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#thranduil x reader
itsonlydana · 2 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.
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htchnr · 1 day
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♰ drink you dry ༻ THRANDUIL.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist.➻ buy me a coffee! ➻ 1K drabble event!
CW ➻ smut ⋆ piv ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ blood sucking ⋆ wound licking ⋆ MODERN AU! Vampire!Thranduil ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
SUMMARY ➻ edited my old Graves vampire fic to be a Thranduil fic to see how i like Vampire!Thran ... safe to say i will most likely write a full thing for him now .. WC ➻ 0,7K.
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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you lean against the windowsill, leant forward ever so slightly as you looked out at the dark sky — stars spattered around like a messy painting.
a full body shudder wracked through you when his hands smoothed over the swell of your hips, long and slender fingers dragging up the curve of your waist — then smoothing back down.
his breath is hot against your ear when he leans in to speak, a shivering - "well, hello again sweetheart," - coming from his lips.
you whimper in pleasure as he dips his head down, his long silvery blonde hair cascading over your shoulder, his nose dragging against the soft skin of your throat — breathing in deeply through his nose as he drowns himself in your scent.
"oh how i've missed your pleasurably sweet scent," he breathes, lips brushing against the skin, his hot breath trailing as his lips are slightly parted in pure pleasure.
your breath hitches, your hands moving to cover his that have found purchase on your hips, your smaller hands gripping around his as his lips drag across your throat so euphorically.
oh how you've missed him — missed his large hands, missed his strong yet lean body against yours, missed his sharp teeth scratching down your skin — threatening to sink into your flesh and drink you dry.
he grins against your throat, sharp teeth scraping around in such a pleasuring way — if it was anyone else you'd almost be embarrassed at how wet his teeth got you.
he grins — his teeth pressed against your throat. "you missed me too, huh honey?" he coos, voice low and almost mocking.
though, how could you ever hate him when the endearing names roll off his tongue like sticky sweet honey, just waiting for you to give in and have a taste?
you close your eyes, clenching them tight as you shiver in anticipation — his hands dragging their way up your hips, slowly gliding up your waist — how were you ever meant to resist him?
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you whimper, squirming against his hold as he pushes in — his teeth still dragging across your throat as he bottoms out.
moans fill the otherwise silent space of your attic, the erotic sounds spilling out the window and into the stars as he slowly pulls out — only to forcefully push in again.
"i've missed you so much, my dear," he moans — it almost sounded pathetic coming from between his sharp teeth. the chance of him missing you was slim, you knew he had plenty of places he went to drink and let himself go.
your breath catches in your throat as his pace quickens, your brows furrowing as you clenching around him, only getting even more aroused at the sounds he's making against you every time your walls tighten around him.
"are you gonna be a good girl for me?" he pants, his tongue licking a short stripe right over your pulse.
"you gonna let me taste you again? hm?" his sharp teeth threatening to break your soft skin if you move more than an inch.
you clenched around him, involuntarily showing him your answer. though, he knows you'll let him have you anyway.
"you love it, don't you honey?" he moans, savouring the sound of your whimpers as his teeth starting slowly sinking into your flesh — blood starting to slowly drip.
he drags his tongue across the small wounds, his pace having slowed to halt as he moans at the taste of your blood. he groans, leaning in to wrap his lips around the flesh.
you whimper and moan, your walls fluttering around him as you buck your hips against his. you would never admit how good it felt — how down right euphoric it feels as he wraps his lips around your punctured flesh and drinks your blood.
he sinks his teeth in a little deeper — his mind clouded with the taste of you as he seeks more. the obscene moans that are being muffled by your throat as he grinds into you.
you shut your eyes, the wave of euphoria crashing closer and closer the more he drinks. you were sure you could get off on his lips alone.
"oh shit-" you gasp, shaking against him as you orgasm hits you like a tsunami — blinding you with pleasure as you shake in his hold.
"oh just like that, you taste so good sweetheart-" he moans with your blood coating his teeth, bucking into you in a haze, chasing his own pleasure.
it doesn't take long for him to come, buried inside you with his lips wrapped around your wounds. he let's out a long, euphoric groan — painting your walls white.
he leans forward a little, holding you up as he catches his breath. and with that stupid, sharp and bloody grin whispers — "i'll come find you again my dear, you better stay put."
and though you're kind of curious about what would happen you you didn't stay put, you know you could never willingly walk away from him.
you let out a stuttered breath as he pulls out of you, his warm cum dripping down your thighs and onto the old wooden floor. and as if he disappeared with the low howl of the wind — he was gone as quick as he had arrived.
'what if i left?' — who are you even kidding? you'd always find your way back to him.
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corinthianism · 5 months
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corinthianism's fic recs
here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut
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last updated: march 26, 2024
MARVEL
loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)
thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor
peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) - webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)
steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)
marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)
wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)
SHERLOCK (BBC)
sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero
SUPERNATURAL
sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut
dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics
castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)
THE SANDMAN
the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics
dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare
CRIMINAL MINDS
aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)
THE BOYS
soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies
homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch
GAME OF THRONES
jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)
STAR WARS
obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right? (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)
din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika
DRACULA (BBC)
count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier
LOTR/THE HOBBIT
thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)
DOCTOR SLEEP
dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg
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gus-the-goldfish · 7 months
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Headcanon: riding them the first time
A/N; No one asked for this, but i, once again, fell into the lotr/hobbit hole. So there is that. Now I will probably disappear for another year before posting any stories. Enjoy!
Rating: 18+ minors avert your eyes
Warnings: smut!, a tiny bit of degradation
Characters involved: Kili, Fili, Thranduil
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Kili:
The first time you literally flipped him over to be on top, his eyebrows shot up so high on his forehead you were worried they would never return to normal
Boy was he surprised
He is usually a talker, loves to tease you in and outside of the bedroom but at that moment, he was speechless
For a few seconds he just stared at you, not knowing what the fuck he was supposed to do now since he was usually the one on top
You started out slow , just grinding against him which had him gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises
Honestly he wouldn’t be able to stop moaning because it felt so fucking good
And the way you look, fuck. Enjoying yourself, literally using him for your own pleasure
From that day on, he was the one almost begging you to ride him
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Fili:
Fili, like his brother, was surprised to have you on top of him but he recovered quickly and had a shit eating grin plastered on his face “Alright then...”
He would quiet literally lean back and enjoy the show, giving you some encouraging words along the way
“Doing so good, love. Keep going.”
“That’s it, make yourself cum.”
Would shamelessly grab, kiss, bite and lick any inch of skin he could find
Grabs your hips to keep you still once he noticed you’re close, just to hear you whimper and beg him to let you cum
“Not yet, love. You got to work for it.”
When he feels like you deserve to cum, he would just grab the back of your neck and pull you down to him before fucking up into you with a intensity that lets you see stars
Safe to say its his new favorite position
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Thranduil:
He felt insulted the first time you mentioned your desire to be on top for once
Thranduil is a king. A king has to be in control
He agreed to try it after lots of convincing (and to shut you up)
Once you finally settled on top of him, with his cock deep inside of you, he had the audacity to look bored. Bored!
Tried really hard to look unaffected when you started to move, but you did notice him licking his lips at the way your boobs bounced right in his face
He kept his hands at his sides, denying you the pleasure of his hands on your body even when you begged him to touch you, to guide you
Would definitely start mocking you when your legs gave out right before your orgasm
“What is it, meleth nin? You wanted to do this on your own, didn’t you?”
“Look at my stupid little girl, cant even ride her king properly.”
Finally had mercy on you when you started to cry from frustration and desperation
“No, no don’t cry now little star. I will show you how it’s done.”
Would fuck and overstimulate you for hours to remind you why he is the one on top
Secretly likes you on top anyway
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months
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Winter Gem
Thranduil x Female Elf Reader
Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1.8k
Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.
A/N: For @firelightinferno
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist
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“The first snows have arrived.”
“It has come early.”
Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”
You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.
“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.
“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”
His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”
You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.
“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.
“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.
Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.
Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.
In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.
“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”
You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.
It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.
Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.
While tracking, he lost something precious.
Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.
He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.
This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.
Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.
Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.
As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.
Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.
Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.
“Found you.”
The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.
The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.
Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.
Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.
Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.
The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.
You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.
You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.
And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.
As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.
You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.
A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.
There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.
“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.
“I found you, my star.”
There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.
You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.
Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.
“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.
Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.
“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.
“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.
You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”
Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”
The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”
Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”
“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.
“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.
Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.
He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”
“Thranduil—”
“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”
You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”
“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”
Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”
“Never.”
“Will you hold me?”
“For as long as you like.”
taglist:
@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom
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tinfairies · 1 year
Note
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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disasterofastory · 7 months
Text
Like a tree (Thranduil x Reader)
Like a tree Thranduil x Reader Warnings: drunk and horny Reader
Summary: You drank too much and your husband takes care of you.
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You have to fight with every fiber of your body to open your eyes, and when you do, the world is spinning, and you feel dizzy. You need a few seconds to adjust your sight to the dim lights. The first thing you notice is the soft line of Thranduil's jaw and, a moment later, his hair as it falls all over his broad shoulders. Your fingers curl around the collar of his robe, not that you are afraid he would drop you. His strong arms are secure and steady under your back and knee. Warmth radiates from his body, bundling you into his embrace. "Where are we going?" You hum against his chest. Your words are muffled and disoriented. "You, my dear, are going to sleep." "What?" You scoff, wanting to push yourself away from him, but he doesn't even budge. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Oh, I know you are fine," Thranduil laughs. The deep rumble of his chest goes straight to your chest. The deep sound warms your heart. "But I think you drank a bit too much," he continues. "It seems like I have to talk with the guards again to not challenge you anytime soon." "Did I win?" You ask him. "Yes." "Good."
"Hey," you pout, reaching out for your husband when he steps back from you after putting you down on the bed. Your dress is long forgotten on the ground while your nightgown covers your body. The fabric is soft and light, showing off your cleavage and thighs. "Where are you going?" "I'm just going to change my clothes," he laughs at the expression on your face. "I won't go anywhere, I promise." "Oh," you breathe out, a mischievous grin pulls up the corners of your lips. "I can help with that." "I'm sure you could," Thranduil laughs again. He loves the way you look at him even though your eyes are half-closed. Your gaze is heated and full of love as you watch him change his clothes. "I think you shouldn't even bother with clothes," you break the silence again. "And why is that, my wife?" He asks, tugging on the blankets so he can tuck you in. "It's still cold." "Uhm," you groan, turning on your side so you can face him when he lies down next to you. "I can warm you up." Your bare leg slips up on his thighs, brushing his already half-hard cock in the process. Thranduil's muscles tense as he keeps his groan deep in his chest. His large hand lands on your soft skin, stopping your grinding on his erection. "I think we should postpone it, love," he says in a low voice. Your hand is warm on him as your fingers draw small circles on his wide chest. His skin is soft and smooth under your touch. "Why would we do such a thing?" You ask, frowning. "Because I'm drunk? It doesn't matter. I would climb on you like a tree if I were sober too." His laugh comes from deep inside his chest and fills the room with a pleasant rumble. God, you really love his voice. "I love your laugh," you state, creeping closer. "But I love your moans better." "Sleep, Y/N," Thranduil says. His amusement is still clear in his voice. His long fingers curl around your wrist to stop you from slipping inside his pants. "But I'm not that drunk," you argue. "I know," he says, pulling you against his side to be closer to his body. "But I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle." You gasp. "I wouldn't." Thranduil doesn't answer for long minutes as a knowing smirk spreads across his face. When his eyes move up from his hand still on your thigh to your face, he can't help but chuckle again. Your lips are slightly open as you sleep. "Of course not, my love," he hums softly, adjusting you until your head is on his chest and his arms are around you. "We will talk about you climbing me like a tree tomorrow," he adds quietly. His warm breath ghost over your ear, and you hum in agreement.
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floatyflowers · 8 months
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Helaurrr I'm thinking of a young reader getting their period for the first time any character will do like sibling/parents yk 🥹
Dark Platonic! John Wick, Hannibal Lecter, and Thranduil x Reader
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Father! Hannibal Lecter
Hannibal almost had a stroke when he saw trails of blood on the floor, after waking up.
Thinking that someone might have broken into the house and killed you, his 10-year-old daughter, he quickly rushes to where the blood trails lead him to.
Only to find you in the kitchen, in front of the open fridge, eating your favourite snack as if there's no blood between your legs.
Realizing what is happening, he makes you have a bath, and change into new clothes after teaching you how to use a pad.
Hannibal made sure to explain what was going on in a simple way.
But, you only pout.
"Does it have to come every month? Why not every ten years?"
Father! John Wick
When your period arrived, you already knew what you were going to do.
But that doesn't mean John would not coddle you, and make sure you have everything you need.
Especially since his wife's death, he had to be the mother and father for you.
You are the last thing left of his wife, so he will do anything in his power to make sure you are always safe and happy.
He would kill for you, and also kill anyone who would try to steal you from him.
John would make sure to buy the most expensive painkillers and sanitary pads because he is against you using tampons.
Also, the painkillers might be the same ones he uses after treating his bleeding wounds.
Grandfather! Thranduil
Elf women get their period at a much older age then humans, and their period comes every three months.
Meanwhile, you are half-elven, so you got your period around the same age as human girl would.
So, the Mirkwood king got confused when he saw you, his cheerful granddaughter, having bad mood swings.
Directed at him.
Thranduil also got angry, when you were good with servants.
He felt like it should be the opposite, he should be the center of your attention.
So, he locked you up until your period is over.
Let's just say when Legolas got back from his mission, he got into a huge fight with his father.
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deadlymistletoe · 8 months
Text
An Execution
Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader
Genre: Angst/comfort
Description: When you’re forced to witness an execution performed by the man you love, Legolas shields you from the sight, but Thranduil still has to reassure you later.
Warnings: Beheading (not graphic), mentions of assault.
Word count: 1148
The man leered at you from where he knelt in the middle of the ring of elves.
You took a breath, averting your gaze to somewhere over his soon-to-be-detached head and failed to notice the worried glance from the elf beside you.
Legolas glanced between you, the human who had his father so smitten, and said father. Truth be told, he didn’t think you should be here. Yes, according to the customs you had to be here, seeing as you were the one the man had attacked, but he could also see the faint tremor in your stance, and he hated that you had to see his father in a light you’d never had to see before.
His father was happy, more than he had been in years, because of you, and Legolas was terrified that this would scare you off once and for all, leaving his father heartbroken once again.
When you’d gone to Dale with Thranduil, the man had taken one look at your close proximity to the king and the adoring gaze he looked at you with and seen his chance at revenge against the elves who’d ‘caused’ his sister's death.
It hadn’t been hard for him to corner you when you got separated from the other elves at the marketplace. You’d been drawn to the stall filled with flowers at the edge of the marketplace and he’d taken his chance, convincing you that he had some rare flowers the stall didn't offer in his wife’s garden. No need to mention that he didn’t have a wife.
After that you were just lucky that Thranduil had sent someone to find you, and the bruises that had quickly formed around your throat and your hysteric state were evidence enough for Bard to agree to hand over the man to the elves' justice system.
Those same bruises still stood out against your skin, your dress doing nothing to cover them up. You shivered, although the air was warm, thoughts racing through your head as the man’s sentencing crime was read out.
Were you about to be responsible for someone’s death? Yes, he was a horrible man, and yes, you’d never asked for his execution, but you hadn’t argued against it either. You’d even felt a sick sort of relief at the decision to end the man's life.
Your breathing picked up and you felt your hands begin to sweat as the gleaming sword was handed to Thranduil, your lover stepping towards the man, whose dark, leering eyes were still on you.
This was his own fault, you knew that, Thranduil had drilled it into your head that nothing was your fault for days afterwards. The law of the elves said that harm or assault towards one of their own was met with execution, and while it warmed your heart that the elves of Mirkwood thought of you as one of them, part of you still felt sick. Felt like you were to blame. You’d followed him, hadn’t you? Left those who were to keep you safe behind without a second thought?
The blade was lined up with the man's throat, the man’s eyes drilled into yours and you couldn’t look away.
The blade was pulled back. It swung forwards.
You let out a gasp as arms wrapped around your shoulders, spinning you around so your face was pressed into a green covered shoulder as the sound of metal swung through the air and a dull thud was heard.
Legolas met his father’s eyes over your head as you trembled against him, and saw the gratitude in his father’s eyes. 
Gratitude that you hadn’t had to see this side of him.
~
When Thranduil entered your shared chambers you were in the same place you had been since you had been escorted back hours before.
You were perched in the middle of the bed, knees pulled to your chest. You startled when he moved into your line of vision and he inwardly winced. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.
He paused at the end of the bed, thankful that he’d made sure no blood was left on his robe, before he sat down on the edge, holding out a hand to you.
He held his breath, watching as you eyed his hand, the same hand the sword had swung from, before taking it and moving to sit beside him at the end of the bed.
You were both silent for a moment before he spoke, quietly, as if afraid of startling you. “I’m sorry you had to be there for that.”
“It’s okay.” You murmured. “Legolas made sure I didn’t see it.”
“Yes,” He squeezed your hand. “I thanked him for that.” He hesitated before continuing. “He was worried you would want to leave if you saw me like that.”
“Like what?” You murmured. “Like a king doing his duty?”
Thranduil swallowed. “Like a monster.”
You snapped your head around to look at him. Did he honestly think..? 
“No,” You hurried to reassure him. “You're not a monster. You were just…”
“Just what?” His piercing eyes met yours and you were unable to look away. “Just ending somebody’s life without a single ounce of sympathy? Because I don’t regret ending that man’s life. I only regret doing it with you there.”
“I don’t expect you to.” You whispered, falling silent again.
Thranduil sighed, bringing your hand up to his mouth to place a lingering kiss on your knuckles. “That man deserved everything he got. It is not your fault that he chose you to take out his anger on, nor that he got caught.”
You swallowed. “He said… he said that he had a sister… that the elves killed her.”
“I know.” He hummed. “It is not the first time I have seen that man. His sister fell into the enchanted river when they were children sneaking out to explore. Legolas’ patrol found them and pulled her out but it was too late. She drowned and he has blamed us ever since.”
“Oh, that’s horrible.” You whispered, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy.
He looked at you sharply. “That does not excuse his actions towards you. There are elves in this kingdom who have lost family because of humans and yet they do not condemn you for being human, do they?”
You sighed. You knew he was right. You leaned against his side. “I know. I just don’t like feeling responsible for someone’s death.”
He turned to press a kiss to your forehead. “You're not. And I don’t care if it takes years, I will prove it to you in every way possible, until it doesn’t even cross your mind.”
“I love you.” You whispered, not knowing what to say. Never before had someone been this dedicated to your feelings.
“And I love you, you silly human.” He murmured back. “Now let me show you how much.” 
Taglist:
@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee
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tamurilofrivendell · 8 months
Text
Arranged | Thranduil x Reader
Read on AO3
Pairing: Thranduil x Female Reader
Summary: The Mirkwood courts having successfully pushed Thranduil into accepting a new queen through an arranged marriage. However, he cannot seem to help comparing them to his former wife. When tensions run high and reader calls the whole thing off, Thranduil realises the error of his ways.
Content etc: Thranduil being a little bit of an ass I guess. Angst. Fluff.
Prompt: number 32 & 39 on this list
requested by anonymous (I’m sorry this took literally forever and I’m sorry if it isn’t exactly what you wanted!)
word count: 4.6k
tags: @firelightinferno​​, @achromaticerebus​​, @coopsgirl​​, @birbixo0912​​, @desert-fern​​, @ancient-rime​​, @lady-of-imladris​​​, @weepingdreammarvel​​​, @asianbutnotjapanese​​​, @deadlymistletoe​​​
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“This is wrong.” Thranduil’s voice snapped you out of your tangled thoughts and you lifted your head with a confused frown, looking back at him.
"What is?" You asked, not even having had any clue as to what it was that he was working on over there on the sprawling couch of his large private library.
Thranduil looked up and met your gaze. "The guards you have picked." He gestured to the paper in his hands as if it should be obvious. "They are not of a high enough level to guard the Queen." 
“Oh.” You gave him a quizzical look, tilting your head. You weren’t entirely sure about levels and the like. Nobody had said anything yesterday. Nobody had even really told you much at all, in all honesty, you had been sort of left to fend for yourself. “I... didn’t know anything about that. I just had to watch them fight and pick, you said. They appeared good enough for me. I think they would do just fine.”
The Elvenking blinked at you for a moment, his thoughts more critical than he would have liked. If you had not been sure, why had you not asked? Deep down, he knew that you could not possibly have known to ask because he had not told you that you could, or should. He’d told you to pick your own guards and then left you in the training grounds to attend a council meeting. However, Thranduil had simply assumed you would have asked for help or clarification if you had needed it. And clearly you had if this list was anything to go by. As it was, you had not wanted to cause a fuss, or look foolish, or add more work to the king’s heavy load. The soldiers showing off their skills had seemed capable enough and that had been all you’d thought you needed to look for. Besides, how would you know anything about their levels? You still did not yet know everybody here.
Thranduil’s silence was uncomfortable but then he simply tsk'd and lowered his gaze again. He shrugged, almost to himself, but he did not sign off on the document. He simply scored something out before setting it to one side to go back to later. He would pick, he decided. If he let you choose low levelled guards, how would they protect you?
She would have chosen better, he thought, though it was there and gone again so quickly that he did not notice he’d thought it at all.
You eyed him for another long moment before you moved to leave the library, heading away down the corridor. He had been in a fairly strange mood all day and you supposed you should leave him to it. Not bad, exactly, just... distracted, perhaps.
Most likely he was still struggling a little with this entire situation and you couldn't really blame him for that because it was still so very strange for you too. To have wound up in an arranged marriage with the King of Mirkwood. You yourself were from Lothlórien, daughter of an important elf in the Lord and Lady's court.
While unexpected, you could see the positives in such an arrangement and, truthfully, you liked Thranduil. He had been kind to you, at least when you first met and agreed to this. However, now that you had actually moved here, it seemed a little like he had been taking offence to every single decision you made. He’d give you things to do and then seem unsatisfied with the way you had done them. It was frustrating but you could only assume he was stressed and that he would soon relax.
You went to sleep that night hopeful that tomorrow he would be in a better mood.
You found him in his study the following afternoon and felt relief when he looked up and smiled at you. "I hope you slept well. Are you prepared for the feast tonight?" He asked, holding his hand out to bid you closer.
"Mostly. I just have to decide what to wear." You told him, moving into the room and seating yourself beside him. “It is still between two dresses.”
He sat there looking at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite decipher and it was almost as if he was studying something in your very soul. “Oh? You are not... set by now?” It seemed far too late to not have the entire outfit prepared.
You shrugged, always having been a bit more carefree and lazy in your decision making. You were a bit of a procrastinator and did not altogether mind if you left things to the last minute. Sometimes this was simply because you just... forgot. A far cry from the King beside you, of course. Also unbeknownst to you, a far cry from the Queen who had come before.
Thranduil raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. His displeasure, however, radiated from him in waves in the silence that followed as he looked back down at the paperwork on the desk before him.
"Thranduil?"
"What?" He did not look up.
“Something troubles you.”
He responded with a non-committal grunt and you frowned at him, watching as he pretended to read whatever was on the desk but you could tell his mind was now elsewhere. You sighed and stood to leave the room. 
As you turned, Thranduil’s hand suddenly reached out and grasped your own. You turned to find him looking at you, a soft smile on his lips once more. “You will look beautiful whatever you wear.”
Returning his smile, you ducked your head to hide the blush you could feel about to spread over your cheeks, and quickly took your leave.
Thranduil watched you go and then leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He liked you, he always had, but you were not quite what he had expected when he had finally relented to the pushing of his court to take a new Queen.
He had obviously agreed you would be a good choice. Your station in Lothlórien, your family tree, put you in a very good position to knowing how things worked... yet not entirely, it seemed. Something was a little... off now that you were actually here in Mirkwood with him.
Oh, you were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. You made him laugh. He enjoyed your company. There was simply something niggling at him in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t quite figure out.
The feast came quickly, too quickly for you as the time just flew past. You had gotten caught up doing something completely unrelated and frowned when a maid rushed in to find you. Her relief was palpable but you didn’t understand it until you realised the time and she had ushered you back to your room to get ready.
Thranduil was irritated. There had been a delay - nobody had been able to find you - and you were not ready for the feast. You were not here, and it took so long that he had to walk into the room alone and act as though nothing were amiss. He had promptly sat down and thrown back a rather large gulp of strong wine, irritated by the hold up.
When you entered the room - finally - you were a vision. He took in your hair, the ornamentation in it and around your neck, and the royal blue dress with pleased eyes that did much to allay his frustration.
Then, you went and tripped over the hem of the damned thing because you had not bothered to see that it had been properly fitted.
Luckily, you were close enough to the table at this point for him to grab you by the arm and keep you upright, but his irritation only grew at the scene that your little stumble had caused. The attention you caught was not the type he wished for, nor were the titters of laughter around the room.
She would never have left the fit of the dress to chance, nor would she have embarrassed him as such.
This time, Thranduil did catch the thought, but he quickly dismissed it as a simple stray musing that did not mean anything.
“Are you alright?” He asked, a little tersely, as he refilled his glass of wine.
You nodded, hardly noticing his tone yet as you willed the embarrassed flush in your cheeks to go away. You felt like the entire room had seen that and you cursed yourself for not even thinking that the dress might need proper attention. It just had not occurred to you.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He grunted and you finally looked up at him and noticed the frustration he was trying to bury shining in his eyes. You frowned, feeling even worse. He could not be... angry at you? Could he?
After picking at the food on your plate and watching one dance (you dare not join in with your dress!), you rose and made your way from the table out of the room without a word. You were not in the mood now. Reaching up, you tore the circlet from your head as you walked down the hallway as quickly as you could.
“Where are you going?” Thranduil’s voice came from the door you had just exited and you realised that he had followed you out.
Turning, you eyed him cautiously for a moment, trying to ascertain his mood, but once more he was quite the mask. “I am tired, Thranduil. I am going to bed.”
He nodded, moving closer. His gaze dropped to the circlet in your hands. “You could not have waited until you were behind a closed door?”
“What does it matter?” You asked, shrugging at him.
Thranduil didn’t respond but his brow creased just the slightest bit. Did it matter? He began to walk down the hallway and you turned to walk with him since it seemed that he was heading in the same direction you were anyway. 
“Are you upset?” You ventured after a while, watching him come to a halt as your question reached his ears.
Thranduil blinked. Was he upset? He supposed that he was feeling frustrated. Annoyed. Angry, perhaps. Why? He turned his head to look at you, a soft frown of confusion on his face as he shrugged. “I suppose I am. A little.”
“What’s the matter?”
He didn’t answer right away because, truthfully, Thranduil could not fully put into words what his problem was. What had gotten him so riled up over something that, logically, he told himself did not truly matter. Thranduil shook his head. “I am not rightly sure.” He offered his arm then. “Come, I will escort you to your room.”
But you would not be shut down quite so easily, and you shook your head. “You must know what is wrong.” You insisted. “How can I help you if you do not tell me?”
Thranduil frowned at you, his frustration growing once more. “I do not need your help.” He stated firmly, moving his arm closer so you would take it, but you still did not take it.
“Well, you need something. You-”
“Stop. Please.” He snapped lightly, dropping his arm since it had become clear that you were not going to take it. He turned around and took a step away, not wishing to engage in this right now.
“Thranduil!” Was he truly going to just turn away and leave? In the middle of a conversation? You could not quite believe it. “Just tell me what is wrong! Tell me!”
“She would not behave thus!” He thundered as he spun back to face you, and then immediately fell silent. Horror seemed to fill him as he realised what he had just said.
You frowned softly back at him, shaking your head. “Who-” Your mouth snapped shut as you stared back at him, suddenly understanding with a sick sort of certainty.
She. Her. His deceased wife.
She would not behave in this manner. She would not behave how you were behaving. She would do things ‘the right’ way. She would do better.
You could not hide the hurt that bled across your face as the two of you stared back at each other in the long, deathly silence that followed. Thranduil seemed to be frozen, utterly stricken, but you did not see it past your own dismay. Then, you were gone. Turning and fleeing from him, away down the corridor towards your own rooms.
Thranduil did not see you for two days. 
He tried to seek you out that same night but he had not been able to find you and, so, retired to his chamber to wait until you were ready to talk. However, it seemed that you were not willing to talk at all as, two days later, he received word that you had been seen sneaking into the stables with a bag full of your things.
Had it not been for you carrying your own belongings, Thranduil might have dismissed it and told them to simply follow you from a safe distance to keep you safe. As it was, he was immediately up from his chair and out of the door before the guard who reported to him could blink.
He rushed to the stables, finding you still trying to attach a bag to your horse, clearly frustrated that you could not get it secure. The animal, too, seemed unamused with your attention - blowing air through its nostrils and scuffing its feet.
“Going somewhere?” He asked quietly from the doorway, causing you to jump because you had not even heard him arrive, too focused on your irritation.
You stared at him for a second and found that looking at him hurt. You did not respond, you just turned your attention back to the horse and continued fiddling with the bag but nothing would attach the damn thing to the animal so you eventually huffed in exasperation and let it drop to the floor of the stall.
A silence followed.
You could feel Thranduil’s eyes on you but you did not look up at him.
“I never meant to hurt you” Thranduil said softly after another moment and you could hear the regret in his voice but you still didn’t look up at him.
Instead, you shrugged. “But you did.”
“Yes.” He agreed quietly, sighing. “I did.”
Of course, you did not resent him thinking of his wife. How could you ever? She had been a good Queen and an even better wife from all that you had heard of her. You had never met her, not even on a trip she’d taken with the King long ago to Lothlórien. But you had heard a lot about her and she sounded amazing. She was the love of his life, the mother of his only son, and you truly had never expected to replace her but to have him compare you in such a way... it had hurt, you could not deny that.
You were so different, you understood that, but... you were two completely different people and it did not feel fair for Thranduil to hold you to this standard that you had not even realised you had to meet. Yes, you were to be a queen and yes, you had a lot still to learn especially about Mirkwood and its own politics... but you were trying. You really were! All you needed was his help, not criticism. How could he not see that?
“Please just talk to me.” He said, his voice full of obvious unhappiness. His eyes dropped to the bag on the ground. “Where are you going?”
You held in a sharp comeback about why you should be expected to talk to him when he did not wish to do the same two nights ago. At his question, your gaze turned to the bag and you sighed, shaking your head. You bent down to pick it back up and began once more attempting to fasten it securely to the horse. “Home.” You said.
Thranduil blinked. “This is home.”
You frowned and your head snapped up to look at him. “This is your home... and clearly I am not welcome in it.” You hated how your voice shook just a little. You wanted to sound brave and firm, not like a hurt little girl. “I am returning to Lothlórien. You can call off all the arrangements.”
Thranduil stared at you then, watching while you struggled with the bag, as the reality hit him. You were going home, you were... calling off the wedding?
His arm shot out and he took hold of the bag, wrenching it gently but firmly from your grip. You gave a sigh and lifted your eyes to his face. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? You shook your head at him, throwing your hands up in a defeated manner.
“Do not leave.” He said, his voice quieter than he would have liked. He was certain it shook a little... but you did not notice.
“Why?” Was all you could ask, scoffing a little as you shook your head again. “Why should I stay here, Thranduil? I did not come here because I have no other options, I came here because I... I like you and I trust you and...” You trailed off, lowering your gaze for a moment, one of your shoes (which were absolutely not suitable for riding a horse in the first place) kicking at the straw covered ground. “I will not... settle for a life where I am never good enough, where I am always second best. A life in the shadow of a memory. A beautiful memory, do not misunderstand, and one I would never want you to forget... but I am not her, Thranduil! I am not her and I never will be and I am sorry but... I cannot stay here, not like this.”
Another silence filled the stable. 
You looked away, at the horse, running your fingers through its mane. The animal was no longer in a mood now that you had stopped messing with the bag. You watched as it lazily chewed on some hay. Thranduil still had your bag in his hands, his fingers anxiously fiddling with the strap, his eyes on his hands. He felt ashamed and for a long moment he could not speak.
“You were never second place to me.” He whispered eventually, his eyes filling up with tears as he realised just what he had done. What he had made you feel. What he had made you think. “Never. You are not. I...” He faltered, grasping for the right words but he could not find them. “I know... what I said, what I have done, it was wrong. I cannot excuse myself, I do not even know why I...” He paused, frowning. 
You didn’t look up, though you could see him in your peripheral vision. He seemed to be struggling. He was not always good with words when it was not about politics or battle.
“I did not realise I was doing it at first,” he continued after gathering his thoughts once more. “There is no excuse and I do not say this to make one. I simply... she is the only queen to have ever graced my rule. I was thrust onto the throne so quickly... and I was grieving and she had to... truthfully, she had no choice but to take control of many things until I was more... present.” More in the moment after watching his father die, after that dreadful day, after suddenly becoming a king. “My mother died long before I even began to pay real, proper attention to anything... royal. I... my wife was the only queen I have ever known here, I remember how she did everything, I grew used to it. I forgot that you... do not know and I did not help you properly when I know that I should have. So I compared you to her and it was not fair of me. You did nothing wrong. I am sorry. So, so sorry.” He did not really expect forgiveness, he did not feel that he deserved it, he did not feel that he should receive it. To have hurt you... it pained him. “I love you.”
You turned your head from the horse to Thranduil’s face, the shock evident as you stared back at him for a few very long minutes. Had you heard that correctly? Did he... did he say...? 
Over this time, you had developed your own feelings towards the king. He was not perfect, though to outsiders he may look it, but that was probably part of why you’d fallen for him in the first place. You had not been able to help yourself. 
In the beginning, after he had approached you and your father with the idea from his council of an arranged marriage, it was not something either of you had rushed into. He had spent some time getting to know you better, for he did not wish to wed somebody he did not at least get along with. He’d been clear on that with his councillors and advisors. He’d written you letters after he returned to Mirkwood, he arranged visits for you to come and spend time with him. He showed up in Lórien once with no other reason than to offer you a bouquet of wildflowers he had picked himself, then he took you on a walk through the forest and the two of you just... talked. After all of that, it had been so easy. To say yes. To agree. Though you had known, you had known, that he would never love you. He cared for you enough, you knew that, but as a friend. He would never love you as he loved her. At least that’s what you had presumed.
“You...?” Was all you could say, still staring at him in absolute shock.
Thranduil nodded, the tears in his eyes that he’d managed to keep at bay finally beginning to spill down his cheeks as he blinked. He glanced down, embarrassed, lifting his thumb to his face and swiping away a tear. “Yes.” He whispered. “I... I should have said it before, I should have... shown it better. I am so sorry... but please.” He lifted his head again, his eyes wide as he looked at you quite desperately. “Stay. Please... do not leave me.”
You were staring at him, frozen for what felt like a long time, and Thranduil began to lose hope. You would leave and he would never see you again all because of his own stupidity. He knew you did not love him that way, that you had agreed to this as his friend, but he needed you to stay here, he could not bear to lose you.
When your voice finally came, it was but a whisper, and there were now tears in your own eyes to match Thranduil’s. “...I love you too.”
Now it was Thranduil’s turn to stare at you. He looked like he could not comprehend what had just come out of your mouth. He looked like he did not dare believe it. You stepped towards him, your hand dropping from the horse as you reached for the bag in his hands. He let you take it and you swung it up onto your shoulder out of the way, taking one of his hands in yours. You were still hurt but you could not believe this had happened... and maybe this was just something you both had needed to go through, to be able to get past it. Something his mind had needed to work through.
“I love you.” You said again, a little louder. You felt his hand squeeze yours and you lifted your free one to his face, wiping away his tears. He looked like he dared not even hope that what you had just said was true. 
“You do?” He asked then, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you while you wiped his tears away. His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest as he looked back at you. He was not fully sure he had even entirely admitted to himself that he loved you until right now. He’d felt it, he’d been aware of how fond he was growing of you despite those other thoughts, but he hadn’t fully come to terms with his feelings - he had not felt such love in a thousand years.
You nodded, your anger fading away, leaving both your hurt and your love behind. “Yes... I do.” You confirmed, sighing as you took his other hand. You heard his breath catch in his throat and you gave him a sad little smile. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t.” Thranduil said immediately, shaking his head firmly as he cut you off. “Do not. You have nothing to apologise for, you did absolutely nothing wrong. I am the one who was in the wrong. You will make a good queen. I should have told you this... I should not have gotten upset over such trivial things. Dresses...” He scoffed at himself. “None of that matters.” He said, glancing down shamefully. “I do not want you to think that I... that I do not appreciate you for who you are or that I wish you to be somebody else... because I do not.” He shook his head. “I love who you are, I love everything about you. I am so sorry.”
You could practically feel your heart soaring to the heavens. You simply could not believe that Thranduil felt this way about you and, despite your hurt over his words, you were quite overjoyed. You finally smiled and Thranduil took a steadying breath before he moved. He leaned towards you, slowly so you could turn or pull away if you did not wish it, but you stayed perfectly still and waited for him to kiss you.
When he finally did, it was like electricity. It was like something you had been missing your whole life suddenly clicked into place and you removed your hands from his to loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer. His own tentatively moved to hold you gently by the waist. When he broke the kiss and you opened your eyes again, you could tell by his expression that he truly felt the same, that he was floored by all of this, and you could see how deeply he regretted hurting you, making you feel inferior, second best.
“You will stay?” He asked then, still sounding a little uncertain, despite the fact you had kissed him and admitted you felt the same way. He was worried he might have ruined everything before he even got the chance.
You gazed up at him and you nodded. “Yes... I will stay. Of course I will.” 
There was still a sadness in your eyes that broke Thranduil’s heart to know that he was the one who put it there and he vowed to do everything in his power to make up for what he had done.
“I will never make you feel that way again.” Thranduil told you, his voice extremely firm, his gaze sharp but loving. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek. “I promise.”
You smiled and he kissed you once more before he took your hand, leading you from the stables and back into the palace, back to the future with you that he was more grateful than he could ever express to have not forever ruined.
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Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.
They’re almost amazed how much their sweet words and light touches affect you. They begin to crave your flushed cheeks, the way your breath speeds up and the smell of your arousal. At first they were territorial and wanted you for themselves but now they know it’s better to work together.
At first they didn’t want to have sex with you, not wanting to spoil the seemingly innocent fun, but when Elrond fingers you and tells of how easy it is to make you cum, they all want to learn more.
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Thranduil loves how submissive and good you are for him. You do whatever he orders and you look so pretty kneeling between his legs.
Glorfindel is amazed at how much your human body can take and how tight you feel around him. At first he worried he’d hurt you, but he hates the look and sound of disappointment when he holds back from you.
Elrond wants to make you cum again and again and again. He doesn’t care for his own pleasure, he just craves the way you cry out and beg him once you become too simulated.
Haldir loves to toy with you. Although he craves the way your pleasure-filled voice sounds moaning his name, it’s the foreplay and the way he can tease you that he loves the most. Sneaking up on you to hear your surprised sounds and then the way your breath catches at his surprising touches.
Legolas is a lot more playful then his fellow elves and loves the sweet noises you make. He loves to bounce you in his lap and listen to your sweet moans and giggles. He will give you whatever you want because he craves your sweet smile and look of admiration. Loves to feel your soft skin and stare at your pleasure-filled face.
Lindir plays you like a fine instrument, spending hours learning how to make you create certain sounds for him. He uses his fingers, mouth and cock so he can hear all of your sweet sounds. He’s not above begging you to be louder or to sing out for him.
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xacatalepsyx · 2 months
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Show me
*The Hobbit
•Thranduil x Reader
~After overhearing him downplay your significance in your life, you attempt to show Thranduil just how far he’s willing to go to keep you
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This story was written in answer to an anonymous request for a sub Thranduil x Reader! Hope you enjoy 😊🦌 xx
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“(Y/N)!” You knew he was mere feet behind you at this point, but you didn’t care. You were past it in fact.
“(Y/N), I didn’t realise you were there-“ he reaches out and takes hold of your arm in a bid to get you to face him, though just as he does so, you break free from his grasp and round on him of your own accord.
He stops suddenly in response to your own unexpected action, before taking a step back, his eyes sparking with something you can’t quite read. He opens his mouth, but before he can utter a syllable you beat him to it.
“Is that your way of apologising?” You scoffed, brows rising at his audacity.
You knew that elves were complicated beings, but the constant unpredictability in your interactions was really beginning to infuriate you.
This man had been on his high stag for far too long, you remember imagining all the ways you could rip him off it the first time you’d met. The thoughts had simmered down over time, only rising on occasion; but all at once they appeared to come back in full force.
All the ways you could but couldn’t.
You’d thought after nearly three years of bicker and banter, of getting to know each other little by little after each prickly interaction that he’d come to see you with at least a shred of respect.
You weren’t expecting your relationship to bloom into a bed of roses, though you thought not for the first time, that it was a rather fitting comparison for the eleven king before you.
Pretty to admire, but still sharp enough to draw blood if not careful. And you’d clearly gotten too comfortable.
“I thought we’d come see past something as trivial as our species.”
His own brow dips at your words, “we have -“
“Do, not, insult, me, Thranduil.” You don’t doubt he expected a more explosive reaction, though you weren’t in the mood to give him the satisfaction.
You knew your cold venomous tone would hit him harder than any show of anger. His words had pushed you past that.
You knew they only hurt so much because you’d allowed yourself to open up enough with him to let it affect you so. But the feeling was mutual, or so you’d thought.
He wasn’t as defensive or confrontational as he used to be, his gaze towards you had softened significantly, he’d taken to seeking out your company more often than not… he’d even shown you his scars after a drunken rage one night.
You’d found him drunk in the courtyard and he’d opened up to you about his past despite your efforts to stop him, and you’d hesitantly matched that display of trust by telling him about your own life.
Yous had forged a bond, despite your differences, and found many unexpected similarities in the process.
“I thought… I thought we were past the point of you looking down on me.” Even the beginning of something more, despite you being human, he’d come to see past that. Hadn’t he?
“I… I didn’t think,” you cut him off once more.
“No, you didn’t.”
His words circle your mind once more; shes just a human.
The cold detatched tone he’d so eloquently wielded had pierced you deep. You weren’t just a human. You were a warrior, a woman capable of more than he could even begin to imagine.
You’d studied with wizards, crafted with dwarves, fought with elves, conquered trolls and goblins alike.
Many a man had tried to tame you, many a beast sought your throat; but none had succeeded.
You’d single-handedly built alliances and destroyed the ego of many tyrannical men from all walks of life.
Your value and accomplishments had not only brought you to Mirkwood, but had in fact also been the foundation from where your interactions had stemmed. Where respect had grown.
You had come on a political mission with Elrond, and had stayed to aid in the cleansing of Mirkwood; a proposition that Thranduil had personally put forward.
It would seem you’d become too comfortable.
Too tame.
“I did not mean for it to come across how it did, it was not my intention to insult you. Please believe that.” His tone held a softness, one he often used away from prying eyes and ears.
Though you knew that many suspected that there was something between the pair of you, he wasn’t as subtle as he liked to think he was. You’d often heard the elves within his court mumbling about you; Thranduil’s human.
“Old habits die hard, I assume?” You offered, your lips quirking at one corner in a bid to lay a false sense of security.
He seemed to measure your words, before bowing his head slightly in acceptance. His hands rose up to settle on your biceps, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“If you will allow it, I would make it up to you, show you my regret.” You could see a glimmer of relief in his eyes, and the observation only added fuel to the fire burning in your veins.
“And how would you do that?” It wasn’t often the eleven king apologised for anything, rarer still that he would admit his wrong and offer something in turn.
“Name it, name it and it shall be yours.” One of his hands dropped back to his side, whilst the other, glided down the length of your arm to curl around your own limp hand.
“Anything.” Oh the possibilities he offered with one word.
You squeezed his digits with a smile, knowing exactly what you wanted.
“I want you to show me.”
“Show you what?” His eyes glimmered with curiosity, his head tilts ever so slightly to the side as you tilt your own head back to look him in the eye.
“You respect me?” His eyes widen ever so slightly at your question.
“Of course.” His reply was quick, his tone steadfast in its delivery.
“You would have me stay by your side?” You knew your questions were more than a little self serving, but you knew what you wanted, and once you had your mind set on something…
Well, your stubbornness wouldn’t let it go so easily.
“I doubt there’s much I wouldn’t do for the honour,” his eyes narrowed at his admission, seeming to take yous both aback by his honesty, “I know I don’t often say it. But I speak the truth.
You were quiet for a moment.
A part of you felt bad for where you were taking this, but the other part, the part that had gotten you to where you are in life urged you forward.
“If you truly want my forgiveness, then show me how far you’re willing to go to obtain it.”
“What would you have me do?” The hopeful glimmer in his eye almost stopped you. Almost.
“Kneel.”
You heard him exhale, a small sharp sound that told you he most certainly did not expect those words.
His brows furrow as he searches your face for something, humour perhaps, though you were far from joking. His body language, and his hesitation spoke volumes.
“If you aren’t willing, then you have my word, that this is where I draw the line.”
His gaze flicks down the embankment were a platoon of his men await his commands. He knew as well as you did that the pair of you were in plain sight should anyone look up.
You both knew what it would mean for him to follow through with your ultimatum. What it would mean for him, and for you.
For once, the mighty Thranduil seemed speechless, and you took great pride in that.
“I won’t repeat myself Thranduil, if you want my forgiveness, if you want to earn back my respect, if you truly want me by your side then you will do as I ask.”
He had belittled you in front of your allies, and what’s worse behind your back. Or so he had thought.
He seemed to be weighing out the pros and cons, and quite frankly, that notion only infuriated you more.
You allowed a humourless breath to escape you, before pulling your hand from his and turning your back on him. You hadn’t even taken a step before he finally reacted.
“Wait.”
You glance over your shoulder, brow quirked at his tone, something he seems to pick up on.
He raises a hand in a placating motion, no doubt battling his pride.
Your body turns, eager to see what he would do. You could hear the resignation in his tone and was curious to see where he’d go with this.
His eyes fluttered closed as he released a breath, just as your own caught in your throat at the sight of him lowering his impressive height.
Inch by inch he dropped until he rested on his knees before you.
Satisfaction warmed your belly at the sight of him, you squashed the guilty part of you, silenced the voice urging you to take back your words.
Before you was none other than the eleven king, kneeling before a mere human, like a man at prayer.
“Look at me.” He obeys, his captivating silver gaze catching your own (E/C) orbs, each burning with something the other can’t quite read.
“What do you want?” A look of confusion briefly crossed his face, before his head falls back to better look at you.
“What do you want from me, Thranduil?”
Were you taking this too far? Perhaps, but you weren’t going to stop, not now.
He swallowed thickly, eyes never leaving your own. His arms lay by his side as you took a step towards him, wanting a closer look at his submission.
“What could you want from a mere human?” Cruel and cunning, weren’t words often used to describe you. You didn’t enjoy acting as such, not normally, but you wanted to remind him that you had thorns too.
“Everything.” His dazed response gave you pause for a moment.
You hummed at his words, hand reaching out to tilt his chin back further. You kept your eyes locked with him as you done so.
Your gaze keen and sharp as you observed his reaction; your confidence grew by the second.
Your fingers graze the length down his neck before stopping to linger over his jugular, lightly tracing your fingertips over his pale skin.
A shuddered breath escaped him as he watched you.
His eyes glinted with something, something you couldn’t read but instinctively knew. It had anticipation building in your belly, and you suspected he felt similarly.
“You’ll need to earn that, in time, perhaps.”
He swallowed thickly, you could feel the usually steady pulse quicken beneath your fingers, and the fact he held the position was not lost on you.
You leaned down towards him, your (H/C) locks falling round the pair of you like a curtain as you slowly closed the distance between your faces.
His eyes widened a fraction, his lips parting in anticipation for your close proximity. You craved it also, but this moment, it went deeper than physical bonds of any sort.
So you stopped, with just a whisper of space between your lips, “would you like that, Thranduil?”
You lips barely brushed against his own, though the motion of him dazedly nodding in response had his upper lip brushing against yours.
You suppressed your own shiver at the contact, but he wasn’t so quick to hide his own reaction. He arched towards you, pupils blown and breath caught.
“Your words, my king.”
“Yes.” His breathless tone was like music to your ears, and you smiled at him in response.
“Good.”
And with that single syllable, you rose back to your full height, watching eagerly as he made as though to follow after you, but remembered his position.
His eyes flickered with a mix of anticipation and confusion, his brow knitting together as realisation dawned on him.
And with that, you turned your back once more.
In doing so, with your presence and gaze elsewhere, Thranduil was able to think clearly.
His eyes trailed after you as you made your way back down the embankment, not once turning back to look his way, as though he wasn’t worth the effort.
But you were.
As he took in his position. As his mind replayed the last few minutes over and over again, he realised that he was indeed wrong. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, no one had ever gotten to him quite like you did.
He chuckled, humourlessly at the thought.
You were indeed, no mere human.
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Shortcuts!
If you’re interested here you’ll find a quicker path to my Masterlist!
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story, I hope you enjoyed!
Love,
Acatalepsy xx
@band--psycho
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elfy-elf-imagines · 2 months
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Tolerate It | Thranduil
▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader
▹ Genre: Angst
▹ Words: ~2k
▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.
▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 
The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 
Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 
Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 
Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.
Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 
You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 
One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 
Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 
The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 
Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 
The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 
Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 
You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?
"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"
At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.
" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."
Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"
You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.
"I could say the same about you, prince."
He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.
"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.
"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.
"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."
"You don't need--"
"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."
So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.
"I think I'm technically your stepmother."
"But you feel more like a friend."
You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.
"Then I am glad we are friends."
Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.
Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.
"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."
He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.
Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.
Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.
When would this torment end?
---
The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 
Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.
The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 
“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 
A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?
“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 
Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.
“It was a bit gauche.”
Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 
“I thought it looked nice.” 
His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 
“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.
Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 
“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 
“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”
“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 
“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.
“To ensure an alliance with your family.”
“That is it? For no reason other than that.”
Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.
“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”
You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--
You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 
“I see.”
A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.
You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.
“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 
Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 
The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare
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ohnonotnow · 3 months
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my library
here's some of the best the hobbit/lotr fanfics I've read cuz they can be quite hard to find and I wanna help
will update the list as I read
Thorin
Smoke, iron and Thorin
Fire and Gold
Learning Khuzdul
Braid of Gold
Thorin being soft
The Beauty of Chance
Those Hands
Misunderstanding
The arrival
A king's crown
Covered In Steam
There's just inches in between us
Thorin after a long day of training with his nephews
In This Moment 
Agreement
Symphony of your life
Oh so quiet
Confession
Find Your Way Back
Fili
fili oneshots
Moonrise
The Most Unpleasant, Defective, and Abominable Incident
Stay with me
The Redeemer
Durin's Garage
Restless
Kili
The book keeper
insecurities
The beauty and the Beast
getting back at Kili for teasing
My Treasure
Madly in love
It's in his kiss
Love Bites
Sway With Me
Wood Carvings
Softly. . .
Sweet like nectar
A Shot in the Dark
Beorn
Early Mornings
Beorn takes care of you when you're injured
Linger
Legolas
Watcher of Wanderers
The Innocence of Brutality
Blessing
Sensitive
Being best friends with Legolas
Hazy Memories
Spellbound
Thranduil
Bookworm
Relax
Best friends father
Fascination
Flower On My Skin
To Meet Under the Stars
Passenger Princess
Autumn Thunderstorm
I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed
Haldir
Gentle Dark
Lindir
My Heart Is In Your Hands
Moonlight
Just a Little Help
Warriors Great Tales
The Fountain
Return to Me
Èomer
Burnt Bread
A Helping Hand
Wildest Dreams
Falling In Love With A Librarian
SFW alphabet
Happiness
A Roll in the Hay
Blessing
Turning Points
More characters
various characters oneshots
Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.
Journey to Erebor
Hair braiding
Elves + Braiding
What Type of Kisser is Each LoTR Character?
The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)
A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company
Cuddling With Thorin's Company
Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.
The LOTR characters reacting to a modern reader
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jomarch-wannabe · 4 months
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Relax (Thranduil x Fem! Reader)
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Pairings: Thranduil x Female Reader
Synopsis: The Elvenking has had a long day.. he has an idea on how to relax
Warnings: Smut 🔞 (power dynamic, size kink, dub-con, breast play, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, praise kink, fingering, dry humping, multiple orgasms, marking (biting), pure filth)
Author’s note: I started watching the Hobbit with my dad and I actually had to hold myself back from (s)creaming when this man appeared on screen. This entire fic is the inner workings of my touch starved mind. Hopefully this reaches the target audience.
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“You sent for me, my lord?” You stood in the door frame of the Elvenking’s chambers, clasping your hands in front of the other. In anticipation you played with your fingers, awaiting his instruction.
The truth was, you developed a strong infatuation for the king. His calculated and elegant demeanor captivated you. He walked and carried himself with such grace, yet held a sense of immense power and dominance. You wondered what darkness lied beneath his light eyes, and what form existed beneath his silk robes.
“Yes.” The word dragged slowly off his lips with a languid, cocky tone. He studied you from under his dark brows, thumbing his chin. The cushion beneath him squeaked as he adjusted his hips, widening his legs. You swallowed at the view, flicking your wide eyes over his form.
“Come. And shut the door behind you.” His commanding baritone made you shiver with nervousness. With a trembling hand you pulled the door closed, finding yourself alone with him. It was quiet except for the shaky exhales fleeing your lips.
The pads of your feet pattered timidly against the stone floor as you faced him, beholding him stretched out on a lounge chair, dressed in expensive garments.
He observed you with a controlled expression, his angular fingers thumbed the wooden armrest, drawing circles, slow, and deliberate. A warm pulse commenced in between your thighs at the sight.
“I require something from you.” He broke the silence, drawing your attention to his commanding blue eyes.
Your breath hitched as your eyes darted to his, “Yes? My lord?”
He took in a breath, letting his eyes wander for a moment. He was troubled, evident by the subtle knit of his black brow. “I’ve been.. tense, you see.” He let out an exasperated breath, finding you with his sapphire eyes. They glinted with lust, sparkling in the warm amber light of the room. “I require your assistance, to relax.”
A burn crept over your face at his words. You suddenly felt very small and weak before him. A pit formed in your stomach, capturing your breath. You struggled to speak, “I’m not sure how I could help.”
“Ah.. but I think you do pet.” His pink lips pulled into a smirk, glistening with saliva as he darted his tongue out to wet them.
A whimper threatened to flee your throat, you stifled it by biting your lip.
“Come along now.” He motioned with his fingers, showing off the band of gems ornamenting them. “Be a good girl for me.”
As you faltered towards him, a cool, musky scent evaporated off his skin in his proximity. You breathed him in, growing warm with arousal.
“On your knees.” He instructed in a controlled tone, looking at you down his nose. In obedience you dropped slowly to your knees, noticing the thumping of your pulse in your ears. You dared to touch him, cautiously caressing your hands over his thighs. They were firm and muscular, twitching under your touch.
Soft exhales fled your parted lips as you gazed up at him in desire. His grip on the wooden armrest tightened as he took you in. Your wide needy eyes, and long hair flowing over slender shoulders, and the top your breasts.
His garments wrestled as he sat up, hovering above you. Your stomach caved as your eyes followed his finger, grazing over your shoulder. With a calculated swipe, he released the strap, loosening the bodice of your dress.
“I want this off.” He murmured darkly, undressing you with a predatory gaze. In eagerness you helped him, unhooking the other strap. The garment slid down your chest, revealing your breasts to the still air. Your nipples became erect in the cold air, pink and hard.
“Enchanting.” He gasped in admiration, feeling himself growing hard. He shifted in his seat, searching for friction. He couldn’t help but touch you, exploring your left breast suddenly, pinching your nipple between his finger. The pressure made you jump slightly, feeling a jolt of pleasure.
“Shh.. be a good girl now.” He asserted, aroused by the feeling of your soft breasts.
“Y-yes my lord.” You stuttered, feeling your eyelids flutter at the circling of his hard fingertips.
His hand slid around your back, urging you up. You straddled his lap, settling on the tops of his thighs. A unison sigh filled the air as you felt the weight each others bodies. His head leaned forward, brushing his pointed nose against your sternum. Your hand came over his head, sifting through his soft strands. A wet warmth commenced as he latched his mouth onto your breast, sucking softly. He let out a low groan, vibrating against your skin.
“F-fuck..” you whimpered, grinding your hips against him. He hummed lowly, continuing the action.
“Oh fuck..” your eyes fell closed in pleasure, tugging softly on his white blonde hair.
“Such a pretty thing.” His warm breath fanned your skin as he praised you, peppering kisses along your chest.
“All for you.. it’s all for you my king..” you sighed, relaxing under his touch.
“How does your mouth taste I wonder?” He questioned with an inquisitive look in his eye, pulling back to look up at you. The weight of his hand came suddenly to your head, sifting through the roots of your hair. His eager grip tugged you towards his face. The feeling of his large hand sent chills down your spine, making you shiver in pleasure.
His nose brushed against yours as he inched closer, speaking against your mouth, “y/n.”
A desperate moan fled your mouth as you looked into his eyes, those captivating, sapphire eyes. He palmed your face, leaving goosebumps on your skin as his thumb caressed your cheek. Your eyes danced over his expectantly, brushing your lips against his. He stuck his tongue out, licking your bottom lip, before closing the gap, capturing your mouth.
The force of the kiss pushed you back slightly, making you gasp. His grip kept you upright, growling primally as he tasted you. His lips were soft and full, molding against yours perfectly. You moaned into his mouth, enraptured by his dominance.
A wet pop commenced as you pulled away from him, breathing heavily. Your eyelids fluttered open, entranced by him. They scanned over his face, to his swollen pink lips and lust blown eyes.
“I want you now my angel..” his hand thumbed over your cheek affectionately, not breaking eye contact.
You bit your lip, nodding in agreement, before sliding slowly off of his lap to his feet.
At this angle he looked even more ethereal. An amber light poured over the top of his frame, casting gray shadows on his prominent cheek bones and deep set eyes. He looked masculine, powerful, forcing your being to submit to him.
You fingertips explored the soft silk of his pants, moving up to the waistband. With eager fingers you hooked the fabric along with his undergarments, shuffling it down his thighs.
Your stomach sank at the view of his hard cock, bobbing towards his abdomen, free from the confinement of his clothing. The sight made you salivate. He was long and thick, with a pink tip and trimmed blonde hair at the base. He moved his position, letting out a sigh as he grew comfortable, making his length bob slightly.
You swallowed thickly, losing your breath. Unable to wait anymore, you settled your elbows on his thighs, extending your tongue on the shaft. He was warm and heavy. The pulsing of a vein throbbed against your tongue as you licked a clean stripe up to the head. He let out a low groan, knitting his thick brows together as he watched you.
You let out an aroused moan, lubricating him with your mouth. Your eyes didn’t leave his, you were entranced by the contorted look on his face. One that you only ever saw in such control.
He let out groans of pleasure as your fingers wrapped around him, dragging the head against your lips, coating them with precum.
As you pleased him his fingers sifted through your hair, grabbing a fistful of your straight strands. The grip made you involuntarily move downward, pushing his length into your mouth, you gagged instinctively.
“That’s it…” he sighed, bucking his hips up in pleasure.
You whimpered around his cock, digging your nails into his thighs as you struggled to fit it all. He was heavy and warm, filling the back of your throat.
Your lips closed around him as you pulled back, sucking.
“Ahh..” a gravely groan came from him, flexing his fingers in your hair.
His sounds made your core throb, warm in between your thighs.
As you struggled to take him all, he began to take control, moving your head with his hand. His hips nudged upwards as he guided his cock in and out of your mouth, brushing his pubic hair against your nose.
Your eyes closed shut as you gagged, spilling saliva down your cheeks, onto his thighs.
“That’s it.. fuck.. you feel so good little one.” He panted, sloppily bucking his hips up and down. Suddenly he stopped, making you hold still. You struggled, gagging and spitting. You writhed against his hand, unable to pull back.
“Shh.. stay still darling.. be good.” He hushed, sighing lewdly.
Your throat closed as you struggled for air, before he finally lifted your head up, granting you breath. You sputtered and coughed, licking your dripping lips.
“I’m not finished yet.” His deep baritone made you shiver as he forced you back onto his cock, hitting the back of your throat.
“Ah.. ah! I’m close..” he was desperate now, grinding his hips upward as he chased his release. A muffled moan came from you, you loved the feeling of his thick cock claiming you, making you obey and submit to him.
His thighs shook against your fingertips as he reached his peak, sloppily bucking his hips. With a loud guttural groan he came undone, emptying his release down your throat. The feeling was warm and salty, making you wince.
“Take it all,” he panted, “swallow your king’s seed.” You obeyed, squeezed your eyes shut as you swallowed it down.
Once he was satisfied, he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you off of him. Your wet, swollen lips gaped open as you caught your breath, finding him with your eyes.
“Get up.” He commanded you, pulling you to his lap with his hands. You squeaked as you straddled his lap, feeling his hard cock in between your thighs. You couldn’t help but moan, feeling the wet tip brush against your clit.
He manhandled your waist, turning you around so you were facing the door, with your back pressed against his chest.
“Open up for me flower..”
Your stomach caved with your breaths as you widened your legs, extending them over the top of his thighs. He was so large, your feet reached just past his knees. His strong chest pressed against your back, vibrating as he spoke, “your mouth.” His sultry whisper hovered next to your ear as he inched from above you, brushing his nose against your cheek.
Your plump pink lips fell open for him. From the corner of your eye you followed his hand, holding your chin with his thumb. Two long fingers pushed into your mouth, sliding over your tongue. You gagged slightly while moaning.
“Suck.”
In obedience, you closed your lips over the digits, swirling your tongue over them as you sucked, humming.
“Good girl.” His lips parted as he watched you in admiration, hungrily observing you with his crystal eyes.
His fingers pulled out of your mouth, tugging down your bottom lip. You smiled, gazing at him in amusement and arousal. His thumb moved down your chin, palming your chest, and gravitating down your stomach. You whimpered at the warmth of his strong hand. You watched his hand move further, down, and finally.. there. Your body tensed as you let out a moan, indulging in the sudden pressure against your clit.
“Shh.. relax my angel.”
A jolt of pleasure moved down your legs as he rubbed into you, making you head fall back.
“F-feels.. so good..” pleasure filled tears blurred in your eyes as you submitted to him.
His nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling deeply as he planted his lips on your skin. “My treasure.”
A whimper came from your throat as you pushed your hips forward, pressing against his fingertips.He groaned in arousal, exploring his fingers down, slipping in between your slick folds. “Soo wet for me pet.” He dragged his words out, vibrating against your skin.
“Y-yes..” your hand came behind you, holding onto his neck, warm and flexing with his movements.
Without warning he delved his fingers into your entrance, making you gasp. A wet feeling came over your back as his still hard cock rubbed against it.
“Oh fuck.. please please…” you squirmed, digging your nails into his neck as you clenched around his fingers.
He groaned lowly at the sensation, aroused from the pain. He granted your wish, delving his muscular fingers in and out of you. Each deliberate push and pull built your arousal, making you squeeze around the intrusion.
“F-fuck..”
He planted soft kisses on your collarbone, scraping your skin with his teeth. A low groan came from him as he bucked his hips upward, stimulating himself against the curve of your back.
Your face flushed with exertion as you neared your high, dripping arousal down your thighs from the repeated thrusting of his fingers.
“Please.. please please..”
“Are you close pet? Are you going to come for your master?” He fanned you with his breath, rapidly bucking his fingers in and out of you.
“Yes! Yes please.. please..” you let out a pornographic moan, feeling a tear fall down your cheek as your eyes fell closed.
His chest caved with his breath as he fucked himself against your back, simultaneously pleasuring you.
“Come with me my angel.. come with me..” the request came out strangled as he struggled and panted, grinding against your spine.
In a few final deep thrusts you came over the edge, shaking against him as you mouth fell open. “Fuck fuck fuck..” a prayer of pleasure able sounds came from you as you rode out your high, squirming helplessly on his lap. His teeth sunk into your shoulder as he groaned lowly, ejected ropes of warm cum against your back.
His fingers slid out of you with a wet squelching noise, finding place around your neck. He squeezed softly, pulling your head back to face him.
“My darling..” he sighed with a smirk on his face, leaning down to scrape his teeth along your throat. You whined, submitting to him, weakly thumbing his clean shaven jaw. His nose tickled your throat as he sucked your skin, marking you.
“Do you feel relaxed now my king?” You asked him breathlessly, searching for his deep set blue eyes.
He hummed, pulling away to look at you. “Very much..” his nose brushed your cheek as he murmured in a gravely tone, “thank you for your services my flower.”
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@emmieson @mithrilandvilya @cassiopeiathranduilion @pandaalisa @merovingianprincess @telltale-vixen
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qlassicc · 4 months
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My taste in men 1
Adrian - Castlevania
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Aemond Targaryen - Hotd
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Fujin - Mk11
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Thranduil - Lotr
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Sephiroth - ffvii
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Conclusion
A man who's soooo loyal to their loved ones and has a lot of trauma(?) and give the ENERGY back the same amount that I gave them
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