your breath hitched as he brought one hand to grab hold of your delicate chin between his thumb and pointer finger and applying more pressure to your soaked cunt with his leg. Your gaze snapped up to meet his own, his orbs shrouded in lust, passion, and jealousy. “Answer me.” He growled out.
The meek, timid shake of your head caused him to tut as he brought his mouth next to your ear. His breath fanned over the shell of your ear and you noticeably shivered as he commanded you to use your words. “N-no.” It came out as a breathless whisper as you ever so slightly rocked your hips back and forth in a desperate attempt to have friction applied to your clit.
He chuckled at your poor attempt and pressed his body against yours, stilling your movements. “Well, it certainly appears you did, amrâlimê. That isn’t acceptable of a queen.” You let out a squeak as he muscular arms threw you over his shoulder and another passing your lips mixed with a moan as his hand connects harshly with your behind, the thin material of your elegant dress doing little to cushion his vicious assault.
As soon as he was close enough to do so, he threw you on to the lavish bed, your body bouncing once, twice, three times upon landing. Thorin unclasped his royal fur, allowing it to fall from its place upon his shoulders to the floor behind his boot clad feet. He was quick to open up the front of his trousers and expose his hardened, thick length.
He wrapped his large hand around his shaft, eyeing you hungrily. “Strip. Now.” The authoritative tone he had taken with you all but added to your arousal. You sat yourself up on the mattress before slowly lowering the straps of your dress down your shoulders. You pushed it ever so slowly until the top half was all but bunched together at your waist, your upper body completely exposed.
You laid back down before lifting your hips and pushing the dress down past your hips and along your luscious, smooth legs, kicking the dress off of your feet until you laid bare in front of your husband, who watched whilst he pumped his cock, tip red and leaking pre cum.
“Open your legs, my queen.” He tapped your knee gently as he spoke. Without hesitation, you did as he asked, parting them, and exposing your aroused sex to the dwarf stood before you. Thorin momentarily paused his self-pleasure to rid himself of his upper body clothing and boots, leaving him in nothing but his trousers.
He dropped to his knees, eye level with your dripping core before grasping at your calves and pulling you towards the edge of the bed, bringing you closer to his face. He blew cold air at your sensitive folds, eliciting a small gasp from you. He chuckled. “Tell me, who is this all for?”
“Y-you, my king.” Your reply was shaky, your tone needy, your want for him clearly evident within your whole demeanour.
He chuckled deeply. “Is that so?” With that, he languidly dragged one of his thick digits across your glistening sex as he smirked, collecting your sweet juices on his finger before applying pressure to your nub.
Your back arched off of the mattress below you as an airy, higher pitched moan escaped your mouth. You rutted your hips searching for more whilst you took your plump, bottom lip between your pearly whites trying to contain your moans.
Just as soon as the friction you had searched for was found, it was taken away when Thorin remove his finger from your clit. You huffed, annoyed at your husband and his blatant teasing which caused Thorin to chuckle once more. “I think it’s time I remind you who you truly belong to, amrâlimê.”
Thorin quickly filled you with his hardened cock, thrusting into you just as his sentence finished. You hadn’t even noticed him remove his remaining clothes, nor had you notice him stand once again, but you couldn’t question him when all you felt was an overpowering pleasurable sensation as he filled you up with his cock, thrusting into you at an animalistic pace.
He leant over and attached his lips hastily on to your neck, biting and sucking harshly all along the exposed flesh. You squirmed and mewled at his bruising attack, moaning obscenities and his name like a mantra as your dug your nails in to his shoulders, arms, back, anything you could get a hold of.
His continued further down, latching his mouth to your breasts, bouncing from his vicious pounding. The walls of your pussy clenched around his throbbing manhood as he took one of your hard, perked nipples into hit mouth, biting gently at the nub.
After giving equal treatment to the other tit and nipple, his mouth trailed itself back up along your bruising flesh towards your mouth to capture it in a searing kiss, all while he continued to pound into your relentlessly.
You broke apart for air, opening your eyes to see your husband staring down at you, eyes wide and clouded with a sinful lust he only has for you, his queen who is coming undone laid beneath him. His forehead covered in sweat, hair sticking to the sides of his own neck as his chapped, parted lips desperately inhale oxygen.
“Tell me, my queen, who makes you feel this good?”
“You. Only you.”
He smirked down at you as he fastened his pace, hiking your one leg up his hip and around his waist, hitting deeper and now repeatedly hitting that special spot that drives you to the brink of insanity. Your moans grow louder and louder each second the familiar hot, tight feeling builds within your lower tummy, your climax nearing each snapping thrust.
Thorin groans as your walls tighten around his cock, telling him you’re close to release, just as he is nearing his own. His thrusts begin to become uneven, his movements faltering every so often as he leans down next to your ear once more. “Let go, amrâlimê. Scream out your king’s name. Let them know who has made you feel so good.”
You did as you were told, moaning out his name as the tightened coil snapped, back arching, clawing desperately at his back as you came, his own climax consuming him moments after, stilling inside of you, his cock pulsating as his cum spurts into your cunt, filling you up.
Both of you could only breath heavily as your hearts pounded against your ribcage, willing itself to even out. Thorin leant his sweat coated forehead against your own as your hot breaths mixed, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, not only filled with the upmost adoration for one another.
“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield, my king.” A breathless whisper is all you could muster, but you knew he had heard you. A lazy smile crossed his face as he continued to stare down at you with hooded eyes and reply just as breathless as his glowing wife below him.
“I love you, my queen. More than you could ever know.”
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I’m sorry this took me forever to get out
This was requested at the beginning of January and it’s now mid February
I’ve had so much college work to get done, along with loads of other requests that I just couldn’t get around to this sooner and I’m so sorry for that
Please don’t hate me, this assignment can get me 2 Distinctions (which is the highest mark) so I’ve been knuckling down
Either way, I hope you enjoy this none the less
As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and are greatly appreciated :D
Bilbo knew Thorin was madly in love with Thranduil, he had been ever since they had been in kindergarten. But, Thorin was too proud, too foolish and too much of an idiot to ever do something about it. And well, Thranduil was a clueless idiot so this was also an important factor
However, Bilbo knew Thorin would never back down from a challenge and he had been jealous enough during the night to just do something about Bilbo-s open flirting with Thranduil. Bilbo smirked bowing to Thranduil while winking at him, the mic on Bilbo-s hand moved expertly as Bilbo started singing dedicating the words of the song to the blond/haired male who, even with his arrogant smirk, was blushing slightly.
Bilbo knew his plan had been a success when he saw Thorin breaking the glass on his hand and shooting daggers at them just before standing up and making the way to the stage.
Im too lazy to screencap this, but one of my absolute squealingly favorite bagginshield moments is in DoS when Bilbo says that he asked Bard his name and instantly Thorin jealously moves from next to Dwalin closer to Bilbo. Like, omfg relax, guy.
AAHHH THORIN NO, YOU JEALOUS PINING BABY. he’s literally so jealous that bilbo asked bard his name and actually spOKE to bard because WHAT IS SPEAKING, HOW DOES ONE??? oh thorin my son
Fic Request for more Jealous!Thorin,
incorporating themes from these imaginexhobbit imagines: (1) + (2) + (3)
"Imagine Thorin being jealous when he sees Bard kissing your hand" +
"Imagine Thorin Sincerely Apologizing After Seriously Scarring You With Harsh Comments"+
"Imagine Thorin and Bard Fighting Over You"
****
As much as you had trained and mentally prepared for the adventures of this journey, some things still took you by surprise.
Like that Bard fellow.
There he was one minute, about to loose an arrow at poor Ori, and the next, he was smuggling the company into Lake-town and doling out dry clothes.
Once you were nice, clean and dry, he even kissed your hand as he welcomed you into the parlor. You could have sworn you heard Thorin growl and spit when Bard’s lips met your skin, but you weren’t sure.
As you sat warming up by the fire in his modest home, enjoying the light and friendly chatter of his youngest daughter Tilda, you caught him slipping glances at you and smiling.
And though you weren’t interested in him romantically, you had to admit, the attention was rather nice.
“What do you keep looking at?”
That was your sword fighting master — your guchirel — and the company’s leader, Thorin, who was standing behind you, hovering.
You bent your neck back awkwardly, your still-damp hair sweeping the floor, and gave Thorin a big, nutty smile, knowing this would tickle Tilda.
He did not smile back.
Your strange, twisted position looked completely goofy and was quite uncomfortable, but it was so delightful to hear the innocent laughter of childhood that you couldn’t stop just yet. You bent back even more, crossed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, playing the clown.
Tilda’s sweet little chirps got the attention of Bard, who walked across the room and crouched down next to his daughter and chuckled at your antics with her.
Thorin just stood there, unamused.
“She’s so silly!” Tilda said to her father. Then she reached up to his ear and whispered something.
Hearing the word ‘pretty” you jolted back upright and met Bard’s dark eyes. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. He looked like he wanted to eat you with a spoon.
Thorin stomped his foot, shaking the floor and breaking Bard’s ‘come hither’ expression. He walked over to a window.
You grinned politely at Bard and quickly touched the tip of Tilda’s nose with your finger, making her laugh again, before getting up and joining Thorin.
“Sorry about that,” you said. “What did you ask me?”
“Go back over there and entertain him,” he said.
Thorin either forgot Tilda was doing most of the laughing or he was trying to make a point.
“Entertain?” You could feel sass coming on, but tried to keep it at bay. “I was just having a bit of fun, guchirel.”
“So was he. And I’m ‘so very, very’ sure he’d like to have more fun with you.”
Yep, he was definitely making a point.
It was impossible to talk to him when he was sulking like this. He acted the same way in Rivendell just before you sparred with Elrond. Kili said it was jealousy, and you were flattered to think so. But you knew the chances of that were slim. You were just a “bayuralinh” — his student, an apprentice. He felt protective of you, that was all.
You lowered your voice to a whisper and stepped closer to him, so Bard and his children wouldn’t hear. “Would you like to go over our plans again?”
“Not now.”
“Well, can I get you something to warm you up?”
“No.”
You couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Have I done something wrong?” you whispered sharply, angry that your voice was shaking.
“Yes. As usual, you are being a nuisance, and asking far too many questions of a person who does not wish to speak to you. Leave my sight.”
His words ripped through your soul. A nuisance? As USUAL? You thought he regarded you with more respect than that.
Stung by his harsh tone, you turned away and headed for outside, but Bard strolled up before you were at the door and blocked you from taking another step. “Not a good idea,” he said.
“I just want to get some fresh air, right there on the landing,” you said, then wrinkled your nose and feigned disgust. “I still stink of fish.”
“Everything here stinks of fish.” He kept his eyes on you until you focused on him. “Except you.”
Thorin suddenly appeared next to Bard.
"Let her pass." Thorin shot the words straight up to Bard, not bothered in the least by his height or that he was giving the man an order in his own home.
Bard looked at Thorin like he was 100 percent cuckoo for talking to him that way.
"Pardon me, Master Dwarf?" Bard said. "She has free will. You act like you own her."
"No, I do not own her. But I will own you if you don’t let her pass.”
You felt the eyes of the other members of the company on the uncomfortable scene.
At that second, Tilda ran up to her father and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him away from the angry Dwarf before things got crazy.
The heat rising in your cheeks, you pushed the door open in a hurry and stood on the landing, overlooking the now-empty docks below. The nosy people who had been hanging around before were gone, and you felt yourself calming down a little.
In the next instant, Thorin was standing outside with you, next to you. You clenched your jaw and gripped the railing, determined not to speak, wondering why he was even out there.
“We need to discuss the weapons,” he finally said after several minutes of staring at the water and birds flying by. “Let’s go.”
You stayed put and shook your head.
“Why are you not talking?” As soon as he asked the question, he remembered how curt and rude he’d been.
And then something happened that you never thought would happen.
He placed his hand on yours.
You looked down, feeling a quiver in your belly as he began to let his every move do the talking.
He rubbed the top of your hand — first with his expansive, rough palm, slowly and gingerly, then continued the motion with his fingers.
You’d picked up on Thorin’s every nuance well before this journey began, and you could interpret what his moves along your fingers were telling you.
I am so sorry for the way I spoke to you.
He made circles near your wrist.
You are not, nor have you ever been, a nuisance. You are my rock.
His thumb moved between each knuckle, then traced the length of every soft finger.
Bard freely said the things that I keep locked in my mind.
He traced your delicate bones and the plump veins pushing from underneath your skin.
I understand why he looks at you the way he does.
Both of you were breathing heavily, the vapor from your mouths drifting into the air.
I need you, bahyuralinh.
He removed his hand from yours and placed it on the back of your neck, and drowned in your eyes.
I want you.
His fingers stroked your hair at the nape of your neck. I want you, right now…
And then you were on his mouth, attacking his lips and tongue with a ravenous fervor that left you both gasping for breath.
I love you.
As soon as you took in enough air, you were on each other again, mouths moving from face to neck to shoulders, through clothes and hair, finally seeing, after all these months, that your feelings were mutual, and desperate to make up for lost time.
His hands pressed against your back, then slipped under your borrowed blouse and snaked their way beneath your undergarments.
Your fingers tugged at the unfamiliar clothes, then traveled back up to his long mane. You couldn’t touch him fast enough, couldn’t get to every inch quick enough.
Someone called for Thorin, and then for you, breaking up the rendezvous. As if cold water had been splashed on you, suddenly the foolishness of your display became glaringly apparent.
You both straightened out your rumpled clothes and smoothed back your hair. Thorin took the first step toward the door, then faced you again.
“You asked about bringing me something warm,” he said.
