Chapter Text
It had started not long after Bilbo and Thorin’s wedding night. After everything was settled - the mountain, the dragon, the orcs, the men, and the elves - Thorin was quick to confess his long-hidden feelings to his beloved hobbit. Of course, Bilbo had accepted, having developed feelings for the king quickly after the first night they’d met at Bag End. Perhaps it was even love at first sight, though Bilbo would never admit to that embarrassing fact. From there, the courting period was short, the two having no doubts whatsoever and wanting quickly to just be married already. The rest of the company of course had been nothing but supportive, happy to see their burglar and king finally stop skirting around each other, which they had had to endure all throughout their long journey to Erebor.
The wedding was a joyous affair, full of singing, dancing, and delicious food. Thorin had dressed Bilbo in the finest silks and velvets and draped him with intricate golden jewelry and sparkling gems (though the simple flower crown made of roses and daisies was Bilbo’s idea and Thorin adored the way it sat beautifully on Bilbo’s golden brown hair). By then, many of the exiled dwarves had returned to Erebor and happily participated in the extravagant celebration of their king’s marriage to the famed hero and burglar.
And the night of the wedding, oh how could Bilbo forget it? He had been nervous at first to fully display himself for his new husband, not knowing how Thorin would react to the extreme differences in hobbit anatomy. But Thorin didn’t seem to care; that dwarf would have loved Bilbo even if he was an elf (but thank Mahal he wasn’t!). Indeed, that night wore on very long, until their ministrations wrapped up as the sun rose above the horizon and the birds began to sing to signal the coming of dawn. Bilbo ached for the rest of the day.
Now, the two were happily married, with Bilbo becoming an incredibly loved consort by the dwarves of Erebor and a valuable asset to the kingdom, being involved in many of the trade agreements with neighboring kingdoms who respected his bravery and kindness greatly. Erebor’s reconstruction was underway and each day the mountain regained a bit of its long forgotten strength and beauty.
But now, Bilbo noticed something strange happening within their prospering mountain - the dwarves were starting to treat him differently. Since moving permanently to Erebor, Bilbo had been treated with nothing but respect, almost reverence, by the dwarves who saw him as some warrior or hero. When he walked through the mountain’s halls they would stare at him in admiration and awe. Nowadays, however, he saw a different kind of emotion in their gazes, one that he couldn’t quite put a name to. And it wasn’t just those dwarves, it was even the dwarves in his company! Since their adventure together, Bilbo had never felt unease around his friends, but with the sudden strange looks in their eyes, that was starting to change.
Then came the touching. At first it was nothing serious, Bilbo was already used to how touchy dwarves could be. Perhaps a light brush of the arms or a firm hand on his shoulder or a warm hug. Those he could handle. It was the more intimate touches that made him thrum strangely. There was one instance where Oin had placed a firm, warm hand on Bilbo’s waist, effectively pulling the smaller body against his sturdy side. Bilbo would have thought nothing of it, if it wasn’t for the eager smile and intense look the dwarf had shot him when Bilbo looked up at him in surprise. That action made his gut flutter with nerves slightly, but it was nothing compared to the following interactions with the other dwarves.
One cold winter night, Bofur and Bifur had eagerly cornered Bilbo as he was making his way back to his and Thorin’s room. Bifur had said something in Khuzdul, his low, gravelly voice sounding strangely seductive to Bilbo’s twitching ears. When Bilbo turned to Bofur for a translation, the toy-maker gave him a wolfish grin, wider than his usual friendly ones, and told him that the older dwarf had asked him to join them in the communal baths. Bilbo had flushed a bright red then, before blurting out a stuttering excuse and quickly ran away.
Then, one morning, Bilbo had been sleepily stumbling into the dining room when Nori had come up right behind him and planted a firm slap to his left arse cheek with a loud greeting of “Mornin’, burglar!” (though that greeting was nearly drowned out by the slap sound and Bilbo’s surprised yelp). The action had caused Bilbo to wake right up, squawking at the thief, scandalized. Nori and the other dwarves merely laughed at his reaction, causing Bilbo to stare at them with wide, betrayed eyes.
The last straw, though, was the night of that very same day. Bilbo and his company of dwarves had all gathered together for a great dinner, full of delicious meats and tall mugs of beer. The room was filled with their merriment as they laughed and sang joyfully. Bilbo would admit that back home in the shire he was quite a respectable hobbit, who rarely partook in drinking and if he did it would be light spirits or wines paired with his meals. Dwarven drinking culture was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Each dwarf seemed to guzzle down barrels of beer like it was water and they had been roaming barren deserts for years without any nourishment. Naturally, Bilbo had been sucked into their game and although he drank significantly less than his dwarves, his smaller body could take only so many giant mugs of beer before his head began to spin.
He’d long given up on the beers in an attempt to sober up and simply sat quietly between Thorin and Dwalin as the rest of the dwarves continued their party. Bilbo had been listening intently to a raunchy story told by Bofur when a large, warm hand came to rest on one of his thighs. The touch was welcome and Bilbo instinctively brought his own hand to rest on top of the large dwarven one. However when he looked to his side to smile happily at Thorin, he realized that the strong hand gripping tightly on his thigh did not belong to his husband at all, instead it belonged to his husband’s best friend and fearsome head of the royal guard, Dwalin. He gaped at the larger dwarf, who smirked at him in response. Bilbo then noticed that same strange look in his eyes that the other dwarves seemed to look at him with. It was only then that he realized what the emotion hidden behind that look was - hunger.
Bilbo pulled his hand back from where it laid atop Dwalin’s. That didn’t stop the dwarf however, whose large hand hiked higher up Bilbo’s thigh. That night, Bilbo had worn nothing but his robe in preparation for sleeping right after the dinner, and foolishly, that meant he wore no underwear either (a decision he came to greatly regret later). And so, Dwalin’s hand easily slipped under the robe to grip onto bare flesh. It stayed there for a while as Bilbo’s heart hammered in his chest and his head spun from the alcohol. Then, after an agonizing long while, Dwalin’s hand shifted again, this time to his inner thigh. Bilbo’s instinct was to clamp his legs together or push the warrior’s arm away, but perhaps due to his inebriation and embarrassingly growing arousal, he instead slowly spread his legs, inviting Dwalin to further his explorations. It was only after doing this though that a cold fear shot through Bilbo’s stomach. If Dwalin’s hand creeped up any further, he would learn something very surprising about hobbit anatomy, a secret that he’d only allowed Thorin to learn.
But it was too late now, Dwalin’s hand was already rubbing at his pussy. Dwalin’s hand seemed to still, surprise overtaking his features when he felt a distinct lack of balls or cock like he had been expecting. He glanced down at the red-faced hobbit questioningly. Bilbo expected then for the dwarf to pull away, perhaps even scoff at him in disgust, but instead Dwalin smirked and his hand continued its rubbing motion, making Bilbo shudder and bite his lip to stop any pleasured sounds from escaping.
Bofur had told a particularly funny joke, to which all the dwarves around him, including Dwalin who acted like nothing was happening, laughed loudly at. Bilbo was the only member of the company to not join in, instead too focused on the thick, rough fingers now spreading his increasingly wet folds apart. Dwalin’s thumb came to tease at his clit, shooting sparks of pleasure into his gut. Then, without warning, his middle finger pushed deep into Bilbo’s tight heat. Bilbo choked back a groan as the digit began to rub at his inner walls, causing his pussy to drool embarrassingly. At this, Dwalin pulled his finger out, rubbing the excess wetness up and down Bilbo’s folds and then pushed back in, the slide now easier thanks to the increased slick.
Bilbo was panting heavily now, hunching forward to hide the blush on his cheeks. Noticing his husband’s strange behavior, Thorin glanced worriedly down at him. Feeling Thorin’s hot gaze on him, Bilbo looked up at him in fear. He expected his husband to grow angry at the sight of his best friend, knuckle-deep inside his husband, but instead Thorin let out a chuckle. He then shot a smirk at Dwalin from over Bilbo’s head, and the two seemed to share a moment as they grinned wolfishly at each other. Bilbo couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
A quiet, keening whimper escaped Bilbo’s lips as a second finger entered him. Now Thorin’s hand came to grip Bilbo’s other thigh, stroking it soothingly as Dwalin worked deeper and deeper. His drunkenness and arousal caused all inhibitions to leave his little body, and he couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips in tandem with Dwalin’s fingering. Thankfully, the rest of the company were too distracted to notice their hobbit’s pleasure and Bilbo could feel himself hurtling towards an orgasm.
When a third finger slipped into Bilbo’s gaping cunt, Bilbo could do nothing to stop the loud, high-pitched moan that escaped him. His lust-clouded, drunken head had barely noticed the sound he’d made until all laughter in the room came to a screeching halt.
“Bilbo, dear, are you alright?” Dori asked quietly, genuine worry on his face.
It felt as if ice-cold water had been dumped over the hobbit’s head. Dwalin pulled his fingers out, leaving him empty and clenching at nothing. He could hardly catch his breath and he realized then the picture of debauchery he must have looked like in front of everyone. His robe had begun to loosen, slipping off his shoulders to show off freckled skin and tantalizing collarbone. His face was flushed red and his breath came out in rapid gasps. His legs were still spread wide apart and the evidence of his arousal was beginning to leak out onto the bench where he sat.
It was Thorin who cleared his throat and answered for him.
“I think my husband has had too much to drink. I’ll be taking him back to our rooms now.”
Some dwarves nodded understandingly, but others shot Thorin knowing looks. The king helped his consort onto his feet, though his legs trembled and his eyesight was blurry from the alcohol.
The pair quickly scurried back to their room, ignoring the wolf whistles coming from the company behind them. Thorin had barely closed their bedroom door when Bilbo all but tackled him, wrapping his legs around the tall dwarf and kissing him hard. Thorin was quick to respond, grabbing hold of Bilbo’s bare thighs to keep him wrapped around his middle. He returned the kiss eagerly, licking into Bilbo’s open mouth with enthusiasm. Bilbo barely noticed how the king was carrying him towards the bed until he was dropped, slightly unceremoniously, onto the cushiony mattress. He’s given a split second to recover before Thorin is on him again, climbing over the small hobbit and nearly squashing him, though that actually turned Bilbo on even more. Bilbo’s arousal continued to leak out of him, spreading onto his thighs and the sheets below. He wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck, pulling the king down to plant a deep, yet chaste kiss to his lips.
“I want you,” Bilbo whispered. His lust-filled brain could get no other words out. Yes, he was confused and slightly peeved at Dwalin’s forwardness and Thorin’s complicity, but that could be a discussion for later. Right now, Bilbo needed something to fill him up again now that Dwalin’s fingers were gone and he didn’t care what or who.
“Of course, darling,” Thorin said in his rumbling, low voice. The soft, loving smile on his face caused butterflies to flutter in Bilbo’s stomach and he momentarily felt embarrassed for acting like such a blushing schoolgirl.
In a split second, Thorin had easily untied the already loose robe Bilbo wore and tossed it on the ground. Then with Bilbo’s help, the king had shed his many layers of fur and velvets so that he was completely bare for his husband to appreciate. No matter how many times they made love, Bilbo could never grow tired of Thorin’s naked body, his mouth running dry every time he saw him bare.
Bilbo embraced Thorin once again to kiss him hungrily. When Thorin’s curious tongue slipped past his lips, Bilbo opened up for him obediently. As Thorin’s hand wrapped around him to grasp at his arse, Bilbo’s hand slipped between them to pump at Thorin’s cock. It stiffened in his hand and the size of it made Bilbo drool with excitement. Thorin’s hand joined Bilbo's, stroking the shaft a few times before he gently swatted Bilbo’s hand away. He then slipped his cock in between Bilbo’s thick, wet thighs. He gripped harder on the hobbit’s arse, pulling him forward so that they were thrusting against each other. The slippery slide was heavenly to Thorin, while Bilbo delighted in the way his member rubbed against his sensitive clit and slick folds.
Thorin was more than happy to continue this way for a little longer, content to take his time, but Bilbo was starting to grow impatient. His little body was trembling with need and he pulled away from Thorin’s mouth to plead.
“Please stop teasing me, Thorin. I need you inside me.”
And who was Thorin to refuse his love? He gently laid the hobbit on his back, the sight of him spread open eagerly for him, almost making Thorin groan with arousal. He grabbed the base of his cock and led it to Bilbo’s gaping cunt. Thorin rubbed the tip against Bilbo’s folds, causing his hobbit to let out a lewd, wanton moan. Being the bossy, slightly bratty hobbit that he was, Bilbo could no longer take his husband’s teasing and wrapped his legs around Thorin’s waist. Then, with his legs, he pulled Thorin in, so that his cock finally slipped into his throbbing cunt. They both let out loud moans at the entrance.
To Thorin’s shock, Bilbo barely waited to get used to his size, already humping and bucking his hips and gasping out moans at the little amount of friction.
“You little minx,” Thorin growled, before grabbing tightly onto Bilbo’s hips and beginning to fuck him with fervour. Bilbo’s moans grew louder and higher as the king’s powerful thrusts jostled him deeper into the mattress. His hands trailed down his body to rub at his own clit. Lost in his own arousal, Bilbo spread his legs wider and wider, allowing Thorin to watch his cock entering and reentering his hobbit, the sight of which was so hot that Thorin thought it was more beautiful than the arkenstone itself.
Thorin wrapped his arms tightly around Bilbo’s waist, pulling him up higher so that the bottoms of Bilbo’s feet were planted flat on the mattress and his arse was nearly hovering in the air. The new angle allowed Thorin to reach even deeper into Bilbo’s warmth and his consort let out a strangled, broken moan. He could barely think about anything other than Thorin’s thick cock pounding into his tight little hole. In fact, he had nearly forgotten everything regarding Dwalin.
Bilbo’s small fingers continued to rub harshly on his clit, then a high, surprised whine escaped his throat. The assault from Thorin coupled with his own stimulation on his clit had caused the hobbit to squirt all over Thorin’s cock and chest. Thorin’s jaw fell open, Bilbo had never done that before. The hobbit himself was shocked too, panting heavily at the sight of Thorin’s pecks glistening with his fluids.
Thorin cursed under his breath before pulling all the way out of Bilbo. Then, the hobbit was on his stomach and his hips were being pulled up so that Thorin could enter him from behind. This was one of the couple’s favourite positions as it allowed Thorin to reach even deeper while Bilbo enjoyed feeling small and helpless under his husband. Bilbo let out a loud, surprised moan at the sudden intrusion, before he began gasping again at Thorin’s continued thrusts.
“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, little one,” Thorin groaned, not stopping in his animalistic thrusting even as he began to nibble on Bilbo’s pointed ear, causing the hobbit to whine.
At each thrust of Thorin’s hips, Bilbo pushed his back to meet him. He spread his legs wide, blushing a deep red at the loud squelching and slapping sounds they were making. Thorin bent down to begin biting and sucking at the back of Bilbo’s neck. When a deep purple mark began blooming on his nape, he moved on to the hobbit’s shoulder. Then his strong arm slipped around his husband and reached down to rub at Bilbo’s oversensitive clit. Bilbo let out a long, drawn out moan and his hips began to stutter uncontrollably, a tell-tale sign of his orgasm. Thorin felt Bilbo’s cunt clench around his cock, forcing a choked groan to escape the king, before Bilbo came. His spend dribbled down Thorin’s cock and onto the bed sheets. Bilbo quickly grew limp with exhaustion, releasing shuddering, gasping breaths which quickly turned into whines when Thorin continued his thrusts once again. The squelching sounds grew even louder with the added wetness and it didn’t take long for Thorin to come too. The king clumsily pulled out at the last second, shooting his spend across the round globes of Bilbo’s arse cheeks. Bilbo gasped at the feeling before moaning happily. Thorin continued to stroke himself through his orgasm and rub Bilbo’ sensitive nub, causing the hobbit to shake from overstimulation.
After finishing, Thorin let out a satisfied sigh and looked at his husband to be greeted to a most lovely sight - Bilbo’s gaping pussy clenching down on nothing and leaking into the bed, cum painting his bottom. By now, the hobbit was barely conscious, and Thorin chuckled at his sleepy expression before padding into the bathroom to find a wet towel to clean up his husband.
As he slowly drifted off to sleep, Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to care for any more conversation that night. He could question Thorin about Dwalin’s strange behaviour tomorrow morning.