#The Hobbit request

[guardianofrivendell]

If you do requests, I would love a Fili one! Specifically, his hobbit gf who has short hair tells him she’s going to grow it out so that he can finally put it in braids <33

A/N: this was such a cute request, thank you so much for sending it in (and your patience!)! Hope you like it!

Fíli x fem!hobbit (unnamed) OC

Requested: obviously

Warnings: just lots of teeth rotting fluff I guess?

Word count: 753 words

Always yours

“You’re staring again,” she said without taking her eyes off the page of her book. As handsome and charming as her companion was, the story she was reading was too intriguing and she really wanted to know what the heroine would do next. 

But there came no response to her comment and eventually her curiosity got the best of her. She peeked over the edge of the paper, straight into the bright blue eyes of her intended.

“See? I knew I was right,” she teased with a smile. 

Fíli chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest, making her smile even wider. There truly wasn’t a lovelier sound.

“Such beauty as yours is meant to be admired, ibrizinlêkhê, you cannot fault me for doing so.”

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she resumed her reading, a blush colouring her cheeks at the given praise. Even after months of courting she still wasn’t used to the numerous compliments Fíli showered her with. 

“Your hair’s getting quite long,” Fíli commented as he let his fingers glide through her deep brown curls. “I suppose it’s almost time to cut it again.”

She didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice, even though she knew he’d tried to hide it. She usually let her curls grow until it reached her shoulders, or until it was at ‘proper Hobbit-length’ as she’d always say, before the scissors would appear. Even though Fíli knew hair wasn’t as important to Hobbits as it was to Dwarrows, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness every time his future wife took out the scissors. 

But now it almost brushed her collarbones, the longest it had ever been and Fíli loved it. How the curls danced around her face as she was running around the kitchen, cooking yet another feast, or how they framed her perfectly round face as she was engrossed in one of her books, shielding her from prying eyes. His fingers itched to braid her auburn locks, to take three strands and weave them together, following an all-too-familiar pattern, sealing it with a bead containing his sigil and making her truly his in the eyes of Mahal. But he respected her too much, and the last thing he would want for her was to abandon her own culture. 

“About that…” she began, pulling him out of his thoughts. She went to the heavy wooden chest of drawers, took something out of the top drawer and placed it in his hand with a shy smile. A pair of scissors.

Fíli’s eyes went wide at the suggestion. “You cannot ask me to… I can’t-” 

He loved her with all his heart, she was his whole world without any doubt, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do if she asked him to, but this request was really pushing his limits. 

The Hobbit girl laughed, her giggles like tiny bells in the evening breeze, and she folded her small hands around his large one holding the scissors, closing it with an encouraging squeeze. 

“I don’t want you to use them,” she reassured him, “I want you to keep them, since I have no need for them anymore.”

Fíli stared at her, his features twisted in confusion, before he realised what it meant. He dropped the scissors and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, the book she was reading toppling to the ground but neither of them noticed. As he let go of her, his hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, brushing a strand of hair out of her face with his thumb.  

“I know how important this is to you, and your kin. You’ve done so many things to make me feel at home. So I decided I wanted to grow out my hair, long enough for you to braid it. And I think we’re there, don’t you?”

Fíli positively beamed with happiness, blinking a few times as if he couldn’t believe what had just occurred. He closed the already small distance between them with a small tug, and kissed her hard, a kiss full of passion and promises and want. 

As they separated, both catching their breaths, he took something out of his pocket, and opened his hand, revealing a silver bead. “I’ve carried this with me ever since we started courting, but I never thought... Ibrizinlêkhê, would you do me the honour of letting me braid your hair?”

She smiled, her eyes a little teary at the sheer happiness and nodded.

“Always.”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata18033 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @the-banannah @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @elvish-sky @moony-artnstuff @kirenia15 @vicmackeybullshxt @hey-its-nonny @beenovel @cassiabaggins @shethereadinghobbit @justfollowtheroad @laurfilijames @fizzyxcustard @brokennerdalert @linasofia @naimadrawsstuff @errruvande-2-0 @amaryllis23 @enchantzz @narniaandthenorth @sketch-and-write-lover @blairsanne @ruthoakenshield @midearthwritings @alone19-24 @medusas-hairband @ren-ni @kyramaximoff @megnotfound @middleearthpixie @aduialel @tree0frog @trappedinlimbo15 @brethil13

Fíli taglist: @bluewingedangel @spidergirla5 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @clumsy-wonderland @i-always-come-back-xoxo

#Fíli #Fili x reader #Fili drabble #Fili Durin #The Hobbit #The Hobbit fanfiction #The Hobbit drabble #Guardianofrivendell #lotr #The Hobbit imagine #The Hobbit request

[keirahknightley]

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

🎬 Peter Jackson

+ IMDb trivia

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotredit #tolkienedit #filmedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #dailyflicks #junkfooddaily #userbbelcher #tlotrgifs #usersansa #userhayf #usersugar #userrobin #tusereliza #userleah #underbetelgeuse #arthurpendragonns #* #thanks for the request #more of these are coming #anyway brb crying over billy jackson having perfect hobbit hair

[theladyeowyn]

The Shire must truly be a great realm, Master Gamgee; where gardeners are held in high honor.

requested by @randomnessoffiction

#lotredit #tolkienedit #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #fotredit #rotkedit #lotr #the shire #hobbits #lotrgifs #* #i'm actually very happy with how this turned out :) #thank you for the request!

[verk0my]

For Hobbit drawing ideas: King Thorin and Prince Consort Bilbo (because everybody lived, nobody died, and I refuse to talk about any other possibilities lolololol).

Your art is amazing! Thank you for sharing it with us ❤️

king thorin and prince bilbo for you (and thank you so much!) <3

#bilbo with longer hair <3 #and his acorn tiara #bagginshield #thilbo #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #everyone lives au #kings under the mountain #the hobbit #lotr #tolkien #fanart #my art #verkomy #verkomy 2023 #procreate #the hobbit art requests #art requests

[notinusesworld]

hello friend! Im so excited to have a new writer in the fandom!

if you are taking requests, (I’m gonna give you a broad one) legolas/reader with cuddles!

I hope you have a great day!

~ @entishramblings // vaya

a/n: thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this

Legolas and cuddles head cannons!

synopsis: as the tittle says, g!n reader

warnings: none! just fluff.

requests are open and encouraged!

- he’s a spooner. he absolutely loves to spoon, he’ll happily be the big spoon but he also likes being spooned, especially if you’re smaller then him

- however he likes cuddling in any position, and he will cuddle you whenever he has the chance to

- if he’s reading, he wants you in his lap, if you’re cooking, he’s hovering over you, if neither of you are doing anything that day, he wants to lay with you in bed

- sometimes when he wants to take a break from his duties, he’ll take you into the forest and sit under a tree, you in-between his legs, back against his chest and he’ll rest his head on your shoulder and play with your hands, he finds it relaxing

- he will give you kisses every so often, wherever he can when you he’s holding you, your face, neck, shoulders, hands, back etc etc

- he likes to hum, and you can feel the vibrations from it though your body whenever he does, kinda has the same effect of a cats purr

- he’s really quiet when he moves, so he likes to surprise you by hugging you from behind when you don’t know he’s there. it still startles you sometimes even though he’s done it millions of times

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr x reader #lotr x y/n #lotr x you #lotr requests #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit x you #tolkien #lotr fanfic #lotr headcanons #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas imagine #legolas x reader #legolas greenleaf #legolas

[tamurilofrivendell]

Stop Running | Thranduil x Reader

Read on AO3

Pairing Thranduil/Reader

Synopsis: Thranduil confesses his feelings for the reader but they feel they are not well suited for a king and basically avoid him until they come face to face once more.

Content: Angst. Fluff.

Prompt: (#10 & #14 on this list). They’re in bold in the text below.

Requested by anon (so freaking long ago, I know! I’m so sorry lmao)

“I'm pretty sure about my feelings.” Thranduil had told you four days ago, in a soft voice while brushing his fingers through your hair.

Thirty seconds before you had fled from his sight.

You had been avoiding him ever since and he was growing weary of it. Of appearing in a room only to hear that, not even a minute before, you had hurriedly vacated it. Of not being able to just find you in these very halls that he knew like the back of his own hand!

Thranduil knew what he wanted and what he wanted was you. He had thought that you were of the same mind. So, how had him asking - very nicely, he might add! - to court you, ended up like this?

It was another week before you found yourself once more face to face with the King of Mirkwood.

As a very last resort, he had sent an official summons and guards had turned up at your door to take you to him in the throne room. There seemed to be no other way to get you to speak to him and he knew that you could not ignore an official summons, though he also knew that if you did have the courage to do so, he would have to be ready to dole out the consequences.

As it was, you went as willingly as you could given the circumstances. You had always been one to follow the rules, after all.

Once you were finally standing in front of him, Thranduil dismissed the guards from the throne room altogether. You kept your gaze forward, but not up, so you would not look at him.

Thranduil looked down at you from on high for a few long, silent moments, before he finally spoke.

“You are most difficult to find of late.” His tone was devoid of any real emotion but you could detect the hint of bitterness lingering in the background. Hurt. You could read him well enough... you always had been able to do so.

It was not that you did not feel the same way for Thranduil. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was because you felt the same way that you had withdrawn from him so suddenly. He was the king, he could not be seen courting somebody like you.

Thranduil was staring at you, waiting for you to speak, yet you gave him nothing. His frustration further spiked. He felt quite humiliated, truthfully, as he had never truly experienced a rejection such as this before and he would not have even spoken of it if he had not been so certain that his feelings were returned. So how could he have gotten it so wrong? He still was not entirely convinced that he had but he could not figure out why you would lie.

“Do you truly have nothing to say?” He asked, tutting as he suddenly rose from his seat upon the throne and turned, descending the stairs with slow, careful steps. He paced the floor until he was standing directly in front of you, looking down upon you.

Still waiting.

Still receiving nothing.

“If it is that you are uncertain as to my sincerity, I can assure you that I do not say things for the mere fun of them.” Thranduil stated, leaning down into your personal space just a little. “I am sure about my feelings.”

“As I am about my own. As in, I have none.” You snapped in response, not missing the hurt look that flickered across his expression before you turned your face away from him. “Please let me get back to my work, aran nin, or I shall fall behind.”

Thranduil straightened, silently glaring down at you before he shook his head. “I do not believe you.”

You blinked, lifting your attention back to him with a frown. “I am expected to take you at your word but you will not take me at mine?” You could not help but point out the hypocrisy.

Thranduil only scoffed.

“I do not love you, Thranduil.” You said quietly, doing your utmost to keep your voice steady as you all but forced the words out. You could not break, not here, not now. You needed to stand firm in your decision... even if it broke your heart to do so.

“And I said I do not believe you!” He hissed, reaching out and taking gentle hold of your arm as you tried to turn away from him. He tugged you back to face him, his other hand tilting your chin up and forcing you to meet his gaze. “Do you expect me to disregard all these years?” He wondered, his voice softer now, tinged with sadness. “All those long nights? All those talks? The ways in which you looked at me? You tell me now I imagined it all?”

You almost broke. You almost gave in. The pleading look in his eyes was enough to completely undo you but somehow you held firm, pulling yourself from his grasp and shaking your head. “You saw something that can never be.” You told him, turning and making for the exit. If he wanted to punish you then so be it but if you stood there much longer, you were going to break down.

“Stop running away from your feelings!” He exclaimed from behind you, his tone full of sorrow. Thranduil knew he was not insane. He knew he was not making it up in his own head. He knew that what he had felt between the two of you was real. The only thing he did not know was why you were now trying so hard to pull away from him.

“It was all just a dream, Thranduil!” You cried, spinning back round to face him, finally having reached your limit.

The silence that followed was deafening as you both stared back at each other for a long while. Thranduil studied you keenly, trying to read in your expression what you meant by your words but not entirely understanding.

“What does that mean?” He asked, breaking the silence first. He did not move, just stood where he was and hoped that you would not leave again until this matter was fully resolved.

You were frustrated. If he had just kept quiet, if he had not said a word in the face of your retreat, you would have been gone in a matter of seconds and you might have been able to continue to stand firm.

Yet, as well as you could read him, he too could read you. Thranduil could tell - he could see - that you were running from what you felt, from what he knew was real. Trying to squash down the truth of it

You sighed heavily, resigned as you lowered your gaze to the floor, shaking your head. “You are a king.”

“Yes.” Came his reply, his tone as if nothing about that fact mattered. “And?”

You lifted your head again, looking at him once more. He looked confused and you envied him for it. “And... I am not enough as to be matched with a king.”

His brows drew together as he stared at you, immediately shaking his head. “Nonsense.”

You let out a humourless chuckle, one hand raking up through your hair in exasperation. “It is the truth!” You cried. “I am nothing, I am no one! It was just a dream.”

Thranduil moved then, crossing the distance between the both of you in less time than you could process. He took your face in his hands and this time you could not find the strength to push him away. The fight had gone out of you.

“You are not nothing.” Thranduil’s expression was pained as he looked at you. “Not to me.”

“I am low born, Thranduil, I am-”

“What should that matter?” He interrupted, shaking his head as he kept your face carefully in place with his hands. His hands were soft, his touch gentle. He was afraid you would turn away from him again, afraid that your fear would come back and you would run from him.

“Why do you think it should not?” You hated how your voice shook but you could not help it any longer.

“I am king, yes, but that should not mean that I am doomed to cast aside the one I love, regardless of who they are. Would you have me take someone more ‘suited’ but wholly uninteresting to me, simply for the sake of being ‘proper’? Who cares if you are not some high born noble? Who cares! You can do anything, be anything. You can be taught the necessary work of a queen. It is not-”

“Queen?” Now was your time to interrupt him, blinking at him in surprise, though half of you wondered why. If he loved you would it not stand to reason that he would wish you to be his queen some day? “You... you would have me...?”

“Well, of course.” Thranduil said matter-of-factly, shaking his head as if he could not believe you had any doubt. “Do you truly believe this some passing fancy? Do you truly think me capable of such?”

He looked hurt and you were quick to shake your head. “No! No, I mean... I... I do not know. I just... you would make me your queen? In front of the whole realm? You would... you would truly?”

“Yes.” His answer came without hesitation.

You were not sure if you had known whether or not he was quite so serious about it. About you. You had been far too tangled up in your own doubts, your own worries and fears. However, something about him saying out loud that he wished to eventually take you as his queen was... shocking somehow. It also put into perspective just how seriously he must really feel. Even if you had known on some level, even if he had asked to court you, part of you must have still been a little unsure. As if you thought perhaps he would hold the beliefs you did about your status and would eventually change his mind. To be thinking of you as his queen, beside him... he would not say that lightly.

Thranduil watched your expression change. Your soft frown faded away. Your eyes widenened. The tension seemed to fall out of you and he dropped his hands from your face, skimming them down the length of your arms before he took your own hands in his.

“Please.” He whispered, not above begging, not when it came to this - to you.

You did not speak another word. Instead, you moved forward just a little and leaned up towards him, pressing your lips softly against his own. One hand let go of yours and his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Relief flooded through him as he understood your action for what it was. Apology. Acceptance. Adoration. Love. Everything you had been running from.

Thranduil knew then, as he swept you up into his arms and turned to carry you from the room, that everything would be okay.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #requests

[chicotfp]

Legolas comforting grieving Thranduil after Bard's death. Requested by amazing @lucy-verse Thank you so much for this request and for your Buymeacoffee donation.❤ Barduil has a special place in my heart. I hope you are not disappointed.

#thranduil #legolas #bard #barduil #the hobbit #lee pace #orlando bloom #the elvenking #elves #lord of the rings #photomanipulation #i am too emotional #all my boys are alive and happy forever #love them all so much #amazing request because i love dark anesthetics strong emotions and tragic stories #part 2 to my grieving Thranduil pic

[lonicera-edulis]

Unfit.

#the hobbit #sketches #funny how I posted it on DA and got a note asking if I do free requests for pokemon art #my brain still sometimes mistakes word 'hobbit' for 'pokemon' #my brain is this broken what can I say

[fantasyworld4ever]

Thranduil NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Gentle and sweet. He’d caress you and assure you he loved you and that you were absolutely perfect. Maybe just a little smug though

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your waist, he loves to rest his hand on your waist as it is a subtle motion and he’s able to comfort you without it being seen as “overly affectionate” as he is a king.

His hands, he loves to see how much pleasure he can give you just from his fingers alone and he enjoys the way you tremble beneath his touch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He WILL cum inside you. He doesn’t want a drop to be wasted. He’ll last a few rounds, at least 3 rounds but he can go longer if you wish it. His cum is a milky white and there’s a LOT of it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves when you ask for gentle and tender sex. He feels honored you feel that safe with him to allow him that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced. He had a wife so he obviously knows what to do. He knows exactly what to do to get you begging for more.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He loves to look at you as he fucks you. Loves to wrap his hand around your throat and watch as you come undone beneath him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious. He wants to make sure you realize that he’s present and there for you. He can be goofy at times but he is mainly serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hairless everywhere (except for his head ofc, he loves his elegant, long hair)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Praise. Just praise. He loves to praise you. “Look how good you’re taking me.” “You’re so beautiful like this” “You feel so good, Meleth. You take me so well.”

He’ll degrade you as well, a smirk on his face as he does so, knowing you love it. “Such a pretty little slut for me, only good for this.” “That’s it. Such a good whore for your king, hmm?”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it often. He doesn’t like to unless you’re watching then he’ll gladly do it. However, unless he’s away on a long trip (war etc.) he won’t do anything.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves to degrade you. He definitely has a bit of a choking kink, watching you submit completely to him really gets him going.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves to take you on his throne, gives him a bit of a thrill to see you lain across his throne, moaning as he thrusts into you.

His chambers would be his top place though. He loves the privacy of his room, it creates a certain intimate atmosphere unable to be found elsewhere. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Piss him off. Challenge him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never share you. Never. Not once in a million years. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, he loves to please you and watching as you lose yourself beneath his tongue increases his smugness. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and hard. He’ll grip your hips so tight until there’s bruising the next morning. He wants to hear you scream his name. He wants everyone to knows who you belong to.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not fond of it. He wants to pay proper attention to you. But, if you really want to, he’ll do it, for you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Open to experimenting as long as he isn’t the one in submission.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Quite long. He’s a warrior, what do you expect? He does love to drag out the foreplay though.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t like them. He wants to be the only one pleasing you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not too much of a tease as he doesn’t have the patience for it nor does he particularly see the appeal in teasing for too long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud. Just loud. Moans, growls, everything.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he’s away for a long time, he’ll write you letters detailing every single thing he dreams of doing to you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Larger than average length with a nice thick girth. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not too horny but if you ask he’s immediately in the mood for it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He always makes sure you fall asleep first. No exceptions.

{As always requests are always open! Hope ya’ll enjoyed!!}

#requests #lotr #the hobbit #thranduil #x reader #thranduil x reader #smutty #smut #oneshot

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey can i ask Thranduil and (human) f!reader smut? When f!reader can't stare at his eyes because she's very shy and insecure with her expression during *cough cough* Thank you!

I'm sorry about that one with Thranduil x f!reader cant-stare-at-his-face that i didn't addresed my 'smut rating'? Anyway🔥🔥

It's all good. Time for some more Thranduil smut. Because it's Thranduil. And smut. I'll stop now.

"The looking glass"

✵Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Human / Second person POV)

✵Themes: Smut / Soft 

✵Warnings: Insecure / Shy reader | Kissing | Praise | Body worship | Mirror sex | Fingering (fem receiving)

✵Word count: 1.3k words

✵Summary: Thranduil comes up with a unique "solution" when he realises how shy his partner is in bed.

✵Rating: 🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you liked this, please consider reblogging it.

Thranduil gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. "Sweet starlight, why do you turn your face from me?"

You said nothing, your cheeks merely burning with embarrassment. Thranduil’s question should have surprised you, but it did not. Whenever you shared pleasures with the king, he would want to look into your eyes, and you would inevitably close them and turn away. Before this night, he did not ask why you did it, and now? Now he wanted some sort of explanation.

Of course, you had an explanation, just one, but that embarrassed you even more.

"Starlight?" Thranduil was not about to let this go. "Why do you look away?"

You hummed quietly and sat up, flushing when the king sat up with you. "I… umm… that is…" you stumbled over your words, your tongue tied up in knots. Thranduil studied you with barely disguised curiosity while you fidgeted with the hem of your robe. "The thing is… I…" you buried your face in your hands and sighed. "I am not sure you would like how I look when we… when we…"

Understanding dawned, and Thranduil smiled when he heard a muffled scream. "Starlight," he pulled your hands away from your face. "Is that what troubles you? That I might be repulsed by the expressions you make when making love?"

You nodded meekly, still too embarrassed to face him. Thranduil kept smiling and looked around, his gaze skimming over the chamber before it rested on something that caught his eye and piqued his interest—something that gave him an idea. "Stay here," he said, and rose out of bed.

You raise your head, wondering what he was up to. The answer presented itself soon enough with the sound of wood creaking. Thranduil had hefted a large silvered-looking glass, one that was taller than him, and brought it over, placing it at the foot of the bed with a soft thud.

"There," he huffed, dusting his hands before joining you in bed. "That should do nicely."

You studied your reflection in the shimmering glass and gulped. "Do nicely for what, my love?"

Thranduil smiled—a slow, wicked smile—before making himself comfortable next to you. "I want you to see, starlight," he breathed huskily, and he helped you to your knees, his arm around your waist. "I want you to see that there is nothing for you to hide. I want you to see how much I enjoy seeing you while I pleasure you—that there is nothing for you to be shamed by. Now, will you permit me to go further?"

The very idea of it—watching him in the reflection of that looking glass while he pleasured you—was just so shocking, so very sinful, and more than a little daunting. It made you nervous to watch him like this, to have him look up and watch you; you were unsure you could do it. Still, you could not keep averting your gaze every night, so you came to a decision and nodded. "Yes. You can go further."

Thranduil’s eyes blazed in the dim candlelight, his hands reaching over to your robe. You felt it—the heat of his breath against the nape of your neck when he moved slightly behind you, the warmth of his hands that radiated through your silks. And you kept still, so very still, your gaze fixed on the looking glass.

The king took his time, untying the belt of your robe and drawing it away, exposing what lay beneath. "You look like a painting, starlight," he murmured, his hands sliding over to your belly. "Your body is so perfect, like you had stepped out of a vision."

Helpless and stunned, you continued to keep still, unable to tear your eyes away from what you were witnessing in the looking glass. Thranduil’s hand moved up, over to your breasts, running his fingers over your nipples over and over again until they started to throb and ache, and harden beneath his touch.

"Do you see it, starlight, how your body trembles?" Thranduil whispered, his touch persistent and demanding.

Flushed and breathless, you did indeed see it—how the muscles of your belly fluttered, how your entire body quivered. And there was Thranduil, his eyes darkening with lust, the need in his gaze matching the growing desire in yours. You felt it, growing prickles of pleasure all over your body, heat slowly pooling at your core. You blushed and instinctively tried to look away, but Thranduil caught it.

"Look into the looking glass, starlight," he crooned, his hand gliding down to the apex of your thighs. "And focus on me. I want you to see how high I could take you."

You raised your eyes and found his locked on yours. Embarrassment slowly morphed into something else, something dark and primal, when he moved his hand over to your slit and found it already hot and wet. His fingers moved in a slow, delicate rhythm, and his name parted your lips in almost a sob. You still couldn’t look away, not when he possessed you the way he did. Your body started to move against him; your hands moved to rest over his, and his groan, guttural and harsh, felt so sweet to your ears. 

"That is it, starlight," he rasped, his voice already roughened, when your first moan spilled free. "Show me how much you desire this."

Thranduil watched, utterly spellbound, as you came undone in front of him, how you sagged into him, your moans and mewls slowly turning to pleas. Pleas for more, pleas for him to go faster, to take you higher. He wanted to incite and inflame, to break down your walls, and he was amply rewarded when your hands pressed over his, to guide him. He slid a finger inside the warmth of your sex, then another, moving them inside you, slowly growing drunk on your needy moans.

"Th-thranduil," you whimpered shakily, all sense of shame now long forgotten. The sight of the woman in that looking glass, her body yielding to pleasure of the acutest kind, her eyes darkening with each deft stroke, was too beautifully erotic, and you took great pleasure in seeing it—how he pleasured you, how he took you higher and higher, like he promised.

"Do you see, sweet starlight?" Thranduil cooed sweetly, "Do you see you have nothing to hide? How much I delight in seeing you this way?"

How true he was, and how foolish you felt. And how Thranduil looked on, with lust-filled eyes, as if he were feasting on what he was seeing. "I do see," you breathed, harsh and ragged, the muscles in your belly coiling as your release neared. 

"Keep looking, starlight," Thranduil ran his tongue over your neck even as you trembled and he felt a tightening around his fingers. You were close, so very close. "See how beautiful you are even now."

And you looked on with heavy-lidded eyes as a wave of bliss rose higher and higher, as a sweet, delightful pressure grew stronger and stronger, unceasing, until it felt like your body splintered, and Thranduil’s name came out like a desperate, wanton cry. Your entire body shook against his as you slumped into him, your breath coming out in shallow pants. Thranduil held onto you, moaning softly as your walls contracted around his fingers, pulling them deeper. His gaze cut to the looking glass and found you, looking right back at him, your lips curling into a deep and satisfied smile.

"You were right," you murmured, your hands still over his. You turned to the side and found his lips just over yours. "There was nothing for me to be shamed by."

Thranduil leaned in and kissed you, his body humming with unsated need. "Absolutely nothing," he said, before helping you lay back in bed. "And now, starlight, I hope you will indulge me, by letting me make incredibly thorough love to you this night."

No longer plagued by your fears, you smiled and welcomed him into his arms.

Tags: @shrasdust | @asianbutnotjapanese | @nupppuff | @ryantryan6969 | @lemonivall

#thranduil imagine #thranduil smut #Thranduil #thranduil x reader #x reader #x reader insert #reader inserts #reader insert request #the hobbit imagine #The hobbit #the hobbit x reader #writeblr #💫a world of whimsy writes

[shirefantasies]

Heyyy i just wanna say that I LOVE your writing. Its so so comforting 🫶🫶🫶

Can I request a story/headcanon about how Thorins company/ specifically Kíli would react if (fem) reader got her hair braided by her (non dwarf) friend, and it was just a friendly thing, but the dwarves thought it was a courting braid?

Pairing Fem!Reader x Kíli

Thank youu🫶💗

Omg thanks! Comfort writing is a big honor 🥹

Mission of Misunderstanding- Kili x F!Human!Reader

Shout-out to my girlies in the unbraidable hair community lmao 🤝 Warnings: one minor swear lol, a couple suggestive remarks

One more step and your feet were going to fall off. Surrendering to the burn, you all but fell down onto the log, tilting your feet so only your heels rested upon the earth. A sigh escaped your lips and you didn’t even move when the rustling sounded at your back.

A familiar voice spoke your name. Bilbo. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, my friend,” you breathed, “so long as you don’t count anything below the knee. Or my hair. Can’t imagine how much dirt and leaves have gotten in it after all that.”

"Well, yes," Bilbo chided, ever the little mother-hen, "you've got to keep it back. Why don't I braid it for you?"

Your heart burst, and not from exertion this time. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," the hobbit shrugged, "haven't had much practice of it of late, but certainly I can give it a go for you. I understand. I wouldn't want the mess either. Come here."

Thanking him again, you scooted closer to where Bilbo stood, gritting your teeth for the pain of him detangling your hair, only to relax at the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Eyelids fluttering shut in contentment, you sat as Bilbo worked his magic neatening your hair up and making fresh braids of it for you. Feet still elevated and aching, but less so the longer you sat off of them. When the hobbit pulled back with a quiet, still-focused finished, your first instinct was to reach up around your head, touching the new set of braids with a widening smile.

"And now it shall be free of my face! Truly, thank you, Bilbo!" Pulling him into a quick hug, you vowed to repay him somehow with a teasing final statement. "Since I doubt you want me to braid yours."

"That is quite alright, thank you," he chuckled, "let's head back to camp before Bombur chases us down, eh?”

Camp was nearby, and still sparsely populated as you approached it. Bofur and Bombur were there building a fire, and Thorin stood a ways aside having a conversation with Balin. Dwalin and Gloin sat playing a game with a rock as their table, and Ori sat knitting. The others, you presumed, were hunting, saddling ponies, or else getting attention from Oin. Thinking nothing of it you sat down again, this time near Dwalin and Gloin, asking who was winning and if they were taking bets just to laugh at their responses. Bilbo helped Bofur and Bombur get set up for dinner a few feet off, propping up sticks strong enough to hold the cooking pot.

Sure enough, the rest of the company began trickling in, Oin, Bifur, and Nori first, the latter two with poultices and bandages. You winced. Perhaps you should complain less about your feet. Next up came Dori and Fili, who each carried one half of a felled deer, shot clearly with one of Kili's arrows. The younger prince had a bag in hand, likely having won whatever silly game determined who got the lightest load. Smiling and meeting his eyes, you gave a quick wave, indicating your amusement at the game behind you with your eyes.

Kili smiled back and waved, then swiveled his head away and back again in a double-take. You found yourself frowning as he averted his gaze to help his brother, blinking as you wondered what that was about. All you'd done was say hello. Not even say, really. Did he think you were making fun of the others?

Perhaps it was nothing, but considering your feelings for the prince, it was everything in your mind. Cycling ideas began overtaking your brain like mist. Had he suspected malice of your joke? Had he simply heard something? Why had his expression shifted so? Maybe he was just worried by what he heard.

~

"What did I miss while we were gone?"

At Kili's words, Dwalin simply frowned, peering at him like he'd thoroughly lost his marbles. "What do ya mean, lad?"

"Did...did anything happen?"

"Took Gloin for a right fool on the card table," the older dwarf replied with a smug look, chest puffing and shoulders widening.

"No," the prince shook his head, "not with you, with..."

Despite the way he trailed off, Dwalin gave him a knowing smirk, crossing his tattooed arms. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "not with me, not with me at all. With the lass, eh? Why, she didn’t greet you with a kiss?”

Having an older brother really steeled one to teasing. Much as Kili wanted to fight, to protest and say oi, quit that or I’ll make you, he knew it was exactly the rise Dwalin would’ve wanted to get from him. Beside the other fact that his elder could kick his ass easily.

“‘Course not,” he replied nonchalantly as he could, “I just noticed someone had braided her hair was all.”

Even Dwalin had cause for surprise at that, dark eyebrows shooting up to his metaphorical hairline. “Just since this morning?”

“Yeah,” Kili replied, trying not to sound as deflated as the words made him feel, knocking the air clean out of him now that he’d said them out loud, “thought maybe you’d seen who did it.”

“Hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I think it was like that when she and Bilbo headed back to camp.”

“Bilbo?” He’d lose to a three and a half foot…grocer? “Well now, I’d not have expected that, eh?”

“I can tell ye don’t actually want to laugh, son.”

Sighing, he finally let himself deflate. Bilbo? You and Bilbo?

~

“I hardly see them talk that much. Do you?”

“Not nearly enough to warrant a marriage. Those take time.”

“I know, Fee.”

“Spark.”

“I know.”

“And I thought you two had it. Not even just saying that because you’re my brother. You know I’m honest with you. The only reason those two would have is both feeling like outsiders, and that hardly seems cause to f-”

“Thank you, Fili, yes. Perhaps I was just wrong. Perhaps she could never have loved me after all. She wasn’t my One.”

“Now, brother,” grabbing him by the cheeks with one hand, Fili pulled his younger brother’s gaze to meet his, “not so hasty. Have you talked to either of them yet?”

“Wasn’t ready,” he mumbled, shaking out of the squishing grasp.

“Well, perhaps you should. Knowing is pain, yes, but it is also the thing that keeps us going in the end.”

Kili dropped his gaze thoughtfully before meeting his brother’s eye again, smiling faintly. “Remember our old espionage days? Maybe it’s time we had another mission.”

“Alright,” Fili nodded and smiled, “for old times’ sake.”

~

“Well hello there, Master Burglar.”

“Whatever it is, I won’t fall for it.”

“Now, now, so dry and for what?” Fili wrapped an arm around the hobbit. “I was just wondering how you you were coming along with…a certain member of the company.”

At that, the hobbit’s face crumpled in disgust. By Fili’s reckoning, Master Bilbo seemed barely interested in romance and certainly not with any of the types he currently ran with. He needed someone more doilies and dishcloths and the lot. You may have been the closest to his type, but still far too much of an edge, far too much indeed.

“I beg your pardon?” Bilbo simply replied.

With a conspiratorial wink, Fili leaned in and whispered your name, glancing back to the hobbit’s eyes, which narrowed slightly. Suspicious.

“Uh, w-well I would say,” Bilbo stuttered, shrugging lightly, “well as we could be, all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Fili’s grip tightened a bit. “There are things to be considered?”

“There are plenty of things to be considered!” The burglar shot back. “Why, is she upset with me? Last I heard, she liked the braids and I made her feel much more comfortable. Have I done something today?”

Blue eyes closing to near-slits, Fili released his grip entirely, arm falling back to his side. “Did she ask you to arrange her hair?”

“She complained about it,” Bilbo replied, shimmying in his newfound freedom and using his released arm to slide his pack closer, “so I offered to do something about it. Can’t imagine that is much of an outrage…oh. Oh, good heavens! No! Oh, no. No. She could be my daughter, who on earth sent you over here to…?”

Blonde brows raising, Fili’s head shot back in surprising hard enough to send his mustache braids swinging. “Wait, so you do know about courting braids?”

“Gloin was just telling me all about his,” the hobbit replied, freezing in place even in spite of his awkward, hunched-into-his-pack-hands-deep posture, “neither of us thought a thing about it. Privately I was hoping she and Kili would do whatever it was to get the tension out there, you know?”

Fili did know. He knew, all right.

~

“Psst! Psst! Hoo! Hoo! Caw!”

Kili’s head snapped up at the sound, dark eyes meeting his brother’s fair head popping from the scraggly bushes surrounding camp. One gloved hand waved wild beckoning at the younger prince. Rising from the rock he’d sat down on, one with a strategic view of some conversation between you, Uncle Thorin, and Balin, Kili strode to the edges of camp.

“Reconnaissance successful,” his older brother hissed.

“What?” Jaw dropping, Kili felt his hands leave his chest and clench in surprise. “That was fast. Nothing for me to do?”

“Not true, brother. Not true at all,” Fili smiled, “your part is far more important. You have to go talk to her.”

With a sigh, Kili nodded despite the heavy clunk of his heart in his chest. All the childhood playtimes were nice and all, but at the end of the day he had to be a dwarf about things. Face his fears, just like Uncle Thorin and his father and even Fili.

“You’re right. Though I dread it in my heart, I must speak to her. Even if my love is never known.”

“I wish you the greatest of luck,” Fili patted his shoulder, smiling eagerly, “and trust me. She won’t do a single thing to hurt you. I know it. Alright?”

Another nod. “Alright.”

Inhale, exhale. One step, then another. It was hard sometimes. Putting on the bravado. Fili was always so capable and Uncle had high standards. Not that he shouldn’t, but…it just got easier to act unafraid of everything. In truth, there was much Kili didn’t understand. Much he feared. Perhaps even his own heart, and that was why he had allowed himself to play games with it for so long. No longer, though.

Crunching across the dry campsite ground, he marched up to you as your conversation ended and asked to speak with you, frowning slightly at the nod Balin and Thorin exchanged. Focusing instead on your gaze, the way your eyes were intent in his and the-admittedly quite adorable-way shock bloomed across your face before giving way to a smile and a nod.

“Of course,” you said, and that was that.

How was it that one little smile from you could simultaneously calm Kili's heart and set it leaping like nothing else? There truly was no denying that you were special. Perhaps Bilbo had seen what was so dazzlingly obvious, too. Guess that wasn't too much of a shock.

You both ventured toward the tree line, stopping next to a particularly sturdy trunk. Eagerness was written across your face as you leaned against the smooth bark, encouraging Kili with a smile he couldn't help faintly mirroring even as tears swam in his eyes.

"Are congratulations in order?"

"For me?" You asked, head tilting and hand reaching to your chest. "Forgive me, but what are you asking? I thought maybe I'd upset you last night, but now I really fear it. Or are you teasing me again?"

All thought was scrubbed from Kili's brain at your words, a thick blanket of confusion draping over the prince's mind and furrowing his brows. Is this what Fili meant? Were you not to hurt him because you thought him cross with you? That hurt a bit in and of itself. Perhaps you'd known he would be jealous. But then again, you had greeted him so casually, giving him a cute little wave when he came back...

"Please," he all but begged your name, "the suspense is just killing me. Is that not a courting braid you've been given? I know it is new as of yesterday."

"Is that why you looked so perturbed? Courting...courting braid? Kili," you laughed, "my hair was full of sticks and leaves and all manner of muck, so Bilbo detangled it and got it out of my face for me! Bilbo could be my father!"

Still a bit shaky, but Kili's face surrendered a smile at the teasing smack you gave his upper arm. "Oh, forgive me for being a dwarf," he shot back, "I was hardly the only one who noticed."

"But you were the only one who was jealous," you teased him back, "is that not right?"

Kili could tell by the faltering smirk you gave, by the dart of your beautiful eyes, that you did not truly believe it, but by Mahal, you would when he was done with you.

"Madly," he agreed, eyes boring into yours, "never let anyone but me braid your hair again."

Eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, you peeled yourself from the tree as if to get a closer look. "Kili..."

"I mean it," he implored your name once more, gently taking your shoulders in his hands, "please. This isn't a joke, but if you'd like me to convince you..."

Surging forward, Kili closed the gap between you two, his lips soft against yours and stubble pleasantly tickling against your skin, which shifted as you moved in response to his kiss. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tangling in it and eliciting a sound Kili was too focused on you to be embarrassed about. When you finally pulled away for air, he pulled you back, resting his forehead against yours with a growing smile.

"So, you convinced?"

Your eyes glittered with mirth, joy, mischief...perhaps even love, and Kili knew he should have never doubted you were his One. "So convinced I practically want you to rip out all of Bilbo's work and do it over again yourself."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #kili #kili x reader #kili x female reader #female reader #ask #anon #requested

[pistachiozombie]

Hi! I love your art so much, and I was wondering if maybe you could draw a little Bagginshield something? You seem very busy and hard working but I thought I should just ask! Thank you for giving me so much to aspire to!

Of course, hope you like ♥ Sorry it took a while ~

#the hobbit #bagginshield #Bilbo Baggins #thorin oakenshield #fan art #tolkien fandom #ask #doodle #request

[fizzyxcustard]

Requested by @lathalea with the prompt “Because I care for you more than you know.” 

Pre-Quest of Erebor, when Thorin was still a young Prince. 

I hope you don’t mind this being more of a drabble. I also won't tag anyone as this is short.

You were drained, your back ached, and all you could think of was a warm bath and your bed. Being a maid in the kingdom of Erebor meant that you were constantly on your feet; making beds, cleaning furniture, taking clothing to the wash rooms. And that was only the royal wing. In particular you catered to Prince Thorin’s needs. 

You stumbled back into your bed chamber, your whole body screaming in fatigue. But upon entering, you noticed that your bed had been made. Normally your sheets would have been tossed aside and left that way until you returned. There was a candle burning on the small table at the end of your bed and you could make out a figure, their outline quite bold in the murky room. 

“Hello?” you said, stepping toward the figure. 

“Dinner will not be too long. A bath is being drawn for you as we speak.” It was the Prince’s voice. That deep voice always sent shivers of arousal through your very core. 

“Have you done this, my Prince?” you asked. 

Thorin chuckled in response. “Please go and relax in the bath and I will go and check that dinner is on its way.” 

“Why have you done all this for me?” you asked, a lump rising in your throat. You stepped closer to the table, now being able to see his handsome features highlighted by the flickering candle. 

“Because I care for you more than you know.” 

#Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #The hobbit #Thorin x You #Thorin x Reader #Thorin x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x You #Thorin Oakenshield x Reader #Request #Richard Armitage

[s-u-w-i]

‘Hobbits!’ he thought. ‘Well, what next? I have heard of strange doings in this land, but I have seldom heard of a hobbit sleeping out of doors under a tree. Three of them! There’s something mighty queer behind this.’ He was quite right, but he never found out any more about it. Still requests, this one’s for @greenwhistler, though I hope it’ll also gladden  the-biggest-apple and wearestill 🌼 Thank you for reminding me of this scene, each time I read LOTR I thought I should draw it, so, finally!

#my art #requests #hobbits #tolkien #LOTR #Illustration #english literature #ink #fellowship of the ring

[plussizefantasia]

Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart. 

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you. 

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency. 

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray. 

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back. 

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder. 

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments. 

“Alrighty then.” 

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied. 

 Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

 You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word. 

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.  

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10

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[sotwk]

The Best Gift (Legolas x f!Reader)

Summary: Legolas wishes a "dear friend" a Joyous Begetting Day--but anonymously.

Dedication: For my dearest @quickslvxrr, who has been such a constant and patient supporter. I'm so sorry it took forever to grant such a simple fic request from you. I hope this brings you some joy during rather difficult times. <3

Word count: 1.3k

Rating: General Audience

Content: Fluff, comedy, romance, shy young Legolas, secret pining, brotherly banter, OC Son of Thranduil (Prince Gelir) 

Warnings: None

To Read on AO3: LINK

The Best Gift

Third Age 556 June 26th

The Woodland Realm

“What in Araw’s name are you doing?”

Legolas gave a muffled cry and stumbled back a couple of steps, but caught his balance before he could crash into the shrubbery outside the small kitchen window. 

“Get down!” he hissed at his brother Gelir, grabbing the older ellon’s sleeve and yanking him down to the dirt beside him.

His heart racing like frightened deer’s, Legolas listened carefully for changes in the movement within her cottage, any sign that she might have overheard his dolt of a brother’s voice and sought to investigate. Mercifully, the melody of her sweet humming continued to float uninterrupted from the open window. 

“Oh, are you the only one permitted to wish our dear friend a Joyous Begetting?” Gelir smirked and punched him on the shoulder. “If I too had a gift I wished to present to her for the occasion, would you pound me?”

“No!” Legolas blurted out quickly; too quickly. “Wait--have you brought a gift for her?”

“I have not, because I had assumed your answer to that question would be yes. And as little as I fear your wee hits, honeg, I do not particularly enjoy being on the receiving end of them.” 

Gelir shoved the younger prince aside, leapt lightly to his feet, and crept over to peer above the windowsill. Legolas held his breath, despite knowing Gelir would never be seen or heard by any elf, man, or beast if he did not wish for them to. The worrisome issue was the great pleasure his brother seemed to derive from embarrassing him at every open opportunity--something one might assume a grown elf would grow weary of after two and half centuries, but it had yet to happen. 

Thankfully, after an agonizing few seconds, Gelir dropped back down to their hiding spot. “I see you opted for the purple night lilies.” He cocked an eyebrow at Legolas. "I seem to recall Ammë setting certain conditions on the use of the rarest blooms from her garden."

"You recall correctly," said Legolas tersely. All four of his elder brothers were frustratingly knowledgeable of the details of his personal business--a result of the powerful bonds that linked them. But Gelir was easily bored, and the only one to actually stick his nose in for active meddling. "She did not set a time by which I am required to make myself known."

"And is Ammë also aware you have spent--on my guess--at least the last two hours sitting outside this unwitting maid’s window hoping that she would come to some sort of epiphany?”

Legolas thought about the smile that lit up her face so beautifully his entire chest ached, and the way it had stayed on her face the entire time he waited there, content to just observe the joy he had caused. 

“I believe she knows. Or is close to discerning it.” 

“You are right. She must realize eventually that a plant so rare and valuable could only come from a high lord or prince.” Gelir snapped his fingers. “Perhaps I should walk in there and take the credit and her fair heart to boot!”

Legolas jerked his head suddenly. “You wouldn’t!”

“You are right. I would not; that would be wrong.” Gelir leaned in closer, his expression suddenly stern. “But it is just as egregious to carry on as long as you have, making veiled overtures to this lady rather than mustering the courage to speak the truth of your feelings plainly to her face.”

“The pursuit of someone’s affections must be like hunting. When you hunt an animal, you go with the focused intent of finishing the job as quickly as possible. You do not toy with the creature to scare or confuse it and cause it needless pain.” 

Gelir clamped a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “I may not know what it is like to lose my heart in this manner, little brother. But I know it is unfitting that I show greater respect to animals I stalk than you do to someone you profess to love.” 

The sudden outpouring of wisdom from his wise-cracking brother rendered Legolas speechless.  But something on his face must have quelled Gelir’s baser instincts to tease and mock him. 

“Explain your struggle. Where does all your hesitation lie?”

“I…she…” His brother seemed so genuine this time in his desire to help, that the words broke through Legolas’s reluctance to expose his vulnerabilities. “What if she does not feel the same way I do? What if she will not have me?”

“She does and she will.”

“How do you know for certain?”

“Because I have two eyes and I use them,” Gelir said flatly, his patience already worn thin. “Unlike the both of you, evidently, who cannot gaze directly at each other's faces long enough to notice how nauseatingly smitten you are with one another.”

Legolas’s hands curled into tight fists. Against his better instincts, he wanted to believe it. What maiden could refuse a son of the Elvenking if he offered her his heart?

Well, she could, in all likelihood. For what was his title against true beauty and grace such as hers? Why should he be her first choice when she could have anyone in the entirety of Eryn Galen?

“Bah! Enough of this tragic nonsense.” Gelir’s hand around his arm easily tugged the dazed Legolas to his feet.  “I will not let you waste any more time squatting here like a toad. And even toads have the sense to croak and announce their intentions.”

Gelir hooked his arm around his brother’s hunched shoulders and gave him a firm shake. “Perhaps a few bottles from Ada’s cellars might rally those nerves, eh? Come. With any luck,  you can make another go of it before the day’s end.”

As they trudged around the hedges to start the trek back up to the King’s palace, Legolas wrestled with the sense of failure at his retreat. Why could he not be more like his brothers, if not like their father? Afraid of nothing, brimming with confidence to speak their mind to anybody. What was stopping him?

Nobody. Nobody but himself. 

Legolas froze in place so suddenly that Gelir nearly lost his balance. “What--?”

The younger prince turned to squarely face the pathwalk leading back to the cottage, glaring at the bright green door with the intensity of one about to leap across an impossible distance over a deadly chasm. 

“Yessss. Go on!” He distantly heard Gelir hoot as he began his determined stride up the path. 

But then he heard something else. Footsteps. A doorknob turning. 

The color drained from Legolas’s face and his legs turned to lead. He twisted about to scurry away and out of sight, but a pair of powerful hands suddenly seized the back of his tunic, lifting him so that his boot soles left the ground. 

A hard, rough toss pitched the helpless elf to the cottage just as the door swung open. He flailed his arms out to regain his balance and avoid face-planting on the stoop, but not quickly enough to avoid bumping against the maiden that had stepped out of her home. 

“H-Hello.” He gulped down the panic that rose up his chest, as the nearness of her, such as he had never experienced before, enfolded him. Her scent, her warmth, her…touch? Legolas realized that she had raised her hands and planted them firmly against his chest, likely to help break his ungraceful fall. 

“I… uh, I came to wish you… that is…I-I just wanted to say…” Valar, did Gelir’s shove knock his tongue loose from his mouth?!  

“I wished so badly for it to be you!" she suddenly blurted out, and stuck forward her chin in her willful defiance of protocol.

“R-really?” Unexpected joy and relief burst out of Legolas’s chest like a flock of sparrows exploding from a bush.

The sweetest blush rosied her cheeks, but she still had not moved her hands from the front of his tunic, he noticed. “The flowers are the most beautiful present I have ever received, but knowing that what I had hoped for is true, that they came from you… that is really the best gift.”

“I do not believe there is anyone gladder about your begetting than I,” the elf prince avowed.

And as her whole face lit up brighter than Gil-Estel, as she slid her arm through his and guided him into the cottage, Legolas felt the nudge of a distinct sound inside his head: the chuckle of an older brother whom he had just given yet another anecdote to refer to the next time he wanted to crow over being “always right”. 

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