How they would comfort you after battle - The Hobbit characters
Pairings: Fili X reader, Thorin X reader, Thranduil X reader
Content advisory / markers: Swearing, Mentions of violence and injury, mentions of animal death, hiding weapons in discreet places I won´t say more, some sad / scared reader stuff, a little angst, fluff-fluff-fluff
Translation: Meleth nín – My love
An: Again, found the start of this in my drafts and wanted to finish it! Please feel free to leave a comment if you like it as that keeps me super motivated! My requests are open!
If anyone wants this same prompt with other characters, I am open to write that tooooooo. Honestly, I´ve just been bitten by the writing bug hehe! xx
Fili
You had quite a fright. It was after you all had been captured by the trolls and were about to be turned into their dinner.
You liked to think you were so tough - but for some reason it had set a terrible fright in you. You had only ever fought other creatures your own size, so perhaps it was the fact that you suddenly felt so small and weak in comparison to the trolls. Perhaps it was because you were sleep-deprived.
But anyway, the night after this happened, you sat by yourself by the fire as everyone was snoring and resting. You stared into the fire, thinking about the previous night. About how close of a call it had been.
“Hey, you going to sleep soon? It’s not your watch yet.” Fili approached you and sat down next to you by the fire. He had just finished his watch. Everyone was dead asleep except for you, him, and Bofur, who was currently on watch.
“Uhh.. yeah. In a bit.” You avoided eye contact, rubbing your eyes.
Fili obviously noticed something was on your mind.
But he´s not very good at expressing emotions
“I haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to you since yesterday-“ he started. He then nudged your side and smirked. “You fought those trolls like you had never done anything else.” He praised you.
You nodded once, giving him a brief, tight-lipped smile before returning your gaze to the fire.
"And dragons-beard...sure was a close one, huh?"
Tears formed in your eyes and threatened to spill. You sniffled.
Get it together get it together get it together
Fili analysed you. He frowned. "Hey there, don´t spill your eyes. You fought bravely," he tried to give you an encouraging smile, thinking you were upset about something different.
You nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Yeah."
Then, suddenly – noises in the distance. You flinched, immediately reaching for your dagger and turning to look at the source
It was a flock of birds in a nearby tree.
Fili then understood. It clicked.
You were afraid.
The thought had not occurred to him; that you – brave you – were afraid.
He took a deep breath, placing a gentle hand on yours, the one that was holding the dagger. He gave you a warm, comforting smile.
"How about you get some rest.. huh? I shall set up my spot next to yours – and Bofur is as good a watch as any I have seen. Promise."
His words were kind. You knew he had figured it out – it was pretty obvious.
But you didn´t like being pitied.
"I am not afraid, if that´s what you´re hinting at... Just, tired," you tried to play it off, and Fili smirked.
"no- no. Of course," he played along. Him and you both knew the truth. "I am, though. So I would appreciate it if we rested next to each other,"
Sly fox.
You chuckled and nodded silently.. and that night, you slept better than you had even before the trolls.
Thorin
Stuck in elvish prisons. The halls of the woodland realm.
Before being cast into the cells, you had attempted to best the elf that was leading your way, grabbing a dagger you had hidden in your boot and attempting to swing back at him, only for him to fight back.
There had been a moment of fighting, but it ended with two elves holding you, seizing your weapons.
All of the weapons.
Even the needle you kept in your corset down your---
"Those fucking elves have got a nerve," you groan angrily to yourself and to anyone who would listen after hearing Thorin´s account of his and Thranduil´s conversation, where he tried to strike a deal with Thorin.
Thorin sat in a corner, having calmed down after his initial burst of anger. Now, hopeful that Bilbo would come and save you all.
"You hear that, oh great king?!" you yelled out of your cell
You kicked the door, only to let out an angry yell when you hurt your foot more than you hurt the metal.
"Oi-" Thorin gestured for you to calm down, knowing now it would only please the king to hear the angry outbursts.
"What?" you had snapped back at him, but softened your composure when you realised who you snapped at. You sighed.
"I am sorry, Thorin-" you now spoke softly, genuinely upset you had not managed to sneak out of the elves´ grasp.
Your biggest strength was literally to slip out and away. Bilbo might've been the burglar, but you were the escapee; on this mission to help them out of tricky situations like these.
"Y/n." he spoke, getting up from his seated position and walking over to you. He grabbed your arms gently.
"There were tenfold of those elves against you. You fought longer than I would´ve imagined anyone could." he praised you, still holding you gently.
"I failed you," you whispered, not wanting any of the other dwarves to hear.
"You made me proud. I won´t hear more of it," Thorin corrected you before bringing his hand up to your cheek, wiping away some of the dirt on your cheek. You leaned into his touch.
"Now, tell me again where you kept those extra weapons?"
Thranduil
You were sitting in a hot, steaming bath, meaning to wash away the dirt from fighting the spiders of Mirkwood, but you ended up just sitting there, hugging yourself and staring into the room.
"Meleth nín?" you heard a familiar voice speak, entering the royal chambers which you shared.
You did not answer, too much in your own head to hear your beloved´s voice from the bedroom.
Thranduil found you, feeling the heat emerging from the bathroom. He carefully entered, standing by the door as he watched your figure.
"Meleth nín," he repeated softly, finally grabbing your attention. You looked over to him, a frown on your face.
"I couldn´t save them," you whispered, a pout on your lips.
Thranduil´s heart ached at seeing you in such a state. He moved closer, sitting down on a chair that was next to the bath, gently moving your hair to your back so he could see your face better.
"Who could you not save?" he asked, tilting his head as he tried to catch your gaze, but you were fixed elsewhere now.
"All of them. The animals of our forest. The spiders got to them before I did. I was too late," you spoke in but a whisper, the words too sensitive for you to speak aloud.
A tear trickled down your cheek as you kept hugging yourself. Your wet hair clung to your back.
Thranduil knew of your empathy and care for the creatures of Mirkwood. He admired that about you... But he felt enraged that the hunters of his realm hadn´t gotten to the spiders to prevent this, or that Radagast hadn't kept the animals safe.
"Where was the wizard?" he asked, trying to keep his frustration at bay – comforting you was his top priority.
"That is not his job and you know it. We have a responsibility to keep them safe, and I couldn't – I didn't," your tearducks working even harder now that you spoke aloud.
Thranduil felt worse now. He had made you cry even more.
He moved closer, placing a soft kiss on your naked shoulder.
"Can I make you feel better?"
"I have to protect them, Thranduil. It is my duty," you spoke, ignoring his question.
"It is our duty, my flower. We will. I shall see to that there will be better protection in the forests," Thranduil spoke softly, then tucked your hair behind your ears. He showed his affection by touch, and you could tell he was there for you.
"Meleth nín?" you spoke, he immediately moved so that he could get eye-to-eye with you, desperately seeking your gaze.
You looked at him, and he gazed at you in deep anticipation for your next words.
"Yes, my darling?"
"I love you."
He moved over to you, placing his lips softly upon yours. He then leaned his forehead against yours. "Always."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
What about Boromir courting a lady in Gondor? Or a NSFW relationship? 😘
Hiiii baby omg okay alright omg, I love it so much, I love the dude omg
Boromir courting a lady in Gondor Headcanons, +18, no warnings but language!
Boromir would be such a fucking GENTLEMAN, also consent king!
HAND KISSES
He would take his beloved all around Minas Tirith, or for a ride in the fields, stopping for a picnic with a view? I always think about this with those human boys but it's just a nice idea I guess, sorry.
He is 1000% the kind of guy who holds your chin for kissing you on the lips, slowly at first, then just sucking on your bottom lip... waiting for your cue to join your tongue in a deeper caress. It would be truly intoxicating, he is so tall and broad and I'm pretty sure he would smell really good, like leather and soap and Idk, incense? Something resinous... *FAINTING*
FOREHEAD TOUCHES
He is more of a jock than a nerd, so I don't believe you would catch him in the library ever, but he would find it so cool if you were a specialist on something and he would proudly display you to his dudes, like: "did you know y/n is versed on this? Tell them, my dear!" And just would keep such heart eyes during your Ted Talk, even if it was really a drunk talk on the tavern with his guard bros with you sitting on his thigh or whatever. He is SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU.
*I FEEL SO GIDDY RN*
Boromir would be the kind of dude who would talk to your family before starting to properly court you, so you wouldn't be in any sort of trouble... But, what if your families are rivals? Hm, maybe he would be so tempted to run away with you and leave it all behind???? But he would end up just asking for his father's support to come up with a solution that doesn't take him away from his duties to the kingdom.
He would be so charming, trying his best to impress you at first, but as soon as you give him any signs of reciprocating his feelings, he would fall in love even deeper... Really, with all his heart and soul. He wouldn't want to fool around with his beloved.
Boromir would have been a bit of a fuck boi in the past when he was younger, but that is way beyond him now. When we meet him in LOTR he is mature, emotionally responsible, and just an awesome dude. But he would want to get married asap... He is the Big House Lots of Kids and Dogs kinda guy. Also, he would wish to have a MASSIVE WEDDING that would be Minas Tirith's biggest event of the century so far.
And the honeymoon... He would take you to Dol Amroth (???), maybe sailing a bit? Just enjoying each other and knowing places and people... But being together every night and morning and sometimes even the afternoon, doing mature stuff. He would just want to be close to you as much as possible before you return to your normal life...
HELLOOO OMG OMG Can I have the same "sharing a bed for the first time" but with the Fellowship please ? 🙏
YES of course <3
LOTR | Sharing A Bed for the First Time
{LOTR / The Hobbit Masterlist}
Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli
(Legolas is in the elf version, here)
Requests always open for reactions / drabbles / headcanons~
AN: gn!reader, they are not in a relationship
Frodo
He is so embarrassed and blushy from the start
Remaining polite and respectful, saying that he "cannot possibly invade your space like that."
But you insist, and he clambers into the bed (which is far too big to be built for a hobbit), awkward and stiff as a board
You both lay still at first, not talking, keeping to your sides, before he mumbles a "Goodnight Y/N" before turning over to sleep
But during the night, his nightmares awaken
He shivers in his sleep, mutters nonsense about the ring, sweat coats him and he curls into a protective ball
You reach out to him to shake him awake, grabbing his arm, and he only clamps onto you out of instinct
You let him, as you notice his shivers start to fade with his face tucked into your neck, eyes still tightly shut
And by morning, he awakens and sees the position you're in, and practically leaps out of bed
Apologising profusely while you laugh at him
Sam
He is practical about it, trying to brush it off
"It's only sleepin', nothing more."
But he is constantly double-checking that the blankets are tucked all around you, wanting you to stay warm and neglecting what he needs
You both talk for a while, speaking of home, the Shire, and where you shall go after this adventure is done with
And before you know it, you two had drifted off to sleep, facing each other, a bit too close for it to be only as friends
He is the type to wake if you moved a muscle at all, constantly worried, caring, looking out for you above all else
And during the night, he wakes to find you had tangled your legs beneath the sheets, and a deep blush reaches his ears
He thanks the Valar that you are not awake to see it
By morning, he mentions nothing, but you cannot help noticing him avoid your gaze when he hands you your breakfast
Merry
He takes it with confidence at first, teasing slightly
"I do not bite, unless you keep stealing the blanket."
A yapper also. He loves to talk and talk before bed, until the stories he is recounting are slurred from tiredness
And in the dark, when he finally drifts, you notice how close you two had actually shifted together
He must've been subtly moving closer over time without you noticing
You cannot help but reach out to his arm, feeling how warm and comfortable he seems, and he hums in his sleep from your small affection
When you wake, you find his face pressed into your shoulder, with a small amount of drool on your clothes
You let out a small laugh, just happy that he is comfortable
Pippin
He has such a kid approach to it
Saying how it's like you two are having a sleepover, like he used to do as a kid in Hobbiton
He kicks off his boots and flops onto the mattress like a starfish when you both get to your room
And during the night, he wriggles constantly
And asks you way too many questions, which, although you love his curiosity, can wait until the morning
And so you cover his mouth while laughing, telling him to shush
And he only laughs and snuggles into you
Pippin is not awkward with affection, and so there is no tension when you two cuddle together, tangled in each other's limbs all night
But it does make it hard in the morning when you have to upwrap yourself from his strong grip, begging you to not leave yet
Aragorn
Ever the gentleman, he so naturally is
He insists that he sleeps on the floor out of respect, not wanting to invade your personal space, and claiming that he is used to rough sleeping areas
But you point out that the stone floor is freezing, and that the bed is big enough to comfortably fit two
And after hesitation, with a jaw clench, he nods sheepishly
He keeps to his side very carefully, lying on his back with one hand on his stomach, soft snores coming from him
And you cannot help but notice the smell of earth and smoke on him, drawing you in
And so you call him "Strider?" and he sits up immediately, a habit for a ranger, always on guard
You think of an excuse: "I am cold." "I cannot sleep." "I am worried.", and he soothes you with a simple hand in yours under the cover
But to break down that respect of his, which you so badly wish to do, it will take time
Baby steps
Boromir
He is pragmatic about it
Slightly cold approach, saying that you're both only doing this out of necessity
A strange attempt on making it less awkward, because it only creates more tension
For the first while, he stays rigidly still, keeping to himself, gruffing as he turns away from you
But he finds that he cannot sleep with his heart going a million miles an hour in his chest, knowing that you're only a few inches away from him
He shifts closer throughout the night, not noticeably, but enough until you can feel each other's warmth
But once his hand brushes your thigh, and you do not move away, and neither does he, and so he tests his luck
And so he turns without saying anything and opens his arms, inviting you to tuck in to his chest, and so you do
"Forgive me. I have not shared warmth with someone for a long time. I crave it at times."
Gimli
He makes a big show of it, trying to act unbothered and humorous about the situation
"I have shared a bed with worse, but do not blame me if I roll over and crush you."
In the first half an hour, he is tossing and turning, groaning and grumbling, while you resist the urge to kick him
You try to sleep, only for him to shift in the night and accidentally throw an arm around you
Like you're a spare pillow for him to hug
And strangely, he chooses that as the most comfortable position, and so you two stay like that until morning
When he wakes to find himself like that, he sits up quickly, startled, and acts as if he's been burned
While you laugh at his embarrassment, saying that you did not mind, while he threatens you to never mention it to anyone
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Could you do some head cannons ab how Legolas, Arwen, Thranduil would be like when mated for life? 🥺 I like to imagine some lovingly devoted to their partner and some (mainly thranduil) near obsessive over their partner. I also imagine that if the reader was a clueless mortal when it came to elven knowledge, their partner mating for life with them might be a shock to them but nevertheless in awe and in love deeply with their elf partner
here's my apology for the cheating reaction :,)
LOTR/The Hobbit Elves | Pairing with them for life as a mortal human
{ Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit Masterlist }
Legolas, Arwen, Thranduil
GN!reader
Legolas
Legolas is so much more action than word; very quietly but intensely devoted to you
Once he feel himself bonded to you, he calls you nicknames in private, like "meleth nin" or "melamin", while you just accept it, not actually knowing what it means
He is never far from your side, and you begin to notice how often he is shadowing you
Popping up in the halls of Rivendell, checking on you
Following you when you wander a bit far from the fellowship camp, doesn't say anything to you, but just follows (like "oohh where we going now?😊")
Or when you're in his father's palace, he is never not in the same room, even if he's just lying on the couch while you draw nearby
He becomes very patient with your mortal customs and quirks, trying to remember that you don't always realise the extent of the bond he has with you because you don't have that in your mortal culture
Teaches you elven customs slowly, but keeps the depth of his bond very quiet until the moment is right
Tells you after you have a near-death experience though, when you were struck with a few arrows and lost a lot of blood
He got very scared and when you got better, he wanted you to know just what it would mean for him if something happened to you
He even picks up some mortal habits from you to make you feel more comfortable, like sleeping next to you at night or drinking tea and coffee in the morning
If you're changing for him, he also wants to change for you
If you were to pass away before him (likely), he would never bond again, living his grief quietly but endlessly
Arwen
This elven beauty, she understands deep love like no other
If she had mated for life with a clueless mortal, she would at first be very conflicted and worried
The thought of you dying one day while she lives on would consume her, and so she wouldn't tell you for a while
Would ease you into it, only telling you when you had proven to be just as devoted to her
But before that, she would show you poems or songs that talk about the magical, endless bond that was elf mates
And despite her softness, she is fiercely protective of you
Anyone who even dares to threaten or bring you harm would be meeting her sharp tongue and her sharp sword
That goes for even elves around Rivendell that found it funny sometimes to give you a hard time
Holds a territorial streak, never being super physical about it, but simply just having a strong presence around you that just states "mine"
And of course, knowing her, she would give up everything she ever has in order to live a fulfilling life with you, if it meant that there would never be a time again where you both were not together
But she would never view giving up her immortality as a loss, but about the unbreakable devotion and love that she feels towards you
She has very fierce romantic gestures towards you as well, like hands brushing along your jaw, or pressing her forehead against yours when she is saying goodbye to you for a short time
If you are unsure about the gravity of the elvish bond, Arwen would reassure you everyday, through little gestures, unwavering loyalty, and spoken Elvish endearments
Thranduil
A proud, obsessive and possessive bond
He does not fuck around, he bonded and he bonded hard
Eternal, absolute and borderline terrifying in it's intensity
He doesn't only bond with you, he claims you
Courts you with expensive gifts, your own exclusive rooms in the halls of his castle, and not being able to go anywhere without there being one of his guards there as well
And when he says "you are mine" and "you belong to me", he means it in the eternal, ancient elf traditional way
He actually has trouble with the cultural differences between you two, and gets frustrated when you are not aware of how intense this bond between you two actually is
Like you just frown and blink at him when he brings up how you being friendly to another male elf made him feel the need to show you were not up for grabs, and that you were already mated
Also grows annoyed and possessive over the idea that you cannot feel the bond due to being a mortal, he acts nonchalant and unbothered, but on the inside it eats him alive
But at the same time, he is still deeply protective and sees you as something he needs to keep under his wing, your precious and fragile
Dresses you in elegant, elven clothes to show you're his
He even seeks magical alternatives that may help in extending your life, and not telling you until he succeeds
His love is fierce for his mortal mate, and he would burn kingdoms for them
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
iii. SYNOPSIS - The thought of the Crebain swarm flying over you is keeping you tense and from your sleep. When Legolas notices, he helps you relieve some of it before beckoning Aragorn to help.
iv. WARNINGS - Not beta read, smut, mdni, oral, vaginal, semi-public, nipples, tent, clothed sex, penetrative, nipples, whimpering, moaning, praise, teasing, kisses, multiple orgasms, slight bruising, etc.
v. WORD COUNT - 2.9K
vi. REQUEST - @alriguess - Legolas x reader x aragorn. They are on the quest (but they sleep in tents instead of just all together), and the reader is tense from something that happened. So Legolas decides to 'relieve her tension' if you get what I mean. And then Aragorn joins in (you can choose how). Just a lot of loving (but some roughness is allowed).
As you lay down for a good night of sleep, you quickly found your mind was not able to calm down enough for you to do so. Your thoughts kept going back to the swarm of Crebains you had come across that morning. It had been a sudden wake-up call for you as to how dangerous your quest actually was. In that moment you spent with your guard down, the likelihood of you getting caught had been so near. It left you tossing and turning in your tent, your blanket not giving you any comfort where it normally would.
It went on for so long that you got startled when you suddenly heard Legolas' voice. "Are you alright?" You jumped, looking over to where the elf was now standing in your tent's entrance. "You have been tossing and turning for so long," He spoke, stepping into the slightly cramped space, just big enough for two. He knelt down next to you, grabbing your hand in his soft hold. "I could stay if it would help you." When you were about to open your mouth to turn him down, not wanting to be a burden, he continued. "Aragorn will be taking over the watch until morning. I have just woken him. You are safe."
It was those last three words that did it for you. "Please," You suddenly realised how much you hated being alone right now and quickly moved to make space for him under the blanket beside you. He slid in next to you and wrapped an arm around you like it was the easiest decision he had ever made. The warmth of him was quick to calm you down a bit.
You let out a sigh as you pressed up against him, your palm lying on his chest, right over his heart. However, instead of feeling a slow and calming beat that you expected from an elf such as Legolas, a harsh rhythm could be felt. When you looked up at him, you found his gaze on you already. "You have been tense all day," He calmly spoke in the silence of the night. "It was easy to sense."
"Oh, I'm sorry if it bothered you.” You suddenly felt a bit small.
"Do not apologise, I just wished I could help you," The sincerity was clear in his eyes. "'May I help you?" He asked you as he slowly moved to sit up, giving you the opportunity to refuse him as he lay a hand on your upper arm, caressing it slowly with his thumb, his intention more than clear to you.
"You know I could never refuse such kindness." There was no hesitation in your answer, even as Legolas tried to find some in the moments after. He quickly gave up and realised you were being truthful, and not trying to please anyone but yourself. He leaned down to press his lips to yours, a content sigh leaving you as you were finally where you had secretly wanted to be this entire journey. His arm moved around your back as he leaned over you, his hand sprawled over the expanse of your back, the weight of him pressing comfortably onto your body. His other hand found its way down your side, grabbing your thigh and moving it over his hip so he could rest comfortably between your legs.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you as his tongue moved along your lips, requesting entrance, which you easily granted. A soft moan left you that quickly turned into a gasp as you felt Legolas grind down against your core, cloth still separating you, but not lessening the pleasure that the slight rutting sent up your spine.
Legolas' movements against you were precise, drawing out wave after wave of building pleasure. The hand on your thigh then moved back up, finding its way underneath your tunic, up until his cold hand came in contact with the underside of your breast, cupping it in his palm. He squeezed the flesh lightly, feeling its fullness, moving his thumb over your protruding nipple.
His mouth moved from yours, his lips kissing, licking and nibbling every piece of your flesh it came across as he made his way down past your neck and collarbone before moving to take your tunic off completely so he could continue his way down to your breasts. One of them was now getting smothered by Legolas' mouth, his sucking and kissing making your arch your back to press him closer against you, while his now warm hands were still fondling the other.
All of it became almost too much, your hands cupping his neck, your thumb passing over the sharpness of his ear, a groan leaving him as you felt him twitch against your womanhood in response. Your breathing quickened, and you could feel your release rapidly approaching. Your legs thrashed lightly around his waist, your feet locking behind his arse to keep him close while the rutting against you left you crying out against the back of your hand, willing yourself to silence while your orgasm had you seeing stars.
A few moments later, you could feel Legolas' cock spasm against you, a moan vibrating against your chest, his radiating warmth a comfort as you rode out your high. You let out a satisfied sigh, massaging his neck as you enjoyed the aftermath. The elf slowly but surely moved to kiss his way back up to your lips were they met yours with a soft groan. You could feel his grin against your mouth, a giddy feeling coming over you.
His mouth then wandered to your ear as his hands went to your hips, tugging at your breeches before whispering against you. "Let's take this off, shall we? We don't want you to be uncomfortable all drenched like this." You did not take long before humming in agreement, letting him remove the last pieces of clothing still covering you, before you – almost too eagerly – tried to pull his attire off. He chuckled slightly, moving to sit up so he could easily take it all off. Your eyes did not leave him for a second while more of his skin was revealed to you.
As he just sat there for a moment in all his elvish glory, the body heat he offered quickly became a miss to you. The cold left you shivering in your naked state. You were about to pull him against you again, but Legolas spoke before you could do so, leaving you entirely frozen for a second.
"Aragorn. Join us if you'd like," You looked at the slightly smirking elf, once again amazed by his senses.
A moment later, you realised you were strangely calm for the situation you found yourself in, not at all put off by the thought of Strider accompanying the pair of you as you truly thought about it.
So when the tent opened, and the man stepped into the now very tight space, another shiver ran down your spine, one full of anticipation for what he would give you. You saw him swallow at the sight of your completely undressed state. You did not bother covering up, liking the effect you had on him already.
"I'm not interrupting?" The ever so polite man asked.
Legolas looked at you, and when you gave no opposition, he turned back to his friend. "Of course not. Come join," And only then did Aragorn come into the cramped tent. "You do need to shed that attire; it is far too warm in here for all those layers." Aragorn's eyes raked over you again, before he followed the elf's words, stripping before your eyes until he was as naked as the day he was born.
Before you could once again start enjoying your company, a thought crossed your mind. "There is no one on watch right now," Your voice spoke up since you were with three. You looked at the men. "Can we leave the rest unprotected like that?"
Legolas leaned over you, softly grabbing your chin between his fingertips. "It will be fine for a moment, we will fight over who will leave your warmth when we are all satisfied," He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips to reassure you. Their judgment you trusted more than anything when it came to safety, so you did not see any reason to undermine their opinion when it came to the subject. Legolas moved to sit beside your head a moment later, changing the subject. "Perhaps the lady wants Aragorn between her thighs for the second round." The man locked eyes for a moment, Aragorn still a bit unsure, but now kneeling down before you.
You quickly decided nothing much was going to happen unless you showed the man it was fine and you wanted him. Your palm found his cheek, his stubble tickling you slightly as you pulled him towards you for a kiss; slow at first to get him used to the close proximity before deepening it, your tongue finding its way into his mouth. It was like his resistance broke, warm hands grabbed at your body – your thighs and hips – your skin sure to be thoroughly bruised by the end of the night.
A moan – which he quickly swallowed – left you at the intensity of his touch. Heat quickly rising within you, your desire growing the longer he went on. You wrapped your legs around him, getting eager at the thought of him inside you, slick adding to your drenched womanhood from the orgasm Legolas had just given you.
Aragorn moved down, leaving open-mouthed kisses on all the skin he came across, his hand holding your thigh, keeping you wrapped around him. "Have you ever taken one?" He whispered against your ear, sending a wave of pleasure down your spine while his cock lay warm against your flesh like a promise of what was to come.
"Yes, you don't need to be gentle." You raked your nails softly against his back, coming up to cup the back of his head.
"What if I want to be gentle?" You whimpered. At this point just desperate; you did not care how he gave it to you, as long as he did not prolong filling you any longer. Bucking your hips up against him, searching for friction, for some kind of relief from your ache. You hoped he got the message.
His hand moved to grab a hold of himself, moving his cock along your folds to slather the skin with the slick you were producing. You could feel a hand softly stroking your hair, like a sort of comforting encouragement from the elf beside you.
The only sign you got to know Aragorn was about to enter you was his questioning gaze, a last confirmation that this was truly what you longed for. "Please, Aragorn," You did not want to know how pathetic you sounded to the ears of your company, but your pitch quickly changed when you felt the man breach your hole.
The sound leaving you was sinful; luckily, Legolas was quick enough to silence you, his lips covering yours in a searing kiss. It took a few moments for you to get used to the stretch, clamping down on Aragorn's cock, getting a hiss out of the man. Legolas pulled away a moment later. "Aragorn is going to move now. Do you think you can control your volume on your own?" The elf's gaze told you that he believed you couldn't, so of course, you had to try and prove him wrong, nodding yes in response. He smiled in return before turning to Aragorn.
The elf watched as the man pulled his cock out of you before pushing back inside, engulfing himself within your walls. His slow, almost experimental movements picking up in rhythm, only but a few thrusts later, when the two of you got used to each other. As you grew accustomed to him within you, it was easy to learn what you could do to please him, too, or at least what made his grip on your hips tighten and his movements sharpen. Aragorn, too, slowly but surely figured you out; he had found that toe-curling spot of soft wall inside of you as you writhed in place, squeezing him as you futilely tried keeping in your whimpers. Legolas' earlier challenge and your assurance now came back to haunt you as you could not get yourself to quieten, the sounds leaving you certainly pitiful to the ear.
"Ssh..." Legolas spoke your name, "We do not want to wake the little ones now, do we? With your volume, we might," The elf had come down to whisper teasingly in your ear. He caressed your cheek within his palm, his thumb finding its way within your mouth. Without even thinking about it, you started sucking on the digit softly. "Maybe having your mouth filled will help you quiet down," Legolas vocalised his solution, moving to properly kneel beside your head, his cock standing proud; if it had been but a little heavier, it would have pointed right at you.
Another whimper left you as even more slick formed between your legs, the desire to taste the piece of flesh in front of you was high. Your hand moved to hold him, the heat making it a pleasant weight in your palm. A few soft tugs and a swipe of your thumb across the slit send Legolas quivering on his knees.
"Open up for me," The elf spoke from above you. You moved your hand to his hip, pulling him closer, showing him you wanted this, just as you wanted Aragorn pounding inside of you. "So eager," You planted a kiss on his tip before your lips finally swallowed him, his cock filling your mouth, your noises muffling as a result. "And so gorgeous too," A sigh left him at the feeling of heat surrounding him.
Legolas caressed your head, his fingers softly moving through your hair as he started slowly rutting into your mouth with shallow thrusts. Aragorn's hands were still on your hips, his warm palms grounding you as the two of them distracted you from all the evil outside of the cover of your tent.
A hand – Legolas’ – then covered your breast, squeezing the flesh and stimulating your nipple, a moan leaving you, or trying to, at the touch. Aragorn's lips soon joined in this effort, taking the other mound in his mouth and leaving soft kisses over the expanse of your chest as you – all but too late – noticed the movement of one of his hands. A sudden pressure on your clit, together with the rest of their careful but deliberate touches, had the high of your pleasure rapidly approaching. There was no way to stop the wave of body-shuddering release coming over you.
Your eyes closed as you clenched down around Aragorn's cock, while simultaneously sending vibration's though Legolas' with all the moans his cock kept you from uttering. Aragorn's hips stuttered against your pelvis as you rode out your orgasm, his hips suddenly pulling back before you heard him groan and felt his seed cover your stomach. Legolas' hips too pulled away from you, his cock leaving the warmth of your mouth; however, still remaining connected by a string of your saliva. You watched the elf stroke himself to a release alongside the pair of you, before he spilt himself on the blanket you had long passed thrown aside.
The three of you remained – recovering from your own highs – in each other's company. Legolas seemed insufferably unaffected compared to Aragorn and you, the both of you trying to catch your breath after your physical exertion.
When you took a moment to look at the two males, you found them already enthralled by you, their eyes focused on your still lying figure. You had half a thought to cover yourself up, but let out a chuckle at the thought. The two looked at you with a smile at the sound that left you, something you easily and quickly returned.
"It is amazing how truly every sound that leaves you is an absolute delight to the ear." Your face turned a dark tone of red at those words, and you immediately decided covering yourself up and hiding from their gazes was not such a bad idea – grabbing for the blanket and trying to vanish underneath it. The two immediately moved to lie on either side of you. "Don't hide your beautiful face from us," Hands grabbed at the fabric before revealing your – once again – smiling face to them.
Now content, they snuggled against you to join you under the covers, their bodies providing you with more warmth than the fabric ever could. The three of you let out a collective satisfied sigh. The two of them each pressed several kisses to any sliver of skin they could reach before closing their eyes to get some rest, which quickly reminded you. "Shouldn't one of you continue the watch?" The question was answered with a pair of groans in your ear.
Summary - The favorite positions of some of Middle-Earth's finest royals...
Warnings - Smut, language, fem!reader, afab!reader, mention of male genitalia (characters), mention of female genitalia (reader), missionary sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (reader receiving, Fili and Legolas give), facesitting, implied squirting, mention of bodily fluids, cowgirl position, mention of breasts (reader), sub/dom dynamics, implied dom!Reader, implied sub!Kili (he finds a way), praise kink (Kili), slight dirty talk (various characters), slight sensation play, doggystyle position/bent over, voyeurism (Thranduil stop fucking the reader in front of guards), slight dark!Thranduil, slight dom!Thranduil, slight sub!Reader, kneeling, slight dark!Legolas, dom!Legolas, lowkey mean!Legolas, implied brat!Reader, oral sex (Legolas receiving), fingering (reader receiving), slight powerplay (if you squint), possible dumbification (if you squint), implied punishing, cum eating, and maybe more (I might have missed some).
Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person
Pairings - Thorin x Reader, Fili x Reader, Kili x Reader, Thranduil x Reader, Legolas x Reader
Word Count - 3,800+ (I got carried away at some parts)
A/N - This is from my suggestion box which I had posted on Instagram (I will add the suggestion box here too eventually), the person who sent in this suggestion requested to not be tagged but I still wanted to thank them for their suggestion! This is more headcanon-like, so it varies a bit in length each section. I did attempt to give some plot based roughly around the suggestion given! There is only the header image in this post because Tumblr would not save the draft with the gifs I attempted to add, so I apologize for that! Reader is implied to have tits and an ass large enough to jiggle, soft hair, and I believe plump lips. Smut below!
Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad
-thorin
Missionary. The dwarven king of Erebor is a man of routine. Whether intentional or nonintentional routines, they are a part of the raven-haired man's life.
He was a simple dwarf, viewing routines and structure as the utmost importance as it was there to prevent chaos—or as much chaos that was preventable within Middle-Earth, which appeared to be close to none.
The dwarven king's love for routine touched all aspects of his life, including the more intimate aspects of his bed.
It was not an intentional routine, but rather a formed one caused by stressors—something he often cursed, but in this instance would thank as it had led him to many pleasurable nights.
It was made gradually, the first few nights of the king's reign after the battle were particularly stressful. He found himself restless, tossing and turning within the fur bedding as his beloved lay beside him—lacking an equal amount of rest due to how the bed shook with each toss of his sturdy form.
So, to settle the king's mind—and to make the bed creak with something other than displeasure—the queen motioned for him to crawl onto her. It was a mere tired curl of a finger, yet the king knew what she was requesting; and what his beloved wanted, she got.
The thickness of his cock slowly split open her tired, wet walls. The weight upon his shoulders eased as the weight of his cock eased into her, a mixture of relief and exhaustion danced upon his face as his hips began to rock at a steady speed. The toned flesh of his hips met against the plumpness of her arse as he slowly wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing his tired cock to carve deeper into her walls.
An act which slowly drifted into nothingness, as the dwarven king soon fell asleep with his head in the crook of her neck after the heat of his seed flooded into her drenched core—coating the walls of her womb with a fresh painting of white.
As the stressors of the crown became more frequent, so did the nights of the queen's comfort. Though, at times that comfort extended into the daytime during particularly frustrating elven visits.
The all too familiar sight of the dwarven king climbing on you filled your view, yet the shade of his sapphire-colored eyes had dimmed with darkness reserved for the elven king of Mirkwood. You were aware of how much the pair despised one another, how their feud over who was owed what had led to death and devastation—yet, you had little time to dwell upon the past as the thickness of the king's cock pushed into your core.
The weight of your head fell back against the smoothness of the pillows, as the weight of your chest lifted upwards slightly, allowing your back to arch and your dwarven lover to gain further access within the warmth of your walls as he pushed into you. The bones of his hips snapped against the flesh of your arse with a rough fury, the slapping of skin meeting each other echoing throughout the room as his darkened eyes peered into yours.
The dwarven king would never vocalize it, but he loved watching the subtle reactions your eyes held as he pounded into you. He loved the ways your eyelids would flutter when he grazed your most sensitive spot, how you would go slightly cross-eyed when you neared your peak, and the way your eyes glistened with tears when he had pushed you to the breaking point one too many times.
Your reactions were routine, and the dwarven king needed routine just like a fish needed water or a wolf needed to hunt. You were his routine, and he needed you like he needed air to live.
──────
-fili
Facesitting. The golden-haired prince was far more free when it came to routines, unlike his uncle. The prince found routines constrictive.
Though he was the heir to the throne, the eldest prince of Erebor preferred to have freedom in his life. He wanted to joust with fellow warriors, to drink ale and dance, and to be free to slip away to breathe whenever he desired.
Yet, his yearning for breath seemed far distant within the realms of his quarters. As much as the dwarven prince enjoyed his pleasures, he favored pleasuring his beloved above receiving his own.
A fact that left you taken aback when the prince had confided in you that he found giving pleasure far more rewarding than receiving it; you had stood there for what had felt like ages to the poor golden-haired dwarf as you blinked mindlessly at him. Had you been dreaming? A man who wished to pleasure another rather than receive it?
"Are you jesting?" The question was quickly met with an amused snort from the prince; the corners of his lips curved into a lopsided grin as his thick, calloused hand cradled the side of your face. "I'll have you know that I take eating cunt very seriously, my love." The dwarven prince promised you.
A promise he showed swiftly.
It was not exactly perfect the first time—though, no first time truly was perfect—but it was unlike anything you had experienced prior. You were not a pure maiden, you had your fair share of lovers before the golden prince, and he had some prior flings as well, yet none of your previous lovers had ever been so eager to feast upon you before.
The prickle of his bearded face sent shivers down your spine as his lips hungrily sucked upon the wetness of your cunt. His hands tightly gripped your thighs, keeping you steady upon his face as his thick tongue lapped up the entirety of your cunt as he devoured you like a starved man with a meal.
Your thighs quivered around the sides of his head as you attempted to hover above him, worried he was not receiving enough air as he drowned himself in the wetness of your core. His skilled tongue delved into your crevices, lapping up every drop of your sweet, pure nectar as he snarled in pleasure.
"Sit on me." The heat of his words caressed your throbbing cunt, making it twitch from the arousing sensation. "But—" Before you could begin your protests, the golden-haired prince tugged you down upon his face.
A surprised gasp fell from your lips as the prince dipped his tongue into your core, happily spelling his name upon the walls of your core as his hairy face ground into you—drenching his beard and mustache with your essence.
The soft prick of his nails would dig into the plump flesh of your arse as his calloused hands held you steady, ensuring that the fullness of your weight would not leave his face until he made it so.
He would continue to feast at you, rocking your hips as he continued to swirl his tongue around your walls. Occasionally, he would slip his tongue out of you, allowing his lips to encase your pretty little bundle of nerves—hungrily sucking upon your throbbing clit until your sweet squirt gushed down upon his face, soaking his beard with your juices before he delved his tongue back your twitching core.
He would drink you like water—and if he had it his way, he would drink you more than he drank water.
──────
-kili
Cowgirl. The youngest prince of the Misty Mountains, Prince Kili, was not the most presentable royal of the line of Durin.
It was not a matter of his looks, though many would claim he was prettier to elves than he was to dwarves: it was a matter of his maturity. The younger prince was reckless, finding pranks and training far more entertaining than the duties of the dwarven courts.
Or, that is what he would claim when asked of his wavering sense of duty. The truth was that the young prince required guidance.
He yearned to be told what to do. The brunette prince despised how he had to ponder decisions, wondering if he would make the proper one or if he would make a fool of himself in the process; he preferred being told what to do and when to do it.
A yearning that had trickled into his nights of passion as well.
You were a breath of fresh air for the dwarven prince. The hopeless romantic of a dwarf thanked his lucky stars each night with you, as you were always to the point and told him verbatim what you wanted from him—and he was more than happy to oblige.
When you had first told Kili of your preference to be on top during sex, it was like a whole other world had opened up for him. He was not necessarily a virgin, but he was not the most experienced of his kin either. He had a few messy encounters that left him feeling less than satisfied and embarrassed.
Regardless of how hard the dwarven prince had tried, sex never felt right to him before his first night with you.
His honey-colored eyes bore up into your gemstone-colored ones, pupils dilated with affection as he watched you climb on him. The roughness of his calloused hands would encase the softness of your hips, lightly holding onto them as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. The sensation was new to him, the warmth of your walls gripped him in all directions as the wetness coated him entirely as you began to glide on his length.
The bed creaked and groaned with each motion of your hips, his gaze falling from your eyes and onto the flesh of your chest which bounced and jiggled with each motion you made. He was utterly entranced.
A soft slew of moans would fall from his lips, the weight of his head tilting back against pillows beneath him as you continued to pleasure yourself upon the thickness of his cock.
"Fuck, please thrust up, Kili." A request the dwarven prince would eagerly comply to, his hips thrusting up to meet the plumpness of your ass each time you lowered it down upon him. "Just like that. Good boy."
Good boy. A simple name that further fueled the dwarven prince into abiding by your commands, doing everything within his power to please you in and out of his bed in the hopes of being called that delicious name once more.
And a good boy he was.
The dwarven prince was more than eager to please you. Never touched himself without your approval, nor did he touch you without approval—even now as he stared at your pretty breasts as they jiggled in front of his face, bouncing tauntingly as you bounced upon his aching cock.
His balls were filled to the brim with seed, becoming nearly painful from their fullness yet he did not dare release a single droplet without approval from his beloved. He simply lay there, allowing his cock to be used as a device of pleasure for the woman he loved most as she continued to coat the throbbing, aching length with her essence.
"Fuck...that's a good boy." The purred praise of your pleasure would cause the dwarf's cock to stir within your walls, desperately twitching for release. "Alright, alright. You've waited long enough." Your chuckled words would quickly turn to moans as the prince's hips began to thrust up.
His aching cock carved its way deep into your walls, hitting the most special spongy spot within your core in a repeated pattern—as if he was trained to give you pleasure even as he chased after his own. The prince would manage to milk a final orgasm out of you, the essence of your pleasure dripping down and coating his filled balls before he emptied his seed deep inside of you.
The weight of his body sank back into the plush bedding beneath him, as the corners of his lips would curve into a lopsided grin as your soft hands caressed the roughness of his stubbled face while you cooed soft praises to him.
He needed guidance, but he sought it most from you.
──────
-thranduil
Doggystyle. Unlike his dwarven counterparts, the elven king of Mirkwood found solace in his busy schedule.
Where some found stressors in royal life, the elven king found peace and comfort. He would never vocalize it, but he found the hustle and bustle within his daily duties as king soothing.
Perhaps it was how quickly everything transpired, never allowing him a moment to dwell upon the past and all the mistakes that lay dormant within it. Or he sought the chaos of life while others shrunk away in fear of it. Regardless of what it was, the elven king found himself entranced by things done quickly—and this extended into the realms of his chambers.
Though many elves were romantic by nature, playing sonatas of their love for one another, writing endless poems, and spending a tedious amount of time courting, the king of Mirkwood was rather forward.
He saw no point in the pleasantries of courting. After all, he was king of Mirkwood—in his mind, he had done more than enough just by holding that title. However, the king was wise enough to never vocalize his opinions on the matter, as he bit back any snide remark he had on the matter with a bitter grin as he focused on what was important: you were his.
A fact that was well-known to all within the woodland kingdom, as the sounds of your pleasure were ever-playing throughout the twisted halls. Morning, noon, and night. A tune that none could forget, one which the elven king seemed to orchestrate whenever he caught a guard's gaze lingering upon you for a moment too long.
The position was like second nature to you, engraved in the very cells of your body after so much time together with the elven king. Your arse was up in the air as your chest was pressed firmly against the smoothness of the silk sheets under you while the elven king slowly entered you. His thickness parted your wet walls, wetness you were ever thankful for, as the elven king did not seem to give you a moment of breath before his hips snapped forth, meeting the plumpness of your flesh.
His motions were sharp yet poised and precise.
The thickness of his length would delve deep inside of you, as his slender hands would grasp upon the plumpness of your rear. A grasp tight enough to hold you in place, ensuring that your hips never dropped as his thickened length continued to carve into your inner walls, yet loose enough to allow your ass to jiggle as his hips bounced off of it.
The elven king loved watching your ass bounce, it was something that left him hypnotized. The sight of your sweet, plump flesh reacting to his possessive thrusts allowed the weight of his days to melt away—as well as the anger he held towards that damn guard.
The cries of your pleasure would be muffled, either by a pillow or the very sheets you laid upon, as the elven king would lean forward—adding more of his weight into each harsh thrust of his hips.
Yet, there were times when you could not muffle the sounds of your pleasure—even when you desperately yearned to.
At times, the elven king enjoyed proving a point to those he caught with lingering gazes towards you. He would instruct they fetch you from your shared quarters, insisting they bring you to his throne room for something of urgency. And like a good servant to the king, they would.
Within the blink of an eye, you were bent over the twisted throne—your hands desperately clawing at the variously curved wooden throne as the elven king hoisted up your skirts; your dripping cunt on display for all to see, including that damn guard.
The elven king's motions would be swift and fluid, his cock buried deep within your wet, welcoming walls, yet his gaze would not be upon the plumpness of your arse. Instead, his cold, pale sapphire gaze would be locked upon the armored man who dared gaze upon you for too long.
His gaze would be piercing, never leaving the other man as the bones of his hips would snap against the plumpness of your ass, making each thrust sharper than the last—ensuring the swollen tip of his cock would hit against the most pleasurable spongy spot within you.
As your cries of pleasure danced throughout the air, it carried a weight throughout the woodland halls. A reminder to all those who inhabited them that the elven king moved swiftly, and could have you just as swiftly.
──────
-legolas
Kneeling. Due to the ever-changing nature of Middle-Earth, there were very few within it that gave the elven prince a sense of control.
Perhaps it was the nature of irony: a prince who believed he lacked control, heir to a throne yet yearning for more. His logical mind reasoned with this sensation, rationalizing it as nothing more than a search for stability amongst the most recent chaos within Middle-Earth. Yet, the emotional sphere of his mind yelled that it was for something more.
It was a thirst that the elf could not quench nor ignore.
The yearning within him was further than matters of the mind; it felt as if it was in his blood and bones. An unspoken birthright, one burned deep into the very essence of his being—he craved, no, he needed control.
And he found that control in you.
You were one, if not the only, consistency in the elven prince's life. Regardless of what transpired within the woodland realms—or realms outside of it—you were always there, waiting within the secure walls of his chambers, eagerly awaiting him upon the plush bed.
To him, you were a beautiful little doll. His perfect little plaything, the one he adored and showered with affection and treasures. He ensured that you were never left yearning—unless you had been bad that is.
On the days you were good, the elven prince would pull you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between the plushness of your thighs before he buried his smooth face between them. The wetness of his tongue would caress the outerness of your entrance, as the fullness of his slender fingers delved inside of your core.
As the fullness of his fingers would stretch your inner walls, carving and curving into the most pleasurable spots within your textured core, his eager tongue would lap up any droplet of your sweet nectar his fingers would push out. The squelching click of your damped cunt would echo throughout the air, accompanied by your soft mewls of pleasure as the elven prince took his time pleasuring you.
He was precise and calculated with each stroke of his fingers: he knew the inner workings of your cunt better than he knew the back of his hand—knowing exactly which sensitive, spongy spot to press into to make your sweet thighs tighten around the sides of his head. How fast to pump his fingers within you to make your breath hitch from pleasure, and when his lips needed to wrap around that sweet little clit of yours to make you drench his hand—and forearm—with your juices.
But on days when you were bad, or life merely felt bad to the prince: it was you who knelt.
His slender fingers, the ones that once gave you such immense pleasure, would be tangled within the softness of your hair. The grasp he held upon your head depended upon the circumstances of the day—but more often than not, it was firm.
The fullness of his cock would push into your mouth, tainting it with the bitter, salty tang of his precum as he would sink in as far as your throat would allow him—stopping when the vibrations of your gag would echo on his thickened length. Slowly, he would puppet your head upon his cock, making it bob back and forth as he slowly sunk more of his cock into your throat until the plumpness of your lips met the flesh of his abdomen.
"That's it, pretty girl." The elven prince would coo, his sapphire gaze boring down upon you, watching as the thickness of him forced the saliva out of your mouth—stained the faintest hue of white from the mixture of his precum—watching as it rolled out of the inner corners of your mouth and down your chin. "Such a messy little thing." He would continue to puppet your head at an increasing speed, the bones of his hips meeting the flesh of your face as he jutted his hips into your mouth; ensuring he was as deep as he could be within it.
If you had been particularly bad, then he would hold your head firmly in place—thrusting in your mouth at a quickened pace, allowing the weight of his balls to bounce upon your chin, coating them with the sticky mixture his cock forced out of that pretty mouth of yours. As you would cough and gag at the sensation, the elven prince would simply shush you. "Ah, ah, ah," He'd taunt, a purposefully harsh thrust making his balls slap against your chin as he held you steady. "you had such a nasty mouth earlier, why not keep it nasty?" He'd coo, one filled with fake care and compassion—a taunt at your previous actions as he continued to fuck your throat until he painted it white with his seed.
But on the days when you were good and the world was bad, he was far more tender.
Though his grasp remained firm and his thrusts a bit rough, the elven prince was not punishing you. With each gag, cough, or whimper that vibrated upon his cock—he would pull back until the throbbing tip rested upon your plump lips. "That's my pretty girl, such a good girl for me." He'd praise, a hand dropping from the back of your head to softly caress the side of your face until you gave the okay to continue.
A slew of pleased praises would fall from his lips as he fucked your mouth, the weight of his head tilting backward as his grasp remained firm on the back of your head. "I'm going to fill your mouth." He'd gasp out, the tips of his nails digging into the back of your head as his hips stuttered into your mouth. "Swallow it and I'll give you anything you want, my pretty girl." And he did, the warming rush of his salty seed would flood your mouth—making you down it with a choked gag, yet it was still done.
The elven prince would continue to praise you for being a good girl, his good girl, as he pulled his cock from your mouth. The tightness of his grasp dropped from the back of your head, one hand meeting the side of your face to return to the earlier caress as the other wiped away the remnants of his previous actions from your lips—giving him a sense of control as he came down from the highs of his pleasure, the same control he had once sought after.
──────
Want to read one part at a time? Read separately on AO3
Thorin, Fili, Kili, Thranduil, Legolas
Want to read it as book chapters? Read separately on Wattpad
i absolutely adore ur headcanons posts with the lotr characters but i didn’t know how many characters you take requests for per headcanon post so i’ll keep it very short ehehe
how would the elves (legolas, thranduil, lindir, glorfindel, meludir, haldir and feren) react to human who is just affectionate even before courtship starts? morning hugs, lemme braid ur hair, surprise tackle hugs or see u later forehead kisses? just thought it would be funny to see the elves go beet red with perked up ears since y’know, they’re not as affectionate as humans
thanks so much! (and so sorry for the wait, completely my bad) legit an honour to have you request from me/say you like my works. and I completely agree with the thought being funny, and here it is as headcanons!
(full disclosure, i've written once/not at all for the last three characters - please tell me if they're ooc)
✧ Depends on if he’s travelled with the Fellowship, or if he hasn’t.
✧ Either way he’ll go still for a second, eyes gently going to you as if to check you’re actually doing what you’re doing. And of course there’s a light blush that’s spreading across his face.
✧ He gingerly hugs you back, unsure whether or not to squeeze you in it like you’re squeezing him. And when you give him a little forehead kiss he simply freezes in your arms.
✧ Wonders, just for a second, if you somehow started courting and he didn’t realise. Then he simply stays there and gives a smile.
✧ It isn’t forced, just slightly uncertain - he’s never experienced this before.
✧ Later comes up to you and awkwardly thanks you before retreating backwards.
✧ If he’s been in the Fellowship for long enough he starts to reciprocate the gestures on a smaller scale.
✧ Legolas can very easily be convinced to braid your hair as well, and he takes it very seriously.
✧ Lays out his cloak so you can sit on the grass. Does a few small ones so you can see which one is preferable.
✧ When you’re not courting he feels a little guilty doing it - as your hair falls through his fingers it’s almost like you are together. And he doesn’t want to take advantage of that. But he likes you too much to stop, and you braid his hair as well.
✧ Is probably the quickest of the elves to get used to it, aside from Glorfindel.
𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥
✧ In an odd way, he’s one of the elves who craves it the most.
✧ Everyone else has some casual touches, a reassuring gesture by a friend. But no-one is brave enough to touch the King of Mirkwood. Until you.
✧ He’s missed warmth, he’s missed the sense of other people that you can now bring.
✧ Thranduil finds himself at first leaning into the hugs, before remembering that he should be proper. That he’s maintained a colder persona for so long. (He still can’t fully hide his reluctance as he pulls away.)
✧ The people who know him well are surprised when he doesn’t admonish you, before they realise why. You don’t understand why the king is suddenly glaring at someone behind you.
✧ Eventually he starts to return the gestures as well, although to start they are more careful.
✧ As begins to braid your hair - the light touches causing some strands to escape and generally become loose - you remind him that you’re not made of glass.
✧ You’ve been able to almost tackle him with a surprise hug, he can touch you with more than a feather-light weight.
✧ Once the two of you start courting he accepts the gestures more easily, although he’ll never become quite as good at spontaneous physical gestures of affection.
✧ Throughout the entire time he remains impressively blush free, although he does tense quite a lot.
𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ You’ve seen how the poor elf froze when Aragorn simply hugged him. He’s very unused to gestures like this.
✧ He does like them - or at least, judging by the way he’ll steadily grow red he thinks he does. Or maybe he simply likes you.
✧ You have almost certainly triggered his fight/flight/freeze instinct on more than one occasion with a surprise hug, although he’s getting better at it. There’s a low chuckle, and a small smile when he realises it’s just you.
✧ People being this naturally affectionate is a curiosity to him, but when it comes from you it’s something he’s eager to know more about.
✧ Although the gestures, the small kiss on your forehead in greeting and such, are at first stiff and uncertain he gets better with them.
✧ Half the time when he’s greeting you with a forehead kiss, his lips really want to ask you ‘what are we?’. Or perhaps kiss yours.
✧ Still, Haldir is content to wait for a while. Even if he freezes up, your gestures still mean so much to him.
✧ Things become clearer when you eventually start courting, and all the affection feels more natural to him.
✧ There’s moments where Haldir simply blushes as he stands next to you, but every day the elf becomes more sure of your bond - and gives more expression to it.
𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ Also blushes a lot, his breath slightly catching before he tries to amend whatever he’s done. A small cough, or perhaps a bow to you in greeting - a vague hope some of the red will have gone when he comes up again.
✧ How you greet him, the quick kisses or the hugs, pulls him straight into romance stories he hasn’t read (or at least acknowledged reading) since he was a young elfling.
✧ And even then the gestures where between those already together, not like the two of you.
✧ Yet he doesn’t ever draw away, finds his gaze lingering on whatever has occurred.
✧ After the first time you’d braided his hair he’d nervously approached you again, asking if you braid it the following day as well.
✧ What you’re doing is unusual, but he can’t bring himself to care. Even the worries he has about seem to dissipate when you smile at him, or say goodbye with a kiss.
✧ Even after you start courting he still can’t stop his face from blushing horribly. Although he no longer hides it - he’s proud to be that deeply in love with you.
𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ When you first meet him, your interaction is brief. Not too many words exchanged as he talks to you, and then again as you disappear. Except for ‘goodbye’ kiss you give him.
✧ It’s feather light, but as an elf he could feel it so clearly. The brush of your lips against his skin, the way your eyes had sparkled. How quickly blush had rushed to his cheeks.
✧ Meludir lifts a hand to the spot you touched him, almost as if expecting something. But there is nothing, just the memory of your affection.
✧ Unlike the other elves, he can’t help but try to seek out your affection. Returning a friendly kiss with a gesture of his own, even if he can’t quite bring himself to kiss you back.
✧ There’s always a smile on his face after you’ve done something, big or small, and a sprinkling of blush to accompany it.
𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧
✧ The first time you do such a gesture to him he’s quite certain that it’s by mistake.
✧ The second time you do it, or something similar, you can see him freeze for a second (trying to process it) before he turns to you. Almost confused, trying to understand why.
✧ Feren eventually just accepts it, although that doesn’t stop him from getting slightly flustered.
✧ As a diplomat the brief kisses, the friendly greetings aren’t too bad. He can adapt, he can get used to this new social interaction. What he can’t get used to is the more intimate gestures of affection.
✧ You truly see him flustered for the first time when you offer to braid his hair. The way he looks to you, words suddenly gone as you smile at him.
✧ It’s also these interactions he craves more than anything else.
𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥
✧ There is a small part of you that’s, quietly, intimidated by the golden warrior. But when he laughs with you, a rich, lighter laugh than you expected accompanied by a radiant smile, you realise you have nothing to be afraid of.
✧ Still, the goodbye hug you give him is slightly shy.
✧ There’s a moment where he simply lets you hug him, before he ever-so-gently returns the gesture; careful to be light and to not trap you.
✧ The smile he had on his face is still there when you pull away, which gives you a little more confidence.
✧ And Glorfindel is so happy you have the confidence. He’ll still blush when you’re affectionate, but it’s more because he likes you than he’s embarrassed.
✧ (One exception is the kisses, which do turn his ears red. He still looks forward to them from you, however.)
✧ Will return quite a few of the gestures, although like Thranduil you have to remind him that you’re not made of glass.
A/N : Comes back to drop this fic with no explanation, leaves immediately again- Just kidding. I should be back again, sorry for the long wait; I've been very ill & then my laptop broke, so. 2025 been going... interestingly
« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan ✧ wish to be tagged?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
that thing about Legolas watching you and Aragorn get it on (also here)
content warning (MDNI): exhibitionism, v fingering, semi-public, voyeurism, reader is not aware of Legolas watching
f!reader
And yet another shaky gasp hit his sharp ears. This time louder, more concerning, bringing a sense of worry over the woodland elf about your state.
The distracting murmurs were not new to Legolas. He had heard them before, had had them thieve focus away from his night watch and perk his ears up to listen, concluding that perhaps you were just experiencing a wretched dream. But this night, the tones were strained, less controlled, and as if they were being massaged out of your throat by force.
His apprehension overtook his priority of duty, and he stood up from his squatting position. Legolas braced his balance on the trunk of the tree that sheltered the sleeping fellowship so warmly, and he swept down to a lower branch, allowing his glacial eyes to land upon your resting form just a short drop below.
Aragorn was lying behind you, how he would most nights; face tucked where your shoulder met your neck, his broad chest against your back and gluing himself as close as possible to you.
Another whimper from you; shakier, quivering, a smothered sound that wished to be heard. Legolas cocked his head to catch the sound better, hoping to figure out if you were distressed.
But it hit him soon enough that it was quite the opposite.
A repetitive movement beneath the cover of your bedroll, around the area of your hips, caught his attention. The fabric lifted and flattened with a steady rhythm that made Legolas's cheeks grow hot and caused him to suck a quick, shocked breath in.
"Careful meleth nin..." Aragorn's strained, husky voice could be heard by the elf. His lips pressed against your ear as he spoke, not once letting up with his middle finger massaging the walls of your pussy, deeply and meticulously. "Legolas does not sleep as easily as Men. Every sound you make, he is sure to hear."
Legolas felt his blood quicken at the mention of him. His hand found the branch to balance himself as he leaned further, his wandering eyes longing for a better view of this scene that brought such tingling to his flesh.
Aragorn chuckled deeply against your skin as you drew in a sharp breath. His middle and index fingers found themselves on your clit, rubbing soft figure eights to only push you further. Your legs twitched at the change in pleasure, and your fists clenched the fur blanket covering you both, knuckles turning white.
"Do you-" you're interrupted by a swallowed gasp as Aragorn's rough hand moved from your hip to under your tunic, pinching your hardened nipple. "...do you... think he knows?"
Legolas felt a smile creep onto his face. Your coyness he always found endearing, and he could not help but bask in this sight of you; so vulnerable and helpless under Aragorn's desire to ravish you, and all for him to watch.
The ranger's eyes rolled from your hips, wriggling against his stiffness. It only made him want to torture you more, to have you press against his crotch harder. He would hate for you to stop now, and so he kept the secret of the onlooker to himself.
With the turn of his head away from your neck, his grey eyes met the depraved orbs of the elves. Legolas froze, like a deer in headlights. He was caught.
Only Aragorn did not react, but only continued his assault on your soaking cunt. The coolness of his rings kissing your clit as he pushed a finger back inside had you throw your head back against him, and he met your enthusiasm with a nuzzle against the crown of your hair. His eyes never once left the elf's.
A cruelly pleased smirk emerged on the ranger's face. "No... my love," he grumbled out. "I'm sure he has no idea."
{LOTR Masterlist}
Anon you blessed creature, thank you for this idea
a proud elf fucker has come to disturb ur peace bbygurl smug tiktok emoji
so,,,, humans are more openly affectionate and touchy-touchy compared to the elves right? hand holding, smooching ur friends’ forehead or cheeks for good luck or saying goodbye or when showing u have missed each other or an arm around the other’s waist when comfortably sitting beside each other and chatting.
how would the elves react to this? like a human s/o (before courting) who is just generally so,,,,,,, affectionate (i dunno how many characters you would accept pookie but im mainly thinking of thranduil, legolas, feren and lindir for this)
expect me more in ur inbox pookie😚(a threat)
A/n: Come by my door again and I will throw you out (a warm meal awaits you inside). This is more of a ramble than really my usual headcanons that I do for characters. A reminder again - but I am a bit rusty with writing for these characters, so this is me rambling about them so I can explore them better. Unapologetically longer part for Legolas bc he is my bbg. Didn't do Feren for this one, but I hope to add his part on this prompt in the future. Hope you enjoy pookie!
Contents: Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir x GN!Reader (separate), fluff. not proof-read so expect grammar mistakes (very scary)
-Listen- Thranduil is hard to reach, he’s a tough nut to crack as one may say, and he is quite distrustful of strangers, but this is not a scenario where you’re a stranger to him, oh no.
-While you have caught the interest of the elven king and as his knowledge is ever so deep on both elven customs and that of man, he can’t say he has ever indulged in the human customs quite so much. You sort of make him want to indulge in it all.
-Thranduil is not the one to hastily discard his public image and reputation for the sake of a fleeting touch of fingers or a graze of your lips across his cheek in a farewell bidding, yet seeing you do so with your company with which you travel with makes him think.
-For a mind that has seen so many centuries and so many faces, you have made him feel as if the memories of friends of old and strangers came before his eyes only in preparation to see you. Quite weird, but it is what his mind makes him think. Were you sent to his path for a reason?
-And where do you get your boldness from, to try and touch him so easily? What makes you think that is proper? When have you become so brazen when just yesterday you seemed to struggle with speaking to him formally?
-He does request your company alone from time to time, walks through the woods and dinnertime especially, and this opens way for more privacy and attempts at intimacy.
-Here, you’d find him more forgiving at accepting your advances
-He is still getting used to the feel which your hands leave behind after gripping his own hand or his arm, or the tug at his sleeve the poke of your fingers at his side - yet he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It’s such a small change in his life, but it feels surreal to experience it all the same when he is so used to the generally the same routine and schedule, especially in his relations with others.
-At the end of the journey of your outing, he’d return the gestures with one of his own, one a bit more subtle than yours, but he makes sure his kisses on your knuckles linger
-Humans are touchy, yes, Legolas has witnessed much of this displayed affection since he departed Mirkwood for his journeys, but what he felt when he saw all of it wasn’t shock or disgust like some of his peers felt when they saw these “crude and hasty customs” - rather he felt some longing instead, a yearning.
-He craves a close connection too, but he is hopeless in seeking it out in the world of mortals and he is a bit without a clue on how to develop such a closeness with someone. He wasn’t raised in a place where emotions are foreign, but as established before - human and elven customs do differ, and they both perceive emotions and displays of it differently. You can say Legolas fits a bit more into whatever human ways are of expressing emotions. Firm hand holds and tight hugs instead of brush of fingers and longing looks during long periods of courting. Man, Legolas just craves a strong friendship, let alone a relationship
-I think it would be safe to say Legolas is touch-starved in his own right, simply put
-So when you come along, and you both click as companions? He is quite happy to put it lightly. I don’t think there is an adequate term that can summarize his elven giddiness when he simply sees you being openly affectionate with your friends, he feels a sense of belonging since you are not a stranger he observed, but someone he has come to understand too. He knows your name, your story, what you do and don’t like
-Yet this doesn’t prepare him for when you show the same affection to him as well. Suddenly all lectures and elven courting rules and traditions come pouring in his head all within a blink of an eye and it is the first time you have seen him look so taken aback.
-He doesn’t reject your advances however, he’s much more accepting of them than his father, and it is just you and your shared small company, sometimes not even them, that get to see this exchange. He is.. giddy, quite happy.
-It feels fulfilling sharing in the affections, although he is much more reserved than you by quite a lot - he tries though. He’d still absolutely love it if you accepted his proposal of courting, so he can court you properly and as you deserve. Please let him he is on the edge of his seat, he is about to fall off waiting
-Despite what he feels and how human his smiles and expressions have become since you began to pay him this attention, he is patient, he moves at a slower pace than you and he is your grounding rock when you become too hasty
-It is not a rare sight to see him draping his cloak around you, or - at your request - see him sitting next to you huddled under the same cloak or a blanket by the fire. Coziest he has ever been tbh…
-In some summary - your hands are held gently, your brows are kissed tenderly and you are well taken care of with him around
-(Please send me more Legolas thoughts or requests I love my bbg sm)
-Now this one is a little more dense. Denser than the Elven King? I hear you ask, and I say to you - possibly.
-Now, correct me if I am wrong, but he isn’t exactly too old, by elvish standards of course. He is relatively young by their norms, and has spent a lot of his time in Rivendell, serving Lord Elrond
-A very personal headcanon, take it or leave it, but he is even younger than Legolas.
-Anyhow, Lindir is quite dutiful in his work and doesn’t accept it comfortably when new energies are introduced to his environment. He can get quite skittish and tense when things aren’t going according to some mental plan he has set out in his mind, or even worse - if the events aren’t following a plan shared by him and the others. He is very keen on sticking to this familiarity of routine and stagnancy, in some way.
-So, note his surprise when you stick around and worm your way into his daily schedule.
-For a long while he swore to himself up and down how he will never get used to you, perhaps if you grew as old as he then he might, but your life was a flicker in comparison to his own
-He is even more surprised and confused when he sees himself looking for too long at you sharing hugs with your friends, bidding them goodbye and safe travels by kissing them hard on the forehead and trying to..wrestle them? What an odd thing to do to your friends..
-He is more baffled when you attempt to do the same to him. How could you?!
-He is an elf, an elf with standards!
-An elf with standards which you break through anyway since you’re so..infectious. Lindir had the funny thought, although it was a bit unsettling to him at the moment, that he was sick or fading/dying.
-In the days and months following, it took much effort to finally see the fruit of your labor. Lindir was finally, although still slowly, opening up to just spending more time with you instead of going by his strict routine that he played on repeat.
-He doesn’t sit three feet away from you anymore, but rather two and a half.. Not literally, of course, but the distance between you seems like it is miles with the way he sometimes acted in the beginning of these outings with you.
-The distance surely shrinks until he is actually next to you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he traces a small scar there which you claim you earned in your childhood. By elvish standards, humans are nowhere near perfection, but his thoughts have begun to change, and he no longer sees perfection in the standards he was raised with, but rather he sees it in you. Each little thing that separates you from another, and little by little he begins to sow you into his memory.
-He isn’t the best at remembering mortal souls, they all pass by quickly, but you linger and linger and he doesn’t want you to not linger. Linger with him by the fountain, will you? Let him ask you questions to distract himself from the fact your hand embraced his?
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
My phone screen is brighter than my future @eternalslover - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
