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#thranduil oropherion
milesasinmorales · 5 months
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Thinking about that headcanon that Thranduil is blind in one or both eyes bcs of the dragon fire (hobbit movies) so that’s why Legolas just says what he sees out loud all the time bcs he’s used to doing that for his dad
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will-ruadh · 3 months
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“At that Thorin shut his mouth and would not say another word.”
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tinfairies · 1 year
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Hey so we talked before about hair braiding being intimate to elves. Can we have headcanons of reader just coming up behind them and starts braiding it casually and Legolas and Thranduil reacting to it? I feel they’d be like “wow she’s so forward (〃 ̄ω ̄〃ゞ” 🤣
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Thranduil
Of course he knows that this human isn't aware of elvish culture and the significance of braiding.
That doesn't stop him from being a bit surprised, then smug about it.
He would use it as a way to subtly claim his human. Making sure the other elves see them braiding his hair.
He might tell them about what braiding means for elves, but that won't be until he has them firmly in his grasp.
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Legolas
Despite what his culture says about braiding, he loves having his hair played with.
He thinks it's cute that this human doesn't know, but is also glad for it. Legolas loves physical affection and he doesn't get much of it from his kind.
Will definitely show the braids off to other elves, boasting about his human's skill.
They will probably find out about what braids mean, but until then Legolas plans to soak up as much attention as he can.
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thelien-art · 2 months
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Everything Thranduil needs is a slutty David Bowie outfit and he´ll calm down
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electracution · 2 months
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Thranduil, 03.2024
I'm really dissatisfied with the way he looks. I don't think I captured his likeness at all. But I'm working on Gimli now and the beard is killing me (I chose a high contrast reference so the hair is impossible) and I wanted to post anything. So here he is.
It's a bit funny, really. Him and unfinished Gimli are sitting together on my desk. King of Mirkwood and his son in law. A family reunion;)
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7soulstars · 10 months
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My Incorrect Universe #96
*before courting Thranduil*
Me: *trips on the ground*
Thranduil, scoffing and in a mocking tone : haha, how clumsy, could you be any more foolish?
*later when no one is around*
Thranduil : *stomping the ground* who do you think you are?? WHO IN EVER LOVING VALAR DO YOU-
--Few years later--
Thorin: I can’t believe you talked to Thranduil without getting so much as a glare! Most people can’t even look in his general direction without some kind of threat.
Me: I mean, it would be a little weird if he did. We are engaged after all......
Thorin, who thought he had a chance: “....YOU’RE WHAT?!”
Legolas,a rogue Gimli tucked under his arm pit: YOU'RE WHAT ?!
Haldir and Lindir, from behind the trees: YOU ARE WHAT ??!
Elrond: YOU'RE WHAT ?!
Me: why are YOU shocked?? You watched him propose to me??
Elrond, recalling himself screaming as he witnessed Thranduil get on one knee that day: I'm still recovering from the trauma-
*Legolas still trying to process what I just announced*:
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Baby Leggie
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himegureisu · 1 month
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Time
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Summary: Your love language is quality time. However, your husband is the King of Mirkwood.
A/N: I was supposed to write a Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader. However, this idea popped up and went brr in my head and then my fingers. I needed to finish it before it went so here it goes my first for this pairing I hope you enjoy! (And good night for me because it’s 4AM also not proofread)
Pairing: Thranduil x Female Elf Reader
——————————— 🍃 ———————————
“What was it, meleth nín?” Thranduil asked, “I apologize our time is to be cut short again,”
It was the nth time someone interrupted your strolls to whisk him away for a matter of utmost significance and to be honest, you were tired of it.
Trying so desperately to take time between the day to see him. To get a moment of his time.
He was a King.
A title that holds responsibilities he could not neglect. You know that. However, you didn’t expect to be pushed aside.
“It’s nothing,” you fake a smile, “You should go they need you,”
But I need you too.
You didn’t try after that.
Your handmaiden noticed your melancholy days after the incident. It was like he didn’t notice you were gone.
Yes, you did eat together most of the time. However, you didn’t pop by his office during your free time. You didn’t leave snacks anymore for him to munch on when he forgets to eat. You didn’t propose to walk so you could both stretch your legs. You didn’t wait for him to go to bed.
Contrary to your belief, your husband did notice your absence.
His days were often tedious and tiring. Your short visits were always something he looked forward to. The bright spot to his days so when palace staff gossip came through his ears…
“The Queen seems pale. Is she ill?” a soft feminine voice asked in concern,
“Oh, why would she be ill?” a different voice, an ellon this time, “Maybe she’s expecting a child!”
“She could be ill because of the child.” the elleth remarks, as another joins in the conversation,
“The Queen is not expecting I would know.”your handmaiden divulged as much, No, she seems dejected.”
“The King has been busy…”
Her words echoed in his mind because it was true. His thoughts wandered to those moments your times were constantly interrupted and the day you last visited.
Oh.
“Where is the Queen?” he asks your handmaiden, who exited the study, a book on hand for you.
“At the gardens, My Lord,” she simply answered.
“That’s for her?” he gestured to the book, she nods meekly, “I’ll take it to her. Go tend to your other duties,”
Your handmaiden scurries off in fear and intimidation to go prepare your clothes for the evening. On the other hand, your husband quickly makes his way to the gardens where he couldn’t see you.
“By Valar,” he mumbles frustratedly, walking through the foliage, “Where are you?”
Your soft sniffles give you away.
Between two trees, there was a hammock tied on to their sturdy barks. On the hammock, beneath a thick blanket, you hug his pillow as your tears fell down your cheeks.
From outside your cocoon, the grass crackle as slow footsteps approach your hideout.
Your book finally.
“Did you find that book I asked for?”
“I did,”
A different voice answered. One you haven’t heard from in what seemed like days. His voice.
“Meleth nín,” he breathed out, “Please do not hide from me,”
“I’m hardly presentable,” you sniffed, wiping your tears away, as the hammock tilts a bit on one side, “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting of sorts?”
“No,” he frowns, sitting on the edge of the fabric, the book left on by his side, “I don’t care if you’re presentable or not. I’m not the kingdom,”
Slowly, you emerge from your shell to be greeted by his silver eyes, dull in color much like your own has been these past couple of weeks.
“Oh, meleth,”
There were dark shadows beneath your eyes. Your cheeks were stained with dry tears and nose flush from mucus buildup. His heart twisted beneath his chest at the sight of you.
What has he done?
“Oh, meleth nín,” he said, taking you in his arms for a warm embrace you missed, “I’m sorry. I am a fool,”
He hated being the cause of your tears.
“You were,” your voice cracked, as you tuck yourself beneath his chin savoring his presence, “I missed you so much,”
“I missed you too,” he kisses your forehead, and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry that I didn’t reach out, didn’t make the time, made you cry, made you feel like this…”
Your tears fall once again down your cheeks to his robes. He noticed. He noticed your absence after all.
“You are my starlight, my reason to go on,” he softly declared, “I promise I’ll try to do better,”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I needed” you quietly admit, “I thought I’d be bother you already do so much,”
“You are never a bother,” he adamantly says, glancing down to see you also looking at him, “You are always welcome to whisk me away from the duties of court. I’d rather you than them.”
“Their needs are much more important than mine,” you say.
“But your needs are the most important to me,” his words caused your heart to flutter in the most endearing ways. “You are the most important to me. You do not need to vie for my time or attention. You will always have it. Though, I may not notice it at times you should not hesitate to tell me.”
“If so, can we just stay like this?” you breathed out tiredly against his chest, your ear to his heart beating soundly beneath, “I just… need you,”
“We can,” he gently kisses your forehead, as your eyelids droop down, “It would be a pleasure,”
“Thranduil,” you softly whisper, as he places his forgotten pillow beneath your heads, “Gi melin,”
“Gi melin, meleth nín,” his fingers tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear as you settled on his chest, “Sleep. I will be here when you wake,”
It wasn’t long until you did.
Your breaths soft and even as Thranduil gently places the book on the ground so neither of you gets stabbed by its’ edges. He pulls you the closest he could, you unconsciously grasp tight.
Just the way you both liked it.
He lays there quietly observing the heavens, where scattered white clouds and birds of the realm adorned the blue skies, wondering how he was so lucky to have fallen for a second time to you.
He didn’t know what time it was and frankly, he didn’t care when his eyes slowly surrendered to the thrall of slumber joining you in blissful rest for the afternoon.
He would do better. He was going to do better. For you.
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itsonlydana · 28 days
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"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.
223 notes · View notes
multific · 8 months
Text
Whatever the Queen Wants
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Thranduil x Reader
Summary: On a boring day you have time to walk around, and recall different memories from your past.
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You loved taking walks in the woods and your gardens.
Seeing your kingdom bloom and glow just did something to you, it was special.
Spring was your favourite season. Seeing new life everywhere around you made you want to be a mother once again.
You could still recall when your son was born.
Legolas became the center of your world in a simple moment. As soon as the midwife-elf placed him in your arms, it was over.
Both for you and for your husband.
He was the cutest little elfling you have ever seen. Looked just like your husband but behaved just like you.
Even when he was little, you took him out to the gardens on walks, showing him the world. Every single time you looked at all the different rose bushes or hydrangeas all you could see was him as a little elf let's elfling playing amongst them, you just wished you had something to capture that moment with so you would be able to show it to your husband.
Now Legolas was a fully grown up elf, who was more interested in all the different kinds of fighting styles than nature, and also your husband did sometimes had time to spend with you right now he was too busy with his kingly duties, so you were left alone to walk the woods and your gardens.
And that is exactly what you were doing that day. You woke up and somehow amazingly sunny it was that day, so you made your way out to your favorite place in the garden. Your favorite place was where there were these huge hydrangea bushes, all different colors and shapes and sizes you loved every single one of them.
That part of the garden was a present from your husband to you as an anniversary gift. Since he knew how much you adored flowers, he added every single flower that she liked to the garden just to please you.
There were different statues as well in the garden, all of them beautiful.
You left out a long side on your way to your favorite bench. If only you could have the two men who meant so much to you there with you.
You felt so lonely at that moment, it might sound arrogant to some people that the queen was complaining but you really were rather sad that you had to spend such a nice day all alone although you did enjoy every second of it and you did make the best of it, but you still missed both of your boys.
Maybe that's why the idea of having another child was so inviting to you, then you would have finally someone who would need your attention all day long and they would give your attention all day long as well before they grow up. You missed that, you missed having someone who relied on you so much. Legolas it's already too old for him need you in such a way. Even If he did sometimes come over to you asking for your advice it wasn't the same.
When you tried to hint a new baby to your husband but he was too oblivious for your tries or he simply didn’t want to tell you that he did not want another child.
So, you didn’t bring the topic up after that. Although, it did hurt a little bit, you were happy with your life. Even if you felt lonely at times like this, you were happy.
“Naneth,” you heard someone say.
“Oh, Legolas. What are you doing here?” you asked as your son came over to you and sat down next to you.
“You looked lonely, Mother. So, I came to keep you company. Is Father still in a meeting?”
You offered him a kind smile, it warmed your heart that he thought about you.
“He is. But you don’t have to be here, I am not lonely, I have my flowers, you should practice.”
“Nonsense. No training or practice is more important than you, Naneth.”
“Thank you. How was your day?” he always loved to show or talk to you about his training. Ever since he was little he was a quick learner.
“Really good…” then he went on and on about his day. Telling you everything about swords, bows and more.
If you were honest you never truly understood everything he said or referred to but you still listened with a smile. Seeing him be so interested and happy about something warmed your heart.
You listened to everything he had to say. Every single word.
You saw so much of your husband in him. But you were there as well. You still couldn’t believe that you had the privilege to be the mother of this exceptional elf.
“Adar!” said Legolas out of nowhere which made you look the way he was looking. And you saw your husband, walking towards the two of you.
“Nin hén, Nin mel, what are you two doing out here in such an hour?” you failed to notice that the sun started to go down.
“Mother was lonely so I came over to give her some company.” replied Legolas as Thranduil joined you.
“It is getting late, it would be best if we all headed to rest.” you said and both of them agreed. Thranduil guided you towards your chambers after you said your goodbyes to your son.
“We have a wonderful child.” he said as you laid down in bed.
“Indeed, I cannot believe he is so big, I feel like I can still recall holding him as a young elfling.” you let out a long sigh at the happy memory as you felt your husband’s arms move you towards him. “I have been thinking, Nin mel.”
“About?”
“Another child.” Thranduil almost jumped up as you said that.
“A-another?”
“I have been feeling lonely with Legolas leaving us so frequently and with you being in meetings all day. I always wanted a daughter as well, you know that.”
“I do. I know it.”
“It was a silly idea.” you said after his long silence. “Forget it, Thranduil. I’ll be fine.”
“We can have another child. I’m only thinking of ways to ensure it would be a girl.” his confession nearly made you choke on air, then you smiled.
“No need. I would be happy with a boy as well.” you said as you pulled him closer and kissed him.
Thranduil knew, whatever the Queen of Mirkwood wanted, she got it.
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Translation:
Naneth – Mother
Adar – Father
Nin hén – My child
Nin mel - My love
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~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
1K notes · View notes
bagofshinyrocks · 2 months
Text
Green-Eyed Monster
Prompt: Established relationship; Reader is jealous of someone flirting with their spouse Thranduil, who is oblivious [inspo from @nightfall-writer]
Featuring: Thranduil Oropherion x GN!Spouse!Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: nothing besides my "Tauriel and Legolas are BFFs" propaganda
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You had no reason for envy. 
You were happily wed to the love of your life. Joined the royalty of Eryn Galen through your marriage to the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion. Doted upon by your husband, and cared for by your subjects. You wanted for nothing.
And yet… in had crept “the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on” (Othello III:3).
There was never any doubt in your mind that Thranduil was faithful to you. His love for you was as unwavering as water downhill. As was yours for him.
He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you, and all but melted into your embrace in the privacy of your bedchambers. The touch of your hand more calming than chamomile. The taste of your lips more intoxicating than wine. Your bare skin more alluring than a soft bed after a long day.
But as wise and regal as your husband was, he could be a bit thick in the head at times.
It had been a whole ordeal for the two of you to come together in the first place. A host of conspirators, led by Legolas and Tauriel. An idiotic dance as the two of you convinced yourselves that your feelings were unrequited. You were surprised that your now step-son had not smacked either of you upside the head at least once. His patience was unparalleled. In this instance at least.
So you couldn’t quite blame your husband for not recognizing others’ romantic interest in him.
There were nobles from other lands, elf, dwarrow, and man alike, who were visiting. After the Battle of the Five Armies and the retaking of Erebor by the line of Durin, he decided (i.e. he was persuaded) to expand trade relations, renew treaties, and welcome ambassadors. It seemed that almost every month brought someone new to his halls.
And you weren’t surprised that someone else would find your husband attractive. Not at all.
When you first met him, you could barely breathe. Ageless beauty. Sleek, shining blond hair. Piercing blue eyes. Luxurious clothing and jewelry with more detail than one could find in a day. Voice and speech that crept into your ears and made a home in your mind. You found the Sindar attractive the moment you saw him.
For an ambassador or noble to find Thranduil handsome meant their eyes functioned in some capacity. To find his voice and speech charming, their ears. That did not bother you. It was when their feelings changed like yours did, from aesthetic appreciation to romantic desire.
And he was oblivious to it all. Your speechlessness the day you met, your intimidation at meeting a king. The eagerness for those to meet with him, an eagerness to engage with Eren Galen and its wealth of materials, labor, and beauty.
Jealousy seemed so irrational an emotion. Thranduil was wholly yours; inattentive towards other romantic pursuits. Doted upon you. Craved your company and affection at all times
But it ate at you. Others and their lingering glances. Flirtatious words. Gentle brushes against him. And the ugliness of what you felt.
Your marriage was still recent, especially by elven standards. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. To act like a child who refuses to let others play with their toy. You would turn away and pretend you did not see it, or skip meetings you were not invited to.
Thranduil was concerned. Held you close at night. Reminded you how much he loved you and how brilliant you were. How lucky he was to have you in his life and as his spouse. He must have thought that all the social engagements were draining you. 
“I thank you for meeting with us, sir.” You stood from your seat at the head of the table, and everyone else leaped to their feet. It was still a little strange for so many people to hang on your every word. “I will bring your proposal to King Thranduil shortly.”
The man from Dale beamed and bowed low. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Most of the councilors filed out, but the nobleman scampered over to your side. Another low bow which you met with a nod.
“Long have I heard of the beauty of elves, Your Majesty…” A quirk in your eyebrow reminded him of his place, and he quickly caught himself. “The beauty of your halls, your craftsmanship and arts. It is an honor to see it all.” 
You gave him a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. You are too kind.”
He opened his mouth again for more flattery, but another voice interrupted. One from the doorway.
“Meleth nín?”
There stood your husband, dressed in robes blue as water in moonlight. A tall crown of silver branches. White stones imitated snow and ice amongst the delicate wire.
“Forgive me, sir,” he said, not even sparing the nobleman a glance, “but I must speak with my love now.”
The nobleman quickly excused himself, but hadn’t the chance to leave the room before Thranduil had your hands in his, and his lips on yours.
When he leaned in, you expected a chaste kiss against your cheek. Instead, one hand settled on the back of your neck, and the other placed your hand against his chest. Its opposite quickly mirrored and both of your hands held the fabric of his robe.
Your lips were shiny and your face warm by the time your husband pulled away from you. All the tension had melted from him, and he wasted no time in pressing his forehead against yours and letting his eyes flutter closed again. Once his breath came easy again, he gave you a chaste kiss on the nose.
“Forgive my forwardness, meleth nín,” he cooed in Sindarin, a gentle brush of his hand over your cheek.
“Nothing to forgive, husband.” A kiss to his nose. “How could I be upset at the notion that my husband, the most handsome of all who have lived, live now, and will ever life, desires me?”
A smile at your words, and another kiss on your forehead.
That evening, the two of you were entwined on the couch in your apartments. His head rested against your chest, against your heartbeat, and your fingers combed through his hair and rubbed his back.
A fire crackled in the hearth, and two half-drunk goblets of wine sat on the table at your elbow. A comfortable silence, broken after a good while by a single word.
“Beloved,” he asked quietly.
“Yes?”
“I have a confession. And need your advice.”
The hand formerly in his hair transferred to gently scratch the back of his neck and you briefly squeezed him close with the other arm. He adjusted so he could look up at your face a bit better.
“Of course, meleth nín. What is it?”
“When you were speaking to that man from Dale… I had a foolish thought. Jealousy. I’ve felt it a great deal over the past few weeks, thought I never acted upon it. Until today. I feel childish now, interrupting and publicly expressing physical affection in neither the right time nor the right place. I-”
You cut him off with a kiss to his lips. A startled noise from him, then he pulled himself further up the couch so you could kiss more passionately. He wasn’t entirely sure why you were so taken with the idea of him being so immature, but he was glad you weren’t disappointed.
A quick huff of breath as you pulled apart.
“I love you so much,” you panted, then breaking into giggles. His brows furrowed.
“What is so funny?”
You kissed his nose. “Because I have been feeling jealous the past few weeks. And I hadn’t a clue you were feeling similarly.”
“Why are you feeling jealous?”
“Because,” you flicked his chest, “you have an entourage of nobles, merchants, and ambassadors doting after you. And I was disappointed in myself for being so immature.”
“I do?”
A very unregal snort from you. “Meleth nín, for one so wise, you are so…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
More giggles from you. “Very well.”
He rested his head on your shoulder and his nose was tucked comfortably against your throat. The soothing warmth of his breath and the movement of his chest almost lulled you to sleep.
“I don’t think feeling jealousy is a bad thing,” you mused, fingers tracing the embroidery of his leisure dress. “It is a natural part of our behavior, to feel protective of things we love. And you weren’t rude or aggressive, for which I would have been unhappy. I’m glad you love me so much that somewhere in you,” a tap to the side of his head, as if to point the spot out, “a primal sliver encourages you to keep me all to yourself.”
A deep kiss from your husband. One hand behind your neck, cradling your head. The other crept between your back and the couch, fingers pressing into your flesh, pulling you into him as if any distance between you two still existed. You were smiling wide against his lips.
“How silly we both are,” he chuckled after leaning back for air.
Your fingers combed through his hair, finally settling to gently scratch the scalp around his ears.
“Indeed we are, my love.”
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Posted: 2024 March 7
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theelvenhaven · 8 months
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Married to Thranduil
Flirting with you while intoxicated
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A/N: Thank you @nerdysimpy for the Thranduil idea. Love those bestie privileges. It's my first Thranduil post and I am still getting a feel for his character so forgive me for not making this very long or if it's not wholly ic.
Warnings: NSFWish
****
❁ Thranduil has a really high tolerance for alcohol and rarely indulges himself beyond a glass or two of Dorwinion red.
❁ But there are times where has a bit too much to drink- whether that is in your shared chambers or at a festival.
❁ With the Dorwinion wine being so good and the talk that seems to keep going on and on it's no wonder one glass turns to two, three, four, five and more.
❁ When Thranduil flirts usually it is a bit sophisticated and formal even though you two are married, he likes to try to be poetic and above his station even to his spouse.
❁ He never fails though to make you blush in his complex flirty compliments about how you're his starlight, and how beautiful you are in several different poetic ways.
❁ But when Thranduil has filled his cups and has had a little too much to drink, he becomes a little more blunt and a little less poetic.
❁ At first they still will be suave and a little more on the chaste side of things;
❁ "My starlight, you look ever so ravishing tonight, you're glowing brighter than even the candle light."
❁ "That outfit suits you well, and shows you off perfectly, starlight. Your taste is impeccable."
❁ He will chastely, but no less seductively, offer little touches here or there.
❁ Like brushing your hair out of your face, tracing your jaw as he does so, holding your hand, a hand coming to rest on your knee chastely.
❁ But as he gets more intoxicated the touches become a little more intense and less chaste.
❁ The notes of seduction are definitely known as his hand wanders up higher on your leg, his face flushing a light pink and his lips twitching into a smirk as he eyes you.
❁ Though he is intoxicated, and would want the whole world to know you are his, he doesn't want anyone to overhear any of the flirting he does with you.
❁ So while he holds your thigh, with his thumb gently drawing circles, he leans over to whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
❁ Whispering to you all the things he wants to do to you, even if you are in public.
❁ "My starlight it would be positively divine to ravish you right here, I'm aching to feel you."
❁ "You look divine in your outfit, but by Iluvatar I know you look better out of it and laying on our bed bare for me to see."
❁ He'll spend his time teasing you physically, his hidden hand brushing against your most private places but never fully touching you.
❁ Thranduil likes to watch you squirm and see the different expressions, the sounds of your shaky breaths knowing it's all him having that affect on you.
❁ He is also stealing kisses to your lips, not afraid of who it is that might see his loving display of affection for you, emboldened to let propriety fall to the way side.
❁ Nor is he afraid to be steeling kisses on your neck as he brushes your hair away, or nipping at your ear when he leans in close to whisper into it.
❁ Now when the tipsy flirting starts it is a perfect to give into his whims and steal him away for the evening and back to your bed chamber to make love all night long.
❁ But if you continue to let him drink, Thranduil is mostly all bark with no bite as he gets too woozy to be able to do any of lascivious things he's been whispering to you.
❁ On those walks back to your chambers with his arm around your shoulder, holding him up as you two walk back to your bed chambers.
❁ Thranduil will need to be laid down, and e won't bother to undress for the evening but he will coax you into laying down with him at the very least.
❁ He will press soft but sloppy kisses to your face, and pull you in close with him, snuggling close to you.
❁ He loves and adores you and feels so safe and comfortable with you before finally the alcohol wins out and brings him to fall asleep with you tangled in his hold.
****
Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter
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master-muffinn · 1 month
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Lord of the rings X druid!reader headcanons
Legolas x reader, Thranduil x reader, Gandalf x reader (platonic), Merry/Pippin x reader (platonic), Elanor x reader.
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Legolas
🧚‍♀️ Legolas is very curious and excited! He wants to know EVERYTHING about you and what you can do!
🧚‍♀️ But he finds the fact that you can turn to different kinds of animals the most interesting, and asks you a lot of questions about every animal you can transform too.
“Y/n what is that for an odd creature?”
“It’s a seastar”
“A STAR!??” 🤩
🧚‍♀️ Asks you if he can touch you in your animal forms. He lights up with happiness when you say ‘yes’ and touches you with utmost care and curiosity.
🧚‍♀️ Loves carrying you around in your smaller forms. If you turn to a snake he’ll put you around his neck like a necklace, a bird on his head or any other animal that can be on his shoulders.
🧚‍♀️ When the fellowship was in the snowy mountains and while the others had to walk in the deep snow, you were a little mouse in Legolas warm pocket. Not needing to do anything and Legolas didn’t need to worry about your safety. Win-win.
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Thranduil
“I thought the druids died out for 4000 years ago, guess i was wrong”
🍷 Like Legolas he is very much interested but in a more calmer and quieter way. He also likes the animal shapes more. 
🍷 He likes when you turn to a little bird and sit on his shoulder whenever he goes to different places.
🍷 LOVES when he sits on his throne and you turn to a smaller animal and sit on his large hand and put your tiny paws on his fingers- the king has heart eyes. 😍 (yes you are his pet now lol) And he totally would feed you grapes too.
🍷 Other than that he also likes your plant and flower abilities. He has left the garden's beauty to you and it is shining more beautifully than it ever has since you came into his life- or perhaps it is just (amazing) you who has grown beautiful and colorful flowers in his heart❤.
🍷 And of course he will try out some of your abilities in the bedroom 😉
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Gandalf
🧙‍♂️ Sorry Frodo, Sorry Bilbo, y/n is his number one favorite friend now!
🧙‍♂️ He is very fascinated over your elemental abilities. Wind, water, fire, plants/trees? “What can you do?” 
🧙‍♂️ Gandalf would try (hard) to not sound too eager and excited when you show him. But he can’t help but smile and laugh when you make a phoenix appear out of the fire.
🧙‍♂️ Might show you his ‘magic’ if you ask nicely and you will inspire one another. 
🧙‍♂️ If you have any difficulties with your training and elemental controlling he will give you advice and guidance with what he knows.
🧙‍♂️ Gandalf wouldn't mind if you join him for a while on his journey. He greatly enjoys your company.
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Merry/Pippin
🤡 Oh no! OH NOOO! Gandalf will pray to god ... .PLEASE DON’T LET THE WORLD END!!
🤡 When they learn what you are, they will storm you with questions. They will drag you with them for every little prank and misery they are planning.
“Y/n, can you turn to bird and poop on someone's hea-” (pippin)
“No!”
“Can you poop in someones drin-”
“No!”
“Can you-”
“ENOUGH WITH THESE POOP REQUESTS!!!!”
🤡 If you meet on the ring quest, they will ask you to turn to a larger and fluffy animal, like a bear so they can sleep with (on) you on cold nights (like the bear in jungle book? Yes!) Boromir will get jealous because you stole his children. 😢
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Elanor Brandyfoot
🐌 The others don't trust you and don't want you around until you show them how quickly you can turn seeds to flowers.
🐌 Elanor will try to calm them down and talk to them so they don’t ‘use’ you for their ‘food greed’.
🐌 You two will have a contest of who is quickest to fill a bucket with berries, buuut of course Elanor wins. 
“Looks like ya powers weren't able to outmatch me!” 
🐌 She loves to see your abilities and is very happy that others like you too and have accepted you to the group, but she gets a little jealous when you get too much attention because she wants to be alone with you too! 
🐌 She loves the evenings when things have been calming down and laying under the stars with her head on your (larger) animal form. Petting you is very calming for her and she mostly falls asleep like that with you. 
Thank you for reading! I hope you like it! 💖
Post made by me, @master-muffinn
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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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thelien-art · 5 days
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Thranduil; King of Mirkwood
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This took some time but now it´s finished and I´m happy about how it turned out
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I really enjoyed making his design and playing around with Silvan fashion and him as a character. It also gave me an excuse to reread The Hobbit to try and get so much of him into it.
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LOTR and The Hobbit incorrect quotes
Legolas: you kissed my father?
(y/n): in my defense it was very dark and he's very hot
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