#hobbit reader

[shirefantasies]

First off, congratulations on 300 followers 🎉 I’m a big fan of your work! I was wondering if you could write about the different elf characters and how they would react to realizing they have feelings for a hobbit! reader?

Thank you & my apologies for the late response on this one 😅 but this is a fun one so let's see!

The Elves Realizing Their Feelings for Hobbit!Reader

Thranduil

Denial penetrates every corner of the woodland king's mind- such a humble creature, known not in the slightest for their ways of allure, and yet you permeate his thoughts so! Surely it was your reaction to the sight of him, the simplicity of your manner that was ever so refreshing. Thranduil knows little more than reverence to a fault, cowing and great shows and yet…you see him. You treat him as anyone else. No fanfare, but no expectations either. No doubts. Thus he works to doubt you less, to make less assumptions about your ability and even jokes about your stature. He finds as you talk that you share a love of nature, all your reverence dedicated almost solely to the earth’s growing things, the way roots seek what they need. Thranduil does the same, you point out, and ever does he endure in his place of nourishment, but sometimes any plant needs a good repotting. Astute, very astute, and yet your words strike his heart like an arrow. You, he wishes to say, are his repotting. But perhaps he should put that more romantically… all the greatest shows of elvenkind for a mere hobbit. Who would have thought? Thranduil reflects with a fond, amazed smile.

Feren

From the moment he grabbed hold of you, knife pressed to the back of your neck, Feren puzzled at the way his heartbeat sped, not yours. You were no threat to him, you were nothing in fact save an intruder in his lord Thranduil's realm, one of many his patrol took into custody. You were the smallest, he noticed, and certainly the least deadly if the startled, pleading look in your eyes was anything to go off of. Why did you keep... No, he could hardly relent, not when he had orders to- "You are afraid?" He found himself whispering to you, hiding his gaze upon you by hovering it over you and the other hobbit. You nod and he begins to whisper words of comfort to you, explaining that while stubborn, his king was nothing if not benevolent and would likely simply detain you. No harm would come your way. When indeed Thranduil sentenced your odd company to imprisonment, he found himself strolling to your cell time and time again, offering you food and drink and answering your rapid fire of questions ranging from what would happen to you to soon what customs were practiced in the Woodland Realm. "I think this place is beautiful," you told him, "I think if I were to rot anywhere, I am glad that it is to be here." "I think so, too," Feren agreed, and why he spoke the next part he still did not know, "And I do not think that shall be your fate." It was not until he walked away from you, considering what things he might bring to show you, that he realized how attracted to you he truly had become.

Legolas

Finds himself studying you, gaze unable to fall from you for too long, searching your every movement. Suddenly his interest in hobbits has increased tenfold; in fact, Legolas begins speaking more to Frodo and Sam about their customs, favorite things back in the Shire. His heart swells further for it just as you, taking in with bright eyes every spray of harebell and piping hot cup of lavender tea with scones and little gift of courtship presented to the hobbit of one's dreams. Pastoral, joyful, many delights absent from the prince's own upbringing- what a breath of fresh air you are! But what does he say to you? If possible, the elven prince finds himself even quieter than normal, simply captivated by your every motion. As a result he leans upon conveyance through action, rushing to your defense in battle and being there to catch you when you fall, enjoying in the briefest moments the feeling of his hands about your waist.

Haldir

Years have worn him. Battles have hardened him. Customs have dictated he be free of emotion as much as possible, or else suppress display of them for decorum. You, by contrast, are so innocent, almost painfully so and every sight of your wide, shining eyes has Haldir swearing to protect you. The world cannot take away your wonder, your sweetness, the good you see in all people. Oh, he cannot even wish immortal life upon you for all its horrors, and does he even wish it for himself? The small being remaining within him cries out for your life, to be swept off to your Shire and work hard at cultivating joy above all else. While that future may not lie ahead of him, he seeks it in every question he asks, every story he requests. Often does he marvel at your hidden strengths and wonders, especially in such a deceptively small package.

Galadriel

Oh, the way you charm and flatter her! Someone so small yet without any fear in the world as you spill the sweetest words before her. Galadriel cannot help smiling, especially when you gently take her hand and she sees just how small yours looks in hers. She begins to dream of ways she could hold you, how she can reach down to cup your cheeks… And then without warning she is lost in reverie. Her space is yours and you all but have free rein of her home. All from these unexpected, wildly blossoming feelings. Secretly she wishes you would still seek her out, but Galadriel knows above all that that choice is yours. She will simply have to wait and see and hope each dream she shares of simple joys like a riverside walk or even drawing closer to you in greater, deeper ways from the recesses of her mind, are shared by you…

Lindir

These unfamiliar sensations he experiences in your presence can only be one thing. The desire to run his fingers through your curls, surely soft as they appear. The way you have become his muse, inspiring more than a single song. You have a greater appreciation for arts than Lindir must admit he would have expected of the Shire-folk, and your wonder has him wishing to experience it all again for the first time. Is he to speak these things aloud? Does he dare? Whatever might Lord Elrond think if his servant were to do such a thing? Not, of course, that he has not wished Lindir great happiness. Happiness. Your smile, so genuine, sincere as your bright words. Yes, you are happiness, and such cannot go unspoken, or perhaps unsung…

Elrond

Many words have been spoken of the quiet strength of hobbits, quite a few of them by the Lord of Imladris himself. You are no exception to this, appearing before him as a little blaze of fire unafraid to make demands at council. He cannot even fight, just chuckle and hear your terms, and he wonders if you take notice of the way the others look at his soft response. Why, he wonders, is he being so giving- simple appreciation for the pastoral little folk and all they symbolize for the joy and hope of the world? Perhaps, but a part of him is forced to admit… He is attracted to you. Much time has passed since Elrond has been met with such a force, and quite simply put it stirs something in him. Much as he has endured in this world, your desire to fight for every joy you've ever known rings true to Elrond's own creation of a house of comfort...in your own special way. He cannot help but smile as he listens to you.

Arwen

Developing a little habit for teasing you, Arwen always manages to slink behind you and offer to help you reach something off a high shelf, voice low and lips curved upward. She is older than her visage suggests, wiser, thus you are not the first hobbit to cross her path and she looks upon you with no great shock. She does, however, seek to show a greater level of respect than the so-called 'little folk' tend to be shown. During discussions with her father and the other elves, Arwen smiles and waves you forward, especially if you happen to be shy, then her affection only grows, a hand falling over your shoulder and her smile widening. The more time you spend together, the more this happens, Arwen taking your hand to wish you well, sliding a hand over your waist to move past you, even playfully nudging you when you run together and always keeping pace with you. She is comfortable with you, she realizes, happiest at your side, and that is when it sinks in: she loves you.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #thranduil #feren #legolas #haldir #galadriel #lindir #elrond #arwen #hobbit reader #ask #anon #requested

[friendlyneighborhoodcrow]

An Axe Of Kindness

Hello, there folks! I’m back from a busy couple of weeks though my return is somewhat delayed as I have just recovered from being rather ill. I wanted to give ya’ll something quick while I work on some longer pieces. So here we are and thank you for your patience! And yes, the title is a pun. I feel no shame.

-Crow

So my dear readers, imagine you are a Hobbit, a Hobbit who is no stranger to some hard work on their farm and has been chopping wood for your family for quite some time. You have some skill with the axe, though not battle oriented, and the dwarfs have no idea. How will they respond when they realize you wield a popular dwarven weapon?

Gender neutral!reader (No use of y/n) 

Relationships: All platonic

Warnings include:

Canon typical use of weapons

Canon typical violence (some orcs)

Word count:

1.6k

 Camp was, as usual, full of laughter and conversation. The night was in its infancy, and you were happily settled beside dear Mr. Bilbo and young Ori who worked fervently on a knitted pair of gloves. The day had been long and hard and the weight of your legs seemed nigh unbearable.

“I think my legs might fall off,” you said to no one in particular, “they feel heavier than one of old mister Proudfeet’s pumpkins!”

You reached down to weakly rub at the tender muscles when you heard Kili chuckle boisterously, you looked up to see him staring at you with a toothy grin.

“You’ll have to get used to all the activity my dear companion!” He mused.

“I am used to activity!” You insisted rather bluntly, “You know I am a farmer, and I’m no stranger to a long day!” You saw some of the dwarves quirk their brows, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the synced action.

“Well, I’m not used to walking all day I suppose, but during harvest season I’m outside all day! Don’t even get me started on chopping wood for the winter months!”

You sighed dramatically as though to prove your point and stretched your legs out in front of yourself. With a few more chuckles from your travelling companions, you all continued preparing camp for the coming dark.

As the night settled in and the sun shrunk away behind the horizon, the company sat close to the fire and like most nights, began their shifts of either sleeping or watch duty. It was quiet, the lack of animal calls and even crickets unsettled you as you laid down upon your thin bedroll. The moon was new, and the skies were black as a raven, the only light came from the glow of the dying fire and the shining stars. One would think it was all quite pretty were it not for your mounting concern over the lack of forest sounds. You fought with your woollen blanket and turned until you found yourself comfortable enough to forget about the extended day and the silent night. But then you heard a shriek, close by.

Bolting upright, you looked around. Dwalin, who was dutifully sitting on a fallen log, gripped his battle axe tight as he also swivelled his head. Thorin and Gloin leaned forwards and looked at each other. Another call sounded, and you slowly moved to grab your short dagger when something burst through the trees.

An orc now stood on the edge of the company’s camp and looked around wildly. It gripped twin hatchets and let out a shrill and unpleasant cry. All of the dwarves and two disgruntled hobbits suddenly sprang to life grabbing for their weapons. You now gripped your dagger tight as the beast charged toward the closet dwarf, Bifur. The dark orc raised a hatchet and prepared to deliver a fatal blow but before it could, Bifur jumped back as Gloin charged from the orc’s side, his own axe raised and he struck suddenly. The creature stumbled to the side shrieking and releasing its weapon. The cries it let out were horrifying, to say the least, they fluctuated from a high-pitched scream to a guttural vocalization.

As its cries came to an end, more orcs jumped from seemingly nowhere and you heard Thorin’s booming voice roaring for everyone to assume a defensive position. You were pushed back toward the fire by Bofur, and he gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to the oncoming danger. While you understood his concern, you wanted to be helpful, and that’s when you noticed the hatchets laying on the ground near the first downed orc. Gradually, you inched back and to your side to scoop both of them up. While one was easy to seize from the clearing floor, the other was tightly gripped by the orc. It seemed that he didn’t want to lose his weapon, even in death. Realizing the hold the orc had on the axe, as well as the size of it in your hand. You chose to forsake it and quickly dart back to the safety of your previous position by the fire.

No one seemed to notice your movements as the pack of orcs moved in close and attempted to circle everyone. Without another moment, every dwarf sprang nimbly to life.

The forest was no longer quiet, instead, it was filled with the battle cries of both orcs and dwarves as they charged one another with axes and swords at the ready. You stood with your new hatchet, though it was more like a battle axe in your small grip. The fight was carrying along swiftly and for a moment you thought you might not need to use your newfound weapon when an orc managed to push its way past Dori and raise its sword at Ori. The unfortunate dwarf held tight to his slingshot as it cried and before you could properly register your own movements, you darted over to him.

“It’s exactly like a log of wood,” you whispered under your breath as you promptly raised the orcish axe.

Hastily, you brought it down, striking the orc's lower back. It crumpled in pain before your eyes and you brought the axe down once more to ensure its end as it lay in the middle of the clearing. Breathing hard, you looked up and met Ori’s startled eyes. He smiled gratefully at you before catching sight of something behind you and flinging a jagged rock from his slingshot over your head. At the same moment, you wheeled around and took a quick swipe at a tall orc's gangly legs leaping out of the way as it fell. Panicked, you wheeled around, afraid to see more orcs encroaching on your newfound friends but it seemed that you had efficiently managed to finish off the last of them. You let out a surprised chuckle that sounded more like a hoarse gasp as you caught your breath and the adrenaline began to wear off.

“You did it!” Fili cheered enthusiastically as he looked between you and the fallen orc.

“You undoubtedly saved me!” Ori said rather breathlessly, still clutching his slingshot.

“And you, me!” you answered back.

“Where did you learn to wield an axe like that?” Dwalin seamlessly stepped to stand beside you looking at you incredulously.

“Well I told you I chopped wood for my family, didn’t I?” you tried to joke but as Dwalin continued to stare at you like you grew another head you shrank into yourself. Suddenly his hardened face broke into a smile, “Aye, ya’ did.” he chuckled. A sense of welcome relief flushed through you as your dear companions gathered closer.

Bilbo seemed to emerge from the shadows to pat you on the back telling you that you would have to give him a demonstration. And most of the group seemed to heartily agree to the extra training for the hobbit. Thorin broke into the gathered circle barking for the group to pack up quickly and snuff the fire. As he walked by, he nodded at you and you couldn't help but flash a wide grin back. After carefully packing up camp, the entire company moved quickly through the night, trying to get to safer ground while the forest lurked with orcs. Thorin promised that you would stop during the day for needed rest which earned sighs of welcome relief from everyone.

The following day, the sun beat down on the area where the dwarves had made camp, but the heat did not reach you as you lay in the shade near a stream filled with cool running water. The afternoon had been spent resting and napping so that you could cover more ground before nightfall. And you welcomed the rest with excited arms. The dwarves seemed to have changed their tone when speaking to you. An air of respect for your “skill” with an axe had taken hold and you were not going to complain. The orc axe, which was really no more than a hatchet rested comfortably on your belt opposite from your dagger, you felt a sense of growing pride for your arsenal though the orc axe was an ugly thing. It was a crude thing made for a bloody function rather than to have any noteworthy aesthetics. 

Gloin’s boots appeared in front of your view and you swiftly looked up to meet his gaze. He held himself with his normal prideful stance but he seemed to waver as he rubbed his hands together carefully. 

“So I and the others have been talkin’, and we think that you should have a proper axe.” He said rather matter-of-factly. Your face softened immediately and you grinned up at him. 

“Really? Oh, that’s sweet of you to think so!” you said happily but respectfully. You knew that a dwarve’s weapons were something special and they wouldn’t say such a thing unless they truly thought you deserved one. 

Balin stepped to stand beside Gloin and you rose to your feet. He pulled out a lovely-looking axe and carefully handed it to you. It was well-forged and the metal was imprinted with swirling geometric designs that marked it as a dwarven axe. It was polished to a shine and sharpened with care. It was clearly made for battle. Your face broke into a sentimental smile as you thanked the dwarves. 

“But don’t you go chopping wood with that one!” Dwalin called out from his comfortable spot under a nearby tree. You laughed merrily and agreed as you removed the orcish axe to replace it with the fine dwarvish one.

I hope you enjoyed reading this! I really appreciate comments and reblogs!

#The Hobbit #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #Hobbit reader #bilbo #company of thorin oakenshield #thorin's company x reader #bilbo x reader platonic #thorin oakenshield #dwalin #gloin #bifur the dwarf #no beta we die like clones #that is still my favourite tag #platonic relationships #gandalf shouldn't leave these guys alone for any length of time #orcs #but not cool DnD type orcs #tolkien #i think that's enough tags

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

🌿ESFP 🍁Gryffindor 📜Chaotic Good 🔮Sagittarius Sun, Pisces Moon, Leo Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Bilbo was a distant relation that had told you to look after his home while he was on his adventure

・But in an un-very Hobbit-like fashion, you followed him and the Company

・”Why would you do this? It’s too dangerous! You must go home!” 

・ Bilbo was absolutely belligerently upset with you

・Thorin saw you as extra baggage. But Gandalf defended you, thinking that you might have a part to play later on

・You weren’t that adventurous, living in the Shire was pleasant - it was homely, welcoming and you loved it there. But seeing The Company, something pulled you. Like an invisible chord. 

・Bilbo gave you the silent treatment for three days straight

・You shared Gandalf’s horse, and you didn’t mind it one bit. He was a pleasant companion. He spoke when you felt chatty and was silent when you were tired. 

・Getting to know the rest of the group was difficult

・But one dwarf stood out from the rest

・His long brown hair was constantly windswept, and whenever you looked at him, little butterflies erupted in your stomach

・Your crush seemed one-sided for the majority of your adventure. Until you were both alone together, in a cell. 

・From there your relationship was founded

・As a significant other, Kili is so protective and loving. He’s loyal and at times can be very soppy. 

・He always thinks of you, but can irritate you at times. He’s very physically loving. Kissing your cheeks and playing with your hands. Well, I guess he’s only irritating if you aren’t a touchy-feely person

・Loves how homely you are though

・You’re very good at cooking, and you always make people feel welcome

・You teach each other a lot about your knowledge. His with hunting and weapons, you with herbs, flowers and food

・Always makes you laugh

・Likes to show how devoted he is to you, especially in front of other people, so that others immediately know you’re a couple

・Makes you a lot more spontaneous

・You love his sarcasm though, and it’s something you can bond over

・Your day is always made better when he’s around. He’s just so full of life 

・Makes sure you’re always comfortable and will call people out who are making you feel uncomfortable 

・He’s actually very very understanding

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖: Sweetpea, Twinkletoes, Little Butterfly. 

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆: Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation. He loves touching you; playing with your hair, kissing your nose, even sitting close to you so your thighs touch. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

I Had To Do That by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

  ✧ Chaotic AS FCK (Kili) x Chaotic w/ L Plates (You)

  ✧ Troublemaker x WHY DO YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE?!

  ✧ You Confessed Your Love When You Thought He Was Unconscious

#kili headcanons #kili x reader #kili durin #kili x you #kili x hobbit reader #hobbit reader #lord of the rings #the hobbit #the hobbit headcanons #lord of the rings headcanon #j.r.r. tolkien #tolkien #headcanons #dating would include #s/o headcanons #witchthewriter

[majwrites]

One good reason

Fili x hobbit!Reader

A few days after getting married to reader, Fili gets emotional.

Notes: set after battle of the five armies, everyone lives AU, hobbit reader, not proofread

Fili couldn't really sleep tonight, but it didn't bother him. It had been a busy day and he didn't get to spend much time with (Y/N), so he took this moment to just look at them dreamily. (Y/N) was already asleep and they looked very peaceful. Fili blushed slightly, thinking back to a few days ago when he had finally braided the wedding bead into (Y/N)'s hair and they had done the same thing for him. It was kind of a big deal to the kingdom of Erebor. One day Thorin would retire. Then it would be Fili's turn to be king. For the first time in history a future king of Erebor got married to a hobbit.

(Y/N) enjoyed living under the mountain. They explored all the caves, helped wherever they could and the company and Dis adored them. And Fili adored (Y/N). He still tried to understand how he got so blessed by to meet (Y/N) and for (Y/N) to return his feelings. The adventurous hobbit turned around in their sleep and without waking up reached out towards Fili. The crown prince of Erebor took his lover's hand and to his own surprise he felt tears welling up in his eyes. Grateful tears of joy. The most adorable hobbit of all, the hobbit who never sat still and was constantly searching for adventure had settled down with him and taken him as their husband. By making this decision they had agreed to stay in Erebor most of the time and to rule over the kingdom when the time would come. Fili gently stroked (Y/N)'s hand with his fingers and the prince made a decision. Should his beloved hobbit ever feel the need to leave the mountain and go on an adventure again he would follow. He'd follow them to the end of the world and beyond. He would leave behind their bed chamber and the kitchen and the closed meetings and all the gold under the mountain if it meant he could be with (Y/N).

#reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader #the hobbit x reader #fili x reader #fili imagine #fili #the hobbit #hobbit reader

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

Hello! I'm not sure if you are taking requests atm, so please feel free to ignore if you aren't! If you are, though, would you be so kind as to write for Dwalin with a female hobbit reader who is terribly shy yet always sticks with him because she likes him? Thank you before hand! ❤️

Hello anon and thank you for your ask!

I’m sorry its so short, I’ve reread this so many times that i absolutely hate it so I’m posting it to get it out of my system. I’m in a real writing slum at the moment and nothing I make seems to inspire me at the moment so I will probably write another story on this when I’m more creative. If you want to message me privately so a can tag you when that come out feel free or if not, just keep an eye out for that too.

Warnings: none

Always There

Dwalin swung his axe over his head, bringing it down with force into the log he was keeping still with his left boot. He grumbled to himself miserably at the use of his fine war weapons being used in such a mundane way, but the thought of a nice hot dinner after a full day of riding made him swing again. The wood split easily against the sharp end of his blade and he nodded his head in approval.

That was when he noticed it, the scurrying sound of feet around him. It had become a familiar sound to him at this point of the quest, the smallest member of their party scurrying around him. He thought it would annoy him a first, having the hobbit lass constantly by his side, but now as he watched her pointed ears bounce as she moved and her fuzzy toes curl themselves into the dirt as she collected kindling, he found the hovering endearing. He even took a certain amount of pride that despite his fearsome demeanor and rough personality that it was him of all the dwarves the girl had seemed to open up to the most. If he was with the ponies, so was she. If he was collecting fire wood, she was there to help him. If he was simply laying about, she was laying somewhere close by. The two had bonded with wordless nods and her shy blushing smiles and now Dwalin didn’t know what to do without her with him. He felt lost in her absence.

The dwarf lifted the stacks of wood onto his shoulder to carry back to camp enjoying the way she watched him out the corner of her eye. He let out a grunt to catch her attention and she picked up one last stick before following him back to camp. She hummed as they walked, a tune Dwalin didn’t recognize but quiet enjoyed listening too, and as they unloaded their haul and sat down to rest to tune was still going.

“I like that one,” Dwalin interrupted as he leaned back against a stone he had found, “s’ nice,”

The lass paused, red creeping across her cheeks making Dwalin grin at her shy expression.

“An old tune my mother used to sing in the garden. I’m afraid I can’t remember the words after all these years but it was one of my favorites growing up,”. He hummed in reply, surprised as she continued, “Do you have any songs that you favor master Dwalin?”  

“Well…” he thought out loud, “There is one. But its in Khuzdul so I can’t really sing it for ya,”

She gave a small nod, “Oh right, dwarven ears only. I wouldn’t want to getting in trouble with your brother now would I?”

Dwalin pulled a face and snorted, remembering the lecture Kili received from Balin a few days ago after he taught Bilbo how to swear in the secret dwarven language.  

“Balin’s lectures are the worst, poor lad was there for over an hour. Oh, that reminds me of the time…,”

And as the bulky warrior broke into a story about he and his brother when they were little, the hobbit lass settled down in the grass next to him, leaning against his leg with a look of fondness as she listened.

#trying to get out of a writing slump #writing #dwalin #dwalin fundinson #hobbit #hobbit reader #the hobbit #my writting

[blankdblank]

Right over the back of the crib holding your slumbering infant the very same battle ram that carried Thorin to victory to retain Erebor within the battle born days after your arrival to this great place peered. Beside its legs a knee high son of his, peering on intently as well, causing you to ask Thorin, who sat aloofly speaking to his cousin Dain, whose giant Boar Truffles was sat down on the other side of the crib doing the same. “Thorin why are they looking at my baby like meal?”

Lowly Dain chuckled and said, “Rumble there is training his son to mind your child. All the heirs of Durin have guardians, though if you prefer one of Truffles’ litter could be trained in their stead. She minded all of my younger sisters and little boy till he was shoulder high and chose his own wild boar to tame.”

Wordlessly to Thorin you looked not receiving the ‘got ya’ that you anticipated, but instead, “No barrier and distance can be gained between them and an heir of Durin. Especially one mingled with Hobbits, as we are. Amad was mightily grateful for our Corduroy. Numerous times we tried to divide and conquer but he was having nothing of it.” A chuckle accented his final sentence that was shared by his cousin. All you could do was sigh and just wait anticipating a nip or lunge that wouldn’t come.

Four months later when the bouts of crawling however set in an empty room had you calling out, “Where is the baby?!”

Soft taps that grew louder sounded a clue, and scooting atop its bottom the baby was brought back into your sight for little Persimmons to peer up at you with bright eyes and as much of a smile as he could muster post proud bleat and butt wiggle. “Thank you.” You said lifting your child who fussed at being caught mid escape, “I leave you to grab a single orange and you vanish on me. You may be mostly Hobbit but you cannot vanish on me like that.” Carrying them back to their chair to be fed their afternoon snack to the sound of tapping hooves behind you.

@lilith15000 @jesevans @theincaprincess @devilishminx328 @deepestfirefun another cute one thought up at work :)

#Thorin x reader #hobbit reader #quarter hobbit Thorin #Thorin #Dain #Dain and Truffles #guardian of heirs #Durins #the hobbit #lotr #battle ram

[bettythedwarfqueen]

The Ones Left Behind— Part 2

—Previously in Part 1—

*******

You couldn't breathe.

Please help us! You must save our daughter! Please don't let her die!

Y/N... you knew what to do, so why didn't you do it?

"I couldn't save them," you said breathlessly as you lurched upright on your bedroll. You were damp with a cold sweat that made your H/C curls stick to your neck.

"What did ya say Y/N?" Bofur asked sleepily as he propped himself up on one arm to look at you from where he laid by the fire.

"Sorry if I startled you, there was a spider on me." You lied quickly.

Bofur gave Thorin a questioning look but didn't say anything as they took the opportunity to exchange places on watch. You prayed Thorin would go back to his own bedroll, but he instead strode over to you and stopped short at your feet. "Get up and come with me." He ordered quietly.

You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, feeling frazzled and embarrassed, "If it's about what I said-"

"You can explain the situation to me in a moment, but not here."

Taking a deep breath, you quietly followed Thorin away from the clearing the company had set up in. Neither of you spoke until Thorin stopped and turned around to face you.

"You're shaking." Thorin observed.

"No I'm not." You said refusing to acknowledge that you were in fact visibly shaking. Thorin grumbled something under his breath before shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. You shook your head, "I'm fine."

"Are all hobbits this obstinate or is it just the pair of you?" Thorin asked, draping his coat over your shoulders himself. When you didn't answer, Thorin took a step back to take in the sight. He let out an amused hum, his coat all but swallowed you whole, the dark navy fabric and fur pooling at your feet.

His face grew serious again as he said, "I know this is most likely a difficult topic for you, but I know something has happened to you." Thorin paused, seeing if you would deny it. When you didn't he continued, "You don't need to tell me what happened, but I'm giving you the chance to do so now if you would like. If you don't wish to tell me you may take this moment to collect yourself before you return to your bedroll."

The all too familiar burn of unshed tears stung your eyes and every fiber of your being protested as you said, "If I tell you this, Bilbo must never find out. He's one of few in the Shire who don't know the truth, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Thorin listened to you quietly, never interrupting as you told him the truth. You were an indentured servant for a lord in Frogmorten who often hired you out to others as a traveling physician for a hefty fee. He had a number of servants who he hired out, but he took pride in the few unlucky hobbits he had under his employment. Not unlike Bilbo's reason for being hired on for the company, your Master knew the usefulness of hobbits and capitalized on it. Physicians that could easily go by unnoticed were most useful during the more important social gatherings. You went by unnoticed unless there was a mistake.

You talked for what seemed like hours until you caught up to your present job under Gandalf. He was the kindest out of the group of regulars who purchased your services.

You cried harder at the memory of the day he invited you on this journey, he promised you half of his share at the end of the quest. And if the quest failed he promised to still buy you out of your contract with the lord.

Regardless of the outcome, at the end of this quest, you would finally be free once more.

The idea of being from this hellish cycle filled you with an overwhelming sense of hope, but also a unsettling undercurrent of panic. You would never have to suffer having the fate of someone's life rest in your hands if you wished it, but what would you do if you didn't help the sick and wounded? You had no other skill sets.

The feeling of panic swelled in your chest and sapped the strength from your legs. Thorin knelt beside you on the ground. He gathered you up quietly and pulled you to his chest. Despite your panicked uneven breaths, he calmly knelt there on the forest floor with you in his arms until your breathing almost matched his own. You sat there in silence, and tried to focus on the slow steady rhythm in his chest.

You felt the words rumble in his chest when he finally spoke again, "You may not believe me when I say this, but I understand the grief that has a firm hold on your heart Y/N. As you know we too have staked everything on the outcome of this quest. But we will do everything in our power to ensure that you claim back your freedom as soon as we claim back our home. If you are unsure of what you will do after you are free, know this, the halls of my people will always welcome you and your kin. I swear it."

*******

To be continued?

*******

Masterlist

#hobbit #my fanfiction #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #hobbit fanifiction #hobbit fanfic #hobbit drabble #bofur #hobbit reader

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Characters who would be in denial for loving a human and might use their powers/authority to get human!Reader.

Tom Riddle

If it isn't obvious, Tom hates anyone who is a muggle born or a muggle...he is racist despite being a half-blood himself.

But when it comes to you, his beautiful muggle bestfriend who is the daughter of the orphanage owner, he is a different person.

Tom tries to convince himself that he is only obsessed with you for your beauty, something which he believes Hogwarts girls lack.

But he knows that is a lie, because he never cared for looks.

He only cares about benefiting from others.

And Tom believes he can benefit from your affection by marrying you.

The affection he didn't receive from his mother, he can receive it from you.

Even if he has to use forbidden spells to get you to fall in love with him.

Thranduil

The Elvenking of Mirkwood loves his realm but he also shows disdain towards anyone who isn't of his kin.

But when sees you, a human that is very similar to his wife in personality, Thranduil finds himself in love with you.

So, to trap you in his realm, he decides to offer a deal.

Sacrifice your freedom and he will free your hobbit and darwfes friends.

Yes, humans die quickly, but he wants you to spend the rest of your years by his side.

When he sees your hesitation, he decides to use his authority.

"If you wish to refuse, you and your little friends will rot in the dungeons, but if you accept, they leave and you will be treated like a queen"

In the end, you accept his offer, not knowing it's a marriage proposal in disguise.

Vlad Dracula

Even though, he was a human once, Dracula hates humans, simply, for killing his wife.

And you knew the rumors about the count being a vampire who drinks the blood of humans.

Yet you ignored those 'rumors' for the sake of getting the job.

Working as his only servant, you made sure to obey his every word.

Dracula would watch you silently clean the castle while drinking his cup of blood.

It's clear you have discovered that he is a vampire by now, but what amused him is you continuing to work under him.

The vampire tried to resist the thoughts of falling for you, despite his possessiveness of never letting you out of his castle.

Dracula decides after long thinking, that he does hate humans, yet he can change you to become like him...you will be the first person he will transform into a vampire.

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #thranduil x reader #tom riddle x reader #yandere tom riddle #harry Potter #the hobbit #yandere dracula #dracula x reader

[ohnonotnow]

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

Lost My Way

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

#fanfic #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #the lord of the rings #lotr #jrr tolkien #kili #kili durin #fili durin #fili and kili #x reader #the hobbit thorin #thorins company #some smut #oneshot #bilbo baggins #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #thorin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #lindir x reader #lindir #eomer of rohan #eomer x reader #beorn #beorn x reader #thranduil x reader

[elfy-elf-imagines]

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.

✧･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

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit one shot #the hobbit #lotr imagine #lotr oneshot #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings imagine #middle earth imagines #lotr #tolkien #lord of the rings #lord of the rings oneshot #mirkwood elves #lord of the rings fanfic #king thranduil

[shirefantasies]

This is kind of dumb but I gotta ask could you write about the hobbits with a reader is quite a bit shorter than them? Like a bit below their shoulder kinda short? I know it’s and off request but I gotta ask. Thank you and I really love all your writing by the way. I start smiling and kicking my feet every time you post something lmao ❤️❤️❤️

Nah, it’s not dumb! I mean statistically it seems like female hobbits are shorter than guys just like in the other races so that makes sense! Reader is a beautiful hobbit lass :) posting again so soon because I woke up with some distressing stuff happening surgery wise & I need some fluff ok 😔

Little Things- The Hobbits x Shorter!F!Hobbit!Reader

Frodo

✧ When he invited you on one of Bilbo’s little out-of-town adventures, the first place he wanted to take you was the bookshop, and that was before he realized how adorable you looked standing on your tiptoes trying to reach the higher shelves, some of which Frodo could help you pluck from and others he needed a ladder for too.

✧ Never lets you lift a finger when your family hosts dinners, rising and insisting that you’ve done plenty in preparation, let him at least get down the dishes and serve you up. Besides, he remembers all your favorites and dishes you extra!

✧ The way his hands run through your hair upon every embrace.

✧ As winter draws near, he enlists members of his family to craft a pair of gloves perfectly in your size, presenting them to you before the first snow and gently aiding you in pulling the soft warmth on, eyes shining at your gratitude.

✧ Comfortingly rests his hand upon your shoulder, which he can't help but thinking is the perfect reach away, whenever he sees concern bloom across your beautiful features.

✧ Feels heat rush to your cheeks when your smaller hand rests upon his, not quite covering it but blanketing it in the greatest warmth nonetheless.

Sam

✧ Sam hasn’t a strong preference for height, so you won’t see so much of a difference in the way he’s attracted to you…

✧ …you will see it in how much he loves the way you make him feel needed! He gets the softest smile on his face when you ask him to help you reach things.

✧ One day he sees you carrying a sunflower that’s even taller than you and his heart bursts with the realization that you’re his sunshine, you’re all he wants.

✧ Jumps between you and danger any chance he can get- even things as small as an apple tumbling off a cart toward your head have him rushing forth to catch them, check if you are ok.

✧ Insists on helping you put your trellis up, a great arch marking the entrance to your beautiful little home, doing all the hardest parts for you and letting you focus on your flowers.

✧ Loves the way your hands reach up for his shoulders to take him up into hugs!

Merry

✧ Teases you just a bit, occasionally resting an arm gently stop your head just to enjoy your reaction.

✧ Always lends you a hand to help you climb up the farmers’ fences, making sure you’ve gone over before he does anything else.

✧ Pulls you a little extra close to his chest when he hugs you, a hand going around your waist and his head resting atop yours.

✧ One of his favorite memories is of the day you two passed a field a few days after a new lamb was born, her young shepherd letting you hold her in your arms. Your gentle smile and how big even such a small creature looks in your grasp just has him softer than anything. Merry can't help himself imagining the sight of an even smaller animal or maybe even a baby.

✧ Lifts you up with both hands around your middle after daring you to try and reach the highest-hanging delicacies of your favorite apple tree.

✧ Feeling bold, he'll take the opportunity to reach up beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Pippin

✧ “That’s quite a nice ring. Can I see if it fits me?” “I doubt it, but you can sure try.” Pippin finds it’s a bit too small for his ring finger. “Guess so. My hands aren’t so much bigger, are they? Let me see.” Holds up his hand palm-out just to feel the press of your slightly smaller one against him, smiling with the contact.

✧ Stops by randomly with treats in hand for you, especially things like tartlets from his cousins' house or little cupcakes because even if you don't realize it, those small sweet treats never fail to remind him of you!

✧ It flusters him that much more if he trips in your presence, bringing you, the smaller of your duo, to be the one catching him. At the feeling of your arms around him, though, he will never complain.

✧ He always stays by your side, even to the point of you two falling asleep next to each other. Your head droops to his shoulder, and his rests atop yours.

✧ Forgets himself in his typical habits, slinging an arm around your shoulders when he gets too focused on the topic at hand; when he comes to, he cannot help noticing what a perfect height you are for the pose!

✧ Lets his head fall down the little distance to connect your foreheads when you share an especially fond goodbye or comforting embrace.

Bilbo

✧ Becomes quite the guard dog around you! Will never tolerate a single slight to your character, which has shown to be the very highest thank him very much.

✧ Shyly walks by your hobbit hole when he knows you’ll be picking from your orange tree, hoping you’ll invite him to join you. Fetches the higher-up ones and only keeps them at your insistence. Marvels at the size difference of your hands as you hand him a jar of the marmalade you recently made.

✧ Loves playing up the heights of things in all his wild tales that much more, whether they are trolls or towering cliffs, because surely they are many times your size, right? He thinks with a grin as he spins his yarns.

✧ Gets pushed into a dance with you at some party or another; glancing down to meet your eyes, he cannot help darting a brief gaze to your lips, flushing at their proximity and the feeling of your hands in his.

✧ The first time you grab him into a hug, his hands freeze for a moment before he finally lets them settle at the small of your back, daring to rub a soothing circle there.

✧ "Here," he gets your attention quietly, reaching down, "let me get this for you." Gently his fingers brush your hair, removing the leaf that had gotten tangled in a curl.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @kilibaggins @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #bilbo #female reader #hobbit reader #ask #anon #requested #hope you enjoy!

[gloomwitchwrites]

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

“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

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil imagine #thranduil fluff #thranduil fanfic #thranduil fic #thranduil x female reader #thranduil x f!reader #thranduil x fem!reader #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit thranduil #lotr fluff #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit movies

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐠𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ            

🌿ISFJ 🍁Hufflepuff 📜Lawful Good 🔮Taurus Sun, Cancer Moon, Aries Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・If either of you needs to leave the Shire, then the other always comes too

・Sam is infatuated with you and has been for a while. He’ll never get enough of you. 

・It was Frodo who got you guys together because neither of you would make a move

・Sam said he can’t move in with you until you’re married. But you don’t live too far from each other

・He brings you flowers every morning and has dinner with you every night 

・Merry and Pippin absolutely tease the sh*t out of Sam. They like seeing him annoyed 

・You made a bracelet for Sam, and he ALWAYS wears in. Only ever taking it off when he bathes because he doesn’t want it to fade/fray 

・Sam can get very jealous, very easily though. When someone gives you too much romantic attention (he knows when someone is being kind compared to someone who’s flirting with you). 

・He confessed his feelings to you the day after a fierce battle. He didn’t know if he would make it and all he could think about was you. 

・He’s a Ride or Die kinda person. He’ll defend you until his last breath. You never have to worry if he has hidden secrets or motives. Sam is completely honest about himself

・When you come to him upset, Sam will hold you close and grasp the back of your head, holding it again him. 

     “Shhh, hey hey. What’s the matter?” 

・He’s more of a comfort first, fix second type of person

・Sam looooooooooves dancing with you. He spins you round and round, both of you laughing, no worries in your mind

・Sam can be a bit naive when it comes to those in authority. He doesn’t realise that not everyone in charge knows everything. 

・Not many people have seen the inside of Sam’s bedroom. It’s on the south side, so it doesn’t have a window. For light, he has many candles that he takes the time to light at night (it’s a part of his routine). He loves bathing, and does so as much as he can (2-3 times a day) 

・Isn’t the best at reading, that’s why he throws himself into physical work 

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖:

Dear, Honey, Pumpkin. 

Sam has a lot of food-related pet names for you. It’s because he’s combined his two favourite things, you and food. 

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆:

Acts of Service & Quality Time

It means a lot to Sam when you spend time with him. His insides are constantly fluttering, and you catch him staring at you dreamily a lot. He’s just a really loving guy! Sam also loves doing things for you - working on your garden, fixing anything in the house, etc. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Only The Beginning of The Adventure by Harry Gregson-Williams

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

・Forever In The Honeymoon Stage

・Aggressively Supportive

・Troublemaker (You) x WHY DO YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE? (Sam)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

It’s Always Been You

#samwise gamgee #samwise the brave #samwise #samwise gamgee x reader #samwise gamgee headcanons #lord of the rings #lord of the rings headcanons #witch the writer #lotr #lotr headcanons #headcanons #dating would include #would include #relationship tropes #romantic plot trope #hobbit reader #lord of the rings reader insert #reader insert #fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #fanfic #samwise x hobbit reader

[trashcancalicojack]

The company: So what's for dinner?

Bombur: I can't tell you, it's a soup-prise!

The company: ...

Gloin: Is it soup?

Bombur: I soup-pose it could be! *winks*

Dwalin: Please, enough with the soup puns!

Bombur: Wow, you're soup-per mean

Thorin: STOP

*one hour later*

The company: It's fucking roast beef?!?!?!?

#thorin company #i think bombur has an excellent sense of humour #bilbo is somewhere in the back weezing and with laugh tears down his cheeks #those two together are wonderful #bofur must be also laughing his ass off somewhere #thorin company reader #bagginshield #bilbo baggins #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #dwalin #balin #fili #kili #fili and kili #bofur #bombur #bifur #ori #nori #dori #gloin #oin

[entishramblings]

Watcher of Wanderers [Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: this was intended just to be a mini one-shot to get back into writing. although, I will admit I got carried away. oops. heh.

Pairing: Legolas X F!Reader

Song Inspo: Mountain Meditation by Chantress Seba

🌬️ I highly recommend listening while reading

Summary: Legolas senses a presence following the fellowship on their journey and it seems to be particularly fond of him.

Disclaimer: all mythology related to the reader was made up for plot purposes lol. not canon.

Word count: 5.6k (once again, idk why I’m like this)

Warnings: comfort, fluff, loneliness, flirting, suggested sexual innuendos, stalking sort of (yes, again, I know. you’re just gonna have to read it I can’t explain it)

Additional Content: moodboard linked here

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

When you are nothing but a breeze that passes through the travelers’ bending hair. When you are nothing but a tickle that brushes upon the vagabonds’ breaking skin. When you are nothing but a whisper that hisses upon the wanders’ deaf ear. When you are nothing but alone, you too are a voyager.

That’s what (Y/N) was, wasn’t she?

She sailed through the years, watching every war and every battle. She observed every lover as she observed every enemy. She attended to them all, from their start and to their end. She perceived them hunt—first for food and drink, the simplest things, then for more. She witnessed them build—smaller creations in the beginning, then large structures that reached deep into her sky. She gazed at them as they grew, in mind and body. They began as little screaming balls of flesh, then sprouted into large beings that walked and talked. They produced more of themselves. They multiplied. Families, they had called it. She saw each one of them go by, twisting with desire as they did with age. Each was sneaking to find something—riches, power, hope, love, safety—but it didn’t really matter. She just bore witness. She bore witness to the happiness and to the dread. Yet, even when it was dark and desperate, she did nothing. She was silent—as she was meant to be.

Cursed to ride the winds for all of her immortal years.

Cursed to guide them and bend them.

Cursed to behold them.

Cursed to be them.

Alone.

A Watcher of Wanderers.

She was unescorted, unattended, and unchaperoned. She was unaccompanied as she wove through the desolate lands of Arda. Through the oceans, through the deserts, through the mountains, she bent and bellowed. But (Y/N) didn’t need anyone to accompany her, for she simply didn’t exist—at least not in the way one would think.

But after so long in solidarity, watching and observing, (Y/N) wondered what it would feel like to be more than what she was. She wondered what it was to taste and touch, to smell and see, to live and breath.

She thought how pain must feel. How did it bring red to the surface of their skin? How did it bring tears to their eyes? How did it bring screams to their throats?

Still, she wandered more.

She thought how laughter must feel. How did it bubble in their chests? How did it bring water to their faces? How did it bring glee from their mouths?

Still, she wandered more.

She thought about how love must feel. How did it soften their gazes? How did it bring drops upon their cheeks? How did it bring proclamations to their lips? How did it feel to welcome in another soul? Was it safe—not that she would know what safety felt like.

Still, she wandered more.

As each day passed and each traveler followed, she continued to question, guess, inquire.

Some of these creatures were more in tune with the natural currents of the word. It was the immortal beings, distinguished by the pointy ears that lent them an air of otherworldly grace and their lightning-quick reflexes. They were not just any immortals, but those whose lineages stretched back to ancestors who had walked among the Valar themselves. At times, (Y/N) entertained the fantasizing notion that they possessed the rare ability to hear her, though she recognized that this belief was nothing more than wishful thinking. As a watcher of wanderers, she liked these ones best.

Yet that did not mean that others did not catch her eye, for she was curious of anything unusual from the regular patterns of life. And when nine—born of various blood—walked together, her curiosity peaked.

So, she followed them.

One was a Maiar, but not like her. He shared the same celestial origin, shaped as one of the spirits meant to aid the Valar in their worldbuilding endeavors. However, his form differed greatly from hers—a form (Y/N) yearned for. She had seen him many times before, puffing his pipe. He had many names, but most knew him as Gandalf.

Two more figures accompanied him, mortal beings aging like the rolling seasons. Burling and tumbling they went, with their countless heavy weapons. One emanated kindness, his heart a wellspring of warmth. She had seen him before too. But the other, he was….troubled.

Another was one of the immortal, graceful, pointy-eared race—elves, she recalled. He was fluid and elegantant. He was observant and evaluating. He was tranquil yet vigorous. (Y/N) liked this one. She always had liked the elves.

From the mountainous regions of unyielding stone came another companion—a burly and gruff figure. His anger resonated in the sharpness of his words and the boastry of his laughter. (Y/N) could feel his temperament through the earth's vibrations. It wasn't always pleasant

Next, matched four more. They were stompers and stumblers, in a clumsy sort of way; yet, it was evident that they held no desire to ravage the earth. If anything, they seemed to harbor deep affection for it. The sad one broke her heart, the kind one warmed her soul, and the last two made her giggle….and sometimes she thought the elf could hear it.

See that was the thing.

Initially, her fascination led her to accompany them, drawn by their sheer otherness—such a strange assembly of beings walking in unison. But as she ventured alongside them, she felt connected to them. She got to know them, and one seemed to know her….sorta.

The first time she noticed such a thing was when a sound of joy escaped her being.

The two silly ones, which she found out to be named Merry and Pippin, were cracking jokes at one another and performing a game of riddles. As they did so, they ended up breaking into an argument. The most ridiculous words they called each other: mushroom murderer, squash squisher, beet beater…..

She couldn’t help but release a whisper of amusement, and when she did, the elf—Legolas—abruptly halted. His eyes brimmed with uncertainty, and he swiveled his head, as though searching for someone.

But he couldn’t….

No…

He couldn’t have heard her….could he?

Of course, occasionally, all could hear her. In moments of anger, she would unleash her fury with deafening howls and piercing screams, causing gusts to bellow and trees to tremble. Her yell created a hollow sound as it funneled through the rest of the world—echoing upon mountains, bouncing off houses, riding along hills, drifting through the farmer’s mills. It took much frustration to create such a ruckus of vibrations. However, just a faint breath of joy? There was no way the elf could hear that….right?

…..

The second time that a strange encounter occurred was when the group stopped by a deep river. Legolas had wandered a little way away from the group where the trees were denser and the light was less, and oh of course (Y/N) followed.

There, the elf stripped off his clothing, letting the moonlight bend and dip upon his muscled form. The cool night air played gently against his bare skin as he ventured into the water, welcoming the invigorating sensation. With his hands, he meticulously scrubbed away any lingering grime, running his palms across his arms and fingers through his damp hair until no trace of dirt remained.

Gently, he laid upon his back, floating at the surface of the smooth river.

(Y/N) watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and repeatedly. Meditation, she recalled the elvish creatures of the world calling it.

Eager to draw nearer, (Y/N) gracefully glided closer, brushing ever so lightly upon the surface of the ripples. She circled him, her gaze drinking in every detail of his form slightly obstructed by the water—his elegant facial features, his sleek hair, his sculpted biceps, his toned abs, the sharp v-line of his lower abdomen, and, she couldn't help but notice his rather large…

A soft giggle escaped her lips, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.

Instantly, Legolas sprang upright, his feet finding a place upon the rocks beneath the now turbulent ripples. He swiftly pivoted, calling out, “Who’s there?!”

(Y/N) was still, shock and uncertainty shrouding her.

Legolas' cerulean eyes darted anxiously from side to side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He moved with haste, continually spinning around in search of…..something.

“You…you can hear me?” (Y/N) whispered.

He did not respond and his state did not change. There was not an ounce of any recognition across his features.

…..

The third time that Legolas was startled by the curious enigma that appeared to be haunting him was when the fellowship had set up camp for the night.

Gandalf and Legolas were on watch, their attentive gazes shifting from the crackling fire to the perimeters of their camp. Mithanduil contentedly puffed on his pipe, releasing wisps of smoke that ascended into the night sky. Legolas was methodically sharpening the tips of his arrows, preparing for the inevitable fight. The ambiance was strangely peaceful, with the imminent dangers appearing to be held at bay, at least for the moment, even in the face of the dread.

However, this serene atmosphere suffered a sudden intrusion, initiated by (Y/N)'s ever-present curiosity.

She loved watching the creatures of Arda. It was her favorite pastime over the eons. Well, her only pastime. After all, she was a watcher of wanderers. For, as her shapeless form, there was nothing more she could do with her existence.

Therefore, when the elf began to draw whetstone upon the tops of his arrows, (Y/N) wanted to observe. She crept closer to him, becoming entranced by the rhythmic and tranquil nature of his movements. Drawn into the spectacle, she leaned in further and further until, unintentionally, she brushed lightly against his form.

His hand instinctively reached for his shoulder as his wide cerulean blues initiated their frequent and fervent scanning of the dim surroundings—a routine that seemed to be occurring with increasing regularity nowadays.

Gandalf’s gray eyes drifted upon the elf curiously, his bushy brows lifting in questions.

“I swore…” Legolas began, still peering about the campsite. “I swore I felt…something.”

The wizard’s inquiring gaze only deepened, imploring the elf to add more to his rather empty statement.

Noticing Gandalf's unspoken request for more information, Legolas continued, "My apologies, Mithranduil. Lately, I've been sensing a presence. Yet, when I search for it, I'm met with nothing but emptiness and confusion."

Gandalf huffed before pressing his lips to his pipe again, his gaze drifting away in a dismissal of danger. “It is probably just (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” He questioned, still puzzled.

Gandalf glanced at Legolas, and with a nonchalant hum, he spoke again. “The spirit of the wind. A Maiar with a form that knows no shape.” He rolled his eyes as he gruffed out an additional mumbling sentence. “She has a particular fondness for elves.”

Legolas, still flushed with adrenaline, only stared at him. “I—I do not understand.”

The wizard’s gray gaze drifted back to the elf, who was clearly seeking answers. “(Y/N) is one of the Maiar, tasked many ages ago by Manwë to help shape Arda. She still lingers in this realm, often stirring up her usual mischief as she follows wanderers on their adventures."

Legolas frowned. “If she wanders this earth, why can I see her not?”

Gandalf drew another puff from his pipe before responding, "She was cursed to be without form, unlike myself."

“Cursed? But why?”

The wizard raised his bushy brows once more. “Her mischief irked many—especially Manwë.”

“What sorts of mischief do you speak of?”

Gandalf shrugged. “Inconsequential pranks and harmless tricks. Quite frankly, an annoyance to us all, but not dangerous.”

At that very moment, a gust of wind swept in rather forcefully, causing the wizard's beard to billow and lifting his hat into the air, sending it spiraling down to land by his feet.

Legolas's lips parted in surprise as the wind subsided, and Gandalf let out a string of curses and grumbles.

"I believe you might have offended her," Legolas remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

The wizard snorted, his irritation obvious, as he picked his hat up and placed it atop his head once more.

….

As the weeks continued on, Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s subtle presence.

It seemed she was indeed traveling with them. On scorching hot days, a refreshing breeze would rise and caress them gently, offering some much-needed relief. As the autumn months settled in, that coolness transformed into a warm breath flowing through the air, comforting them. When they kindled fires, little gusts rushed forward, providing oxygen and nurturing the flames. If an item of clothing or a parcel were dropped, it would be delicately carried toward a hand ready to collect. It was as if the wind—(Y/N)—was assisting them along their quest.

It was particularly noticeable to Legolas that she often lingered in close proximity to him. Her presence seemed to envelop him frequently, becoming unmistakable and distinct.

When Legolas would be tasked to collect firewood, a gentle breeze would follow him. It would brush leaves out of the way to reveal dry wood and small sticks, perfect for kindling. The wind murmured songs among the soil, almost as if it were beckoning him to dance.

When Legolas would be hunting for food, a calm drift would search alongside him. It would twist through the brush, startling small prey to reveal them to him. The wind breathed wordless encouragement to him, as if challenging him to impress her.

When Legolas would be walking upon hard terrain, a playful gust would walk with him. It would blow his hair away from his face to reveal his features. The wind sent flirtatious laughter upon his elvish ear, chasing shivers along his nerves.

When Legolas would be changing out of mud or blood covered clothes, a devious wisk would linger behind him. It would push his tunic and undershirt upwards to reveal his muscled form then make his extra clothing scatter. The wind whispered sultry glee to him, teasing him in efforts to show more.

This mischievous presence that shrouded him seemed to flirt with him—challenge, play, and engage. Of course, Legolas recalled Gandalf's earlier assertion that the wind spirit held a particular fondness for elves, but the true depth of this fondness had only become apparent as her companionship persisted. He couldn't deny that their ongoing interaction held a certain allure, for he would be lying if he said their little game did not entertain him.

When the fellowship was in Moria, however, silence reigned. The usual gusts and breezes that had accompanied them were absent. It was as if the very air mourned with them. Yet, as soon as they exited, with grief heavy upon their soul, a quick adrenalized wind came to find them. It seemed to brush around the rocks, taking in the pain of the travelers and trying to process what it meant. Though, as the wind noticed one was no longer there, she took to sending warmth their way in hopes to soften the sorrow—shrouding Legolas for just a moment longer than the others.

When the fellowship was in Lothlorien, (Y/N) came too. Rustling up trouble among the elves with flirtatious gusts, lifting skirts and sweeping away cloaks, fostering much annoyance and embarrassment among the immortal elven folk. However, those brushes of wind often struck Legolas more than any other.

When the fellowship—or rather the three that remained—took to sprinting across Arda, the wind ran alongside them. It pushed them forward with encouragement, almost too eagerly and too persistent. It was as if she was whispering ‘hurry hurry’ in their ears—as if she possessed knowledge they did not. Though Legolas suspected neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed the subtle guidance of the wind.

A watcher of wanderers indeed.

As the group arrived in Rohan, their hearts brimmed with renewed hope, for they had gained the knowledge of Merry and Pippin’s life and the presence of Gandalf.

Following Mithranduil's expulsion of the sorcery that had ensnared King Théoden, the weary travelers were ushered to various chambers where they could refresh themselves and find much-needed rest.

Legolas opted to bathe immediately, determined to liberate himself from the accumulated dirt and grime that had clung to his body through the arduous months of travel. He eased into the in-ground basin, the soothing warmth and enveloping steam creating a cocoon of comfort. He tended to his skin and hair with meticulous care until he finally felt rejuvenated. Elves did not like to linger in grime.

Emerging from the bath, he stepped into the adjacent bedroom, where his gaze was drawn to the open windows, allowing the cool breeze to waft in. The wind seemed to recognize him instantly, rushing forth with an almost mischievous enthusiasm. It nearly yanked his towel from his waist! It was only through his quick reflexes that he narrowly avoided a less than modest reveal.

Legolas ground his teeth. “(Y/N),” he mumbled in a chastising tone.

In response, the wind seemed to giggle, as if playfully toying with him.

He rewrapped the towel and hastened to close the windows, yearning for a night of undisturbed peace. Normally, he would tolerate (Y/N)'s whimsical outbursts, but on this night, his weary body and mind craved respite and tranquility.

Legolas changed into more comfortable attire and settled into his bed. He allowed his heavy eyelids to drift shut, for he craved sleep. But after a brief moment, they snapped open.

He watched as the curtains shifted ever so slightly, followed by the tapestry on the wall and the drapes above his bed. The blanket beside him rustled gently, and then, there was no movement in the room.

She hadn't left when he closed the windows.

She was still here.

Though he couldn't see her, he was acutely aware of her presence…right beside him.

The elf couldn't help but blush, a warm crimson hue creeping up upon his ears and cheeks. Oh, if his Ada knew he was flirting with the wind….

In an effort to divert his thoughts from such matters and avoid giving (Y/N) any indication that he was dwelling on them, the elf shifted onto his side, turning away from the playful Spirit whose home was the sky.

…..

Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s presence among the battles at Helms Deep and the Fields of Pelennor; although it wasn't until the latter that he knew for sure she was actively fighting alongside him.

Amidst the relentless chaos, the elf wielded his two silver blades, using them with deadly precision to cut the throat of one orc and immediately behead another. He swiftly pressed on, eliminating as many of the enemy forces as he could.

The men around him were growing weary, their energy dwindling, but Legolas continued to stand firm, even though he too felt the drain on his strength.It seemed the dark forces had taken notice of the relentless devastation he was causing among their ranks, as they began to single him out. Hordes of orcs began converging on him, and Sauron's archers took aim. However, the arrows meant for him didn't find their mark. They veered off course, curving with an unexpected gust of wind, plunging directly into three orcs nearby.

Legolas whipped his head around in astonishment, but it took only a moment for him to grasp the source of this unexpected intervention: (Y/N).

As he continued to take down orc after orc, she remained by his side, using her ethereal presence to force the creatures back into one another, granting Legolas a distinct advantage and a brief moment to catch his breath. She deflected arrows aimed at him and extended her helping hand when he faced the Oliphaunt. She even lifted him up with a gentle drift when his footing faltered. (Y/N) followed Legolas throughout the battlefield, her commitment unwavering, even after the war had drawn to a close.

Exhausted and burdened by grief and relief, the mortal, battle-weary soldiers sought solace and took to rest, heal, and eat.

Legolas volunteered to wander the battlefield in search of any survivors.

He tread carefully, his feet moving softly over the blood-soaked and red-stained earth. The ground seemed to bear witness to the agony, uncertainty, and hope that had marked their strenuous journey. Legolas had never anticipated surviving the trials that had befallen him, yet here he stood, alive and persevering against all odds.

With a heavy heart and the absence of survivors to be found, Legolas, fatigued and drained, decided to make his way back to his comrades who were attending to the wounded and offering peace to those in need.

In a sudden fierce gust of wind, Legolas found himself surrounded by an unexpected swirl. Swiftly, he whirled around, his keen elven senses alert, just in time to witness an orc raising an axe menacingly above his head, poised to strike.

However, Legolas was not met with such a gruesome fate. The wind seemed to rise against the approaching beast, as though an invisible force hindered its advance. However, that force began to no longer be invisible. A strange, translucent figure began to materialize into the opaque form of a woman. She stood, her back pressed against his chest and her front pushing firmly against the would-be assailant. With her arms raised high, she held the axe at bay, preventing the deadly blow from falling upon the elf.

Legolas' lips parted in astonishment, his eyes widening as he struggled to comprehend the event unfolding before him. But everything transpired too swiftly for him to intervene. The figure solidified, to the point that he could feel her against him, and the axe came down at an unusual angle, slicing into the woman's side.

A cry escaped her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, her pain echoing through the air.

Suddenly thrust back into the harsh reality of battle, Legolas swiftly grasped the knife strapped to his belt. In one fluid motion, he drove the blade into the orc's heart. The creature gurgled for a moment, blood pooling from its mouth, before finally collapsing lifeless.

Without hesitation, Legolas fell to the unconscious woman crumpled at his feet. His heart clenched with dread as he noticed the crimson stains spreading across the delicate, iridescent fabric that cloaked his form.

"No, no, no," he murmured, his hands pressing against the wound in a frantic attempt to stop the bleeding. Panic tinged his voice as he glanced at her face, his voice rising in desperation, " (Y/N), you foolish Maiar. Why did you intervene? Why did you put yourself in harm's way?" His bloodied hand gently cupped her cheek. "Wake up. Come on, wake up!"

She remained unresponsive.

Swiftly, Legolas gathered her into his arms, keeping one hand pressed against the bleeding wound, and hurried towards the makeshift infirmary.

Pushing the doors open, he called out in a voice laced with fear, "Aragorn!"

Immediately, the urgent tone drew the attention of those nearby, even in the midst of the ongoing chaos of the healing ward. The Ranger, alerted by the distress in his friend's voice, swiftly moved past the curious onlookers, with Gimli at his side and Gandalf following not too far behind.

“A-an ax to the side. She’s bleeding heavily,” he sputtered out. “Please.”

Pointing to a makeshift bed, Aragorn commanded. ‘Get her on that cot! Quickly now.”

Gimili, entirely bewildered by the unfolding events and his friend’s frantic behavior, called out, “Laddie, who is that?!”

Legolas, gently placing her form on the cot, didn't even bother to look at his dwarf companion as he replied. “(Y/N).”

The dwarf shook his head and raised his hands in confusion. “Who the fuck is (Y/N)?!”

The elf sent Gimli a quick, almost exasperated glance. "The wind!" he snapped back, a bit too sharply.

Gimli’s eyes drifted around the room, his confusion turning into concern for his friend’s well being. “The wind?” he questioned. “Did ya happen to get knocked in the head, tree boy?”

It was Gandalf that chimed in. “(Y/N), a Maiar, the spirit of the wind. She has been with us throughout our journey.”

Aragorn shot the wizard a brief look as he swiftly cut away the mysterious, translucent fabric cloaking the woman and began tending to the deep, bleeding wound.

“With us the entire time?!” Gimli bellowed. “Then why haven't I seen her once?"

Gandalf peered over Aragorn’s shoulder. “She doesn't have a corporal form. At least, she didn’t. I’m afraid this is the first time any of us are seeing her.”

Legolas ran his bloodied hands through his hair, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he stepped back. His chest felt constricted with worry while his eyes remained fixated on the woman as Aragorn worked. “Can you do it, Aragorn? Can you save her?” he implored, his voice quivering with a mixture of desperation and hope.

The man met Legolas' gaze. His determination to save her was unwavering, even in the face of this strange reveal of a profound connection between a force he didn't know existed and his dear friend. Seeing Legolas’ pain, he responded firmly, "I will try."

Gimli, moving to stand beside the wizard, watched the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He couldn't help but murmur, "I've never seen him so frazzled before." His words were filled with a deep sense of empathy for his elven friend, for this had clearly shaken Legolas to his core.

Gandalf let his gaze shift from the elf to Gimli, offering the dwarf a knowing look in response.

The watcher of wanderers had now become a wonder to the wanderers themselves.

……

Legolas sat in a chair beside (Y/N). He was quiet and still as he watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Aragorn had successfully treated her wound, preventing infection, though she remained unconscious. She rested soundlessly, her expression peaceful—despite Legolas’ bloody handprint, now brown, dried, and cracking, that lingered upon her cheek. Her features were graceful and elegant. Each curve and bend of her face accentuated her beauty. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to look like, though how she appeared made sense with her temperament. He could see her flirtatious streak, her mischievous tone, and her protective aurora. She was exactly what wind would be: strong yet gentle, fierce yet calm, emotional yet stern.

He watched over her, just as she had watched over him. So intently, that he didn't notice one behind him until a hand pressed firmly upon his shoulder.

"Legolas," Aragorn began, his expression filled with gentle concern as he inquired, "How do you know this woman?"

Legolas sighed, keeping his gaze on her. "She has been traveling with us," he explained.

The sound of wood scraping against stone told the elf that the Ranger pulled a nearby chair over to sit next to him.

“So Gandalf said. Though I do not understand,” Aragorn admitted.

Legolas shifted. “I started to notice strange occurrences—unexplained events.”

Aragorn raised a brow, “Strange occurrences?”

Legolas felt his cheeks heat as he cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, but more importantly, I noticed something helping us. Consistently.” He paused, “I asked Mithranduil about it and he told me of her.” He shook his head. “He said she was cursed to watch us—us inhabitants of Arda—and not be able to walk among us.”

“Then how is she here now before us, like this.”

Legolas glanced at his hands, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “I asked Mithranduil that too,” he admitted. “He said her sacrifice must have ended her limbo.” He then let his eyes land on his friend and he spoke once more, his tone almost fearful and definitely shy—something Aragorn had never seen from the elf. “If she doesn't survive, because of me, will Arda have wind no longer? I haven't felt a single breeze since she fell.”

Aragorn sighed. “I do not know, my friend. I do not know.” He reached forward and placed his hand upon his shoulder. “Please go clean up and rest. You are no good to her like this. I will take care of her, I promise.”

Legolas hesitated, “But what if she wakes?”

The Ranger sighed again, “If she wakes, I will send someone to—”

He was interrupted by a soft groan escaping from the lips of the Wind Spirit.

Instantly, both Legolas and Aragorn turned to look at the woman.

Her eyelids lazily blinked open, and she gradually became aware of her surroundings. A frown creased her face as she emitted another groan. Her hand moved slowly, making its way down to her bandaged side.

"What... what is this feeling?" she murmured to herself, puzzled by the sensations.

To her astonishment, Legolas responded, “Pain.”

She scrambled to sit upright in bed, the pain surging through her body but the sheer force of adrenaline propelled her actions. “You–you can hear me?” she whispered, eyes wide.

Legolas moved closer, taking a seat on the edge of the cot. In a gentle tone, he answered, "I can hear you. I can see you." He tenderly raised his hand to her cheek, resting it on the dried bloody mark already there. "And I can feel you."

A hushed gasp escaped her lips as she reached up to touch his hand. "It's... it's warm," she remarked, her voice filled with surprise. "I didn't expect it to be warm."

The elf smiled gently in response.

A mischievous smirk then graced her lips, and her gaze, rather unmistakably, wandered down his figure and briefly settled upon his pants. “Is everything this warm?” she inquired with a teasing tone.

Taken aback by her words and her brazen gaze, he cleared his throat. A noticeable flush crept across his cheeks and ears as he broke eye contact. With that, Legolas turned to face Aragorn, who stood behind him with raised eyebrows and a playful grin forming at the corner of his mouth. “My apologies, Aragorn.” He glanced back at the Wind Spirit. “(Y/N), this is—”

She interrupted him, her eyes on the other man. “I know who he is,” she said with confidence. “Aragorn, son of Arathorn the second, also called Strider or Wingfoot, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and the Uncrowned King of Gondor.”

The expressions on both men's faces contorted, morphing to sheer astonishment—how did she know all that?

(Y/N) grinned sheepishly. "I am the wind," she confessed. "I see and hear a great deal."

…..

The Minas Tirith Castle was cloaked in the deep shroud of a late moonlit night as Legolas walked through its ancient halls. The soft flickering of torchlight painted wavering shadows on the weathered stone walls, lending an atmosphere that resonated with the weight of its history. His footsteps were silent as he moved, and his thoughts followed suit, meandering through the corridors of his mind.

However, up ahead, a figure bathed in a gentle glow caused Legolas to abruptly halt in his tracks, his thoughts instantly converging on the woman.

“(Y/N),” he called out, approaching her. “What are you doing away from the House of Healing? You shouldn't be out of bed. You should be resting!”

She let out an exasperated sigh, not appreciating his chastising tone. "I am a watcher of wanderers, Legolas. Therefore, I too am a voyager. It is not in my nature to stay still."

Legolas released a heated breath through his nose. “That may be true, but you now have a corporal form. No longer are you just a breeze.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting her feet to hide the persistent pain emanating from her side. “I may not be a breeze any longer, but I still control all the winds of Arda. I could knock you on your ass in seconds, injured or not.”

Legolas chuckled lightly. “I never would have gotten involved with the wind if I knew she was so temperamental,” he teased.

(Y/N), suppressing a grin, responded with a snarky retort. “Oh, so we are involved, are we?”

The elf sent her a look, trying to hide his expression of amusement. “I would be naive to think that all the times the wind flirted with me, it was just a ploy.”

“Maybe I enjoy a ploy from century to century, Legolas,” she replied.

He laughed lightly at her jest, then took a step closer, his demeanor shifting to one of seriousness. Gently, he pressed his hand to her bandaged side. “(Y/N),” he began softly. “Why did you do it? Why did you get in between that orc and I?”

She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with sincerity. “You know why.”

“Say it,” he commanded.

“Because,” she began, her tone becoming shy and soft. “Because, I—I love you.”

Instantly, Legolas wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips fervently against hers. As their mouths met with equal intensity, he tasted the essence of the wind. And oh, it tasted of adventure, suffering, and joy. It tasted of warm bread from the north, bitter nuts from the east, clear water from the south, and fresh fruit from the west. It tasted of eons and eons of wandering, yet still, she tasted of home. Her hands found their way into his golden locks of hair, twisting and tugging it lightly. He allowed her to siphon off his heat, for the wind was often cold and bellowing. Though, he could tell she was taking more than just his warmth—she was taking his love; and oh, he gladly gave it to her.

…..

Everything Taglist: @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @brun-lieve @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @sydney-1209 @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @redbirdbluebird333-blog @desert-fern @skairipakomtrikru @genderfluid-anime-goth @skairipakomtrikru @hemera1227 @sotwk @sirenofavalon @hobbitsesoftheshire @asianbutnotjapanese @mgchaser @heavenshumour @mgchaser @heavenshumour @casuallyeating-blog @cheari

Everything But Spice Tag: @goldfearless @cauliflowertree @heranintomyknife23times @mxmia @unethicallypleistocene @amessofmultifandom

Legolas tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @abandoncloud9 @aphroditesmoon @carojasmin2204 @high-sea-husbands @aheadfullofsteverogers

add yourself to my taglist

#vayawrites #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas/reader #legolas fic #legolas fanfic #legolas fanfiction #LOTR fic #LOTR fanfic #legolas one shot #legolas drabble #legolas love story #LOTR writer #LOTR writing

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

LOTR and Hobbit NSFW headcanons

(I’m in my lotr horny era and this list could probably be added to 😂)

Boromir:

- His favourite position is missionary with your ankles on his shoulders so he can see your body, especially your tits

- Sex during sparring sessions

- Isn’t very rough in the bedroom but when you fuck during sparring he loves to grab you, force your head down and grab your hips hard

- Can be a little subby

- Loves to be put in his place

- Doesn’t like being or giving spanking but isn’t opposed to getting a couple face slaps

- Likes being bossed around but not degraded

- Wants you to call him ‘captain’ in the bedroom

- “Who own your cock, captain? Who fucks you this good?”

- Is a big ol tiddy boy

- Hand over the shoulder and lightly touching your boob

- “Boromir not in public”

- Not super sexual but after a long day he falls to his knees in front of you for you to hold him

- Will say “oh fuck” as he slides into you

Eomer:

- Very typical but loves when you ride him, loves being able to see and grab all of you

- Lots of riding dirty talk

- “Ride my cock hard, darling. Come on and fuck me hard. Use those gorgeous fucking hips of yours”

- Will guide your hips as you ride him

- Seeing you ride an actual horse turns him on too

- Loooovveesss having his hair pulled

- Especially when hes between your legs or against a wall

- Bending you over his desk and taking you by flipping your dress up and fucking you hard

- When you get a bit drunk you grab his ass and biceps and he loves it

- Loves when you tell him how strong he is, like almost over the top flirting gets him for some reason

- “Oh Eomer, you have such big arms” you tell him all breathy and grabby

- Is so sweet and gentle with you

- But

- When he returns from a battle he will fuck you hard and make you scream

- Very possessive

- “Scream my name, baby, let everyone know who fucks you this good”

- Constantly grabbing you to sit on his lap, especially at parties

Legolas:

- Sensitive ear kiinnnkkk!

- He definitely whimpers during sex

- No matter who’s on top or if he’s being submissive or dominant he always says ‘thank you’ when his cock slides inside you

- Loves to run his fingertips over you so gently and sweet

- Could gently play with your pussy for hours

- Straddling him while he’s on his knees is easily one of his favourite positions

- Being able to hold you so close to him

- Loves listening to your heart beat after sex

- Holding you and pressing his head to your chest

- Loves after sex head scratches too

- When he is a sub he loves edging

- Begging little baby

- “Please, ma’am, please let me cum. Please I’ve been such a good boy”

- Is a good boy

- When he’s dominant he’s very gentle

- Doesn’t really fuck you fast but more hard and bruising thrusts

- Mutters things in Sindarin when he’s lost in pleasure

- Whispering dirty talk in Sindarin in your ear, whether you understand it or not

Aragorn:

- Isnt opposed to tying you up but prefers to bond you by manhandling you

- Says such sweet things to you while fucking you hard

- “Oh princess, you take my cock so good”

- Having to put his hand over your mouth while he finger fucks you

- Forced quiet sex

- “Be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. Don’t want these people to hear you do you?”

- For some reason it turns him on when you smoke his pipe

- Doesn’t like to fuck when he’s been drinking but loves to watch how you dance when you’ve been drinking

- It usually ends with heavy makeout session and touching each other but he doesn’t like full on sex when one of you is drunk

- He loves to watch it from afar too, sit in the corner and watch how your body moves

- Even when you dance with Merry and Pippin on top of tables he thinks it’s so hot

- Will just start saying full sentences and dirty talk in Sindarin while he takes you from behind

- He gets so lost that he can’t help himself

Haldir:

- Outdoor sex

- Pulling your hair while he takes you from behind up against a tree

- The good old sensual archery lessons while he whispers in your ear

- Loves teasing you, especially by standing behind you and whispering in your ear

- “Yes marchwarden!” “Thank you, sir!”

- Slight degradation kink but nothing that actually hurts you

- “Oh look at how you blush just from my words, darling”

- Height kink

- Corners you and standing close and above you just to look you down and make you blush

- Fucks you stupid

- Like your head lulls and your eyes go all misty

- Chasing you down in the forest and fucking you when he catches you

- One of the few lotr fellas I can see being into violent fucking

- He’s rough with how he fucks but he’s just as if not more gentle and caring with aftercare

- Degradation to raise real quick

- “Take my cock just like the whore you are” “Oh my darling, you did such a good job, Meleth. Such a good girl for me”

Thorin:

- This man has the biggest breeding kink

- “Give me an heir, my queen. Let me fill your womb”

- Staring you right in the eyes while he finger fuck you

- Obviously throne sex

- Almost cums in his pants when he sees you in your crown for the first time

- Isn’t usually submissive but you can make him do anything when you wear that crown

- Holds you down by your hips while I fucks you from behind

- Will whisper Khuzdul into your ear while he fucks you

- Fucks you rough but doesn’t want to actually ever hurt or scare you

- The second you’re uncomfortable he will stop and hold you, he’ll even sing to you

- Loves to know he can take care of you

- Such sweet dirty talk

- You’re either his queen or his good girl, no in between

Thranduil:

- Is dominant 99% of the time

- Doesn’t always like when you’re on top but when you are he likes to force your hips to move while he fucks into you

- Wants you to say ‘thank you’ when you cum

- Does want to fuck you hard and rough but will wait and double, triple check before even trying

- Face fucking you stupid

- Is so gentle and soothing with aftercare

- Treats you like a sweet princess during aftercare

- Cockwarming while he does work

- Size kink, loves how much taller he is and how his cock barely fits in you

- “Look how your tiny pussy takes my big cock” “oh, darling, I don’t think it will fit”

- If you’re a human he also has a massive age kink

- “You’re such a sweet little girl for me”

- Staring down at you with your face covered in cum

- Not opposed to some good old pet play

- Is both cruel and loving

- Degrades his dirty little slut pet while he uses them just for his pleasure

- Loves having you sit in his lap and have you curl up to him and hold his sweet little darling

- Holds you and kisses you while you ride his thigh

- Strokes your hair while you hump his boot and look up to him with big desperate eyes

Kili:

- Biggest turn on for him is seeing you dance and jump around

- The way your face flushes and your tits bounce makes him crazy

- Loves being both babied and degraded

- If he could live between your tits he would

- Sitting in your lap, panting and whimpering as he thrusts his hips into your hand

- Mutual masturbation

- Doesn’t like to be hurt too badly but does love spanking and overstimulation

- Shows off whenever you watch him train

- Even if he’s shorter than you he still loves showing his strength by carrying you

- Carry’s you to the bath after sex and takes his time washing your body and your hair

- Just wants to be your good boy

- No thoughts, just be good boy and love boobs

- Does not have mommy issues but does have mommy style kinks

- Loves sucking on your nipples

- (honestly that gif does things to me 🥵🥵)

Fili:

- Knife kink!

- He’d never use his knife on you in a dangerous way but does love to cut your clothes off you

- His beard braids feel amazing and ticklish between your legs

- Hand on your thigh always, during sexual times or not

- Polar opposite things will turn him on

- While you’re fighting he gets hard and wants you to grab his hair and use his cock

- When he sees you taking care of babies his breeding kink comes out hard

- “I’m going to fuck a baby into your womb. We’re not leaving until you’re full of my cum”

- Loves to fuck you in the woods especially when it’s risky

- While on the journey to reclaim his home he liked to take you into the woods and fuck you

- He loved that you had to be so quiet but still he could hear your little whimpers

- He is a prince and next in line to the throne so he has to keep PDA to a minimum

- That doesn’t stop him from grabbing at your thigh under the table and whispering dirty things in your ear in the middle of a party

- Playfully slaps your ass while you’re changing

- Skinny dipping 👌🏻👌🏻

- He has no problem keeping you warm 😏😏

Bard:

- Loves to cum all over your face

- Lots of pet names during

- “Oh darling you feel amazing” “cum for me sweetheart”

- Forced quiet sex

- Packing your wet underwear in his bag while he’s away, he does smell it while he touches himself

- Such a dirty man but great at hiding it

- Loves the noises you make when his beard scratches your neck

- Bit of a caretaking kink

- Gets really horny when you massage him, cook for him, bandage him up, wash him in the bath

- Takes you fishing so he can finger you on his boat

#lotr #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #Boromir imagine #Boromir x reader #eomer imagine #eomer x reader #legolas imagine #legolas x reader #Aragorn x reader #Aragorn imagine #Haldir #Haldir imagine #Haldir x reader #Thorin #Thorin imagine #Thorin x reader #Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil imagine #Kili #Kili imagine #Kili x reader #Fili x reader #Fili imagine #bard the bowman imagine #bard the bowman x reader