#bard the bowman x reader

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Carrying their sleeping loves to bed

Thorin: *lovingly looking down at a sweet sleeping Bilbo in his arms*

Thranduil: *Bard in one arm, Y/N in the other, carrying them under their bums like awkward toddlers*

Thranduil: “They’re not heavy but that doesn’t seem fair.”

#bagginshield #Thranduil #Thranduil imagine #Thranduil x reader #bard the bowman #bard the bowman imagine #bard the bowman x reader #bard the bowman x Thranduil #barduil #bard the bowman x reader x Thranduil #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #barduil x reader

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine you and Bard getting caught after causing trouble in Laketown…

Bard looked at Braga as the man had a tight hold against your wrist. He had taken a shortcut and pushed Bard aside before grabbing you in retaliation.

Bard swiped the fabric closest to him and lifted it high for the leader of the guards to see. He had hoped it was something he could use to barter your freedom… but it was a very sheer nightgown.

Thinking on his feet, Bard blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Your wife would look lovely in this.” He suggested and caught a quirk of your brow, reasonably unimpressed.

This struck a nerve with the captain, who absentmindedly tightened his hold which made you wince. 

“What do you know of my wife?” Braga demanded.

Bard softened his sarcasm and turned it into sincerity. “Well, I know her as well as any man in this town.” He shrugged. 

Braga snapped and pulled you forcefully until he had you by the arm and leaning over the icy Laketown water. The man was very aware of how much Bard had grown tense and enjoyed it.

“Let’s see if your humour follows them when they take the plunge.”

One of the guards fastened a cloth around your mouth and slammed the hilt of his sword against your head. Without a moment to spare, the captain let you go.

Bard saw you hit the water and attempted to jump in but the captains men stopped him. There was a scuffle but he was overpowered and hit across the head, effectively knocking him out. His last thought was of you being lost to the icy depths of the water.

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #bard imagine #Bard x Reader #bard the bowman x reader #bard the bowman imagine #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #hobbit x reader #hobbit imagine

[mlmxreader]

Just Be You | Bard the Bowman x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Bard

58 “It looks good on you, you should wear it more often” ❞

: ̗̀➛ Bard is having doubts about himself when it comes to meeting your family.

: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Bard grumbled as he looked at himself in the mirror, frowning as he doubted that he looked good enough.

He was going to meet your family for the first time, and he was quite nervous in all honesty; he knew your family weren't much better off than his own, coming from a farm in the next town over and making very little despite the hours and hours of hard labour.

He knew they wouldn't judge his situation, either; two children of his own, he was more than glad that your family immediately agreed to accept both of them as yours as well.

But months of courtship suddenly felt like too little as he ran a hand through his hair and wondered if he should cut it. Maybe he should have neatened himself up a bit more.

But with Bain, Sigrid and Tilda off at their schoolmates' homes for the weekend for various birthday parties and sleepovers, Bard felt a little outnumbered.

Even when you walked in with a fresh cup of tea, putting your arm on his shoulder and smiling at him through the mirror, he felt a little out of place. Out of depth.

"What is it?" You asked, tilting your head to the side and pressing the mug into his hand. "C'mon, cough it up."

He let out a long sigh, chewing at the inside of his lip. "Are you sure this looks alright?"

You nodded as you hummed, daring to tug at the lapel of his soft fur jacket. It was one of the best ones he had, a medium brown colour with a thicker fur trim on the inside, collar and ends of the sleeves.

You rarely saw him wear it anymore, even though it looked so good on him; you bit at the inside of your lip, pushing certain thoughts from your mind before clearing your throat and daring to kiss his cheek.

"I love that coat," you told him softly. "It looks good on you, you should wear it more often."

Bard glared at you for a second, shaking his head. "And what of the rest?"

"The white shirt is a good start," you mused, stepping in front of him and resting your hand on his chest. "The black trousers are also good..."

"But?"

"But," you couldn't help but to laugh a little as you shrugged. "You're quite a distraction."

He rolled his eyes, putting the cup of tea to the side and gently taking your wrists in his hands, holding them to his chest. "I want to make a good impression."

"I know," you told him softly, daring to steal a quick kiss. "I don't doubt that you will... trust me, my family already told you when they wrote - Bain, Sigrid and Tilda are already part of us. Why wouldn't they accept you?"

"I look awful," he huffed.

"You look like a man that works on the barges," you said softly. "I don't want you to pretend to be something you're not just to make an impression. We're no better off than you are. They won't mind."

"I stink of fish," Bard huffed.

"And usually I stink of horse shit whenever I come over," you pointed out. "It's alright. Be your usual self. Please, even just for me?"

"Alright," he nodded, daring to smile. "Do you really like the coat that much?"

"Definitely," you grinned. "I wonder why you stopped wearing it so much."

Bard knew why, he wanted at least one half decent coat for whenever he was seen with you; he was proud to be a man of the people, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to look good for you. To look like he actually put in effort for once.

Even though you kept telling him that just being present was plenty enough effort for you. He knew how much you put in for him; helping the children with their studies and taking them out for meals and to visit different places.

Bard knew that you treated them like one of your own, and he was glad of it, really. But it was the effort you put in for him, as well. He wasn't stupid. Bard saw how you always paused at the bottom of the ladder to fix your clothes and to make yourself look presentable for him after spending all day on the farm.

He saw you change out of your boots and into a pair of somewhat better ones that you carried with you. He saw how you put in so much effort to look good for him.

"Suppose I just don't think about it," he said, daring to smile as he tugged you a little closer. "Maybe you can borrow it next time."

You put both hands on his chest, grinning at him as you nodded. "I'd like that... it's a shame the children can't come with us."

He nodded slowly. "I'm sure they would have liked to have come."

"As long as you're alright with my gran insisting that they eat tonnes of cake and sweets," you chuckled. "Maybe next time."

As outnumbered and nervous as he felt, Bard was actually glad that the children couldn't join in meeting your family; he would have hated it if he had disappointed them by making a bad impression, even if you were adamant that he would never.

There was always a chance; a wrong choice of words here, a stumble there, dropping something, not realising how things were done - he knew it was easy to make mistakes.

He was well aware that your family had expectations; you were only a few years younger than Bard, and he knew full well that you would be expected to take over the farm and to settle down and marry someone who would help.

You didn't seem to care, though, as whenever he brought it up, you admitted that you didn't mind if he wanted to stay in Lake-town as a bargeman. If he was happy, you were happy.

"I love you," Bard admitted quietly, bringing your hands to his lips and gently kissing your fingertips.

You grinned, sight getting a bit blurry as your face felt hot. You swallowed thickly. "That's the first time you said that..."

He paused, eyes widening as it dawned on him. "So it is."

"I love you, too," you whispered, gently pulling your hands from his grasp so that you could cup his cheeks, kissing him softly. "I love you... trust me, tonight is going to go just fine. They'll love you. Just be... you. Be the Bard I fell in love with, yeah?"

#mlem writes #bard the bowman x reader #bard x reader #bard x you #bard imagine #bard the bowman #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lotr x yn #lotr imagine #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings x yn #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings fluff #lord of the rings #luke evans x reader #luke evans imagine #luke evans fanfiction #luke evans fanfic #luke evans fic #luke evans

[strawwritesfic]

Bard x Female!Reader: Angst

Summary: Victory, though sweet, can always be tinged with the bitter taste of despair.

Rating/Tags: T (Soap Opera Disease; character death; during canon; not canon compliant; not anti-Bard’s canon wife; reader is not Bard’s canon wife; The Hobbit; human reader)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Notes: Please take note that I wrote this long before -- Oh. The Hobbit trilogy started coming out in 2012? Well, it doesn’t matter when this was written as compared to the movie releases, because I never saw the second or third movies anyway. The point is, I’m sure that things were portrayed very differently in the movie than I have portrayed them here.

Angst

It was over. At last Bard could release the long-held anxiety that burned within his lungs. It was over. All was quiet, save for distant crying. All was still, save those already sifting through the rubble. All was peaceful, save for the fires that continued to lick through broken windows. The dragon was slain. Laketown was safe. It was over.

Ash continued to drift from the slowly clearing sky, sticking to his dark hair and lashes as Bard stood in what remained of the town square. The taste of smoke and soot hung heavily in the air. No helpful breeze blew through to clear it, nor to cool the sweat beading his brow. He could have moved, perhaps, and felt something other than heat against his skin, but he did not. For the time being, he could do little but allow his mind to reel.

“Bard!”

The voice of the town healer stabbed through the haze like a dagger. Bard turned to see the man running toward him, stumbling on fallen boards as he went. There was something about that and his tone of voice that Bard did not like. His heart thundered, though he knew not what could be more terrible than staring down a dragon.

“You must come now,” said the healer, and Bard heard it for certain this time: panic.

He was falling into step beside the man to race back the direction he’d come from before Bard even thought to ask, “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“It’s…” the healer hesitated, then finally finished with a quiet, “[Name].”

There was no need for further explanation. Bard’s heart gave a great leap once more, then seemed to fall dead inside his chest. Unthinking, he picked up his already considerable pace still further. “Is she worse?”

“Considerably so. All the smoke and the excitement. I-I do not believe she will be with us much longer.”

They had reached Bard’s home. It was not your home, but the building was closer, and it was there he had sent you earlier that evening when you had so boldly strode into the midst of the battle. He pressed his hand against the door, but found he had not yet the courage to step inside. 

“There is nothing you can do?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing more.”

“Then leave us,” said Bard. “I will send for you when…when I am ready.”

“Of course.”

Bard did not wait to see his orders followed. They would be, he was sure of that. Already the people of Laketown were treating him differently. It was not exactly what he had envisioned for his simple life of smuggling, but face the change he would–and face it as he always did: alone.

Grim-faced, he slipped through the house’s narrow dark halls. He ought to have been grateful that this building continued to stand, that you could be comfortable in your final moments now that your home was in flames. Grateful was the farthest emotion from Bard’s person just then, however. All he could think about was that blasted dwarf king and that cursed dragon.

“You made it,” came a hoarse voice from inside the bedroom.

Bard entered to find the snug room lit with the last scrap of candle wax to his name. So be it. He could think of no better use for it, and, if he had his way, that so-called King of the Mountain would be paying enough to have Laketown swimming in the stuff in due time. But that was a thought for a different time.

“I made it,” he agreed as he settled into the empty stool the healer had pulled up by the bed. “Did you think I would not come?”

You smiled the same soft smile he had fallen for at first sight, the same smile that had made him wonder if love could come twice into his life somehow. Even now, it reached your eyes. 

“How is everything?” you asked.

That was not an answer to his question, but Bard didn’t push. Instead, he reached for your hands that rested on the covers. Already your fingers felt cold. 

“The battle is over,” he said as he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles. “Smaug is dead.”

“The town?”

“Still standing. Most of it.”

“And the children?”

“Safe,” he answered. It hurt his heart to think about them. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda had already lost their mother. Now on the cusp of finding someone to fill some of the hole left by her, that someone, too, passed on. Bard knew Tilda would take it the hardest; he dreaded telling her the news. “They will miss you.”

“I’ll miss them. And you. Most of all you.”

“You should not have come into the thick of things.” Perhaps Bard shouldn’t have said it. What was done was done. There was no changing your decision now, and you knew even better than he the fruits of your effort. “You were becoming well. Had you stayed put–”

“And burned alive without seeing you again? While the rest of the village died defending the town without me?”

“Smaug has been vanquished without you, and yet you lay dying,” Bard answered hotly.

He should not have been feeling so angry at your deathbed, but Bard could not help himself. Only now was the cold horror of seeing you out of bed, eyes blazing brighter than the fires the dragon spewed out, sinking in. There was nothing he could have done once he saw you; your death had been imminent from that point on. Only the thought of killing Smaug had distracted him.

Bard bowed his head. “Is this to be my reward? Losing you when everything should be rescued?”

A rough laugh spilled from your throat. “Maybe you’re right,” you said. “Maybe I just wanted one last adventure.”

Had you not seen him weep before? The tears had not yet sprang to his eyes, and still it was hard to force them up again. You smiled. Had Bard not watched you waste away these past months, he would not have known the pain you were in, would not have understood how close you were to fading away from him entirely. Your smile sweetened.

“I didn’t have much time left anyway. I’m glad to have spent the last of mine helping you, Bard. Not dying quietly in my own bed.” Slipping your hands out of his, you lifted one to cup his face. “You will be a magnificent king.”

“I never wanted the title.”

“I know. But now it is yours. I love you. I shall pass your love on to your wife when I see her.”

One of his hands lifted to hold yours against his cheek. He could not blink his tears away now, though his eyes were merely wet. Missing seeing you go would be unacceptable.

“I love you as well, [Name],” he said softly. “And I thank you. For everything.”

Grinning, you brushed your thumb against his skin. Over and over, and over and over, and over…and…over. Then nothing. The spark in your eye disappeared.  His breath came slowly in and out as he looked on, still grasping your hand. All warmth inside it was gone now. Bard closed his eyes before slowly lowering your hand to the bed. 

But he could not stay as he wanted. He could not even take the time to mourn. As you had reminded him, there was much work to do, and he was now the one to do it. He would not let your final words to him echo in his mind in vain.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #one shot #request #challenge fic #the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr #bard #bard the bowman #bard x reader #bard x you #bard x y/n #bard the bowman x reader #bard the bowman x you #bard the bowman x y/n #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x y/n #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #bard the bowman reader insert #bard reader insert #the hobbit reader insert

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Hey , i love your matchups 👍

Can i get a The Hobbit* male ,( and if its not to much a female*Lotr ) matchup

My Pronouns are She / Her (pansexual , ace ) , i'm 5'8 and my mbti is intp-t , my zodiac is pisces , my aesthetic would be dark academia and witchy like dark colors and long skirts and plattform boots .

i'm a person who is mostly alone or with my pets than with an other person , i love comedy and trash - TV and i have almost everywhere i go my headphones on , i love podcasts and music , i'm pretty funny and can be loud and open if i know i can trust people wich is hard because i have trust issues also ADHD , but i'm insecure and need someone i can rely on . I love baking , dancing and mostly i sit on a swing in my garden while i watch the sun go down , i love all my pets ( i have 6) , i would like to travel the world sonetime with someone , i always want to help people and want a harmonic surrounding , my love language is physical touch .

I don't like people who are closed and cold all the time , or talk behind others backs . Or someone who is overly protective and controlling .

All in all i need a person who is okay with with what they have , loyal , caring , can get me to laugh and smile and loves me with all their heart .

💜💜💜💜💜

( i'm sorry it's to short , or when there are any mistakes , English us not my first language )

hey that's no problem at all, this is absolutely long enough! i hope you enjoy your matchup!!!

also can i just say. after reading through your introduction a few times i um, you are scarily accurately me. this is probably of zero interest to you but you are really terrifyingly similar to me. still i focused on who i think would fit you (me? us? sorry i'll stop) best instead of who i dream of most so yeah. whatever you know

I ship you with...

Bard!

It's harmonic and quiet and calm at home, as always. And you love that, you do. But when your brother gets a surprise visit by a company of thirteen dwarves and decides not to help (in favour of his own harmonic and quiet and calm at home), you're physically incapable of not helping in his place. Helping is your thing, plus you feel like the dwarves should be able to enjoy that same peaceful quiet in a home the way you can, and the only way that could possibly happen is with your help. So you do help.

The first time you meet Bard you're wet and worn out on some big rock in the middle of a river. You've been through literal hell and you're definitely far from your best, but he's obviously attractive and for a second there you try to wring out your skirt and comb through your hair and make yourself look presentable again. Not that that you manage in the slightest, so you do your best to shrink into the background and stay quiet the way you usually do.

What follows is worse (you reek of fish and you don't think you'll ever fully recover from swimming through toilet water) so when you finally stand steadily on both your feet in Bard's home, you feel nauseous. But you push through and you clean yourself off and when Bard comes in to see you fight against disgusting wet clothing, he addresses you directly for the very first time. And that to offer you a bath and some of his daughter's dresses (if they fit you, of course).

Your brother is the only one who actually talks to Bard. The dwarves all aren't too fond of him, but Bilbo is happy about the first cultured person on this entire journey (no matter how fond he's become of the dwarves) and since you're mostly with him... well, you're mostly with Bard now, too. He holds good conversation, he's open and honest and he's funny too, quick-witted and sarcastic and if at first glance you were already a bit in love, now you definitely are. This isn't the right place or time in the slightest, but you're dry and cozy and he's tall (or maybe you're just tiny?) and intelligent and nice and you can't help yourself after that dreadful journey you went through. You wanted to travel the world, you did, but you'd stumbled into just a few too many vile creatures until now to actually have enjoyed it, so you liked the comfort of an actual home much more.

It wasn't particularly comfortable, of course, because there were thirteen dwarves with you and one of them was deadly injured, so in that helpful manner of yours that you'd shown so many times already, you did your best to help out Kili too. It's why you miss out on a mighty few things - Thorin and Bard verbally facing off, for example, and most of the party the master of Lake Town throws for the entire company, but it does mean that when eleven out of thirteen dwarves plus your brother go out to drink, you're pretty much left alone with Bard, who would rather have thrown himself off the Lonely Mountain than join in these festivities.

So when Bard sits in a corner, with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands and all his children are asleep and Kili is in some state of delirium and Fili is staring out of the windows at the party outside (not that he couldn't have gone, but he wanted to stay with his brother), you feel the overwhelming urge to somehow comfort him. You push back the gnawing insecurity in your mind, try to ignore your growing attraction to him and do your best to remind yourself of the fact that you've had quite a few conversations already, of the fact that he's nice and funny and apparently upset. So you talk to him.

You talk to him the entire night. At first it's to ease his discomfort, then it's to talk about anything and everything - to laugh and to smile and to forget about everything bad happening for a minute. Only when you yawn for the first time do you realise that it's way past midnight already, that even Fili has fallen into some kind of slumber by now and that you're actually really, really tired, and Bard smiles and tells you to go to sleep. And after a night of talking to this lovely man in front of you, you've come to trust him a bit - maybe that's irrational and maybe it's dumb, but he feels safe - so you end up with your head on his shoulder. He's still right there next to you when you wake up in the morning, his arm wrapped around your waist safely, and at first you recoil - you're not used to anyone touching you, not anyone but Bilbo. But this feels strangely comfortable, he's warm and cozy and after a second of shock, you decide to allow this to feel exactly that way. Maybe it's all a bit quick and you're definitely stressing about it - it's hard to let someone in and let someone touch you and trust them not to try and imprison and kill you like the last few times you were grabbed and manhandled, but all of that was rough and this is soft and deliberate. You've known this man for a few days now and you decide that that's enough to let him hold you like this. For just another few minutes.

That morning you face quite a hard choice. It's relatively easy in the end, but the thing you'd worked so hard for (reclaiming Erebor) stood in direct conflict with helping Kili not to die, so it took a bit of thinking and stressing for you and Bilbo to eventually come to an agreement - he'd go with Thorin to fulfill the part of the burglar, and you'd stay with the princes to look after Kili. It wasn't like you were a skilled healer or anything of the sort, but with all the pets you'd had over the years, you'd picked up on at least some things to do when someone was injured, and that was better than most things the dwarves could do. And luckily, even though he's certainly no fan of them, Bard is a decent human being, kind and empathetic, and he doesn't want anyone to die a horrible death, so he helps where he can, makes sure to get you everything you need and generally stays by your side until Tauriel shows up.

You pretty much collapse after that (you'd gladly helped Kili out, of course, but it had been straining to say the least), sinking into a little pile in a corner of the room and breathing in and out a few times, and then Bard is there right next to you, handing you water and bread and asking if he can hug you, and you look up at him and debate it - debate whether you're going to let this man in, this man who you've been talking and laughing with for over a week now, this man who has been nothing but kind and understanding and responsible, who may have opposed your entire journey, but with good reasoning - and besides, Thorin has barely been anything other than a complete arse, so you don't mind that much that Bard isn't totally fond of him.

So? Do you let him in? This man who ticks off all your boxes? Who's compassionate and loyal and helpful and reliable?

Of course. Of course you do. It's the one time you decide to bite the bullet, to push back the insecurities and the anxiety because he's here and he's been here, he's been there for you practically more than anyone else has, and that's only been the last week or so. You decide that yes, you trust him, you trust this hunk of a man, because he's asking for your consent instead of just touching you, because he's been making you laugh and luring you out of your shell step by step, because - yes, because he's here, right now, when you need him.

Smaug's attack and the battle that follows are a blur. Afterwards, you don't remember that much about it, and you're honestly not too mad about it. You remember Bard being a hero and a leader and a saviour - your saviour, specifically. You remember fighting and screaming and blood and the desire to help out, to help as much as you can, and you remember surviving. You remember the dread, the gut-wrenching dread because you weren't sure just who had survived - had Bard died? Had Bilbo? How many of the dwarves were still alive?

But then it all becomes crystal-clear. The hazy, foggy memories turn sharp and bright from one very particular moment on: That moment that the raging battlefield clears, that the screaming dies, that Bard returns to you with blood all over and a limp and a sword in his hand but alive, well and alive, breathing and with a beating heart. That moment that you drop everything you'd been holding, throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. Because he'd made it. Because you'd been terrified for him. Because, just maybe, you'd fallen in love with him.

Your brother is alive and so is the rest of the company, which makes the whole thing a little easier to deal with. At least there's no major death problems. While you were busy with your own little romance, your brother's now engaged to a king, so your home back in the Shire is available to you and to you only - and while Bard feels a responsibility to help rebuild his town, the promises of not one, but two kings (Thranduil included, of course) and a very powerful consort (your brother, that is) plus twelve other dwarves and a wizard are quite enough for him to realise that his people are in good hands, that the town will be restored and that until then, they will have food and water and shelter and so he takes his things and his children and goes back to the Shire with you.

It's a little small (a little a lot) and you have to make quite some changes, but it does work out in the end. It's new to all of you, of course, the whole situation - you've never been in love like that, but especially not with a man who already has children of his own, and it's not always easy to manage a relationship like this. But Bard is just a little too perfect for you not to give it your all, so you do exactly that. Bard loves nature and he loves animals and his kids do too, he loves the swing in your garden and so do they, he loves your baking and he loves to dance with you and he especially loves when Bilbo and Thorin visit, or when you visit them, because his children are occupied then and he can steal you away to a tavern or an inn and dance long into the night. He holds you in his arms and carries you wherever you could possibly want to go and if it were up to him, he would never let go of you again until the end of times.

#matchup #matchups #the hobbit #the hobbit matchups #bard #bard the bowman #hobbit #bard the bowman x reader

[mirkwoodshewolf]

TCATC Chap. 34; A new path ahead

*Author’s note*

And this is it guys, the last chapter of my Hobbit Celestial series. Now like I said I’ll post up some of the LOTR chapter’s I’ve got tomorrow since I’ve been working on that already, plus along with my requests I’ll try to put up some additional oneshots that fit into the inbetween moments between these two stories. 

Thank you all for the love and support of this series to all my of LOTR readers out there for your likes, reblogs etc. so enjoy the last chapter my lovely darlings and until tomorrow :)

SEQUEL CAN BE FOUND HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@byersboys​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

____________________________________________________________

I was in deep meditation up along the waterfalls high up in the mountains.  Not only was I meditating, I was also conversing and training with Mandos.  Some days when I wasn’t training my physicality, I would go off on my own to the mountains and seek council with them.  

And there they would help me to better understand my true power and what I can give to the folks of Middle Earth once I was ready to make my return.

I opened my eyes as I took a soft but deep breath in before exhaling.

“I take that your training with Mandos and Nienna is coming along well?” Cain’s voice spoke up.  I turned my head towards him and softly smiled.

“Aye. Never did I think I could learn so much from them. Much less ever speak to them.”

“Even when she doubted herself, Ajak would seek council with the Kings and Queens of the Valar. For just as they created us along with the all life on Middle Earth, they are there willing to seek council with us.” He said as he came up to me extending his hand to me.  I took it and he helped me stand up. “You’ve really come a long way since you first arrived.”

“Five years but there’s still so much for me to learn.”

“I agree. Don’t mistaken my praise for me wanting to be rid of you so fast. I’m merely stating the facts.”

“And here I thought you were starting to grow tired of me.”

“And cast out my dear, sweet baby sister? I wouldn’t dream of it.” Cain cooed as he brought me into his arms before playfully locking me in a headlock and ruffling my hair (much like Ikaris always did).  I whined but couldn’t help but laugh as I tried to free myself from his grip.  “Hope you don’t plan on leaving too soon.”

“Not a chance Brother.”

“Good. Now come along, you’ve been up here since before dawn and it’s now almost lunchtime.” He released me from his headlock before wrapping his arm carefully over my back and gesturing for me to come back to the cabin.  It was at that moment my stomach let out a loud growl to which Cain softly chuckled, “I don’t need to hear your heartbeat to tell that you’re not hungry.”

“Guess I wanted an early start on my training with Mandos and Nienna.”

“Well let’s fill that stomach of yours up with some proper food. After that you deserve a bit of a break. Remember what I said, work the mind too much—”

“And the body will succumb. I know, I know.” I repeated his statement as we both made the climb down the mountain and back to the cabin.

After getting some lunch I went out back to relax under the sun for a few hours on the hammock I had built.  It was after all a gorgeous Spring day.  Not too hot, but not too cold for that after winter chill.  The flowers were all in bloom and the birds were out and about singing their heads off.

My thoughts would go to my friends whenever I wasn’t training. Wondering what they were doing, how they were doing, if all was well in their life.  I tried my best to not think of the rising darkness I knew Middle Earth was facing with Sauron’s return, for that would only increase my anxiety which in turn makes Cain fret over me like Cersei times 100.

I had to have faith that Gandalf, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and the mortal kings and chiefs I’ve made friends with were able to hold their own until I felt ready to come back.

As the afternoon trudged on, it seemed to be about midday so I decided to head in and get some afternoon tea (I’d imagine that by now Bilbo is having his afternoon tea by now).  Just as I took a sip of my tea, Cain had returned from—somewhere (he didn’t tell me where he was going after lunch).

“And just where did you have to go that was so secret that you couldn’t tell me?” I asked him.

“If I told you it wouldn’t be surprise, now would it?” He said coming over to pour himself some tea.  I took the kettle away from him and argued.

“If you tell me, I’ll still act surprise.”

“You are a cheeky minx aren’t you?” he teased with a smirk pressing his forehead to mine.

“Come now brother won’t you please tell me?”

“After I have my tea, I’ll take you there.”

“Where are we going?” he didn’t say a word but just held out his teacup.  I poured him some tea and he took a small sip of it.  “You better not drink it agonizingly slow just to delay whatever or wherever it is you’re taking me to.”

“Now why would I do a thing like that sister Hela?” he playfully mocked placing his hand over his heart in mock hurt.  I set the kettle down and raised my brow at him as I placed a hand to my hip.

“Must I bring up last winter when you were training me to walk on water? First you showed off your fancy footwork then left me to practically fall in each time while you drank your tea. Which happens to be the exact brand I’m making now.”

“What can I say? While teaching you and loving you, I can’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle. Isn’t that what brothers are for?” he ruffled my hair once again and turned away to drink his tea.

“The one thing I didn’t miss about having brothers.” I muttered softly.

“I heard that.” He spoke up.  I groaned before returning to my tea and finishing it up.

When we cleaned up our glasses and put the tea aside for later, Cain and I left the cabin once more and headed back into the jungle however this time we headed North.

In the Northern part of the jungle, that’s where the large training ground he had built for us was.  Basically it was a wide open field with boulders of various sizes for balancing techniques and leaps as well as strength, a patch of dirt that encircled the outside of the meadow as a track, and close to it a fairly large lake that looked deeper than it appears.

“The Northern training fields? Why did you bring me here Cain?”

“I want to test you on something in regards to Druig’s powers.” He said as he walked forward.  I followed close behind him until we reached the Dark Lake (as what I’ve called it).  “It is said by some of our Elemental brothers and sisters, that water holds memory. Memories that sometimes even we forget, or what we wish to see.”

“Yes. Cersei used to tell me, Makkari and Sprite that all the time when we were young.” He nodded softly.  “But what does this have to do with Druig’s powers?”

“Touch the water.” I looked at him puzzled.  He turned his head towards me, his glowing white eyes staring at me.  “Reach out with Druig’s power and give the water a single touch.” I looked down at the water and did as he said.

My index finger touching the water with the lightest of pressure as the ripples formed out and grew bigger and bigger.

“Now look hard and tell me what you see.” I leaned closer to the water as the ripples continued to extend outward, even after a good minute and a half from when I first touched the water.  Soon an image before to replace my reflection in the water.  A man’s face soon appeared, my hair was soon replaced with long black, unruly hair, a tache with a slight beard at his chin. And deep brown eyes.

“Bard.” I softly whispered his name.  I pulled myself back up and fully turned my body towards Cain.

“Close your eyes.” I tilted my head but he gave me a firm nod. I obeyed and closed them.  “Along with how Druig could one day view the world had he gotten the chance to do so, this is how I see Middle Earth. Reach out with both your mind and your spirit to put yourself before Bard. Hone in on his heartbeat, see yourself where he’s at. Like a Watcher from the White Towers of Gondor, allow yourself to see him from here.”

“Cain I—I don’t know if I……”

“I know you can. You just need to believe you can. The only thing stopping you is yourself. Focus and reach out to him.” I did as he told me.  However this was something far beyond anything I’ve ever been able to do, he even said that not even Druig has gotten the chance to use this technique.

I tried to see if I could reach out to Bard but all I was doing was giving myself a headache.  I let out a couple of pants before trying again.  However no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do it.

“I can’t…..Cain I can’t.” I panted softly as I rubbed my temples trying to ease my headache.  I felt him reach out to take my hands and I looked up to him.  A soft smile was across his face and even though his eyes were as blank as snow, they held a gentleness to them.

“You’re force yourself to see him, let your mind flow. And let it guide you to him.” He took my hands down and rested them between us, his thumbs stroking my knuckles as he took a deep breath in and I copied him. We both exhaled deeply at the same time and I closed my eyes.

I kept taking a few deep breaths and focused on Druig’s gem once more.  I imagined Bard and the city of Dale (from what I remembered it looking like before). Suddenly I felt this warmth overcome me and my eyes shot wide open and a flash of bright light came at me.

*Cain’s POV*

I may not have been able to truly see it, but I could tell that Hela’s eyes had glowed the pure gold that is known to happen when we Celestials use the full extent of our powers.  Ajak called it Mahd Wy'ry.  I reached up and touched her temples and I allowed myself to see through her eyes.

*My POV*

When the light died down I found myself standing before Dale but it was just like it was back in its glory days.  Wait did I—did I accidentally travel back in time? Oh Valar I really screwed up now, wait hold on a moment.

I walked ahead and took notice of some of the people that were in the city.  These were the survivors of Laketown and their families, plus new children that had been born here since last I was here.  Over there, there was Hanna and her son Caleb who was growing up into a fine young man with his blonde hair and blue eyes.

He did it. Bard actually did it.  He restored Dale to its full glory once again!

“Come now Caleb we must get to the palace at once. We can’t be late for the Coronation.” Hanna told her son as she grabbed his hand. Coronation, wait they don’t mean—

“I knew all along he could do it. First the dragon, then the battle for the Mountain, then reforging this city and now King. Oh Bard you have done us all proud laddie.” Hilda Blanca spoke as she came in wearing a much cleaner and finer dress and pushing a cart with the finest silks that I’ve only seen at Gondor or Rivendell.

“Surprised?” Cain’s voice soon came beside me.  I turned over to him and said.

“This is Bard’s Coronation as King, isn’t it?”

“Aye.” He replied with a soft nod and a warm smile.  “Ever since you told me about this man, I’ve been keeping tabs on him. I can see now why you’ve stuck around him and his ancestor Girion. They are both honorable men. Thinking of others before themselves.”

“That’s what also made them great friends. Even when most of the mortals would bow before me like some God, I didn’t wish for that all the time. It wasn’t until Girion that he came to respect me for me, and not just for my creation. Same with Bard.”

“Come. We best get to the castle if you wish to see your friend be crowned King.” He took my hand then much like how I’ve seen the world pass by when I would use Makkari’s speed, we were suddenly at the Great Hall.

From the ceiling to the floors everything was decorated for the ceremony.  A large banquet was prepared and dozens upon dozens of barrels filled with ale and wine were being brought out.  We walked out of the banquet hall and soon stood before the throne room.

Already hundreds of people were starting to gather around waiting for the arrival of their new King.  Cain and I took a spot at the very corner of where the throne stood on top of three stairs, and at its side two grand staircases.

“I—I can’t even…..this is—”

“I know. It’s a lot to take in. I know it was the first time I ever did it, although for me I can only sense the aurora and heartbeats of everyone.”

“No. Well I mean yes this ability in itself is hard to put into words. What I meant was—my friend Bard. A man whom I’ve known to be born and bred a Bargeman, a descendent from a King. A king of this very city no less, is reclaiming his family’s rightful place on the throne of Dale. I’d never thought I’d live to see this day. Thank you brother.”

“I knew how special he is to you little sister. Even if you couldn’t be there in person to see him crowned, I felt it’s only fair that you at least get to see it with your own eyes, even if it’s through spiritual means.” Soon the horns began to sound off.  Everyone soon quietened down as they turned towards the two grand staircases that stood on either side of the throne.

Coming down the other staircase furthest away from us I looked up and smiled warmly, for coming down the steps arm and arm of each other were Bard’s children.  Bain, Sigrid and Tilda who were now much older and taller when last I saw them.

Sigrid looked every bit like her mother as she now held a mature woman’s face.  Her hair done up in an elegant wave and she wore a floor length light grey dress. Bain looked to be just as tall (maybe even taller) than his father now.  His hair longer and he was starting to grow out some facial hair.  His face now showing the signs of a boy coming into manhood and he wore a royal green tailcoat with some gold embroidery of leaf circlets along the front of the vest, white trousers, and underneath the green vest he wore a blue Jodhpur suit and a stunning blue cravat tied around his neck along with some black boots.

And Tilda.  Sweet little—well I guess I shouldn’t call her little anymore.  She was starting to become a young lady now standing right up to Sigrid’s height now.  She wore a dark navy blue floor length dress and her hair so curled up that it bounced to the tips of her shoulders.

“The three young royal heirs! Princess Sigrid, Prince Bain, and Princess Tilda.” An announcer proclaimed loud and proud as Bard’s children continued to walk down the stairs with grace, poise and elegance.  

They stood before the crowd and either bowed or did a deep curtsey and everyone did the same thing back to the young heirs, giving forth their faith and respect for the future rulers of Dale.  The children soon stood on either side of the throne and soon the doors in the back opened up.

The sound of drums playing as the royal guard soon came marching in rows of two.  The young Captain of the Guard counting off each step with a loud and proud exclamation as they marched further into the Great Hall between the audience.  The captain soon called out ‘Halt!’ and the royal guard stopped.

“About face!” the two rows of guards turned towards the soldier in the other row.  Their stances tall and stiff and their faces stoic and firm.  The horns soon sounded off again as the royal band now began to play and everyone directed their attention upwards towards the other staircase.

Soon coming out dressed in full regal red and black, his hair now slightly shorter and well-groomed back.  His face clear of the dirt and grim he’d had to endure from Laketown but his eyes held the wisdom of a man that had seen a lot, endured and persevered.  It was my dear friend Bard.

He turned towards all of us and with pride in his step, he slowly descended from the staircase.  My heart soared with joy and proudness for my beloved Bargeman.  I know that he’ll be a great King as will his son, and the rest of his descendants to come (like I know it would’ve been had Smaug not lay waste to the city and killed Girion).

Bard finally reached the bottom of the staircase and the people of Laketown bowed before their new king while his children gave their father a proud and happy smile.  Bard acknowledged each and every one of his people as well as his children as he was guided to the throne by none other than Percy.

Bard first had his back towards his people as he approached the throne then finally turned to face everyone as he slowly sat down.  Percy then gave to Bard the refurbished (probably thanks to my Dwarf friends of Erebor) the Staff of the King and the Sovereign’s Orb. Bard took each of these in the respect hand and then being brought out by Gale was the crown.

A beautiful golden crown with a 3 pointed oak leaf on each tip of the crown.  A bright shaped star at the bottom center of the crown with a single ruby placed at its center, and intricate spines going along the crown in the Infinity symbol, symbolizing the crown bearer’s eternal reign in History, no matter how much time has passed.

Percy took the crown from the velvet pillow Gale had it on and showed it before us all as he came over to Bard and placed it on top of his head.  All the while, Hilda soon came up and spoke to Bard before the audience.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Dale according to the statures of your Council and Advisors and the respected members of your kingdom? Will you in your power cause law and justice in mercy. To be executed in all judgements?” Percy stepped down as Bard turned towards each of his children who gave him a nod.

“I solemnly promise so to do.” Bard replied.  He soon stood up from his throne, the Staff and Orb still in his hand as the band began playing another song and from the upper balcony, the choir soon sang the royal coronation song of the King of Dale.

“Present arms!” the Captain cried out as the soldiers withdrew their swords and held them outward.  Bard then walked between the row of soldiers.  I left Cain’s side and walked through the crowd keeping my eyes on Bard until both he and I reached the end of the row as the song came to an end.

I walked around and stood before him, my eyes brimming with pride as well as tears just as three loud bangs were heard from a staff. It was then the same royal announcer proclaimed to the audience.

“Presenting; his Majesty. Bard descendant of Girion, King of Dale!” a solemn smile came at the corner of Bard’s lips as he closed his eyes and took it all in.  There was no going back now, but when his eyes opened and I saw that fierce and determined look in his eyes, I knew he was ready.

He no longer needed me to guide him anymore but I would still keep my tabs on him.

I bowed down to my very knees before him and I whispered to him.

“I knew you could do it my dear bargeman. Become the Great King I know you’ll be.” As I looked up at him, the vision began to fade and the bright light consumed me once more.

I let out a gasp and panted heavily and Cain’s voice and touch brought me back to earth.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths. It’s alright, it’s alright.” I looked up at Cain and immediately embraced him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for allowing me to see him crowned on his big day.” Cain embraced me back.

“I had hoped you would reclaim some control of Druig’s power before that time. All you needed was just a bit of help to see how I view the world.”

“I—again I don’t know how to thank you. If I were ready to go back, there’s no doubt I’d be there in person to see him crowned.”

“I know. And I know he knows that too, but he understood why you had to leave. And there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll see your friend Bard again in the near future.”

“You think so?”

“I know my sister all too well. You have such a kind heart, and unlike the rest of our kin you’ve always formed a true connection with every race of Middle Earth.” He cupped the side of my face, gently wiping away a tear.

“I know he’ll do great things. Just like Girion.”

“As do I sister, as do I.”

Years and years went by after Cain’s surprise.  Every day I was growing stronger in my Celestial magic, not just with my sibling’s magic but my own as well.  With my own powers I’ve finally accepted my role as the Celestial of Death and had a better understanding of my powers and didn’t need to feel afraid to use it.

Cain and I also continued to grow closer with each other. Like I had said before, whilst I was here training and doing my own healing, I noticed how Cain was starting to accept his grief too.  Whenever he went out to Harad to do his good deeds, he wasn’t as rageful as before but he still made his threats very clear to anyone who did the innocent harm.

There was no longer a festering bubble of regret, rage, sorrow or guilt anymore within him.  He felt at peace with himself (I’ll also admit that I allowed his beloved Yvaine’s spirit to speak through me as well as his children).  That day especially seemed to allow Cain to forgive himself for what happened on that Mountain during the Fall of Gondolin.

Now there was a different feeling festering inside of me. I stood on top of the Mountain cliffs that overlooked the entire jungle and I knew that it was time.

“You’ve been feeling it for a while, haven’t you?” Cain said as he walked up to me and stood by my side at the edge of the cliff.

“I can never hide anything from you.”

“Even without my enhanced senses I could probably tell just from the structure of your facial muscles.”

“I didn’t know how to break it to you gently without hurting your feelings.” Cain touched my shoulder and I turned to face him.

“It’s been a total of 20 years since you’ve came to me. 20 years that we’ve gotten to finally know one another. There is nothing you could do that could hurt me. It is time.”

“For the Celestial of Death to make her return to Middle Earth.” A determined smirk came across Cain’s face as the winds began to shift. My destiny awaiting and the winds changing in my favor.

We were back at the cabin and I was packing away a few things for my trip until I would reach the next town or kingdom I would come across. Cain also gave me a silver ring with a black gem at the center.

He told me that this ring would conceal my true power from Sauron until the time was right.  And that I alone would decide when I would show the world my true strength. As I packed up the last of the food in my pack I turned to Cain and said.

“Can I be honest though brother?” he nodded.  “I—honestly have no idea where to go first.” He softly chuckled and said.

“If I may make a suggestion; head to Rohan. King Thengel is its current ruler. Ask to join among his ranks. But there is also a young soldier there that you should meet.” I tilted my head in interest.  A soldier? “You were once well acquainted with his father Arathorn. And I know you saw him to be a good man much like you did Bard, now it is time the son met you and saw you as a friend and ally.”

I smiled at the mention of Arathorn’s name.  I knew he had bared a son but I was never told of his child’s name.

“What is his name?” I asked.

“He’s serving under the name of Thorongil in King Thengel’s army. In the Wild, he’s known as Strider. His true name—you must earn that knowledge for yourself.” I nodded as I hung the pack over my shoulder.

“Thank you Cain.” I said sincerely.  “For everything.” My chin wobbled before I raced over and embraced him tightly.  He held onto my with just as much strength as I was holding him, burying his face into my neck.

“Remember this Sister Hela; should you ever need me. Look to the moon. And know that I will always be watching over you in your travels.” I nuzzled my face into his chest before we looked at each other once more. His hands mapping out my entire face one last time as tears ran down both our faces until he pressed his forehead and nose against mine.

I closed my eyes and drew in his strength as well as his scent trying to remember this moment with my brother.  Who knows when I’ll be able to see him again.  His hand cupped the back of my head as he pressed a lingering and loving kiss on my forehead.

“May the Valar and the spirits of our kin protect you.” He said in Celeste.

“My heart will weep till we meet again brother Cain.” I replied back to him.  He smiled solemnly before giving me another kiss to my forehead and pressing his forehead against mine once again.

After what felt like an eternity of bidding each other farewell with kisses and affectionate Celestial gestures, I separated from him and walked away from him.  I didn’t even bother using Makkari’s speed until I was well out of the jungle (hoping for more time to remember all the good memories I had here these past 20 years with my brother).  Then once I was in the clearing, I took off with such speed, I swear I might’ve done a sonic boom.

*Cain’s POV*

It took every ounce of my will power to not keep Hela here at my side.  I knew she was strong—no stronger than any Celestial before her (she might even be stronger than Ajak herself).  I knew not to worry for her safety but—as a brother you can’t help but worry for your younger siblings.

I heard her take off using Makkari’s Celestial speed and I knew then that she was gone to fulfill the duties of us Celestials.  I bowed my head solemnly taking a sharp breath in through my nose as a tear slid down my face.

I then turned back and headed back inside my cabin and praying to my beloved Yvaine to help me watch over my little sister in her travels and to keep her safe.

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #bard the bowman #bard the bowman x reader #bard the bowman imagines #bard the bowman imagine #bard the bowman x oc #bard x oc #bard imagine #bard imagines #bard x reader #fili #fili durin #fili x reader #fili x oc #fili imagine #fili imagines #fili fanfic #fili fanfiction #kili #kili x oc #kili x reader #kili durin #kili imagine #kili imagines #kili fanfic

[like-a-bottleofwine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Reader Characters: Bard the Bowman, Reader, You Additional Tags: fisherman!Bard, secretive!reader, Cancer diagnosis, Proposals Series: Part 10 of would you have me? would you want me? Summary:

angst: "how did you find out?"

Thanks to Bard's job on a fishing boat, the two of you haven't seen each other in more than a month, and both of you have news to share. You know yours is bad. Is it wrong of you to hold out hope for his?

#bard the bowman #bard the bowman x reader

[itsonlydana]

"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist + 

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

#thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #bard the bowman #bard hobbit #bard x reader #bard x thranduil #thranduil smut #thranduil oropherion #bard smut #barduil #barduil smut #lord of the rings smut #lotr smut #hobbit smut #thranduil x bard #thranduil

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Ideal fantasy lives with ideal fantasy men

#Boromir #Boromir x reader #legolas #Legolas x reader #ideal #fantasy #Tolkien #lotr #the hobbit #bard the bowman #bard the bowman x reader #Haldir #Haldir x reader #eomer #eomer x reader

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Bard looking for you after the destruction of Laketown...

“Da, Y/n saved us.” Sigrid informed as she pulled back from her father’s hug. “We were sailing out and a beam started to swing towards us and Y/n jumped off the boat to stop it so we could get out. They went under the water. You have to find them.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” He told his three kids, all of whom looked at him with something akin to disappointment and shock. 

“Da.” Bane stepped forward. “We’ll be okay. You should make sure Y/n is safe.”

Bard didn’t want to leave them but his heart ached at the thought of you being missing. Giving his children a parting kiss, he left them in the capable hands of Tauriel the Elf before running off to where people were washing up on the sand. 

His new focus being to find the person who stole the heart of his whole family. 

“Y/n!” He called out. “Has anyone seen Y/n?” 

He was either ignored or faced with people shaking their heads. No one he came across had heard of your whereabouts and it filled his stomach with dread and fear. You meant everything to his children - to him. 

Then, he saw you. When he laid eyes on you, his mind forgot about the rest of the world. Storming over, he swept you into his arms and placed a hard kiss over your mouth. “You’re alive.” He whispered.

Still reeling from the attack and now dazed from the kiss, you were about to speak but Bard’s eyes travelled up to the large wound on your forehead.

“You’re hurt.” He frowned, with no time to waste. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Bard. The children...” 

“They’re safe.” 

You let out a sigh of relief and sank into his chest. “I tried to get them out but I was trapped under the surface.”  

Bard held you close, his clothes were still damp but his body radiated heat and comfort. “I know. Thank you.”

You managed a small smile amidst the chaos and revelled in Bard’s warmth while you could. Despite making it out of the dragon fire, the icy water of Laketown rattled your bones.  

“It doesn’t mean that I’m not upset with you.” Bard said suddenly. 

Frowning, you peeled yourself off him with utter confusion. Bard’s eyes were staring back and there was a flash of disappointment on his eyes. 

“The kids almost lost you.” He explained. But as quick as his anger came, it changed back to something soft and familiar. Bard leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours, his nose brushing lightly before his lips ghosted above your own almost like a tease. “I almost lost you.” 

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #bard x reader #bard imagine #the hobbit x reader #hobbit x reader #hobbit imagine #the hobbit imagine #bard the bowman imagine #bard the bowman x reader

[mlmxreader]

Dragon's Tongue | Bard x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi!

Can I request the prompts “Take it, I want you to have it” With Bard please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ Bard doesn't mind being in a relationship with a soldier, especially not one that's lost absolutely everything.

: ̗̀➛ violence & death, angst

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You coughed weakly as you started to stir, heat rising and bubbling from your stomach up to your face as you stretched and looked over next to you; Bard was still sound asleep, lying on his stomach with his arm draped across your stomach, his fingers splayed out so he could feel the rise and fall as you breathed.

You almost felt bad for it, in all honesty. Being awake so late while he was so sound. But you couldn't help it. The life of a soldier was an entirely different world than that of a bargeman, after all.

Everything you had seen, you could still picture it so clearly. You did your duties, you paid the price of a mile ten thousand times over - yet it felt like it had all been in vain.

Lucky to be alive, you were one of the few that survived from your regiment; one of the few to be saved by the very thing that Bard had been born to kill.

You had spent years defending a dragon that slept soundly within the mountains of a small island; you could still hear the steady rise and fall of its great breath, an earthquake beneath your feet, when it slept.

You could still feel the heavy vibrations when it grumbled and alerted you to danger. It wasn't like any other dragon; it had given its life to defend the people of part of the small island.

Towering in stature, its winged seemed to form two massive mountains on their own, its legs thicker than any stone or metal you had ever known. The smallest of its sharp and pointed teeth was still longer than you were tall.

But its red scales, shimmering in the golden hour sun, were always so beautiful. Brilliant crimson and ruby shades mixed with garnet and merlot. Its eyes were angular, and its tongue formed a massive pointed arrow at the end, almost identical to its tail.

Its great claws were able to tear apart even the heaviest of stones, and the spikes that littered its body seemed denser than anything else you could have imagined. The dragon never hurt anyone, though. It seemed to know who its people were, and was only ever hostile to outsiders.

You had spent years guarding it, keeping it safe. The dragon's tongue was always more natural when leaving your mouth, as opposed to the language of men.

The sword that currently sat at the beside, now dulled and neglected, had once been pulled from a lake by that massive beast, who had insisted that you needed it. It never said when, or why. But you did find out.

You found out the day that they attacked from the east. Men, armed to the teeth and with gnashing and gnawing accents, Men, who wanted to take over the part of the island that you belonged to, and would stop at nothing to take it.

They outnumbered you, and they had more artillery; you and your men would never have survived, if it hadn't been for that dragon.

It had fulfilled its promise, coming to aid its people when they needed it most; using its massive tail and claws to take down as many as it could - but it did not expect them to have catapults, and nor did it expect them to use them to chain it down.

By the time it had broken free of its chains, you and your men had all but entirely been wiped out by the men. The dragon had managed to fend them off for long enough for the survivors to flee, but heavily injured, you never got far.

But what those men did to your home... you could never forgive such animosity. Such beastly and inhuman actions.

They had taken everything. They banned the dragon's tongue, and anyone who was caught uttering even a single word had been beaten and bruised to the point of near death.

They took your homes, demanding that they owned them, and forcing you out of your own lands. They outlawed your practices - culture, traditions, holidays. Everything.

That poor dragon, who had given its life to defend you and your people, was trapped inside the mountain.

They promised that it would never come back, that they would slaughter everyone if it did.

Lake-town was your best option. Far enough from those men that you could feel safe, yet close enough that you didn't miss your home too much. Even though it wasn't your home anymore. Even though they had destroyed every ounce of your home.

Bard, despite his distrust and distaste for the beasts, had encouraged you to teach him and his children the dragon's tongue - he picked it up well enough, although you still had to wonder off a few times.

Sometimes it was too much to remember that you once had a lovely, beautiful home; situated within deep Valleys near the mountain. Near the river that ran through the part of the island that you and your men had given your lives to protect.

But Bard had never been anything but understanding. A soldier, you were never really used to kindness. You were never used to a gentle touch and a soft kiss. But Bard changed that. You would trust him with anything, everything.

He stirred what he felt you move, shifting around to lie on his side as he let out a long yawn and looked at you with such horrible softness in his eyes.

"The mountain?"

You nodded, a little surprised when you swiped a hand down your face and felt something wet near your eyes. "Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd, tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed..."

Bard nodded, frowning as he moved a little closer, looming up at you and daring to smile sadly. "So did you."

You shook your head, clearing your throat. "I should be dead. I should've died in... in my home..."

It was a particular kind of homesickness, Bard knew that better than anyone. The type of homesickness that wasn't just limited to a place; it was missing a language, a culture, traditions. People.

The true meaning of home. It was never about a place, it was never about those beautiful Valleys or that deep, blue river or those cold rocky mountains. It was about the humanity. It was about what had been stolen so violently. It was about the people.

There wasn't much Bard could do, except get up as he hummed under his breath. He grabbed his leather and fur coat, and tossed it over to you as he dared to flash you a quick smile.

"We'll go sit outside, come on."

You nodded, tugging it on and inhaling his scent for a moment before falling into step beside him and standing by the front door.

"I used to think it was funny," you mumbled. "I was born to protect a dragon - you were born to kill one."

Bard smiled as he laughed softly, daring to take your hand in his. "Why don't you think it's funny anymore?"

You shrugged, swallowing thickly. "I love you too much to care about the difference anymore..."

"Are you feeling alright?" He whispered, getting close enough so that his lips were beside your ear.

You shook your head. "I don't know... is that bad?"

"No," he said quietly. "The children are all put tomorrow in the morning... what do you say you come to work with me?"

"Won't I distract you?"

"No," Bard hummed. "It might do you some good, get you back onto lakes and rivers... besides, you can wear my coat again."

"I couldn't-"

"Take it, I want you to have it," he told you gently. "Please."

#mlem writes #bard the bowman #bard x reader #bard imagine #bard #bard the bowman x reader #bard the bowman imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit an unexpected journey #the hobbit desolation of smaug #the hobbit battle of the five armies #the hobbit #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lotr imagine #lotr fic #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings

[kingofvipers]

The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes #4

Teen!M/n: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Bard: Those are wanted posters!

#x male y/n #funny #incorrect quotes #x gn reader #x teen!reader #fluff #platonic #the hobbit #bard bowman #the hobbit x male y/n #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit incorrect quotes

[wild-lavender-rose]

Bard x Reader with the prompt where Reader received bad news or is getting overwhelmed and Bard heard them crying, going to comfort them?

I've had this in my inbox for ages and I'm so excited that I'm finally inspired enough to write for this prompt! I hope you love it, anon :)

You cover your mouth to stifle your sobs, trying desperately to keep the children and Bard from hearing. The vegetables you were trying to prepare for their supper lie before you half cut. The pot of water in the hearth was beginning to boil over. You had been doing your best ever since your family had been slaughtered by Smaug, pretending that the whole in your heart wasn't there. But it was there, and it ached horribly.

Heavy boots sounded behind you. Bard. You clapped both hands over your mouth and shut your eyes against the tears. Gods, you didn't want him to see you like this. So weak and small and scared.

He called your name, crossing to you. You stiffened as he touched you, his hands on your arms.

"Let the girls finish supper," he rubbed your arms gently, the sensation warm and gentle and overwhelming.

You allowed him to turn you around, hands moving up to cradle your face. "Listen to me. It's all right to cry. There is no shame."

You began to cry harder. Bard eased you into his arms, holding the back of your head as you grabbed at his coat and screamed in grief.

"No shame," he whispered, rocking you gently. "No shame at all."

Fanfic Masterlist

#the hobbit #the hobbit bard the bowman #the hobbit bard #bard #bard x reader #bard x you #bard x y/n #bard the bowman #bard x you hurt comfort

[lilredniki]

Wide awake

Prompt: Why are you awake right now?

Character: Bard the Bowman

Y/N sighed as she stood on the balcony watching the stars shine in the water.

She tried to sleep but the little one growing within her was wide awake.

Bard walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her resting his hands on her growing stomach.

“Why are you awake right now?”

Y/N smiled and leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder.

“Your child won’t stop kicking.”

Bard sighed as he felt the child kick at his hands.

“I’m sorry my love.”

#the hobbit #x reader #bard the bowman #bard x reader #pregnant reader

[scary-grace]

I want to write a barduil Christmas fic. Someone please prompt me (not with one of the big AUs if possible.)

#barduil #bard the bowman #Thranduil #bard x Thranduil #/screams: help I’ve fallen into the x reader hole and I can’t get up/ #I just want to write some barduil IN ADDITION #clown hours

[danger-xylophones]

Hey! I hope you're having a good day/night <3 I had a LOTR and/or The Hobbit headcannon request but if you're not taking those rn I understand <3 How various characters would react to a friend (reader) who is very emotional (like, the type of person who when they find something funny they LAUGH HARD, has deff. been kicked out of public places for fighting people who made them angry, and gets teary eyed even over the death and suffering of animals and total strangers) Any character is fine, I love them all, but please include Gandalf (he's SO COOL! and I feel like he doesn't get included in hcs enough but idk-) Thank you <3 :)

Howdy, I am still taking requests it just takes me awhile to get around to them.

I also agree Gandalf should show up more.

Gandalf:

Gandalf adores you

You are unequivocally one of his favorite people

And that's saying a lot considering he's been around for centuries

He loves how expressive you are and wishes more people were as free with their emotions, he thinks that maybe some problems in middle-earth could be solved if people were just more open about how they're feeling

Of course, he acknowledges that your propensity for expression can be a danger at times

He would never wish for you to stop being so expressive, but he does wish you'd quit getting kicked out of bars

It makes it hard to go get a drink with you because you're banned from a lot of places for 'roughhousing'

He's keen to have you meet Radagast, he thinks the two of you would get along swimmingly

I will add he's hesitant to smoke anything other than pipeweed with you - I mean, you're already prone to heightened emotions when sober, he's a bit scared to see what happens when you've got some for of recreational substance in you.

You're the first person he wants to show any new fireworks he learns to make to because you let your enchantment with the party favors shine through unabashedly

Beorn:

Beorn was initially a bit put off by you

He's very quiet and used to the company of animals who normally don't laugh when he cracks a joke to himself

But he warms up to you when he sees just how deeply you care for anyone and anything

He took you on a walk one day and you started crying because you found a tree that'd been scorched by a lighting bolt

And again when you were so gentle and tender with one of his horses that suffered a bad scrape on its side

He starts to open up a bit when you're around

It's not that noticeable but the jokes he normally cracks to himself are now loud enough for you to hear

He looks forward to your sporadic visits now

Legolas:

Being an elf who was raised to keep a stoic countenance, he finds your expressiveness odd but a welcome change

The first time he cracked a joke that made you laugh he was worried you'd asphyxiate

Gandalf had to be the one to explain that you were just like that, that you felt things a bit differently from others

It takes Legolas a bit to get used to just how strong your emotions are

He happened to be in a bar with you when you got kicked out once, he was worried he'd be helping you bury a body before the end of the night

He understands your empathy for animals though, as that is something he can say he feels deeply

Elves share a special bond with all life and though they are often spared by death, that does not mean witnessing it ever gets easier

He eventually learns to appreciate your expressiveness as a gift few can claim to have

Galadriel:

Galadriel is very fond of you

You remind of her of her younger self who was more wild and willing to let her feelings shine through

She loves it when you tell her stories of your life

Your still just as emotive while recounting your journeys with Gandalf to her as you probably were while traveling

She's a bit jealous of you though, as she wishes she could show her emotions as freely as you do

You're a breath of fresh air for her

As the Lady of Lothlorien, she has a certain countenance she must uphold and that stoicism is often repaid with aloofness from her fellow elves

But you remind her she is also a person, same as you, and that she feels too

Gimli:

Whenever you get tossed out of a bar, Gimli's often right there with you

He's also loud and expressive

You can hear his laugh through the clamor of a filled tavern and his temper has also gotten his name blacklisted at a few mead halls

He thinks of you're pretty dwarvish, which is high praise to him

Dwarves are passionate folk and that passion is celebrated because it takes great emotions to ring art from stone

He does feel a bit awkward if he sees you cry only because it takes a lot to make dwarves cry

So he's a bit clumsy if he tries to comfort you

But he loves that he can find you in a crowd if he pauses to listen for a laugh

Bard:

Bard doesn't know how to feel about you, if he's perfectly honest

You remind him of his children who are still learning how to control their temperaments

And his initial thought is that you're too immature

However, when he does finally sit down and talk to you he's quick to realize that this supposed 'immaturity' is something he completely fabricated

You're incredibly intelligent, emotionally and intellectually

And he soon realizes he made a grave mistake judging you so early on

He comes to love just how boisterous your laugh is

It becomes enough for him to start laughing just hearing you laugh

He's still learning how to handle you're more fiery emotions

But he's a loyal friend who'll stick with you even when you get the both of you kicked out of the bar

#lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #gandalf #bard the bowman #legolas #gimli #galadriel #beorn