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#the hobbit x reader smut
kiatheinsomniac · 11 months
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How about sleepy early morning sex with Thranduil?👁👁prettyprettyplease
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──── 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -
☾ ⋆ ゚𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I feel like it's been forever since I last write for Thranduil 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Thranduil x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.3k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, morning sex, riding, slight overstimulation, creampie.
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You wake to the sensation of kisses being peppered across your cheeks as morning light pours in through the window, bathing you in a pool of liquid gold. The warmth heats your skin with the aid of your lover's body which is half draped over yours . One of his arms crosses over your body palm pressed to the soft surface of the mattress in order to prop himself up as his pillowy lips plant kisses across your face in order to rouse you from sleep. 
You groan as you wake but the corners of your mouth quirk up in a smile when you realise that the first thing you feel this day is your husband’s affection. Your arms reach up to wind around his neck and thread your fingers through his gossamer hair, tugging just a little at the hair at the base of his head as you arch your back up to press your chest to his, delighting in the warm press of his skin upon yours. He begins to kiss you with more fervour now that you’re awake and you sigh against his lips as your mind begins to wake up. 
You let out a little giggle when you feel him press to your thigh and your eagerness only seems to spur him on as he reaches beneath the curve of your spine to pull you on top of him when he turns onto his back. His hair fans out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo of starlight and you smile sleepily down at him. 
“Good morning, meleth nîn~ (my love)” You drawl out with a little smile on your face as you lean down to pour kisses down his cheek and the slope of his jaw. His strong arms coil around your waist and you bask in the warmth of the sunlight pouring over your bed and heating your bodies as your skin presses to his. You allow yourself to simply rest atop him for a while as your nose nudges against his neck and you feel one of his hands lift up to sweep your hair from your shoulder.
“Indeed, a good morning it is…” He murmurs against the side of your head, pressing a kiss there. Beneath the sheets, your legs shift so that they bracket his hips and you slowly rise up as you set your palms down flat on his chest to support your balance. The sheet crumples and falls down your back, pooling around your hips and giving your husband quite the view considering the two of you are still bare from last night’s activities. 
You let out a low groan as you slowly, sensually roll your hips against him, feeling his dick slide through the folds of your dampening pussy. His hands slide down the curves of your waist in order to land upon your hips and hold firmly, softly squeezing you. No words need to be spoken to understand what the both of you want. 
Thranduil’s large hands roam up over your belly and to your chest, cupping and squeezing your soft breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples, watching how they harden in the golden rays of light falling over you, making you look almost as though you were glowing. You continue to rock your hips against him, his dick trapped between his abdomen and your leaking pussy. 
His head tips back as he sucks in a hiss through his teeth. “Come now, meleth nîn, tease me no longer.” He looks up at you through lidded eyes as one of his hands firmly grabs at the underside of your ass and helps to lift you up a little. His line of sight flickers down to his hardened cock and then back up to you, a silent command. You reach down and let out a soft moan when you glide his sensitive tip through your lips, taking a moment to feel the press and glide of it against your swollen clit before finally sinking down onto him. 
You take your time to sink down to him as you feel his large hands curl around the curve of your hips. At the stretch of him, you find your hands on his abdomen curling into tight fists, scratching slightly at his alabaster skin. He seems to grow impatient with you, or perhaps he just enjoys seeing your reactions, because his hold on your hips tightens and he bottoms out up into you. A keen is torn from your lips and for a moment, you feel as though you might collapse onto him. But he’s already setting a slow and steady pace, fucking up into you and it fills you with a craving for more. With your hands still pressed to his toned abdomen in order to assist in your balance, you begin to match his pace. 
It doesn’t take very long before the room is full of the squelches of your pussy being emptied and filled again and again and again, of your skin meeting his; they’re joined by his groans and your airy moans as you can nearly feel the air being punched from your lungs with just how deep he sinks into you each time. You can feel the trembling in your legs grow as all of your muscles seem to wind up tightly and sense in anticipation of your impending orgasm. 
Soon enough, your body seems to flush with heat and you push your hips down with all your weight, taking all of his cock inside your fluttering walls while he grinds into your sweet spot to draw out your pleasure even longer. 
You’re suddenly pushed onto your back in a tangle of limbs and you let out a noise like a wail when suddenly your sensitive, sticky walls are being pounded into as Thranduil chases his own release with your body, quickly pushing you towards the border of overstimulation. Your hands reach up to tangle in and tug at his gossamer hair and pull his body flush against yours. You feel his breath puff out against your neck just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine while your legs continue to quiver. You can hear all of his groans and grunts right by your ear as he praises you: ‘so tight’, ‘you always feel so good for me’, ‘one more, just give me one more when I fill you with my cum…’ 
It’s enough to quickly send your overly-sensitive body into another orgasm, your walls milking his cock as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his seed filling you up. 
The two of you hold each other in the silence that follows, interrupted only by your panted breaths and the faint wet noises of Thranduil continuing to grind into you, fucking his seed deeper into you, nudging against your cervix. 
“I don’t want to face the day just yet…” You let out in a sigh as you hold your husband a little tighter. All you truly wanted was to spend the day in bed with him but the two of you had a duty to your kingdom. 
“Neither do I, but it must be done…” Thranduil replies with a gentle kiss to your temple as he withdraws just enough to brush some damp hair away from your face. “But we don’t have to part until we leave our chambers.” He withdraws from you at last and you feel the sticky warmth of his cum leak from your hole. He looks down at the sight and you see a masculine sort of pride flash across his face for a moment. “So let me clean you up before I send you about your day.” You giggle when he suddenly hoists you up into a princess carry and begins to walk you towards your shared bathroom. 
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amber-michaelson · 1 year
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▪︎▪︎▪︎The Hobbit/LOTR▪︎▪︎▪︎
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(Lord Of The Rings)
Oneshots__
A New Family (thranduil, legolas)
Series__
Headcannons__
Nsfw Alphabet__
Sfw Alphabet__
Check out my other works
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gus-the-goldfish · 8 months
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Headcanon: riding them the first time
A/N; No one asked for this, but i, once again, fell into the lotr/hobbit hole. So there is that. Now I will probably disappear for another year before posting any stories. Enjoy!
Rating: 18+ minors avert your eyes
Warnings: smut!, a tiny bit of degradation
Characters involved: Kili, Fili, Thranduil
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Kili:
The first time you literally flipped him over to be on top, his eyebrows shot up so high on his forehead you were worried they would never return to normal
Boy was he surprised
He is usually a talker, loves to tease you in and outside of the bedroom but at that moment, he was speechless
For a few seconds he just stared at you, not knowing what the fuck he was supposed to do now since he was usually the one on top
You started out slow , just grinding against him which had him gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises
Honestly he wouldn’t be able to stop moaning because it felt so fucking good
And the way you look, fuck. Enjoying yourself, literally using him for your own pleasure
From that day on, he was the one almost begging you to ride him
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Fili:
Fili, like his brother, was surprised to have you on top of him but he recovered quickly and had a shit eating grin plastered on his face “Alright then...”
He would quiet literally lean back and enjoy the show, giving you some encouraging words along the way
“Doing so good, love. Keep going.”
“That’s it, make yourself cum.”
Would shamelessly grab, kiss, bite and lick any inch of skin he could find
Grabs your hips to keep you still once he noticed you’re close, just to hear you whimper and beg him to let you cum
“Not yet, love. You got to work for it.”
When he feels like you deserve to cum, he would just grab the back of your neck and pull you down to him before fucking up into you with a intensity that lets you see stars
Safe to say its his new favorite position
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Thranduil:
He felt insulted the first time you mentioned your desire to be on top for once
Thranduil is a king. A king has to be in control
He agreed to try it after lots of convincing (and to shut you up)
Once you finally settled on top of him, with his cock deep inside of you, he had the audacity to look bored. Bored!
Tried really hard to look unaffected when you started to move, but you did notice him licking his lips at the way your boobs bounced right in his face
He kept his hands at his sides, denying you the pleasure of his hands on your body even when you begged him to touch you, to guide you
Would definitely start mocking you when your legs gave out right before your orgasm
“What is it, meleth nin? You wanted to do this on your own, didn’t you?”
“Look at my stupid little girl, cant even ride her king properly.”
Finally had mercy on you when you started to cry from frustration and desperation
“No, no don’t cry now little star. I will show you how it’s done.”
Would fuck and overstimulate you for hours to remind you why he is the one on top
Secretly likes you on top anyway
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ohnonotnow · 4 months
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my library
here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help
will update the list as I read
Thorin
Smoke, iron and Thorin
Fire and Gold
Learning Khuzdul
Braid of Gold
Thorin being soft
The Beauty of Chance
Those Hands
Misunderstanding
The arrival
A king's crown
Covered In Steam
There's just inches in between us
Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews
In This Moment 
Agreement
Symphony of your life
Oh so quiet
Confession
Find Your Way Back
Fili
fili oneshots
Moonrise
The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident
Stay with me
The Redeemer
Durin's Garage
Restless
Kili
The book keeper
insecurities
The beauty and the Beast
getting back at Kili for teasing
My Treasure
Madly in love
It's in his kiss
Love Bites
Sway With Me
Wood Carvings
Softly. . .
Sweet like nectar
A Shot in the Dark
Beorn
Early Mornings
Beorn takes care of you when you're injured
Linger
Legolas
Watcher of Wanderers
The Innocence of Brutality
Blessing
Sensitive
Being best friends with Legolas
Hazy Memories
Spellbound
Thranduil
Bookworm
Relax
Best friends father
Fascination
Flower On My Skin
To Meet Under the Stars
Passenger Princess
Autumn Thunderstorm
I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed
Haldir
Gentle Dark
Lindir
My Heart Is In Your Hands
Moonlight
Just a Little Help
Warriors Great Tales
The Fountain
Return to Me
Èomer
Burnt Bread
A Helping Hand
Wildest Dreams
Falling In Love With A Librarian
SFW alphabet
Happiness
A Roll in the Hay
Blessing
Turning Points
More characters
various characters oneshots
Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.
Journey to Erebor
Hair braiding
Elves + Braiding
What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?
The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)
A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company
Cuddling With Thorin's Company
Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.
The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader
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disasterofastory · 11 months
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Leather and dust (Thranduil x Reader)
Leather and dust Thranduil x Reader Warnings: smutty
Summary: Thranduil pays you a visit in the library.
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The creak of the heavy doors breaks the silence of the library. It's loud and sharp in the silence. A small gasp leaves your lips as you jump because of the sudden sound. The book almost slips out of your hands, and you tighten your hold at the last moment. Your nails dig into the leather cover.
You know he is here. You can feel it. And hear it. His steps are heavy thuds on the ground. Putting the book back in its original place on the shelf, you try to listen to the rhythmic noise to find out where he may be. A frown appears between your brows as you turn your head left and right. His steps echo between the tall walls. One moment, you are sure he is far away, and the next second, your heart jumps to your throat at his closeness.
Where is he?
"What the book did to cause that frown?" Another gasp leaves your lips at his words. Your head snaps up where he stands, and your hand slips away from the book's spine to fall next to your body. Your fingers seek out the soft material of your skirt to grab something. "It did nothing, my King," you reply when you find your voice. Thranduil stands a few meters away from you at the end of the shelf. His hands are behind his back. His posture is straight and confident. His whole presence demands respect and obedience. "Then who earned your sour mood, Y/N?" "Oh, nobody," you croak out, clearing your throat. "I just... I was deep in thought." "Do you want to share them with me?" He asks, stepping closer. "Maybe I can ease your worries." "I have no worries, my King," you tell him, shaking your head. "My thoughts don't even deserve to be mentioned." You are lying. Of course, you do. But how could you share your thoughts with the elven king? How could you tell him that he is the reason for your worries? That you barely can breathe in his presence? And you can't look at him without burning? And the little game he has been playing with you for weeks now drives you desperation and madness at the same time? "It's hard to believe that your thoughts don't deserve mentioning," he argues softly. The corners of his lips jerk upward, but Thranduil doesn't let himself smile even though the amusement is clear on his face. Humor glints in his bright blue eyes. Not knowing what to say, you clear your throat again before speaking. "Can I help you with something, my King?" You ask him, trying to be more professional. "The others told me you want to reorganize the library," he says. "Yes," you nod. "Tightening the relations between Lake-town and the dwarves made a mess here. I thought perhaps..." "Why?" He asks, and the sudden question stops you from speaking. "Why does a mortal woman like you with such a short lifespan waste her time here? With old books and languages?" His question hurts for a moment. The frown is back on your face with a small pout. "I..." The wrinkle between your brows deepens as you try to think of your answer. "Maybe that's why." Turning to the books so you don't have to look at him, you continue. "I don't have hundreds and thousands of years to get to know and experience everything. The books and documents... they help. And..." The air gets stuck in your lungs when you feel him moving behind you. His chest touches your back. His whole presence hovers above you and almost pushes you to your knees. "And?" His warm breath fans over the side of your face. It smells like fruits and a hint of the finest elven wine. "And..." You have to force the words out of your tightened throat. "And their smell. It's parchment, dust, leather, and ink. They are comforting." By the time you finish your sentence, your voice becomes a weak whisper. The tip of his nose brush over the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. Your heart stops beating for a long second, and your thighs clench without your control. "That explains it," he hums against your skin. "Explains what, my King?" You ask back, still frozen in place. "Your scent," he says. "Dust, leather, and ink. It haunts me since you are here. I lay in my bed at night, unable to sleep because of you. I can hear you. I can smell you." "Oh." "Do you know what I do then, Y/N?" He asks. His large hands land on your hips. His hold on you is tight and possessive. You can feel the squeeze of his fingers between your legs even though his touch doesn't move away from your sides. "No," you reply. The word leaves your lips panting. "Then ask me, Y/N." His lips brush over your neck as he speaks. "Ask me what I do when I'm unable to free myself from the thoughts of you." "What do you do, my King?" Your question is shaky and breathless. His chest presses against your back some more. You can feel him pressed against your bottom. "I imagine you," he replies. You can barely feel the kisses he hints on the line of your shoulder as he goes up to your neck, but you still know what he is doing. "I close my eyes and imagine you beneath me. You are bare and flushed in front of me. Your lips are red from my kisses, and your legs are open as you wait for me." You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each word that leaves his lips. One of his hands slips down to your skirt, pulling up the fabric with calmness and patience. "I try to imagine how you taste and how you sound as you scream my name and beg for more." "Thranduil." His name slips off your tongue with desperation. Your eyes fall close, and you have to grab one of the shelves to keep your balance. "I imagine this pussy around my cock instead of my hand." His long fingers find their way under your panties easily. His touch glides over your wetness, gathering your juices until he is soaked in your essence. "Open your mouth," Thranduil orders. His voice is quiet but not less commanding. "And suck." Your own taste spreads across your tongue as he pushes two of his fingers between your lips. "Is it as sweet as I imagined?" He asks but doesn't let your answer. When you open your mouth to speak, he pushes deeper until you gag. Saliva drips down your jaw. "I will taste you tonight," the elven king states. "I will feast on your pussy all night until you are as mad with need as I am." But you already are. The world is dizzy around you, and only Thranduil's arm keeps you on your feet. Your pussy aches and throbs for more.
And everything is over before you know it.
"Come to my room tonight," Thranduil says. You feel cold without his warmth behind you. "I will wait for you."
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sachiko1309 · 2 months
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Make me your wife
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Summary: Y/N and her sister got attacked by giant spiders. Luckily Thranduil and his men were near enough to come to their rescue. What Y/N didnt think would ever happen, would be the elven king falling for her sassy and sarcastic character...
Word count: 6606
Warnings: spider attack in the beginning, sass, smut in the end, Minors DNI, this contains adult content!
This was written on request for: @mitsurisu I hope you like it. Sorry for the long wait, but I had much to do at my work. 😅
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I was riding through the forest of the Woodland realm with my sister Leonor. We had set of from Rivendell on the request of Legolas. We had met him after he had helped the dwarves to take back their mountain. He was a very nice fellow, flirtatious and easy going, to the point where my sister had poked me and made fun of me for maybe pursuing him as a potential partner. She had been married to her husband for the last 300 years and was still utterly convinced that I would be happy in a marriage as well.
Nothing I said was driving her from that path and I had given up convincing her otherwise, deciding that letting her talk and ignore it would be the best option. She was once again on a rampage on married life, while I rode besides her, letting my thoughts and gaze wander. A crack deeper in the woods made me listen up. I knew that in those woods there were living many giant spiders, so I silenced my sister. She wasn’t a fighter like I was and if we were in trouble I needed her to listen to me.
“Shut it, Leonor. I think I heard something!” I whispered, but she waved it off. “Oh, come on Y/N. You always see and hear danger everywhere.”
“Its my job. I am a soldier after all. Be quiet, there are many spiders in these woods. I need to figure out if we are in danger.” I growled, my hands already gripping my two swords.
“Relax. There is nothing out there. You know how thoroughly Legolas and the guards clear those woods. He has told us on many occasions.” She sighed, not taking the threat seriously.
Another crack made me draw my swords, telling my horse to speed up. Leonor was quick to follow me and we were now thundering through the forest. I really hoped that it was just the forest doing foresty things and not some giant spiders, but my hope was being denied.
With a loud thud, a dark green giant spider dropped right in front of us. Leonor was just quick enough to steer her horse around it, while I was cut of by the spiders body. My horse shrieked, nearly throwing me off, but I was just able to keep me on its back. “RUN!” I yelled at my sister, making myself ready to face the big monster.
“Y/N!” She screamed, drawing the attention of the beast to her. It got up high enough for me to ride under his stomach, grabbing the reigns of my sisters horse who seemed frozen in place.
Dragging her behind me, I rushed my horse through the woods, hoping that we would be faster than that spider. Leonor took a while to come out of her frozen state, but when she was able to steer her horse again, I gave her back the reigns, now drawing my bow, turning around on my horse to shoot at the giant spider. But it didn’t seem like my arrows really seemed to bother the creature that was chasing us. And to my dismay, I hear the clicking sounds of several more coming through the woods.
They started to catch up to us, our horses slowly but surely loosing speed. And then it happened. We got circled by two smaller spiders dropping in front of us. Our horses freaked again, this time throwing us off their backs and making a run, only to be killed by spiders stomping onto them. Immediately they started to drag them away, probably into their net. I reached for another arrow, realizing, that I had shot every single one of them, without taking down one single spider.
“Fuck.” I let out, throwing my bow to the ground and dragging my swords.
“What do you mean fuck?” Leonor asked and I just gritted out: “Fuck as in we are fucked. I am out of arrows.”
“You shot all of them?” She asked and I wanted to smack her: “No, I threw them away. Of course I did!”
“No need to be so snappy.” She lashed back and I just looked at her with a deadly glare. “Oh yes, we are just about to die and I should play happy fun time with you? Forgive me for feeling a little stressed.”
“Its not my fault, that it happened.” Leonore seemed hurt and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “I never said it was. I am sorry for snapping at you. Its just… Ah forget it. Try to stay close to me, without getting in my way. If we are getting separated, I cant protect you and if you are in my way, I will probably hurt you. Just…” I tried to make it understandable for her. “…think of it as a dance.”
“A dance?” She asked and I could hear she was raising her brows. “Why would I think of this as a dance?” Shrugging my shoulders I swung my sword at the first spider stepping close: “I don’t know. You are the minstrel of us. I was just trying to make it logical for you.”
I didn’t hear what she answered, because my sword collided with the heavy foot of a spider, drawing an ugly screeching sound from it, as I cut through the hard material. Letting my second sword swing higher, I managed to stab it into the thicker part of the leg. Ripping out my first sword, I swung my body around and through the air, landing on top of the spider. I forced both my swords into its head, managing to down it. Jumping off, I faced the next one, but my fight seemed to have no end, as I saw that the ranks were quickly closed again.
A horn being blown and horses thundering through the woods made me catch a new wave of hope and I started to fight back harder, always making sure to cover my sister from any attacks. I heard yelling and arrows whirring through the air and I realized, that the spiders slowly but surely were thinned out. Facing another one, I was just quick enough to jump aside, as it launched for me. Rolling around, I found myself underneath its big body. Not hesitating a second, I stabbed my blades into its stomach drawing it along, as I ran to get out of there.
A mixture of spider blood, gushy intestines and a sort of dark slime covered me, as I stumbled out beneath the tumbling and falling creature. Catching my breath, I stood there for several seconds, trying to regain some strength and to get rid of the slippery mixture that covered me. When I was able to look back up, the rest of the spiders had either been slain or forced away, leaving us and the elves that came to our rescue behind. “Y/N! Leonor!” I heard Legolas yell, turning to look at him.
A sarcastic smile on my lips, I greeted him: “You seem to lack in your mission to clear the woods, my prince.” He gritted his teeth, hugging Leonor, but refraining to do the same to me: “You are as friendly as always, Y/N.” I shrugged, shoving my swords back into their sheaths. “What can I say. I was raised to be a sunshine.” But when I saw his father approaching us, I stopped talking, bowing to greet the king. “My king. I apologize for causing trouble in your lands.”
“No need to apologize. You were right. It seems as if my son isn’t particularly thorough with his task. I am the one in need to apologize as this has clearly endangered you and your…”
“Sister, my king.” I helped him out, still looking down on the ground.
“…your sister. Am I correct with the assumption you came to visit my kingdom?” He asked.
“Yes, my king. We came to visit your son, prince Legolas. He has invited us.” I answered stiffly, looking at Legolas for help. The blond elf just smiled at me and I dared to look at his father the first time. And what I saw knocked the breath out of my lungs. He was gorgeous to say the least.
Tall, strong, handsome. The similarities to Legolas unmistakable. And his blue eyes. Staring at me as if he was reading directly into my soul. I was totally caught of guard by his appearance, not realizing he was talking to me again: “I am sorry. What did you say, my king?” I barely remembered to address him by his title, but he didn’t seem to mind. Smiling at me, he repeated his words: “I was welcoming you to my kingdom. As it seems, something must have caught your attention, my Lady.”
“Y/N. Just Y/N, my king. I am no lady. Just a common soldier of Rivendell.” I corrected him, trying my best to hide my breathless voice. Thranduil looked behind me, the smile on his lips widening. “A very good one, as it seems. You took out two spiders on your own.”
“And I shot all my arrows without them having any effect.” I reduced his praise, not feeling comfortable with the king saying such high words about me. He clicked his tongue. “Ah, arrows barely have any effect on the spiders. Their shells are far to thick for them to penetrate deep enough.”
“I didn’t know, my king. The next time I will come prepared.” I said, bowing deeply again.
“The next time?” He asked with a smirk to his lips and I furrowed my brows: “Yes? Did I do something wrong, my king? If I have insulted you in any form, I apologize.” But Thranduil just grinned at me with a knowing look on his lips, before he turned around: “The next time you visit us, let me know beforehand, so that I can ensure your save journey. A lady like you must not face such beasts under my watch.”
“I can fend for myself!” I yelled after him, this time leaving out his title, as his assumption angered me. He looked over his shoulder, taking in my angry form for a moment, before he answered: “I know. But I would feel better if you were protected by my guards.” Then he turned around, looking at a light brown haired man: “Feren, ensure that Leonor and Lady Y/N have a horse to ride on and have a bath prepared for them.” The man bowed his head slightly. “Yes, my Lord.”
***
And that’s how I had met Thranduil. That was nearly 100 years ago. 87 to be exact. He had started to court me soon after that incident, sending letter over letter to Rivendell, to the point where even Lord Elrond heard of what was happening. In the beginning I didn’t think much of it, reading his letters as nothing more as friendly correspondence. Until one day he literally showed up in Rivendell, demanding to speak with Lord Elrond himself.
Later on, I was told, that Thranduil had demanded to know if I was forced to work too much, since I didn’t answer every single one of his letters. From then on, our letters turned into a frequent thing, until one day I asked Lord Rivendell to free me from my duties and to allow me to live in Mirkwood. Lord Elrond let me go with a warm and knowing smile, something I didn’t exactly know how to read back then.
But soon, Thranduil and my friendship turned into him making advances until I finally gave in to courting him. Thranduil had pulled every string he had, to get me to fall for him. He made sure that I was taken care off, that I had everything I ever wished for to the point where I literally had to fight him on lessening his extensive gifts, but there was nothing I could do to talk sense into that man.
And now here I was, sitting at the big banquet next to him. We had gotten married. Well technically we weren’t truly married yet, since for elves the marriage was only completed when the marriage was conceived. And to be honest, I couldn’t wait much longer. My friends and family had come to Mirkwood and wished me the very best. Even Lord Elrond had managed to fit in time to spare my marriage a visit, congratulating me.
I looked at my now husband, only to find him staring at me already. “You are so beautiful, my little starlight.” He whispered, reaching his hand for mine. I squeezed his hand, leaning in to his shoulder. “How long do we have to keep up this thing, until we can retreat?” I asked, the alcohol in my blood probably pushing me to speak this openly. Thranduil chuckled at my words: “So desperate already?” I smacked him on the chest. “Don’t tell me you aren’t.”
“At least I don’t show it so openly.” He teased me, kissing my hand softly. “Dance with me, meleth.”
Letting him pull me to my feet, he guided us to the dancefloor, pulling me close to his body and I could feel that he was longing for me the same way I did for him. His head sank down to my level as he whispered: “This one last dance should appease our guests. I think they already know what is about to happen, but it is much easier to vanish between dancing couples than from the high table.” I smirked at his words, leaning my head onto his chest. “Is that so, my king?”  I felt him shrug: “At least I suspect it would make things easier for Feren. He always seems to be so stressed.”
“That’s because you stress him, herven.” I answered and the way he stiffened at me calling him husband for the first time, made me smile. “Herven.” He repeated. “Say it again. It sounds so beautiful from your lips.”
“What? Herven?” I asked, putting a soft moan to my words. Thranduils breathing became rigid, as he clearly had trouble keeping the rhythm of the dance. He took a deep breath, before he simply ended the dance pulling me through the other couples. “You know what? Fuck it. I am done waiting.” Once we were far enough away from the others to hear or see us, he threw me over his shoulder, causing me to shriek out loud. “Thranduil!”
“Oh yes. That’s even better.” He grinned, carrying me through the halls and back to his chambers. “I am going to make sure that the only things that are leaving your mouth will be my name, my title and those sweet little moans or yours.”
***
Thranduil stopped in front of his door, looking at me with what I believed to be fear in his eyes. “Are you ready?” He asked me and I nodded: “Yes.” Taking his hand, I followed him inside. As soon as the door fell shut behind us, he pressed me against a wall, a sly smirk on his lips. “You have no idea, how much I waited to do this.” I didn’t react to his tease, just pulling him in by his collar, desperate to kiss him. His hands wandered to my waist, gripping the fabric of my dress.
I held onto him, still letting his hands wander over my body. “Are you sure, you want to do this?” He asked, his breath fanning down my neck, before he bit down on my sweet spot. Moaning at the sensation that rushed through my body, I tried my best to keep the conversation going: “Yes, I am. I haven’t been so sure about anything in my life, ever.”
“Good. Because I doubt, I would be able to endure the wait any longer.” His husked voice sent shivers down my spine and I had to hold on to his shoulders, to not faint. “You know what this perfume does to me, darling? The whole evening, I could not focus on anything else than you sweet smell. Do you even know, how hard I was all evening?” He picked me up, pressing me against the wall, looking at me with an angry hunger in his eyes. “I should not be commanded by a woman like that, especially not one that does it so easily like you do. It is endangering my reputation.”
“I think your reputation as the King is hardly attacked with you desiring your wife.” Trying my best to fight back against his administrations, I rolled back my head when his free hand opened the lacing of my dress, desperate to feel more of him. “What reputation, darling? Go on. Make your point.”
“The… fuck…” I cursed, earning a chuckle: “That’s very unladylike, darling. I should knock that word out of your brain.”
“You wouldn’t dare to do that. You love my dirty mouth.” I sassed back. He hummed at my words, just holding me tight to his body. “I do. And I want to make sure you are taken care off.” His words made me open my eyes again, leaning back to look at him.
He let me down slowly, still trying to hide his face from me, but I held his head, looking at him, when he let go of me: “No, please tell me. What are you afraid of?” I asked, stepping closer to him, but he just dodged backwards. Tilting my head, I followed him into the living area, effectively backing him into the sofa. When he sat down on it, I straddled his lap. “Are you afraid to be close to me?”
“No…” He breathed heavily. “Yes… I don’t know. I… I want to be close to you, but I don’t want you to feel forced. You know how it is… Wifely duties and all and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but at the same time I want to feel you, hold you, smell you, taste you. Everything. I am in no place to expect anything from you, so I refrain from giving in to those thoughts too much, because I don’t want to make it too obvious to you, that my needs are currently overruling my consciousness. And now that I am close and… and alone with you, I realize that its much harder than I have thought it would be... I want this to be special to you. I want to be the loving husband you deserve, to let you know that you are my most priced treasure… That I would do anything for you.”
I just looked at him: “Are you… are you rambling? The elven king and man of precise language is rambling and stuttering?”
“Yes.” Was all he said. “And you currently sitting on my lap, dressed like that, doesn’t help my case either.”
“What's stopping you?” Letting my voice drop lower, I leaned forward, rolling my hips shamelessly over his lap. He groaned out, gripping my tighter. “Y/N… You don’t have to do this. I can live with it, if you aren’t ready.”
“Do I look forced, meleth?” I whispered close to his ear, nibbling on it. “Show me what it feels like. Please, meleth. Touch me. Please… be my husband.”
Thranduil let his head fall back, his eyes were closed, as he was definitely on his last straw of mindfulness. “How much do I need to push you, until you give in?” I giggled at his neck, making my way up to his chin and then hovering over his lips. “Would it help, if I lose my wedding dress?”
“You sound like a prostitute…” He gritted out and I just grinned wider. “And? Is it working?”
“Yes. And I don’t know if I like that thought.”
“Which thought? Me as a prostitute, or that I am succeeding to win you over that easily?” I kept on teasing him. Leaning back, I opened up the strings of my dress, pulling it over my head.
He balled his fists at my waist, his eyes forcefully trained on my face. “Both. But I would never let you become a prostitute.”
“Scared to share me?” Still keeping up my teasing way, I just sat on top of him, waiting for him to react. “No.” He gritted out.
“What's it then? Afraid another man might do me better?” Wetting my fingers with my tongue, I let them slide between my legs, stabilizing myself with my free hand on his knee. And when my fingers found my clit, I hummed in pleasure, still watching his face intently. Not reacting to my administrations, he spoke in a very forced tone: “You are my wife. There is no other man. Ever.”
“Hmmm. I like that, meleth.” I sighed, feeling how I grew wetter, so I dipped one finger inside my core, only to then put it to my mouth to lick it clean. “I like it, when you get possessive and confrontive towards other men. The difference of how you treat them and how you treat me, makes me feel special.”
“Does it now?” He sassed and I sighed internally. I finally had him broken out of his restrictive shell. I had my husband back: “Always has.”
“You really want to do this?” He inquired further and I nodded. “Yes. Please. I think I am ready.” Taking one last breath, he gripped my thighs. “Hold on.” Without giving me much time to react, he got up, walking towards the bedroom. “If you want me to do this, I am going to do this properly.”
“I know. Everything else wouldn’t be like you.” I grinned, hiding my face in his neck. He sat me down slowly on the edge of the bed. Then he stepped back, taking off his clothes one piece after the other: “If you are already naked, I shall be too. I don’t want to make you feel insecure.” His words made me blush and I stuttered out a quiet “Thank you.”  
Thranduil came back to me sinking further to his knees. When he was eyelevel with my stomach, he softly kissed it, then down my thigh until he reached my knee. “Lean back and relax.” His voice was rough, his warm breath sending goosebumps over my inner thigh.
“I want to watch you. I need to see you.” I whispered, stroking through his hair. His jaw clenched at my words, but he didn’t say anything, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to it. “If you wish so.” His fingers ghosted over my skin, leaving trails of goosebumps behind. “I will take my time today. I want to take care of you as good as I can.” He whispered roughly, kissing the insides of my thighs up to my core. I was too mesmerized with his softness, his blue eyes burning with love and passion, that I was incapable of answering him.
Then I felt his first finger touch my core and I stiffened up, digging my nails in his shoulders. He immediately stopped, looking up at me, waiting for me to relax. We stared into each others eyes, Thranduil kissing and nibbling on my thighs. “You are safe, meleth. Relax. There is nothing you have to fear.” Taking a deep breath, I focused on his eyes, relaxing as much as I could. And when he felt me giving up my barrier, he kept on pushing his finger inside of me. “See? You are doing great.”
I closed my eyes, the faint sound of his name on my lips and I could feel the familiar feeling starting to grow between my legs. Carefully he added another finger, scissoring them apart, creating a steady rhythm. “Let go, love. You are doing so good. Taking my fingers so well.” He praised me, his voice low and soft like silk. I could feel my blood rush to my face, painting it a light pink shade, my heartbeat thrumming in my ears, that I nearly missed his sweet little murmurs. His mouth wandered all over my thighs, my stomach, and hip bones, until he hovered over my core. “May I?”
“Yes…” I breathed out, moaning, when I felt his lips kiss my sensitive spot. Instinctively I spread my legs further, letting myself fall back onto the bed, one hand still clasping his free arm. “Thranduil…” I moaned, unable to focus on anything else than the man between my legs, lulled in by his sweet touches and soft little praises. “Please don’t stop.” I cried out, not really caring, that it was still the early evening, our windows hanging open, still a hurried humming coming from the big ball room.
“Never.” Was all he answered, slowly finger fucking me. It was ridiculous, how fast he was able to find the sweet spot deep inside of me. I heaved myself onto my elbows, wanting to see him, rather than just feeling him. And the expression that he had on his faze was breathtaking. Full of confidence and arrogance, a slight smirk forming on his lips, when he realized I was watching him again. “You taste so fucking good.” He groaned, raising his head to properly look at me. The shamelessness of him made me gasp out in embarrassment. His face was covered in my slick, eyes wild and hungry.
His gaze flickered between soft love and hungry possession as he was clearly fighting his urges to claim me. And I was absolutely turned on by it.
Thranduils smile grew wicked, when he saw how much I was affected by him. Wiping my slick of his chin, he licked his fingers clean, making a show out of it, simultaneously not stopping his fingers working my core. “You like that do you?” I wasn’t able to answer, just staring him in the eyes. “Answer me, my love, or I will stop.” He teased, some of his usual possessive self breaking through.
“Yes.” I pressed out, his name quickly following, when he curled his fingers perfectly against my sweet spot. Dipping down again, his fingers and tongue kept pushing me further down the road of my orgasm. The knot in my lower stomach starting to grow tighter, my legs wrapping around his shoulders, to keep him in place. I could feel my walls starting to flutter around his digits, another sign that I was close. The strength left my upper body and I fell back onto the bed, pulling his free arm close to my chest, nails digging into his skin. My eyes rolled back into my head as his name rang through the room, when my orgasm suddenly washed over me.
I felt him carefully pull out his fingers, his hands gently covering my cunt, as I just dwelled in the feeling. Tears started to form in my eyes and I tugged on his arm. “Meleth…” I mewled, desperate to feel him. He reacted instantly, getting up from his position climbing onto the bed and pulling me higher into the pillows. I turned around, crawling to the headboard falling to my stomach. “Feel you!” I pressed out, hugging a pillow tight to my chest.
Seconds later, I could feel his warm body hovering over me. I reached out for his hand that was holding his weight, clamping my fingers around his wrists. Sinking down on his elbows, he pressed me down, taking my hands in his bigger ones. The new intimate position making me feel hot and safe at the same time. His strong chest forced me down, chest hair tickling on my back, his thighs caging me in, as he buried me underneath him. “Thranduil…” I whimpered desperately, bucking my ass against his crotch.
He growled into my ear, his lips smothering me roughly, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. “Please… I need you… Meleth…” I tried again, pressing up against his body, only to be met with him pressing me down further. “By Valar, please… I cant bare it anymore…” Begging for more, I cried out for him the tension in my body so high, that I was sure I would snap any moment.
His hands were roaming over my body, when he suddenly grabbed my arm, twisting me around. I shrieked and he instantly pulled back, skidding back to the edge of the bed, hands raised. “I am sorry, darling. I let myself go. Forgive me.”
“Its alright, Meleth. I trust you. I just didn’t expect this.” I smiled at him, reaching out for him. “Come back. Please.”
“What if I hurt you?” He stayed at the end of the bed.
“You wont hurt me.”
“You don’t know that!” He nearly yelled; the stress clear in his eyes. I gulped hard, seeing him irritated like that send a shiver down my spine. Taking a deep breath, I forced the unwanted thoughts out of my head.
“I know that you would never willingly do something that would harm me in any way. And that is all you can do. I trust you with all my life and I want this, meleth. I need this. Please. What can I do to make you believe me? To help you to trust yourself with me?”
“Promise to tell me, when its too much, or when I hurt you.” He rasped, slowly coming back to me, leaning his face into my hand.
“I promise.”
“Thank you.” He whispered, kissing my palm, before he sat back on his ankles, opening his breeches and I couldn’t help but stare at him.
His cock sprung free, hard, and tinted in a light pink shade, a drop of precum already crowning on his tip. “Fuck yes…” I breathed, staring at his manhood, not realizing, that he moved again, ridding himself from his breeches, crawling towards me again. He forced me to lay back down on my back and I just wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him flush against my core. That caused him to grind his hips against mine, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. I just clung to his body, squirming against his touch. “So needy.” He mused, kissing his way down to my breasts, taking one nipple between his lips.
Him sucking so delicately on my nipple, let me jolt in pleasure. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh, twitching in anticipation. Supporting all his weight on one hand, he looked at me one last time, waiting for me to give him my consent. Nodding I bit my lip, bracing myself for what was about to come. He guided his hard member into me, very carefully easing his way in. I was still incredible wet from my previous orgasm, but I wasn’t prepared to take him, my body tensing up at the intrusion, making him stop mid movement. “Are you alright, darling? We don’t have to…” But I shook my head. “Go on. I want this.” 
Once he bottomed out, he stayed sheathed like that, distracting any thought I had with kissing me, until my head spun. It didn’t take long for me to grow accustomed to him, my hips starting to roll against him. I held onto his shoulders, looking him deep into the eyes. “I love you.” Thranduil nearly crumbled at my words, closing his eyes and groaning lowly. “Fuck me… That’s the hottest ‘I love you’, you have ever said.” Giggling I blushed. “I doubt that.”
“Not that it isn’t incredible to hear you say it in any other situation, but this… this just hits different. You trusting me like this... This memory will forever be my heaven.”
“You old romantic.” I groaned, but my smile betrayed me, him bending down for a kiss. “Always for you.”
Slowly he started to move, setting a slow and steady pace, fully set on pleasuring me as much and long as he could. My walls started to accommodate him more, relaxing around him. I hummed at the sweet feeling that started to spread through my body, my head sinking deeper into the pillows. “Yes…” I sighed, closing my eyes, just holding onto his upper arms.
“I love you, darling. Just relax and enjoy.” His words were water on a hot stone, instantly fogging up my mind, a light veil covering us.
He bent down to my neck, kissing it, nibbling onto my shoulder and a short worry of being marked up by him shot through me, but when he managed to hit my sweet spot, that worry got kicked out of my mind again. “Thranduil!” I yelped, digging my nails into his arms even more. “Do it again.” He growled against my skin, his teeth nipping on the sweet spot right under my ear. “Let me hear how much this pleasures you.” I complied to his demand, babbling before I even managed to filter anything that left my mouth: “Please… Give me more… I need more. Make me your wife, please… This feels so good. You feel so good. Claim me, please… meleth.”
“God, Y/N.” He moaned. “You are going to be the death of me…” The way he was so affected by it, only fed the tingly feeling in my body, spreading it to my limps. The tension in my lower stomach now growing bigger with every second, causing me to produce a guttural moan. I clasped my hand in front of my mouth, my gaze wandering towards the open balcony door, but Thranduil didn’t seem to mind one bit. Quite the opposite. He let out a growl, taking my hand away again. “Let them hear. Let the whole kingdom know, that you are my wife.”
Shifting his weight, he leaned back on his ankles, raising my hips, while fucking me deeper into the mattress. The new position caused him to hit a particular deep spot inside of me, pushing all the air out of me in a loud cry of his name.
“Say it again, little one. Let everyone know who you belong to.” He darkly smiled at me, his thrust not faltering one second. “So beautiful. So perfect for me. Taking my cock so well.” Praising me, he didn’t let go of my eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, bereth. I want to see you, when you come.”
I couldn’t help but stare at him, mesmerized by him, not able to resist the drawl he put into calling me his wife. His wife. That title alone did things to my mind, I wasn’t prepared for. The knot in my stomach was about to pop, threatening to pull me under. And by the way he was grinning, he knew. Knew from the way I shivered, the way my walls fluttered around his length. “Go on, my starlight. Let go for me. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll back in your head. Wanna feel how you twitch around me and make a mess on my cock.” He spurred me on. And on cue I came.
Hard.
My back arched from the bed, eyes rolling back inside my head. I shivered in his hands in pure bliss of my orgasm, his name ringing through the room loud enough, that I was sure even the soldiers standing guard on the southern entrance were able to hear me. This orgasm was hard and fast, crushing into me like a rogue wave. Thranduil still kept his pace, thrusting into me, roughly praising me: “That’s it, darling. Ride it out. You are doing so good. Looking so fucking beautiful.” And I could feel my cum leak on his lap, drawing lush sounds from my core.
“Meleth!” I cried out, now completely kicked out of reality.” Crying out in desperation I reached out for him. Thranduil gave into my pleading, leaning forward again, pressing me down with his full body, effectively caging me in between his hot chest and soft mattress. “Yes…” I mewled, wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling him thrust much deeper into me. I was again babbling absolutely unfiltered: “Don’t stop, meleth. Makes me feel safe. So good. Thank you.”
“Of course, darling. Everything for you.” His voice sounded strained and I realized that he was close as well. “Its okey. You can let go.” I tried to get the words out straight, but another moan rippled through me, him groaning, desperately gripping a pillow. “No. I am not finished with you. I want you to come with me.” The pure determination and love in his words, striking me deeply, so that I couldn’t help but, whimper again. I earned a soft bite on my shoulder, followed by more praises: “Fuck yes… I love it when you do that. Taking me so well, moaning for me in such beautiful tones.”
Sneaking a hand between us, he pressed two fingers on my clit, sloppily rubbing circles over it. I clenched around his cock as an answer, goosebumps spreading over my skin, as he forced the fire to burn up in my body once again. A shiver ran down my spine, my walls fluttering around his cock, my legs wrapping around him even tighter. It spurred him on to fuck me even harder, his fingers moving faster, the sloppy kisses on my neck now closer to love bites than anything else. I started to shake uncontrollably, my body overwhelmed by the desire and stimulation that he had and still was administrating.
“I got you.” He rasped out and it was all I needed to hear. I came again, succumbing to a shivering mess underneath him, clamping down on his cock. “Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned and I could feel him twitch inside of me. The feeling of his hot seed shooting up my core made me whimper desperately and I couldn’t help myself but to think about what it would feel like to carry his child. Slowing down his pace, he rode out our orgasms, smothering every bit of skin with wet kisses. He was breathing hard, trying his best to catch his stance again.
Pressing me close to himself, he rolled onto his back and I was now lying on top of him. “You did so good, meleth nin. Took me so well. I promise I will always love and protect you. You are everything to me, the only thing I would give away everything I own for without batting an eye.” Listening to his sweet ramblings, I let the tears roll from my cheeks, cherishing his love and the sweet intimate moment between us.
To my dismay, it was interrupted far too quickly, when I felt the mixture of my slick and his seed trickling out of me. Wriggling in his arms, I tried to find a comfortable spot, but the stickiness just got worse. He was quick to realize what was the problem. Pressing a kiss to my head, he rolled around again, getting up from the bed. “Stay there. I will get something to get you cleaned up.”
I just watched him scramble through the room and come back with a bowl of water and a wash cloth. He looked so incredible hot like this. His hair messy and disheveled. Eyes still glowing with desire. And when he saw his cum seeping out of me, I believed to see his gaze grow even darker. I sighed loudly, catching his look with mine: “How was I ever able to deny me such pleasures…?” He laughed at my words, slowly sinking to the bed and cleaning me up with soft little touches. “From now on you will never have to. Whenever you need me, feel free to come and get me.”
“Even when you are in a meeting?” I asked and he smirked at me: “Especially then.”
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rottencherrypie · 23 days
Text
R-18+; Scent, Taste, Touch (Mirkwood Elves x Reader)
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Summary - Three of the five senses with the Mirkwood elves.
Warnings - Smut, language, male genitalia, female genitalia, mention of bodily fluids, male masturbation, female masturbation, creampie, smelling intimates while masturbating, legolas whimpering, eating while masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), semi-public oral sex, thinking of reader while masturbating, reader does not have any specified genitalia (I tried my best).
Pronouns & POV - None, third-person
Pairings - Legolas x Reader, Thranduil x Reader, Tauriel x Reader
Word Count - 1,900+
A/N - I am in the middle of writing a smut and needed a little break, so I thought I'd try my hand at something new. I also made my own gifs which are a little off, but I like them. Pure smut under the cut!
Read on AO3
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
- legolas
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Scent. Things of the earth that brought comfort to the elven prince were far and few; it was farther and fewer when it came to instantaneous soothing. It neared the realms of impossibility to cease the never-ending chatter, the sleepless nights, and the constant sensation of fight or flight that roamed through his veins.
Yet, there was one thing that always eased him. The one thing that lulled him into a sense of security he hadn't felt for decades. 
Your scent.
The moment he breathed in your scent, the perfect mixture of forest musk and spring waters, all chatter within his mind ceased. The lids of his piercing blue eyes would flutter shut, the weight of his toned figure easing into your gentle arms as he breathed you in. 
His face buried in the crook of your neck as he inhaled the scent straight from the source, the soothing tightness of his strong arms holding you close to him as he kept breathing you in. 
The exact position would keep you in place as his aching cock stretched you out. The halls filled with the squelching click of his manhood carving itself deep into your sensitive walls as he kept his face buried in your shoulder, the soft tickle of his breath upon your exposed skin sending shivers down your spine as you heard him inhale shakily.
"So good." The words would be breathless as if he was a sailor who had fallen overboard desperately attempting to gain air, yet all he wished to fill his lungs with was the scent of you.
He wouldn't raise his head from your shoulders; his grip upon you would tighten as he hid his face further into your flesh as a slew of soft whimpers vibrated against your skin. The weight of his body firmly pressed into you, deepening the heavenly stretch of your inner walls as the speed within his hips would quicken.
His thrusts deepened, ensuring each inch of his cock had its moment within your sensitive area as he moaned in your scent, breathing it all in as he painted your walls with his hot seed.
And when there are nights where you were unable to warm his bed. He would find your scent in other manners.
The sight, one of his face masked within the fabric of your intimate wear. His nose pressed deep into the fabrics, seeking the spot that contained the most amount of your sensitive aromas.
The faint squelching click of the elven prince toying with his throbbing cock was stifled by his shaky, deep inhales as he breathed in the scent that clung to the fabric upon his face.
"Fuck." The word was a muffled moan as his slender hand tightened around his cock, the weight of his head falling back, allowing the intimates to weigh upon his face, drowning his sensitive nose in the pure scent of you. 
He'd continue to breathe in the tang of your scent, his motions growing sloppier and sloppier as he envisioned himself in that all too familiar position: deep inside you, holding you tight, breathing you in.
A slew of whimpers would fall from his lips, muffled by the fabric, as his aching cock would shoot rope after rope of white, hot seed. Trickling down his strong hand, dripping onto his wrist as he sat there: breathing in your scent.
──────
- tauriel
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Taste. The captain of Mirkwood's guards had a very refined pallet. There was little that truly satisfied her taste buds, as many of their foods she deemed as bland and the wines lackluster.
But, there was one thing she craved. One thing she yearned to taste over and over again.
You.
The moment your lips entwined with hers, allowing her to taste that divine sweet taste upon her own, quenched her cravings. The lids of her emerald eyes would flutter shut; the warmth of your soft lips melding into hers would ease all tension from her.
Her tongue would graze your bottom lip as the kiss deepened, seeking out more of your taste as her strong hands rested upon your shoulders. A content hum would vibrate into your mouth as your lips part, allowing her to indulge in her cravings.
Cravings that she held for more than your lips. The training grounds flooded with the harmony of your breathless moans; the sensation of your hands tugging at her hair filled her senses as she continued to pleasure your sensitive area.
A pleased hum would vibrate against your nether regions, sending a shiver down your spine as her tongue continued to navigate your sensitivity. The bitter tang of you filled her mouth, making her moan in pleasure against your flesh as she buried her face further into you.
A faint sting of her nails digging into the flesh of your hips would fill your senses, earning a faint hiss to fall from your soft lips as she continued to lap away at your sensitivity. The sound of her pleased hums growing as loud as your moans, the training grounds filled with the pleasure-filled melody as the elven guard indulged in her cravings.
Her tongue would move faster, lips pausing to suck against the sensitive flesh, causing a wave of pleasure to surge through your body. The knot within your stomach would snap, sending that familiar static of pleasure to rush within your veins.
A grin would spread upon her lips as your sweet nectar filled them, her tongue seeking out every last ounce of the heavenly liquid as she continued to lick and suck until there was none left for you to give.
And for nights without you, she would find other ways to fill her cravings.
There was a dish she claimed tasted like you, a dish she would spend hours perfecting to be to her taste. The sight of her, legs sprawled wide on the bed, a silver platter of food beside her, a hand between her thighs, and the other grabbing from the platter.
The halls would tingle with the soft harmony of a gentle squelch from betwixt her thighs, her slender fingers gliding in and out of her soaked core as she bit into the food. A moan would be muffled by the food within her mouth, chewing it as slowly as the slender fingers that pumped inside of her.
The gentle stretch of her fingers delving deep into her core was nothing compared to the heavenly stretch of your fingers, nor was the dish as divine as your taste, yet that did not detour the elven guard from getting her fill.
Her fingers would move faster, food falling upon her chest as her inner thighs would clench around her hand. The gasps of her pleasures momentarily stalled as she swallowed down the delectable dish, envisioning it was you upon her lips.
Her inner walls would flutter and spasm around her fingers, drenching her fingers and hand with her sweet nectar as she lay on the bed. Legs still spread wide, the platter beside her, and a yearning for your taste.
──────
- thranduil
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Touch. The elven king wasn't necessarily fond of familiar greetings. He didn't see the point in them: handshakes, headbutting, and worse of all, hugs. The elven king saw no purpose in such juvenile greetings. 
In his mind, there was no purpose for his skin to touch another, for his warmth to mix with theirs. They were a waste of time, nothing more.
However, there was one whose touch was like a soothing balm to his aching heart. A touch that allowed his view of familiar greetings to crumble.
Your touch.
The moment he felt your soft hand within his, the soothing sensation of your fingers resting within the gaps of his fingers, the elven king would soften. The sharpness of his steel-blue eyes would ease as his gaze fell upon the sight of your palm pressed against his.
His thumb would glide upon the smooth skin of the back of your hand, tracing the path of your knuckle to the crook of your thumb. The weight of the day would ease away as he held your hand tightly, his free hand encasing the other side of yours as if it were the most precious gem within his collection.
A grasp all too familiar to you. One you would often feel upon your wrists as the king held you on to the smooth silks on his bed, his throbbing cock carving itself deep within your sensitive walls as the bed creaked with each sharp thrust his hips made.
His free hand would glide down upon your side, tracing the path to your upper thigh as he brought your hands to his lips, pressing his thin lips against the smooth flesh that separates your wrist and your thumb as he continues to drive his hips into yours.
He'd free one of your wrists, allowing it to fall onto the smoothness of the bed as he placed the one within his grasp up to his toned chest, allowing you to feel the contrast of smooth skin within the sea of scars his chest held from previous battles.
"Touch me." The words would be a breathless plea as if he was a poor sinner who had spent endless hours begging for forgiveness, yet all he was begging for was the warmth of your touch.
His eyes would loop back into his skull, the weight of his head falling backward as he'd feel your hand glide down from his chest towards his lower abdomen. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten from your touch, how his hips would stall for a moment before driving into you even harder.
"More." He'd command, his hips bucking into yours relentlessly as he lost himself in the sea of your touch. You would be able to feel every inch of his cock twitching with pleasure whenever you'd move your hand; the smooth glide of your skin against his was utter perfection.
The twitching of his cock would come to a halt as he painted your inner walls white with his seed. The small circles you traced upon his lower abdomen would send him over the edge of pleasure. Sharp hisses of pleasure would escape his lips as you'd feel his body quivering beneath your touch, trembling just as a leaf would in the wind.
And for nights without your touch, he would improvise.
The sight of the elven king sat upon his bed, legs spread as his hand glid up and down his throbbing cock. The faint twinkle of the candlelight reflecting against the delicate bracelet upon his wrist caught within the corner of his eye, a bracelet which was an exact copy of the one he had given you.
The delicate metal charm upon it would often tap against his massive cock as he continued his stroking motions as a chill would roam down his spine as the lids of his steel-blue eyes would flutter close.
His lips parted, mouth falling open, allowing for each groan of pleasure to escape his lips with no resistance as the air filled with the squelch of his hand upon his cock, and the faint jingle of the bracelet bouncing upon his wrist.
His cock would glisten, covered in a cream specially crafted to keep your skin as soft and smooth as he enjoyed it. The whiteness of the cream mixed with the whiteness of his seed as his brows knitted together.
He would continue to revel in the sensations, envisioning your hands upon his cock, your touch, as the tightness within his abdomen would continue to strain until it finally snapped.
A hiss of pleasure would escape his lips, his head tilting backward as the heat of his seed drenched his hand, trickling down upon the bracelet. Envisioning it was yours instead.
──────
Want to read one part at a time? Read separately on AO3
Legolas, Tauriel, Thranduil
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
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Text
Masterlist
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Thorin Oakenshield x reader
Smoke, Iron, and Thorin (Ongoing)
Chapter 1- Smoke, Iron, and Thorin
Chapter 2- I Wasn't Completely Nude
Chapter 3- Anger Translator
Chapter 4- Like We Used To Be
Chapter 5- Care to Make a Wager?
Chapter 6- Owe You One
Chapter 7- The Voice of Hunger
Chapter 8- You Love Bread
Chapter 9- Good Girl
Chapter 10- What We Left Behind in the Flames
Chapter 11- At Least We'll Be Together
Chapter 12- The Wandering Widow
Chapter 13- Knock Before Entering
chapter 14- coming soon
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iheartlegolas · 1 year
Text
𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ pairing: legolas x fem!reader
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ warnings: alcohol consumption, smut (MDNI pls), very light breathplay/choking
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ word count: 2.9k
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ synopsis: there's no better place to be than in the bedchambers of the elven prince, as he eagerly yearns to give you a night you'll ask him to relive
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫note: it's time ! my first smut to ever be written & shared, thank u all for ur patience, please accept my apologies for posting the preview and then dipping without a trace…lol i largely underestimated my ability to write smut so i truly hope that you enjoy (and that it’s readable) ok ily bye enjoy!
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The chill of the autumnal night establishes itself upon your skin, its reluctant air depriving you of warmth as you stifle a shiver that forces its way to your spine. You stand, leaning onto a tree carved into a grand pillar, concealed from the crowd's gaze with a clear view of the crisp sky in front of you. Your head turns to the elves glittering about in the grand hall, their hands holding glasses filled with wine. Elven wine. A sheepish smile finds you, the gilded rim of the glasses delivering memories of your first time of having made the soon to be realised mistake; the consumption of the potent liquid. 
Your head snaps back to the stars as recollection inches closer, taste buds reminded of its lightness and sweet taste of berries which proved to be a mere facade. Ignoring the gentle warnings Legolas whispered to you as you were handed a drink, playfully brushing them off as you welcomed the wine into your mouth. The faces of bewilderment and suppressed laughs as you drunkenly clung to the Prince all evening, plastering his neck and face with kisses, speaking incoherent nonsense into his ear, his arms catching you every time with an all too familiar ease as you tripped on air over and over again. 
Your eyes are struck by the face of the moon, feeling a shudder come over you. The moon being the only other witness to the night that followed as the Prince ended your attendance to the party prematurely—the moment you began tugging at his tunic, your whispers becoming coherent and too indiscreet for any ear not belonging to him to hear. His hands claimed you once your eager pleas were out of the average Elf's range of sight and sound, his mouth beckoning you to be quiet with his kiss. The warmth of the summer air and its moonlight draping your nude form as you laid atop his discarded tunic, a makeshift bed on the forest floor. 
You tighten the grip on your chalice filled with non alcoholic drink, the aching heat in your core daring to consume you as you recall the way his head dipped in between your thighs, his tongue softer than the moss you clutched. You sigh at his absence, pulling away from the moon's trance as an unavoidable wave of longing claims you, staring into the liquid of your drink. You bring it to your mouth, the brim of the chalice is cool on your lips as you force a swallow and your insides cringe at its lack of something stronger. Then, drinking more as your attempts to not think of him fail, your mind on the tips of his fingers grazing across your back, his eyes resting as his arms held you against his chest, his calmed heartbeat lulling you to sleep. You swallow the final sip, setting the chalice down. Thirst crawls its way back to your mouth.
The overwhelming sensation of sobriety prods at you with the sharpness of a blade.
Your memory becomes clouded with interruption as a gentle pair of arms envelop you from behind. A smile eases onto your lips as his chin rests on your shoulder, smelling traces of wine in his breath. Your shoulders relax as they lean into his embrace, "At last, the Prince has graced me with his presence." You speak with words drenched in playful sarcasm, drawing out a deep chuckle. 
"I have been searching for you." 
You turn to face him, your eyes failing to resist the temptation to become distracted by the moonlight that comfortably rests upon his porcelain skin. Seconds pass and you finally allow yourself to blink, your lips pursing with accusation, "And it appears you got lost in a wine cellar." 
His forehead inches to rest against yours, dwindling your yearning into a distant memory as he hums in response. "I've missed you." He breathes, sliding his hand from your waist to the side of your neck. You lean into his touch, his hand feeling irresistibly soft despite lifetimes of yielding his bow. 
"I must insist that you disobey the King's orders the next time he dares to pull you away from me for longer than a fortnight." You brush your lips against his, exchanging breaths. Silence fills the air, freeing you of the sounds of the King's autumnal celebration, harps echoing away from your ears. Your lips meet his—the kiss you’ve been waiting for, warm, soft. An urge strikes you and you depart from him before he grasps the opportunity to light the kiss ablaze, "Unless you'd like me to beg." 
A hand slips into the back of your neck, bringing you back to his mouth. You taste berries on his tongue as it enters your mouth. You moan into him, hands flying to grip his shoulders for strength against your weakening knees. 
The noise of the guests pull him away, his vision scanning for a pair of eyes lurking, a wandering ear to hear your desires meant only for him. A stream of cheers and refills invades the invisible shield you created for the both of you, proving to be ineffective. You tug at the thick, velvet-like material of his tunic, feeling spoiled as his face turns to yours with concern, albeit realising as he catches your parting lips, sensing your want. 
His hand reaches for yours, leading you into the dimly lit forest on a path most familiar. You trail behind him, his quickening pace and strong grip failing to pay any notice to the fallen leaves that stick to the silken material of your dress, the thorns from the bushes tearing almost too easily into the delicate cloth. The path brightens as you near a reentrance to the Elven King's halls, the forest pathway discreetly allowing the quickest way to your destination. Footfalls become more hurried as you smile with glee, a fistful of your dress clenches in your hand to prevent a fall into the moistened ground. You yelp above a tree vein with a mission to bring you to the earth's floor, "Legolas!" You laugh, eyes dashing to him as he falters. His frame towers over you, blending in with the surrounded oaks. 
His hand softens into yours as he halts, placing his other onto the side of your neck, a thumb strokes your warmed cheek, "Forgive my eagerness, my starlight." 
Your mouth opens in response, only allowing for a gasp to escape as his arms lift you from the ground, carrying on with haste until you are brought to his bedchambers at last. A sharp inhale penetrates you as his lips collide with yours, the shutting of the door reverberating through the room as you allow his hands to untie the cords of your dress, pulling you closer to him as it loosens against your skin. He releases himself from your lips, his kiss drifting to your ear. 
His hands move to the sides of your face, "My little star," He whispers, his lips brushing against yours as you shiver, "Will you grant me my desire to please you tonight?" 
His hardened length dares to distract you from his words, "Yes," you say, before your breath bids your lungs farewell as the simple act of breathing becomes a foreign concept. Your dress inches off of your shoulders under the command of his careful fingers, an eager gaze following his every move. Goosebumps rise as more of your skin is revealed to him, impatience stirring within your dampening core as he stops to plant kisses along your collarbone. "You cannot rush me into your chambers and undress me so slowly. It is torture." You whine. A deep chuckle vibrates against your neck before his hands grip your dress, pulling. The fine fabric you once adored turns to an unshapely mess as it hits the floor, and a sigh of relief waiting to be freed withdraws from your mouth. Strong arms hoist you up with the haste you crave, his mouth back on yours as he plants you onto the soft covers of the bed. Your hips raise to meet his cock, resulting in a groan and his tongue enters your mouth. His palm grips your thigh, and you watch with half lidded eyes as his mouth leaves yours to venture to your chest. His tongue caresses your breast, a gentle massage that sends your hand flying to his tresses and disturbs the neatness, moaning as his tongue swirls around your hardened nipple. His head rises, a lustful gaze searching for your eyes as they open, fondling your breast with his hand. He flashes you a smile and leaves a hot kiss on your neck, rising from his position above you to sit against the head of the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbow and look at him, unsure of why he stopped, mouth opening in question.
"Come." 
You lift to your hands and knees, your gaze falling to the outline of his cock as you crawl. His hand grabs your wrist before it reaches and he turns you away from him, your back sinking into his chest. His hand is on your neck as you settle onto him. Your breath becomes uneven, watching his free hand slide down to your core and reach the hem of your undergarment. You help him remove the final piece, entirely exposed as your bare body warms against his attire. 
"Tell me, my little star," He whispers into your ear as his fingers find your clit, sliding his tongue across the tip of your ear while you melt deeper into him, "Did you touch yourself while I was away?" 
You shudder, feeling his fingers glide across the wetness that gathered in your core, whimpers escaping from your lips as his slickened fingers begin to circle your clit, hips lightly jolting to swallow his touches. You moan, throwing your head back into his chest. His grip tightens around your neck, fingers pressing gently to the sides to coax an answer.
You whimper, the sounds of your wetness brought to your ears, "Yes." You moan, gasping as his pace quickens. 
You feel a smile against your skin, writhing against his strong hold, arching as the incomings of an orgasm begins to burn within you—then he stops. Your hand falls to the sheets, a whine forming in your throat.
“Show me.” Legolas says, his voice low, fingers rising from your cunt to rest upon your breast, “Touch yourself.”
You hum softly, turning to face him with a look of question, your cheeks burning with heat at his command. He’s serious—lips curled into a subtle smirk, his eyes exploring the expanse of your shivering body—all while his hand remains wrapped around your neck. Your hand rises, fingers grazing your abdomen, lowering slowly to your aching cunt. A deep inhale enters you as your eyes close, leaning your head back into him as you start to pleasure yourself. Heat overtakes your entire body as it burns against his, soft moans slipping out of your mouth as his words of encouragement—“good girl” “just like that, little dove” “show me how good it feels”—spill into your ear, prompting you to hasten your touches. His hand travels down to your clit in favour of replacing yours, which you gladly retract as it flies to grip the sheets, surrendering under his fingers. A wave of pleasure washes over you, gasping as an orgasm arrives. The Prince is intent on driving you mad with pleasure as he continues circling your delicate pearl, but your trembling hand seizes his wrist, whimpering with a weak effort to bring a pause to his pace, "Legolas." 
His fingers settle down into a leisure pace while your heartbeat struggles to calm itself in its enclosure. "Were you not eager for me to pleasure you?" He toys in a deep tone. 
"I want you inside of me." You breathe, your grip loosens on his wrist as your muscles remember how to function, the tenseness possessing your body finding relief as his fingers stop. You shift, turning to face him, cheeks heating at the sight of his face. You resist the urge to grind against his lap as you work on removing his attire, straddling him with a timidness that he finds irresistibly adorable. You avoid the wolfish smile tugging at his lips, your mouth watering as his tunic comes undone, unsteady hands reaching to explore his toned chest. 
"After all the moments we shared," He inches closer, fingers raising your chin. Your eyes meet his, weakening under his gaze, "You still remain coy as though it was the first time." 
Vision blurs from his face to the ceiling as he flips your body to lay against the soft covers of the bed. He rises and stands at the foot of the bed, gaze towering above your splayed form with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. You engage in the act of watching him as he takes the role of undressing himself, staring in awe while your insides flutter as your hand awaits restlessly to feel his cock. His return to you is quick, gratefulness erupting within when his mouth devours you with a fervent kiss. A tongue caresses yours before interruption strikes him with a moan, a sensual stroke of your hand treading dangerously along the length of him. Your fingers curl around him, raising your hips to tease his cock with the wetness of your dripping pussy—but he stops you, restraint apparent on his clenched jaw as he resists the desire to sink his cock into you, dragging his lips to the expanse of your chest, then lowering as his hands stroke your thighs, parting them. You watch as he presses kisses to your inner thighs, reaching to grab hold of his hair. His mouth moves to your core, his warm breath fanning over your cunt. You throw your head back and moan as his tongue licks along your heat, tasting the remnants of your orgasm then trailing up to suckle on your clit. His hand slides up to your breast as he slips two fingers inside of you, curling in upward motions and sending you into bliss. His name releases from your mouth through soft whines, his tongue bringing trembles trickling into your thighs. Your hips roll into his mouth with delicate force, clutching the covers as you moan through the orgasm he brings you. You loosen, laying slack as you take deep breaths, the wondrous exhaustion of being sent to heaven a second time has caught hold of you. He kisses your thigh with tender touches of his hands, then rises to meet you. Your arms wrap around him in embrace, pulling him into a kiss while his cock prods at your thigh. He reaches down to align himself with your core, saturating his length with your wetness. You rock your hips against him as it slides along your slit, whimpering in desperation for him to fill you whole. The head of his cock pushes into your cunt, and a moan leaves his mouth as he buries himself into you, reaching for your hand and enclosing his fingers with yours as he pins it above you. You moan with him as his thrusts grow deeper, pulling him close. A cry escapes your lips and your walls clench around him, raking your nails across his back with quivering lips. You love the familiarity of it all—how he knows every delicate spot to drive into over and over again, the control over your body that he masterfully possesses. His thumb trails across your lower lip as his eyes drink in the sight of you beneath him, your writhing body and nipples brushing against his chest, clinging onto him with your arms while you fill the room with sounds of your pleasure as he pumps in and out of you. 
Moments like this are dragged to a wish for eternity as his palm cradles your cheek, his thrusts slowing in an attempt to prolong your bliss—and all you can do is stare into those captivating hues as your vision blurs before your eyes shut. Your mouth parts, soundless save for the shaking of your breaths, a trembling hand reaches for the back of his neck as you shudder into your climax, the walls of your heat convulsing around his girth. "Fill me." A beg cries from your tongue, “Please.” You whimper, cheeks burning.
Your words bring a groan to his lips as his composure crumbles. His cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed into you, dipping his head down to meet your lips for a kiss—messy, with broken breaths in between, pressing his forehead against yours. 
The subtle tremble of your thighs remains as he finally pulls out after a tender moment with his head rested in the crook of your neck. He pulls the covers to your bodies, reaching to bring you closer. You nestle into him and sigh with contentment, cheeks stamped with heat that has finally begun to cool. His fingers graze the expanse of your back under the covers, lips pressing light kisses into your neck. Your eyes close, heavy with sleep, releasing calming breaths that mingle with his as he gazes upon the sight of your face, “Gi melin.” He says and kisses your forehead, resting his chin above your head as sleep claims you. 
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──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ translations
elvish - english
gi melin - i love you
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ taglist: @actualnymph @celestialuna13 @silversword7000 @starbirdfinch @summerannabelle @quackquackmfs @legolaswhore @iaur @straysugzhpe @idk-whatamidoinglmao @desert-fern @suddenlyperson @zealousfartsandwich
(some usernames aren’t able to be tagged so if you joined the taglist and didn’t get tagged pls lmk)
──⠀۪ ♡ ۫ did u enjoy?
♡ pls leave a like, comment, or reblog ! ↷ 
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mikathemonster · 7 months
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could you do fili with praise for kinktober please💞💞
kinktober, episode 1 <3
author's note: the way I am so numb and horny after writing this means I desperately need to go touch some grass. anyways, I'm so excited to start off kinktober with a cute Fíli drabble <3 feel free to request more if this one really got y'all going :) enjoy!
Pairing: Fíli / Gender-neutral Reader
Word Count: 850
summary: porn without any plot in sight <3
content warnings: nsfw, cowgirl/riding, needy/whiny men, need I say more?
DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.
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“You’re taking me so well,” he cooed as you slowly eased yourself along his length. The pleasure was more than enough to send you reeling as you grinded down on top of his lap.
“I always do,” you hummed, setting a slow pace as you savored the feeling of him filling you up. “Don’t I, Fíli?”
He looked at you with half-lidded eyes as he watched you take all of him, smiling when you wrapped one of your hands in his hair to anchor yourself. “Fuck, ghivashel…”
His eyes rolled back for a moment from the feeling of your cunt sucking him in, a mixture of your arousal and his pre-cum already making a mess where you two were connected. 
With a playful smirk, you positioned his head to face you dead on. “Come on, now. Don’t grow quiet now, love. Tell me how good I’m making you feel, hm?”
He pulled you close, chuckling as he planted kisses along your neck. “You always look so gorgeous when you’re like this.” His hands found purchase on your sides, massaging circles along your hips as he watched you take him so deliciously. 
Your pace quickened at the praise, deciding to reward him for his good behavior. “And?”
His breathing was becoming slightly uneven now and it was taking all of his willpower to not turn the tides and pound you into the mattress. Gods, the things you did to him were enough to drive him crazy. 
“A-and,” he paused, a moan ripping out of him as you slammed your hips against his. “That’s it, right there. Please, don’t stop now. You’re perfect.”
His kisses were becoming more sloppy against your skin as he teased one of your nipples with his tongue, eliciting a moan out of you as you leaned into his touch. You tightened your grip on his hair and smiled at the way he melted into the palm of your hand. Just the sight of him desperately trying to keep it together was enough to make you even wetter as you continued bouncing on his cock. 
“Ahh, please,” he whined, bucking his hips up into you, reaching deeper inside you as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, your moans and heavy breathing only warming his ears. “Y/N, it’s like you were made for me, for this… Nobody else can fuck me the way you do.”
A sharp cry came from you as a padded thumb found your clit, rubbing gently in tandem with his thrusts and your grinding. “Fuck, Fíli, you’re doing so good. Keep talking, please.” 
Between his whining voice and the sheer pleasure of you riding him, you could tell you were getting close. 
And between your dominating attitude and the way your pussy was drowning his cock, he was also very close to the brink. 
But that dominating attitude was quickly whittling away with every thrust of your lover as he bullied his cock deeper inside you, going faster and harder as he sent you bouncing on his cock. Your hands moved to steady themselves on his shoulders, digging your nails and leaving red marks on his war-scarred skin just to anchor yourself as best as possible.
“You’re driving me wild, Y/N–” He was barely keeping himself coherent now as his thrusts sent you bouncing on his cock with such intensity that you were starting to go dumb. “Fuck, I’m getting close now.”
“Fíli, don’t stop,” you pleaded, biting into his shoulder now to keep yourself from melting into his violent pacing. “Come on now, we can hang in there a little longer, hm?”
He let out a guttural moan at your words, knowing it would be more fun if he complied. 
“Anything for you, ghivashel,” he whined in between thrusts, trying his best to hold out. “Gods, you’re so warm, so tight. You’re so fucking perfect. I could fuck you like this forever–”
More babbling spewed from your lover’s lips as he lost himself in the overwhelming pleasure of your pussy pulsing around his length as you came. 
Your grip on his shoulders tightened as his name was all you could scream, his thrusts slowing down enough for you to ride your high before quickly speeding back up so he could chase his own. Tears brewed in your eyes as the overstimulation was starting to hit you, feeling so sensitive that pain and pleasure seemed one and the same now. You bit his shoulder harder this time, knowing it would certainly leave a mark in the morning, and the next few thrusts led to him painting your walls white. 
A mixture of him and you was beginning to leak out from where you were connected as the two of you could only swallow each other’s moans in the sloppiest kiss imaginable. His hands rubbing soothing circles into your back now as your own moved to massage his now tender shoulders.
“Shall we keep going?” You grinned, feeling him begin to grow hard again as you moved yourself against him.
“Give me just a moment to recover,” he breathed. “But absolutely.”
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itsonlydana · 1 month
Text
"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway" | hobbit
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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
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"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.
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fantasyworld4ever · 28 days
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Thranduil NSFW alphabet
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Gentle and sweet. He’d caress you and assure you he loved you and that you were absolutely perfect. Maybe just a little smug though
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Your waist, he loves to rest his hand on your waist as it is a subtle motion and he’s able to comfort you without it being seen as “overly affectionate” as he is a king.
His hands, he loves to see how much pleasure he can give you just from his fingers alone and he enjoys the way you tremble beneath his touch.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He WILL cum inside you. He doesn’t want a drop to be wasted. He’ll last a few rounds, at least 3 rounds but he can go longer if you wish it. His cum is a milky white and there’s a LOT of it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves when you ask for gentle and tender sex. He feels honored you feel that safe with him to allow him that.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Very experienced. He had a wife so he obviously knows what to do. He knows exactly what to do to get you begging for more.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary. He loves to look at you as he fucks you. Loves to wrap his hand around your throat and watch as you come undone beneath him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Serious. He wants to make sure you realize that he’s present and there for you. He can be goofy at times but he is mainly serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Hairless everywhere (except for his head ofc, he loves his elegant, long hair)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Praise. Just praise. He loves to praise you. “Look how good you’re taking me.” “You’re so beautiful like this” “You feel so good, Meleth. You take me so well.”
He’ll degrade you as well, a smirk on his face as he does so, knowing you love it. “Such a pretty little slut for me, only good for this.” “That’s it. Such a good whore for your king, hmm?”
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t do it often. He doesn’t like to unless you’re watching then he’ll gladly do it. However, unless he’s away on a long trip (war etc.) he won’t do anything.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He loves to degrade you. He definitely has a bit of a choking kink, watching you submit completely to him really gets him going.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He loves to take you on his throne, gives him a bit of a thrill to see you lain across his throne, moaning as he thrusts into you.
His chambers would be his top place though. He loves the privacy of his room, it creates a certain intimate atmosphere unable to be found elsewhere. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Piss him off. Challenge him.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He would never share you. Never. Not once in a million years. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers to give, he loves to please you and watching as you lose yourself beneath his tongue increases his smugness. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rough and hard. He’ll grip your hips so tight until there’s bruising the next morning. He wants to hear you scream his name. He wants everyone to knows who you belong to.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not fond of it. He wants to pay proper attention to you. But, if you really want to, he’ll do it, for you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Open to experimenting as long as he isn’t the one in submission.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Quite long. He’s a warrior, what do you expect? He does love to drag out the foreplay though.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn’t like them. He wants to be the only one pleasing you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Not too much of a tease as he doesn’t have the patience for it nor does he particularly see the appeal in teasing for too long.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Loud. Just loud. Moans, growls, everything.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
If he’s away for a long time, he’ll write you letters detailing every single thing he dreams of doing to you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Larger than average length with a nice thick girth. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Not too horny but if you ask he’s immediately in the mood for it.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He always makes sure you fall asleep first. No exceptions.
{As always requests are always open! Hope ya’ll enjoyed!!}
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Hey can i ask Thranduil and (human) f!reader smut? When f!reader can't stare at his eyes because she's very shy and insecure with her expression during *cough cough* Thank you!
I'm sorry about that one with Thranduil x f!reader cant-stare-at-his-face that i didn't addresed my 'smut rating'? Anyway🔥🔥
It's all good. Time for some more Thranduil smut. Because it's Thranduil. And smut. I'll stop now.
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"The looking glass"
✵Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Human / Second person POV)
✵Themes: Smut / Soft 
✵Warnings: Insecure / Shy reader | Kissing | Praise | Body worship | Mirror sex | Fingering (fem receiving)
✵Word count: 1.3k words
✵Summary: Thranduil comes up with a unique "solution" when he realises how shy his partner is in bed.
✵Rating: 🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+
Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.
If you liked this, please consider reblogging it.
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Thranduil gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. "Sweet starlight, why do you turn your face from me?"
You said nothing, your cheeks merely burning with embarrassment. Thranduil’s question should have surprised you, but it did not. Whenever you shared pleasures with the king, he would want to look into your eyes, and you would inevitably close them and turn away. Before this night, he did not ask why you did it, and now? Now he wanted some sort of explanation.
Of course, you had an explanation, just one, but that embarrassed you even more.
"Starlight?" Thranduil was not about to let this go. "Why do you look away?"
You hummed quietly and sat up, flushing when the king sat up with you. "I… umm… that is…" you stumbled over your words, your tongue tied up in knots. Thranduil studied you with barely disguised curiosity while you fidgeted with the hem of your robe. "The thing is… I…" you buried your face in your hands and sighed. "I am not sure you would like how I look when we… when we…"
Understanding dawned, and Thranduil smiled when he heard a muffled scream. "Starlight," he pulled your hands away from your face. "Is that what troubles you? That I might be repulsed by the expressions you make when making love?"
You nodded meekly, still too embarrassed to face him. Thranduil kept smiling and looked around, his gaze skimming over the chamber before it rested on something that caught his eye and piqued his interest—something that gave him an idea. "Stay here," he said, and rose out of bed.
You raise your head, wondering what he was up to. The answer presented itself soon enough with the sound of wood creaking. Thranduil had hefted a large silvered-looking glass, one that was taller than him, and brought it over, placing it at the foot of the bed with a soft thud.
"There," he huffed, dusting his hands before joining you in bed. "That should do nicely."
You studied your reflection in the shimmering glass and gulped. "Do nicely for what, my love?"
Thranduil smiled—a slow, wicked smile—before making himself comfortable next to you. "I want you to see, starlight," he breathed huskily, and he helped you to your knees, his arm around your waist. "I want you to see that there is nothing for you to hide. I want you to see how much I enjoy seeing you while I pleasure you—that there is nothing for you to be shamed by. Now, will you permit me to go further?"
The very idea of it—watching him in the reflection of that looking glass while he pleasured you—was just so shocking, so very sinful, and more than a little daunting. It made you nervous to watch him like this, to have him look up and watch you; you were unsure you could do it. Still, you could not keep averting your gaze every night, so you came to a decision and nodded. "Yes. You can go further."
Thranduil’s eyes blazed in the dim candlelight, his hands reaching over to your robe. You felt it—the heat of his breath against the nape of your neck when he moved slightly behind you, the warmth of his hands that radiated through your silks. And you kept still, so very still, your gaze fixed on the looking glass.
The king took his time, untying the belt of your robe and drawing it away, exposing what lay beneath. "You look like a painting, starlight," he murmured, his hands sliding over to your belly. "Your body is so perfect, like you had stepped out of a vision."
Helpless and stunned, you continued to keep still, unable to tear your eyes away from what you were witnessing in the looking glass. Thranduil’s hand moved up, over to your breasts, running his fingers over your nipples over and over again until they started to throb and ache, and harden beneath his touch.
"Do you see it, starlight, how your body trembles?" Thranduil whispered, his touch persistent and demanding.
Flushed and breathless, you did indeed see it—how the muscles of your belly fluttered, how your entire body quivered. And there was Thranduil, his eyes darkening with lust, the need in his gaze matching the growing desire in yours. You felt it, growing prickles of pleasure all over your body, heat slowly pooling at your core. You blushed and instinctively tried to look away, but Thranduil caught it.
"Look into the looking glass, starlight," he crooned, his hand gliding down to the apex of your thighs. "And focus on me. I want you to see how high I could take you."
You raised your eyes and found his locked on yours. Embarrassment slowly morphed into something else, something dark and primal, when he moved his hand over to your slit and found it already hot and wet. His fingers moved in a slow, delicate rhythm, and his name parted your lips in almost a sob. You still couldn’t look away, not when he possessed you the way he did. Your body started to move against him; your hands moved to rest over his, and his groan, guttural and harsh, felt so sweet to your ears. 
"That is it, starlight," he rasped, his voice already roughened, when your first moan spilled free. "Show me how much you desire this."
Thranduil watched, utterly spellbound, as you came undone in front of him, how you sagged into him, your moans and mewls slowly turning to pleas. Pleas for more, pleas for him to go faster, to take you higher. He wanted to incite and inflame, to break down your walls, and he was amply rewarded when your hands pressed over his, to guide him. He slid a finger inside the warmth of your sex, then another, moving them inside you, slowly growing drunk on your needy moans.
"Th-thranduil," you whimpered shakily, all sense of shame now long forgotten. The sight of the woman in that looking glass, her body yielding to pleasure of the acutest kind, her eyes darkening with each deft stroke, was too beautifully erotic, and you took great pleasure in seeing it—how he pleasured you, how he took you higher and higher, like he promised.
"Do you see, sweet starlight?" Thranduil cooed sweetly, "Do you see you have nothing to hide? How much I delight in seeing you this way?"
How true he was, and how foolish you felt. And how Thranduil looked on, with lust-filled eyes, as if he were feasting on what he was seeing. "I do see," you breathed, harsh and ragged, the muscles in your belly coiling as your release neared. 
"Keep looking, starlight," Thranduil ran his tongue over your neck even as you trembled and he felt a tightening around his fingers. You were close, so very close. "See how beautiful you are even now."
And you looked on with heavy-lidded eyes as a wave of bliss rose higher and higher, as a sweet, delightful pressure grew stronger and stronger, unceasing, until it felt like your body splintered, and Thranduil’s name came out like a desperate, wanton cry. Your entire body shook against his as you slumped into him, your breath coming out in shallow pants. Thranduil held onto you, moaning softly as your walls contracted around his fingers, pulling them deeper. His gaze cut to the looking glass and found you, looking right back at him, your lips curling into a deep and satisfied smile.
"You were right," you murmured, your hands still over his. You turned to the side and found his lips just over yours. "There was nothing for me to be shamed by."
Thranduil leaned in and kissed you, his body humming with unsated need. "Absolutely nothing," he said, before helping you lay back in bed. "And now, starlight, I hope you will indulge me, by letting me make incredibly thorough love to you this night."
No longer plagued by your fears, you smiled and welcomed him into his arms.
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Tags: @shrasdust | @asianbutnotjapanese | @nupppuff | @ryantryan6969 | @lemonivall
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clarakiki · 1 month
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The spring revel
Thranduil x reader
Summary: Spring has come upon the Elvenking's realm and you know exactly how to celebrate it.
Genre: Fluff and Smut
Warnings: afab reader, no use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and the reader and Thranduil being drunk, explicit smut, children (? not yours just yeah, they're there)
Notes: Hello my loves <3. Coming back to you with many firsts in this fic. It is my first time writing for Thranduil (I have a Lotr phase and can't get him out of my head) and my first time writing smut. So please excuse if it's not that great, I will get better I promise. I appreciate your comments and kudos and I hope you'll enjoy <3
You dance under the trees.
The air is warm and sweet, the torches glow with golden fire and the wine is flowing freely. The lush green canopy hides the night sky above, making it feel like you are in a great hall. 
The spring revel has come upon Eryn Lasgalen, and you are drunk and happy and free. Your bare feet feel the soft grass and cool rock and your short dress sticks to your body while you dance around the hill. 
Other elves twirl and jump around you, they take your hands and laugh with you. Tonight the line between monarch and subject blurs. The lively music of pipes and flutes makes your head spin. 
At the head of a great carved table, which bends under the weight of fruit and soft bread and carafes of deep red wine, sits your husband, The Elvenking, and for once he seems to be enjoying himself. Upon his regal brow rests a crown of flowers and leaves and his lips are curled into a smile. His wine cup is never empty.
Perhaps that is the reason he lets the group of elf children prance around him. Some are singing to the music and dance around happily, some climb on his lap and look up at him with their big bright eyes. One child has dared to touch his crown and braid his hair. For once he lets them, for tonight is a time of celebration for everyone, both a king and a child.
The round ends and you can finally go rest for a moment. Your spent legs carry you towards your own throne, one set next to your husbands. It is a beautiful thing, spun from intertwining branches and adorned with carved writing. Budding blooms decorate the headrest.
With a sigh you plop yourself, rather ungracefully, into your seat. Before your husband can get a word out, the child sitting upon his lap starts: “Please my lady, come and dance with us.” The little boy pleads and others join him.
“Did you not ask your king to dance with you?” you ask, teasing them a little, for you know the answer. 
A choir of intermingling voices answers you, one over the other accusing their Elvenking of refusing them. You laugh quietly at their distress and at your husband's tired sigh. “Alright, dear children, I promise I will come and dance with you. But you have to promise me, to ask your mothers first and then to go to bed on time.” 
The little faces light up and soon they are all scrambling to find their parents. 
“You saved me, my love,” Thranduil laughs, a rare sight. “How was your dance? You seem already spent.” You know he is only joking and you decide to retaliate.
“Oh, it was wonderful,” you exaggerate. “It would be better, however, if a certain elf joined me for the next song?” It is meant only as a jest but he surprises you with his answer.
“Be good to me and I just might,” he voice is low and rich and it does things to you.
“Are you too deep in your cups, or are you teasing me?”
“Believe me, I know how to hold my liquor and I am totally serious,” he smirks and drinks from his cup. You want to kiss the smug look off of his face. You might just do that later tonight. No, you will.
“I shall hold you to that promise.”
“I have never doubted that, dearest, however I believe you already have a different partner for the next round.” He points towards the crowd and suddenly the elf children come running back to you.
You stand up, grab the chalice from Thranduil’s hands and take a deep swig of wine. It is rich and bitter and your face scrunches at the taste. “I will dance with you tonight,”  you warn your husband and let yourself be pulled away by a throng of laughing children.
The night has given away into the early hours of morning when you get back to Thranduil. The crowds have thinned, the music slowed and the elf children finally went to sleep.
“My love,” Thranduil says standing up, when he sees you. 
You come together like it’s second nature now. He embraces you around your middle and you hide your face in his chest. He smells sweetly of wine and flowers. You would drown in it if you could. 
He cups your face in his big hands and you look up into those cold cold eyes, warm only for you. “Are you ready to fulfil your promise?” you ask, voice low. 
He smiles at you like he does at no one else and your heart melts at the sight
“My king!” you exclaim drunkenly. “Let us dance around the hill one last time and after that I am ready to go to bed,” mumble the end of the sentence into his shoulder, your eyes already droopy. You feel him shake his head at your antics, but then he swoops down and kisses your forehead. You shiver at the gentle gesture. 
Thranduil, with you half leaning on him, leads you by your hand among the elves. A single lonely flute plays a slow melody, you feel entranced by it. The music and your husband's icy eyes lull you into a sleepy daze. 
You twirl in his arms and reach up to inhale his sweet scent, kissing his white throat. He hums above you and winds you to him even closer.
The air is warm and sweet and spring has come.
You are led back to your rooms by your husband, leaning on him, drowsy from both the dancing and the wine. 
You let yourself be lowered on the grand bed and look up at him with droopy eyes. “I want to kiss you,” you do not know if it's the wine giving you this courage or your sleepiness. 
Thranduil smiles at that, and it’s incredibly soft, and obliges you. He tastes like always, rich and full. “I love you,” you mumble into his lips. 
“And I you,” he answers, when he pulls away from you, setting himself gently above your thighs.
You don’t like that he is so far away, so you grab his hips and try to pull him back to you. “Please,” you whine. “Please-.”
“Use your words darling, you know I can’t read your mind,” he tuts above you, while starting to undo the lace on the front of your dress.
“Please touch me, I need you,” the fire is burning in your belly and you feel like you might burn if he doesn’t do something. Anything.
“Let me get you out of this dress first,” he promises and smirks, pleased with himself. His hands are careful, but sure, and soon the silky fabric of the bed covers caresses your skin. 
Then he stands up to undress himself. Reaching to take off his crown, he is a sight, naked, his brow adorned by flowers. Pale smooth skin and ice blue eyes. You swear he’s never been more beautiful than he is now.
“Come here, my love,” you say and he does. He lays over you and kisses you hungerly. You moan into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his silky hair, finding some of the braids the children left there. 
“Let me take care of you, dearest,” Thranduil whispers in your ear and you shiver at the thought. He trails kisses down and down until he reaches your thighs and licks and bites there until you're squirming under him, his strong hands pinning you down by the hips. 
“No more, just touch me,” you whine and pull at his scalp harshly.
To your horror Thranduil stops all together. He pulls himself up, your hands still in his hair. Above you he looks like a mythical being, one you should not have the honour to touch. 
“You have gotten so bold since we met. Commanding you king.”
With his slight smile and a teasing tone he brings you back to earth. “But you love that about me, my king,” you smirk at him.
“That is true, yes, but if I am to comply to you, and truly touch you like you want me to, you shall, let me tease you a little. As a treat,” oh, he sounds so proud, high and mighty. Yes he shall tease you, but you shall repay it tenfold.
With a satisfied smirk on his lips he returns to his task excruciatingly slow. He works you up again, lapping at your thighs, biting the skin there and holding you to the mattress by your waist. So the moment he does, finally tastes you with his tongue, it feels like you're going to burst. Dragon fire burns under your skin, unvanquishable, everlasting. Only he, Thranduil can save you. 
He is savouring your taste, as if it was sweeter than any wine he’s ever tasted. He builds you up to your peak slowly, taking his time, until tears of pleasure sting your eyes. The dam brakes, when you come from his mouth alone. It is deliciously painful.
Thranduil wipes his chin with his hand and lays next to you, circling his arms around you. You kiss him again, tasting yourself on his lips, reaching down to touch him. “Meleth nin,” he moans and you watch as his brows scrunch up and his blue eyes roll in pleasure.
You smile for yourself and kiss his neck, biting and sucking. The white skin goes dark quickly under your lips. In the end you don’t have the heart to deny him, and so you don’t tease him much. Still, he doesn't last long at all, for he was already bursting from eating you out. With a few final strokes he moans loudly and comes in your hand. 
You kiss for a time after that, but you both are too sleepy to continue properly. Thranduil, ever the gentleman, offers himself to go find a towel to clean you with. You would so like to watch him, as he prances around the room in all his glory, but you can’t hold your eyes open. You feel his gentle touches and hear his loving words, but at that you are already half asleep. The last you know is your husband pulling you to his embrace, holding you head to his chest.
You slumber as the dawn breaks.
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disasterofastory · 6 months
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Sandalwood and evergreens (Thranduil x Reader)
Sandalwood and evergreens Thranduil x Reader Warnings: porn without plot
Summary: You visit your King in his room.
A/N: I think this works as a one-shot but can be read as a part 2 for Leather and dust too.
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Your fingers tingle as you curl them into a fist to knock on the thick, wooden door in front of you. The repeating sound echoes off the walls, and for a moment, you almost turn around to run as far as you can. Back to your room. Or back to the library. You have to force yourself to stay and wait because a big, aching part of you wants to stay and wait, even though the rapid beating of your heart and the rushing of your blood says otherwise.
You don't have to wait long for the door to open in front of you with the elven king behind it.
He still wears the same clothes he wore a few hours before but without his crown and robe. His tunic is tucked inside his pants that stretch on his thick thighs. Heat creeps up on your face when you find yourself looking all over him. When your eyes jump up to his face, a smirk is already playing on his lips. "My king," you break the silence first. "Come in," he replies, stepping away from the entrance just enough to let you in, but you still have to brush against him. "Thank you," you tell him, letting yourself look around his space.
Thranduil's room is messy. Books and parchments gather in piles on the nightstand next to his bed and on his desk. His bed is large, occupying most of the space in his room. Soft blankets and pillows cover it. There are two more doors, but they are closed.
"Did you think about me?" His question comes suddenly and much closer than he was a few moments ago. Grabbing your hips, he makes you face him. His hands stay on you. "Yes," you nod, avoiding his eyes. Your last encounter with the king is still vivid in your mind. "Good," he smiles, cupping your jaw to make you look at him. Confidence and smugness glint in his blue eyes. "I thought about you too." "Oh?" You breathe out. You are frozen. Completely at his mercy, and he knows that. "I smelled you on my finger all day," he groans, leaning closer. "Imagining how may you taste on my tongue." His words alone are enough to make you burn and ask similar questions. How would he feel between your legs? Would he be rough or gentle? "Can I kiss you?" He asks, shocking you once again. Your eyes widen as you meet his gaze. You were sure he would throw you on his bed to make you his. "Yes," you croak out your answer. "Please."
He is dominant and commanding. He barely gives you enough time to get used to his lips on yours. He is already pushing his tongue inside your mouth. His whole presence hovers above you, demanding your submission and need. His large hands squeeze your hips, tugging you closer until your body is pressed against his. You can feel his erection digging into your front. "Take off your clothes," Thranduil says against your lips, and without waiting for your reaction, he already reaches behind you to untie your dress. Meanwhile, his lips never leave yours. There is a tug on your arms, and before you know it, your dress pools around your legs, leaving you bare in front of the king's eyes. His heavy gaze rakes over your body, pausing here and there to appreciate every dip and curve you have. "I imagined them in a different shade," he says, flicking his thumb over your nipple with a click of his tongue. You are trembling with anticipation. He gropes your chest, playing with the weight of your tits and playing with the hard peaks. Thranduil circles and pinches them until you moan and let your head fall backward. One of his hands slips to the back of your head, pulling you into another feverish kiss. It's much more impatient now. All teeth and tongue. The thrusts of his tongue light the fire between your legs, making your thighs clench for some friction.
"Lay down on the bed," he instructs you. "Good," he hums, watching you do as he says while he takes off his tunic. The dim candlelights illuminate the curve of his muscles. The yellow hue glides over his wide chest. His flawless, pale skin seems even more beautiful. The bedsheets are soft under you and smell like him. Something spicy you don't recognize, elven wine, sandalwood, and evergreens. The mix covers your senses, pushing you more deeply in desperation for the man standing at the end of the bed. "Open your legs." Comes another order. Your thighs shake as you brace your heels against the bed as open your legs. The air seems freezing in contrast with the heat of your pussy. A muffled hiss escapes your closed lips in sync with the low groan coming from Thranduil. His gaze is dark and hungry as he unbuckles his trousers. You even forget how to breathe as you watch him taking out of his cock. He is thick and already hard. "Don't!" He says when you move, to close your legs for some friction. The ache in your pussy is almost too much to bear. "I want to see you. I imagined you so many times like this. Laying in my bed, wet for my cock." His hand moves up and down on his erection the whole time he talks. You watch him mesmerized. The tip of his cock glints with his pre-cum. "I can't wait to taste you." "Please, my King," you cry out. Your hands tear on the covers under you. "Do it! Please!" It seems like your quiet plea is enough for Thranduil because not even a second later, he climbs up to the bed between your legs. His large hands slide up on your legs, groping and massaging your flesh all the way to your thighs. "So soft," he hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee. His gaze wanders on your naked body the whole time. Your eyes shine with desire, and your lips are open and swollen. You are even more beautiful than he imagined. "And smells so good," he groans, adjusting himself close to your pussy. His warm breath fans over your center, making you clench around nothing. Your juices already made a mess between your legs, and Thranduil's closeness doesn't help at all. His tongue swipes up on your slit with a swift motion. Your hips buckle at the sudden feeling, and Thranduil has to grab you to keep you in place. He feasts on your pussy with such force it drives you close to madness. He buries his face into your heat, devouring you with every swirl and flick of his tongue. His long fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, and his hair falls on your skin like a veil. A deep groan escapes his lips when you reach out to him. The blonde strands are soft between your fingers. The sound vibrates inside you, making you arch your back until it hurts. "Thranduil," you cry his name. "I need more." "Not yet," he grunts. His lips close around your clit to suck on the sensitive bud. For a moment, you can't even see. Tears run down your cheeks, and your quiet sobs mix with the slurping sound coming from the blonde elf.
"I can't believe you are here," he says. "You are so beautiful, Y/N, so responsive." With every flick of his thumb on your clit, you shake and jerk. The hot coil in your stomach burns and drags you deeper and deeper. "Th-" "I'm here," he smiles. Seeing your state, his cock twitches with more pre-cum seeping down his shaft. He kneels between your legs, pushing his finger inside you carefully. His usual impatience is nowhere now. He takes his time to get you ready for his cock. "You are so tight," he grunts, adding another finger. "I don't even know how you will take me, but we will find it out." His fingers massage the inside of your walls, finding every sweet spot to push you higher and closer to the edge. "I will make sure this pretty pussy will take all of me," he continues talking. "But first," he hums, still thrusting inside you as he leans down to take your nipple into his mouth. "Cum, Y/N, cum for me. Let me hear you. Let me see you." And with a twist of his fingers, you obey his command once again. You shake, cry, and moan. Your eyelids fall shut, your muscles go taut, and your walls milk his fingers for more. You grab onto anything to keep you afloat. It feels like your life depends on his hands holding you to reality. His deep voice is the only lead that can pull you out of the blackness that makes you blind for long seconds. Your whole body tingles with pleasure, but your hunger isn't satisfied. You want more. You need more.
"How-" you start to speak, but your throat is so dry, you begin to cough. "Here," he says, reaching out to his nightstand for a glass. "Drink this. It's wine." He even helps you sit up to take a few sips of the sweet liquid. "Thank you," you tell him, giving him back the glass and watching him drink too. And while he does that, you have a few calm seconds to let your eyes wander on his body. His hair is a bit messy because of you. His cheeks are tinted with pink, and the color goes down to his chest, too. The muscles flex and stretch in sync with his movements. His cock is hard with a flush, pink tip between his thick thighs. You don't even know when did he take off his trousers.
You are too busy staring at his balls to notice him putting the glass back in its original place. He has to cup your face with one of his hands to make you look up into his eyes.
Well, not your proudest moment, but you have no regrets. You are not willing to feel ashamed because of it, and you don't even have time for it. The view of the elven king looking down on you with his almost white hair framing his handsome face is too much to feel anything but hunger and desire.
"How do you want me?" You ask him instead. A moment of surprise washes over his face before a smug smirk pulls on his red, swollen lips. "On your knees," he replies. "Ass up, head on the pillow."
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tinfairies · 1 year
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Elrond and Thranduil with a hobbit reader, like maybe she's bilbo's sister in the events of the hobbit or Frodo's sister in lord of the rings and them having a huge size kink because like she's so small and naïve to the ways of the world she's never been outside of the shire, just...let them shelter (*cough* corrupt *cough*) her
Elrond
When the Dwarves arrived in Rivendell seeking information and supplies, the Lady hobbit caught his eye. Bilbo's sister was such a sweetheart at the table. Her manners are perfect and the way she looks at him has Elrond seeking to catch his breath.
During the dwarves short stay, he makes it a point to spend as much time with the Lady hobbit as possible. Walking with her through the gardens, showing her the vast library, watching her face light up in wonder as he showed her around.
Finding excuses to have her sit in his lap, or to pick her up. His large hands engulfing her body, he has to stop himself from groping her.
Elrond just wants to keep her all to himself. Telling her that she is free to stay behind. If she agrees he is over the moon although won't show it much. If she says no however, he says that his door is always open to her and that she should come and visit after her adventure.
Thranduil
When the dwarves were imprisoned, Bilbo's sister was taken with them.
Legolas and Tauriel didn't know what to do with her. She wasn't a dwarf and definitely not a human nor elf.
When she was presented to Thranduil he knew exactly what she was. A hobbit.
The king had only heard of them, and seen drawings. But he was sure of what she was.
He liked the way she looked up at him, big doe eyes full of fire. He sent everyone out of the throne room to question her.
Thranduil circled her like a hawk. Asking questions about why she was with filthy Dwarves. Noting that she was a long way from home.
He wanted to keep her as a pet, have her curled up in his chambers at all hours of the day, even sitting in his lap on the throne.
He'd offer her a deal, her freedom for the dwarves freedom. His lips curling into a devilish smile when she naively agrees
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