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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months

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Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

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elfy-elf-imagines · 3 months

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Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･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

#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

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 2 months

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Imagine some of the elves of Middle Earth find out how easy it is to make you (a human staying in Rivendell) blush and become aroused.

They’re almost amazed how much their sweet words and light touches affect you. They begin to crave your flushed cheeks, the way your breath speeds up and the smell of your arousal. At first they were territorial and wanted you for themselves but now they know it’s better to work together.

At first they didn’t want to have sex with you, not wanting to spoil the seemingly innocent fun, but when Elrond fingers you and tells of how easy it is to make you cum, they all want to learn more.

Thranduil loves how submissive and good you are for him. You do whatever he orders and you look so pretty kneeling between his legs.

Glorfindel is amazed at how much your human body can take and how tight you feel around him. At first he worried he’d hurt you, but he hates the look and sound of disappointment when he holds back from you.

Elrond wants to make you cum again and again and again. He doesn’t care for his own pleasure, he just craves the way you cry out and beg him once you become too simulated.

Haldir loves to toy with you. Although he craves the way your pleasure-filled voice sounds moaning his name, it’s the foreplay and the way he can tease you that he loves the most. Sneaking up on you to hear your surprised sounds and then the way your breath catches at his surprising touches.

Legolas is a lot more playful then his fellow elves and loves the sweet noises you make. He loves to bounce you in his lap and listen to your sweet moans and giggles. He will give you whatever you want because he craves your sweet smile and look of admiration. Loves to feel your soft skin and stare at your pleasure-filled face.

Lindir plays you like a fine instrument, spending hours learning how to make you create certain sounds for him. He uses his fingers, mouth and cock so he can hear all of your sweet sounds. He’s not above begging you to be louder or to sing out for him.

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disasterofastory · 8 months

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Like a tree (Thranduil x Reader)

Like a tree Thranduil x Reader Warnings: drunk and horny Reader

Summary: You drank too much and your husband takes care of you.

You have to fight with every fiber of your body to open your eyes, and when you do, the world is spinning, and you feel dizzy. You need a few seconds to adjust your sight to the dim lights. The first thing you notice is the soft line of Thranduil's jaw and, a moment later, his hair as it falls all over his broad shoulders. Your fingers curl around the collar of his robe, not that you are afraid he would drop you. His strong arms are secure and steady under your back and knee. Warmth radiates from his body, bundling you into his embrace. "Where are we going?" You hum against his chest. Your words are muffled and disoriented. "You, my dear, are going to sleep." "What?" You scoff, wanting to push yourself away from him, but he doesn't even budge. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Oh, I know you are fine," Thranduil laughs. The deep rumble of his chest goes straight to your chest. The deep sound warms your heart. "But I think you drank a bit too much," he continues. "It seems like I have to talk with the guards again to not challenge you anytime soon." "Did I win?" You ask him. "Yes." "Good."

"Hey," you pout, reaching out for your husband when he steps back from you after putting you down on the bed. Your dress is long forgotten on the ground while your nightgown covers your body. The fabric is soft and light, showing off your cleavage and thighs. "Where are you going?" "I'm just going to change my clothes," he laughs at the expression on your face. "I won't go anywhere, I promise." "Oh," you breathe out, a mischievous grin pulls up the corners of your lips. "I can help with that." "I'm sure you could," Thranduil laughs again. He loves the way you look at him even though your eyes are half-closed. Your gaze is heated and full of love as you watch him change his clothes. "I think you shouldn't even bother with clothes," you break the silence again. "And why is that, my wife?" He asks, tugging on the blankets so he can tuck you in. "It's still cold." "Uhm," you groan, turning on your side so you can face him when he lies down next to you. "I can warm you up." Your bare leg slips up on his thighs, brushing his already half-hard cock in the process. Thranduil's muscles tense as he keeps his groan deep in his chest. His large hand lands on your soft skin, stopping your grinding on his erection. "I think we should postpone it, love," he says in a low voice. Your hand is warm on him as your fingers draw small circles on his wide chest. His skin is soft and smooth under your touch. "Why would we do such a thing?" You ask, frowning. "Because I'm drunk? It doesn't matter. I would climb on you like a tree if I were sober too." His laugh comes from deep inside his chest and fills the room with a pleasant rumble. God, you really love his voice. "I love your laugh," you state, creeping closer. "But I love your moans better." "Sleep, Y/N," Thranduil says. His amusement is still clear in his voice. His long fingers curl around your wrist to stop you from slipping inside his pants. "But I'm not that drunk," you argue. "I know," he says, pulling you against his side to be closer to his body. "But I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle." You gasp. "I wouldn't." Thranduil doesn't answer for long minutes as a knowing smirk spreads across his face. When his eyes move up from his hand still on your thigh to your face, he can't help but chuckle again. Your lips are slightly open as you sleep. "Of course not, my love," he hums softly, adjusting you until your head is on his chest and his arms are around you. "We will talk about you climbing me like a tree tomorrow," he adds quietly. His warm breath ghost over your ear, and you hum in agreement.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine

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deadlymistletoe · 9 months

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An Execution

Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

Genre: Angst/comfort

Description: When you’re forced to witness an execution performed by the man you love, Legolas shields you from the sight, but Thranduil still has to reassure you later.

Warnings: Beheading (not graphic), mentions of assault.

Word count: 1148

The man leered at you from where he knelt in the middle of the ring of elves.

You took a breath, averting your gaze to somewhere over his soon-to-be-detached head and failed to notice the worried glance from the elf beside you.

Legolas glanced between you, the human who had his father so smitten, and said father. Truth be told, he didn’t think you should be here. Yes, according to the customs you had to be here, seeing as you were the one the man had attacked, but he could also see the faint tremor in your stance, and he hated that you had to see his father in a light you’d never had to see before.

His father was happy, more than he had been in years, because of you, and Legolas was terrified that this would scare you off once and for all, leaving his father heartbroken once again.

When you’d gone to Dale with Thranduil, the man had taken one look at your close proximity to the king and the adoring gaze he looked at you with and seen his chance at revenge against the elves who’d ‘caused’ his sister's death.

It hadn’t been hard for him to corner you when you got separated from the other elves at the marketplace. You’d been drawn to the stall filled with flowers at the edge of the marketplace and he’d taken his chance, convincing you that he had some rare flowers the stall didn't offer in his wife’s garden. No need to mention that he didn’t have a wife.

After that you were just lucky that Thranduil had sent someone to find you, and the bruises that had quickly formed around your throat and your hysteric state were evidence enough for Bard to agree to hand over the man to the elves' justice system.

Those same bruises still stood out against your skin, your dress doing nothing to cover them up. You shivered, although the air was warm, thoughts racing through your head as the man’s sentencing crime was read out.

Were you about to be responsible for someone’s death? Yes, he was a horrible man, and yes, you’d never asked for his execution, but you hadn’t argued against it either. You’d even felt a sick sort of relief at the decision to end the man's life.

Your breathing picked up and you felt your hands begin to sweat as the gleaming sword was handed to Thranduil, your lover stepping towards the man, whose dark, leering eyes were still on you.

This was his own fault, you knew that, Thranduil had drilled it into your head that nothing was your fault for days afterwards. The law of the elves said that harm or assault towards one of their own was met with execution, and while it warmed your heart that the elves of Mirkwood thought of you as one of them, part of you still felt sick. Felt like you were to blame. You’d followed him, hadn’t you? Left those who were to keep you safe behind without a second thought?

The blade was lined up with the man's throat, the man’s eyes drilled into yours and you couldn’t look away.

The blade was pulled back. It swung forwards.

You let out a gasp as arms wrapped around your shoulders, spinning you around so your face was pressed into a green covered shoulder as the sound of metal swung through the air and a dull thud was heard.

Legolas met his father’s eyes over your head as you trembled against him, and saw the gratitude in his father’s eyes.

Gratitude that you hadn’t had to see this side of him.

When Thranduil entered your shared chambers you were in the same place you had been since you had been escorted back hours before.

You were perched in the middle of the bed, knees pulled to your chest. You startled when he moved into your line of vision and he inwardly winced. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

He paused at the end of the bed, thankful that he’d made sure no blood was left on his robe, before he sat down on the edge, holding out a hand to you.

He held his breath, watching as you eyed his hand, the same hand the sword had swung from, before taking it and moving to sit beside him at the end of the bed.

You were both silent for a moment before he spoke, quietly, as if afraid of startling you. “I’m sorry you had to be there for that.”

“It’s okay.” You murmured. “Legolas made sure I didn’t see it.”

“Yes,” He squeezed your hand. “I thanked him for that.” He hesitated before continuing. “He was worried you would want to leave if you saw me like that.”

“Like what?” You murmured. “Like a king doing his duty?”

Thranduil swallowed. “Like a monster.”

You snapped your head around to look at him. Did he honestly think..?

“No,” You hurried to reassure him. “You're not a monster. You were just…”

“Just what?” His piercing eyes met yours and you were unable to look away. “Just ending somebody’s life without a single ounce of sympathy? Because I don’t regret ending that man’s life. I only regret doing it with you there.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You whispered, falling silent again.

Thranduil sighed, bringing your hand up to his mouth to place a lingering kiss on your knuckles. “That man deserved everything he got. It is not your fault that he chose you to take out his anger on, nor that he got caught.”

You swallowed. “He said… he said that he had a sister… that the elves killed her.”

“I know.” He hummed. “It is not the first time I have seen that man. His sister fell into the enchanted river when they were children sneaking out to explore. Legolas’ patrol found them and pulled her out but it was too late. She drowned and he has blamed us ever since.”

“Oh, that’s horrible.” You whispered, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy.

He looked at you sharply. “That does not excuse his actions towards you. There are elves in this kingdom who have lost family because of humans and yet they do not condemn you for being human, do they?”

You sighed. You knew he was right. You leaned against his side. “I know. I just don’t like feeling responsible for someone’s death.”

He turned to press a kiss to your forehead. “You're not. And I don’t care if it takes years, I will prove it to you in every way possible, until it doesn’t even cross your mind.”

“I love you.” You whispered, not knowing what to say. Never before had someone been this dedicated to your feelings.

“And I love you, you silly human.” He murmured back. “Now let me show you how much.”

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

#imagines #the hobbit #female reader #thranduil #legolas #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #platonic legolas x reader #my writing

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frost-queen · 3 months

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Lady of Mirkwood | (Reader x Thranduil)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22@elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

| Meeting Thranduil

You met Thranduil when the Third age progressed. It was when the Necromancer unknown then but known as Sauron later on claimed the abandoned fortress of Amon Lanc to make it into Dol Guldur. Sauron infected the woods with spiders and orcs. The spiders and the orcs expended their reach claiming more and more for them. Infecting the very nature with their filth and death.

All the elves were forced to leave the woods. Those who fought back were brought down. Countless of lost elves filled the sickening woods. You were amongst some elves that were fleeing. The orcs had increased their stench to the part of the woods where you lived. With a few douzen you were. Fleeing for your lives as the orcs hunted you down. The woods had grown iller. Spider cobs were not too much yet in these parts. But a few spiders having expended their webs out to your lands.

Some elves wanted to stay and fight. They barely lasted long as the pack of orcs were too many. Sweeping them down in a matter of seconds. The others fled as fast as they could. Hatred, anger and sorrow grieving your hearts. You were running trying to stay out of the orcs clutches. The orcs attack made you stumble, dropping to the ground. Surrounded by death and darkness. You thought it was over. You thought you were never going to see the undying lands, but then a bright light appeared between the trees. The illumination blinded the orcs sending them back a bit. The light faded as you could see a small group of elves charge for battle. Lead by a High elf.

The orcs never stood a chance. The High elf approached you, helping you up your feet. The moment his eyes met with his, he was struck. Gasping breathlessly at your grace and beauty. The woods no longer having a place for you, he took you in. Thranduil his name was. King of the woodland realm.

| Life at the woodland realm

Thranduil was smitten with you. For the first time in many ages, the so cocky king found beauty in another. He threated you like a guest with the highest honor. Quarters close to his. Thranduil would host parties just to have an excuse to dance with you. He never let any other elf near you. He wanted you for himself. You sometimes dared to tease Thranduil by speaking to other elves, just to see his reaction. You loved how easily jealous he was. He would come over, pull you gently behind him while urging them in a polite way to leave. Sometimes he would lay his robe over your shoulder to hint to others that you were his.

Underneath the moonlight on a summer's day was when you had your first kiss with Thranduil. Forever giving yourself to one another. He married you a month later never wanted to be parted from you ever again. You became queen of the woodland realm. All the elves present adored you for your righteousness and kind heart. Whenever Thranduil dared to lose his temper, you were there to calm him down. Sometimes you would come along with Thranduil and his army in an attempt to reclaim your woods. When Thranduil saw his numbers dim and almost losing you in a battle, he gave up. Not wanting to see his people be slaughtered or see you in danger. For he could not afford to lose you, his brightest star.

| Legolas

Legolas was born with grace. You loved every little detail of him. Thranduil would be careful at first. For he feared to hold such a fragile creature. He feared he might harm it in any way. You would show him he could do no harm. Taking his hand and bringing it up to Legolas for him to touch. His fingers would brush against his cheek making Legolas flutter a laugh. On that Thranduil was sold. Taking his son in his arms and care deeply for him.

As Legolas grew older, Thranduil insisted he had his features from you. Everything about Legolas reminded him of you. With the coming of Legolas was Thranduil more careful. You were no longer aloud out of the woodland realm. Not wanting anything to happen to you or Legolas. You had to admit it felt a bit lonely being unable to see the old woods. Your home that you missed dearly. With each year it grew colder and deader. Plagued by orcs and spiders. Since you had no where else to go, you focused more on Legolas. Teaching him how to defend himself. It was you who introduced Legolas to the bow and arrow. When Legolas was old enough to have his own bow, he would name it after you.

———————————————

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cambion-companion · 1 year

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Hugging the Elves (blorbos)

Elrond ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Elrond is a healer, of both body and heart. His home of Rivendell is where those blessed enough to gain entry find refuge for their spirit. Elrond would hug like a father comforting his child, he would wrap you into a secure embrace. He smells like familiar spices and fresh warm cloth as you bury your head against his shoulder. The long sleeves of his robes wrap around your body and offer solace under their weight. He will smile down at you gently, a fond crinkling around his eyes full of wisdom and starlight.

Glorfindel

Sunshine incarnate, Glorfindel's hugs are enthusiastic and don't be surprised if he lifts you into his arms and twirls you around once or twice, especially if he has been on errantry and not seen you for a while. His long golden hair would get in both your faces and he would laugh, bell-like, as he gently brushes it away. He smells of a fresh summer breeze carrying the light scents of flowers and evergreen trees as you press your cheek to his chest. I also see him as being fond of taking your face in his hands, enjoying looking into your eyes and reading your emotions there. When you are in need of comfort be assured Glorfindel will always be ready to offer you a warm embrace as you bask in his glowing presence. His very touch is enough to chase away any creeping darkness from your mind. (yes I am madly in love with him can you not tell)

Arwen

Arwen doesn't hug very many people, so when she opens her arms to you it is a gift indeed. She smells of lilac and midsummer nights spent by the lake under the stars. Her hair is as soft as goose-down and the gossamer of her sleeves slips between your fingers. She holds the back of your head lightly as you lean against her, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of her chin tucked against your head. Arwen will also peer into your eyes, as they are windows to your soul, and give you a soft understanding smile before engaging you in light conversation and laughter.

Thranduil

(as a brief aside, I do not at all like the characterization of Thranduil in the movies as they turned him into King Thingol of Doriath who is much different in temperament. thus, this will be based on his book self)

Thranduil is regal and guarded, yet he has a warmth about him you have grown accustomed to receiving from the Elves. Like Arwen he does not embrace others readily, but will receive your affection with a broad smile and happy chuckle. His hands placed securely on your upper back as you lean against him, breathing in his scent of juniper berries and pine. This hug will be brief but meaningful and leave you feeling elated and refreshed. He will then invite you to dine with them and perhaps accompany his folk into the forest to dance and frolic to the sound of harpists and singing.

Legolas

Legolas is full of laughter and wit and will accept your hug with joy, squeezing you tight against him as he ruffles your hair about in an affectionate manner. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale the smell of leather and woodsmoke. He will hold you against him for as long as you wish, even rocking you side to side if you remain in his arms for long. When you do pull away Legolas will grasp your forearms and beam at you, making a witty comment, his countenance brightening when you laugh.

Finrod

(Yes, I have to include this golden boy)

The first among Elves to befriend humans, even the first to see them, Finrod has a special place in his heart for his mortal friends. He loves giving and receiving hugs and will wrap you in his arms readily and with reverence. His golden hair tickles your face and he laughs, looking down at you as you scrunch your nose at the sensation. Finrod smells of the ocean winds that form the waves and the carpet of moss that covers forest floors. He is Valinor mixed with Middle Earth, belonging to both and yet neither. There is a sadness to his grip as he brushes a stray hair from your face after you pull away. But as ever with his kin the sadness in his eyes swiftly turns over to mirth and he takes your hand before pulling you along with him to your next adventure.

let me know who else I should write these for!

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

Note

Hey can i ask Thranduil and (human) f!reader smut? When f!reader can't stare at his eyes because she's very shy and insecure with her expression during *cough cough* Thank you!

I'm sorry about that one with Thranduil x f!reader cant-stare-at-his-face that i didn't addresed my 'smut rating'? Anyway🔥🔥

It's all good. Time for some more Thranduil smut. Because it's Thranduil. And smut. I'll stop now.

"The looking glass"

✵Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Human / Second person POV)

✵Themes: Smut / Soft

✵Word count: 1.3k words

✵Summary: Thranduil comes up with a unique "solution" when he realises how shy his partner is in bed.

✵Rating: 🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

If you liked this, please consider reblogging it.

Thranduil gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. "Sweet starlight, why do you turn your face from me?"

You said nothing, your cheeks merely burning with embarrassment. Thranduil’s question should have surprised you, but it did not. Whenever you shared pleasures with the king, he would want to look into your eyes, and you would inevitably close them and turn away. Before this night, he did not ask why you did it, and now? Now he wanted some sort of explanation.

Of course, you had an explanation, just one, but that embarrassed you even more.

"Starlight?" Thranduil was not about to let this go. "Why do you look away?"

You hummed quietly and sat up, flushing when the king sat up with you. "I… umm… that is…" you stumbled over your words, your tongue tied up in knots. Thranduil studied you with barely disguised curiosity while you fidgeted with the hem of your robe. "The thing is… I…" you buried your face in your hands and sighed. "I am not sure you would like how I look when we… when we…"

Understanding dawned, and Thranduil smiled when he heard a muffled scream. "Starlight," he pulled your hands away from your face. "Is that what troubles you? That I might be repulsed by the expressions you make when making love?"

You nodded meekly, still too embarrassed to face him. Thranduil kept smiling and looked around, his gaze skimming over the chamber before it rested on something that caught his eye and piqued his interest—something that gave him an idea. "Stay here," he said, and rose out of bed.

You raise your head, wondering what he was up to. The answer presented itself soon enough with the sound of wood creaking. Thranduil had hefted a large silvered-looking glass, one that was taller than him, and brought it over, placing it at the foot of the bed with a soft thud.

"There," he huffed, dusting his hands before joining you in bed. "That should do nicely."

You studied your reflection in the shimmering glass and gulped. "Do nicely for what, my love?"

Thranduil smiled—a slow, wicked smile—before making himself comfortable next to you. "I want you to see, starlight," he breathed huskily, and he helped you to your knees, his arm around your waist. "I want you to see that there is nothing for you to hide. I want you to see how much I enjoy seeing you while I pleasure you—that there is nothing for you to be shamed by. Now, will you permit me to go further?"

The very idea of it—watching him in the reflection of that looking glass while he pleasured you—was just so shocking, so very sinful, and more than a little daunting. It made you nervous to watch him like this, to have him look up and watch you; you were unsure you could do it. Still, you could not keep averting your gaze every night, so you came to a decision and nodded. "Yes. You can go further."

Thranduil’s eyes blazed in the dim candlelight, his hands reaching over to your robe. You felt it—the heat of his breath against the nape of your neck when he moved slightly behind you, the warmth of his hands that radiated through your silks. And you kept still, so very still, your gaze fixed on the looking glass.

The king took his time, untying the belt of your robe and drawing it away, exposing what lay beneath. "You look like a painting, starlight," he murmured, his hands sliding over to your belly. "Your body is so perfect, like you had stepped out of a vision."

Helpless and stunned, you continued to keep still, unable to tear your eyes away from what you were witnessing in the looking glass. Thranduil’s hand moved up, over to your breasts, running his fingers over your nipples over and over again until they started to throb and ache, and harden beneath his touch.

"Do you see it, starlight, how your body trembles?" Thranduil whispered, his touch persistent and demanding.

Flushed and breathless, you did indeed see it—how the muscles of your belly fluttered, how your entire body quivered. And there was Thranduil, his eyes darkening with lust, the need in his gaze matching the growing desire in yours. You felt it, growing prickles of pleasure all over your body, heat slowly pooling at your core. You blushed and instinctively tried to look away, but Thranduil caught it.

"Look into the looking glass, starlight," he crooned, his hand gliding down to the apex of your thighs. "And focus on me. I want you to see how high I could take you."

You raised your eyes and found his locked on yours. Embarrassment slowly morphed into something else, something dark and primal, when he moved his hand over to your slit and found it already hot and wet. His fingers moved in a slow, delicate rhythm, and his name parted your lips in almost a sob. You still couldn’t look away, not when he possessed you the way he did. Your body started to move against him; your hands moved to rest over his, and his groan, guttural and harsh, felt so sweet to your ears.

"That is it, starlight," he rasped, his voice already roughened, when your first moan spilled free. "Show me how much you desire this."

Thranduil watched, utterly spellbound, as you came undone in front of him, how you sagged into him, your moans and mewls slowly turning to pleas. Pleas for more, pleas for him to go faster, to take you higher. He wanted to incite and inflame, to break down your walls, and he was amply rewarded when your hands pressed over his, to guide him. He slid a finger inside the warmth of your sex, then another, moving them inside you, slowly growing drunk on your needy moans.

"Th-thranduil," you whimpered shakily, all sense of shame now long forgotten. The sight of the woman in that looking glass, her body yielding to pleasure of the acutest kind, her eyes darkening with each deft stroke, was too beautifully erotic, and you took great pleasure in seeing it—how he pleasured you, how he took you higher and higher, like he promised.

"Do you see, sweet starlight?" Thranduil cooed sweetly, "Do you see you have nothing to hide? How much I delight in seeing you this way?"

How true he was, and how foolish you felt. And how Thranduil looked on, with lust-filled eyes, as if he were feasting on what he was seeing. "I do see," you breathed, harsh and ragged, the muscles in your belly coiling as your release neared.

"Keep looking, starlight," Thranduil ran his tongue over your neck even as you trembled and he felt a tightening around his fingers. You were close, so very close. "See how beautiful you are even now."

And you looked on with heavy-lidded eyes as a wave of bliss rose higher and higher, as a sweet, delightful pressure grew stronger and stronger, unceasing, until it felt like your body splintered, and Thranduil’s name came out like a desperate, wanton cry. Your entire body shook against his as you slumped into him, your breath coming out in shallow pants. Thranduil held onto you, moaning softly as your walls contracted around his fingers, pulling them deeper. His gaze cut to the looking glass and found you, looking right back at him, your lips curling into a deep and satisfied smile.

"You were right," you murmured, your hands still over his. You turned to the side and found his lips just over yours. "There was nothing for me to be shamed by."

Thranduil leaned in and kissed you, his body humming with unsated need. "Absolutely nothing," he said, before helping you lay back in bed. "And now, starlight, I hope you will indulge me, by letting me make incredibly thorough love to you this night."

No longer plagued by your fears, you smiled and welcomed him into his arms.

Tags: @shrasdust | @asianbutnotjapanese | @nupppuff | @ryantryan6969 | @lemonivall

#thranduil imagine #thranduil smut #Thranduil #thranduil x reader #x reader #x reader insert #reader inserts #reader insert request #the hobbit imagine #The hobbit #the hobbit x reader #writeblr #💫a world of whimsy writes

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emmyspov · 1 year

Text

Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)

author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷

warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷

word count: 1.9k

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.

His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.

So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.

You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.

Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.

However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.

How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.

Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.

Today was no different.

You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.

There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.

You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.

By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.

Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.

A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.

It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.

He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.

After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.

"Oh, meleth."

With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.

"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"

Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.

Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.

He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.

You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.

Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.

"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."

And Thranduil kept his word.

He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.

It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.

After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.

"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"

With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.

"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."

You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.

"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."

The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."

"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."

Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.

"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"

You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"

Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."

With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.

He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.

"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."

You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.

The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.

You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."

"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"

Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"

The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"

You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"

Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.

With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.

"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.

"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."

Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.

He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.

"I'm the lucky one."

You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."

The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."

You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."

A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"

You nodded. "I think I do."

Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."

A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."

Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.

"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.

Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.

The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.

And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.

You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.

"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."

Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard

-> if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, just shoot me a message or an ask 🩷

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x y/n #thranduil imagine #elvenking #king of the woodland realm #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #tolkien #elves #mirkwood #reader insert #please don't hate me for writing him ooc #and for making grammar and spelling mistakes #god why am i so nervous to post this #i'll probably throw my phone away after clicking post now

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multific · 8 months

Text

Whatever the Queen Wants

Thranduil x Reader

Summary: On a boring day you have time to walk around, and recall different memories from your past.

You loved taking walks in the woods and your gardens.

Seeing your kingdom bloom and glow just did something to you, it was special.

Spring was your favourite season. Seeing new life everywhere around you made you want to be a mother once again.

You could still recall when your son was born.

Legolas became the center of your world in a simple moment. As soon as the midwife-elf placed him in your arms, it was over.

Both for you and for your husband.

He was the cutest little elfling you have ever seen. Looked just like your husband but behaved just like you.

Even when he was little, you took him out to the gardens on walks, showing him the world. Every single time you looked at all the different rose bushes or hydrangeas all you could see was him as a little elf let's elfling playing amongst them, you just wished you had something to capture that moment with so you would be able to show it to your husband.

Now Legolas was a fully grown up elf, who was more interested in all the different kinds of fighting styles than nature, and also your husband did sometimes had time to spend with you right now he was too busy with his kingly duties, so you were left alone to walk the woods and your gardens.

And that is exactly what you were doing that day. You woke up and somehow amazingly sunny it was that day, so you made your way out to your favorite place in the garden. Your favorite place was where there were these huge hydrangea bushes, all different colors and shapes and sizes you loved every single one of them.

That part of the garden was a present from your husband to you as an anniversary gift. Since he knew how much you adored flowers, he added every single flower that she liked to the garden just to please you.

There were different statues as well in the garden, all of them beautiful.

You left out a long side on your way to your favorite bench. If only you could have the two men who meant so much to you there with you.

You felt so lonely at that moment, it might sound arrogant to some people that the queen was complaining but you really were rather sad that you had to spend such a nice day all alone although you did enjoy every second of it and you did make the best of it, but you still missed both of your boys.

Maybe that's why the idea of having another child was so inviting to you, then you would have finally someone who would need your attention all day long and they would give your attention all day long as well before they grow up. You missed that, you missed having someone who relied on you so much. Legolas it's already too old for him need you in such a way. Even If he did sometimes come over to you asking for your advice it wasn't the same.

When you tried to hint a new baby to your husband but he was too oblivious for your tries or he simply didn’t want to tell you that he did not want another child.

So, you didn’t bring the topic up after that. Although, it did hurt a little bit, you were happy with your life. Even if you felt lonely at times like this, you were happy.

“Naneth,” you heard someone say.

“Oh, Legolas. What are you doing here?” you asked as your son came over to you and sat down next to you.

“You looked lonely, Mother. So, I came to keep you company. Is Father still in a meeting?”

You offered him a kind smile, it warmed your heart that he thought about you.

“He is. But you don’t have to be here, I am not lonely, I have my flowers, you should practice.”

“Nonsense. No training or practice is more important than you, Naneth.”

“Thank you. How was your day?” he always loved to show or talk to you about his training. Ever since he was little he was a quick learner.

“Really good…” then he went on and on about his day. Telling you everything about swords, bows and more.

If you were honest you never truly understood everything he said or referred to but you still listened with a smile. Seeing him be so interested and happy about something warmed your heart.

You listened to everything he had to say. Every single word.

You saw so much of your husband in him. But you were there as well. You still couldn’t believe that you had the privilege to be the mother of this exceptional elf.

“Adar!” said Legolas out of nowhere which made you look the way he was looking. And you saw your husband, walking towards the two of you.

“Nin hén, Nin mel, what are you two doing out here in such an hour?” you failed to notice that the sun started to go down.

“Mother was lonely so I came over to give her some company.” replied Legolas as Thranduil joined you.

“It is getting late, it would be best if we all headed to rest.” you said and both of them agreed. Thranduil guided you towards your chambers after you said your goodbyes to your son.

“We have a wonderful child.” he said as you laid down in bed.

“Indeed, I cannot believe he is so big, I feel like I can still recall holding him as a young elfling.” you let out a long sigh at the happy memory as you felt your husband’s arms move you towards him. “I have been thinking, Nin mel.”

“About?”

“Another child.” Thranduil almost jumped up as you said that.

“A-another?”

“I have been feeling lonely with Legolas leaving us so frequently and with you being in meetings all day. I always wanted a daughter as well, you know that.”

“I do. I know it.”

“It was a silly idea.” you said after his long silence. “Forget it, Thranduil. I’ll be fine.”

“We can have another child. I’m only thinking of ways to ensure it would be a girl.” his confession nearly made you choke on air, then you smiled.

“No need. I would be happy with a boy as well.” you said as you pulled him closer and kissed him.

Thranduil knew, whatever the Queen of Mirkwood wanted, she got it.

Translation:

Naneth – Mother

Adar – Father

Nin hén – My child

Nin mel - My love

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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elfy-elf-imagines · 8 months

Text

To Meet Under the Stars | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff

▹ Words: ~3k

▹ Summary: In light of the stars, Thranduil finds himself entirely enchanted by a mysterious masked woman.

▹ Notes: I love masquerade balls, that is all. Unedited because we die as men.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The light of starlight was something sacred to the elves.

In the times of old, before the moon and sun had been created, Varda placed the stars in the sky, illuminating the world for the elves to see. For all other races, stars were just light that guided their way at night, but they were so much more for the elves. They held the promise of life unsullied by the evil of Morgoth. A beautiful display of glistening diamonds that held the light of creation. To honor the stars was to honor Varda herself.

Under the canopy of stars, the wood elves of Eryn Galen celebrated the first night of the autumn equinox. The moon was full and high in the sky as lords, ladies, and commoners alike gathered for the party. The echo of minstrels ensured there would be no corner of the kingdom not lit with joy. Dragonflies darted across ponds, and crickets hid in the forest, chirping to the beat of the lute. There were festivities all throughout the kingdom, but the main attraction was the masquerade ball held within the palace of King Thranduil. Only guests of high esteem were invited to dance under the lush canopy in the company of the royal family.

And there you were, with summer in your hair and winter in your eyes. Dancing through the crowd, illuminated in the silver light of the moon, you were the vision of a goddess. A soft halo shone upon your silver-gold hair, pinned in an updo with stray pieces that cascaded down your back. Flowers in purple, blue, and silver hues were placed upon your head like a crown, creating the silhouette of a queen. A silver mask encrusted with enough jewels that it glittered under the light concealed the top half of your face, two holes allowing your eyes to glow in the dark. A grin born of pure ecstasy was outlined by the lipstick on your lips.

No one could recall who you were nor when you’d arrived at the celebration. It was as if you were always there, lying in wait and dancing with the ghosts of the open-roof ballroom. A laugh rivaling the minstrels' songs hung in the air where you stood and followed your every sweeping move.

From the high table, with a glass of wine precariously hanging in his hand, Thranduil watched you. He couldn’t help it. It was as if you were weaving some sort of spell, casting it upon all who watched, paralyzed by your song and enraptured by your dance. You were beautiful, quick as a whip, and light as a feather. Each step seemed calculated and purposeful, yet so loose it could only be natural.

Thranduil couldn’t recall ever meeting you, so certain he’d know your laugh even if he couldn’t see your face. His advisors tried to make idle conversation as Legolas spent his time with the other members of the guard, drinking and laughing. Thranduil couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to listen, intently focused on the way your summer blue dress flowed like water around you. It nearly felt sacrilegious to directly look at something so beautiful, like staring at the face of Varda herself.

“It is a beautiful--” his advisor beside him began to speak, talking so slowly it made Thranduil’s lips curl in slight irritation that was hidden by the goblet he held. He watched as you threw your head back in laughter, finding amusement in whatever the elf lord you were speaking with said. It took all his willpower not to roll his eyes as he drank more sweet wine.

The elf lord offered you his hand, which you gracefully accepted. Instead of dancing through the crowds alone, you twirled in the arms of another man. It made Thranduil’s stomach turn in a way it hadn’t for centuries.

You and the elf lord you danced with would flit in and out of his vision, yet the merriment never left your expression, and when the face of your dance partner would face Thranduil, he could see just how enchanted the man was by you. His grip on the goblet tightened, knuckles turning white.

The song seemed endless, drawing out the end of it for as long as possible. Part of Thranduil was tempted to bark at the minstrels to begin a new one in hopes you would once again be left alone, but he didn’t. A king needed to maintain his composure, even if everything inside was screaming not to. It seemed silly to be so taken by a woman whose face he couldn’t even see.

“Have you tried one of these cakes yet? They’re quite--”

“Galion.” Thranduil interrupted the man previously speaking, gaining the attention of his butler. The advisor that had been interrupted scowled yet said nothing else as Galion stepped closer to Thranduil.

“Yes, my king.”

Thranduil pointed at you, Galion’s eyes following his finger. “Who is that?”

His eyes narrowed as Galion leaned closer to try and get a better look at you. Yet not a glint of recognition twinkled in his eyes. Did anyone here know who you were?

“I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with who she is. Would you like me to fetch her, my king?” Galion asked, his attention returned to Thranduil, whose eyes furrowed in mild annoyance.

“That will not be necessary, Galion.” He waved his hand, and Galion returned to his previous seat. It would be easy to bring you to him, he was the king, after all, but he didn’t want your meeting with him to seem forced upon you. He already had enough of a reputation as a cold, unfeeling man; it wouldn’t do any good to give you a reason to believe them.

The song ended, and you stepped away from your partner, lowering into a curtsey that he returned with a bow. Thranduil stood, the legs of his chair scraping on the floor; he didn’t bother giving a weak excuse for his exit. If he doesn't act soon, you might slip from his fingers. Thranduil took long strides down the platform and disappeared into the sea of elves.

He pushed his way through the crowd, most too lost in the magic of the music to pay their king any mind. He could see you, dancing alone with your eyes shut. The grin on your face was wide, never wavering in the slightest. The distance separating him from you was dwindling, the anticipation making his palm sweaty. The crowd parted, and he could’ve pulled you into his arms if he wanted to.

But as he opened his mouth, you disappeared into the crowd, so preoccupied you never saw him coming. Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, his misty eyes searching the crowd for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. Had you merely been a figment of his imagination conjured by the trickster spirits rumored to hide in his forest? Perhaps you had been, but Thranduil was determined to comb through the crowd hoping to see you again.

Then, a flit of blue brightened the corner of his eye. He turned, seeing you dart from dance partner to dance partner, now on the other end of the room. A cat-like grin appeared on the edges of his mouth; he’d found you. Once more, he pushed through the crowd, not moving his eyes from you for one second, afraid you’d disappear without a trace if he did.

The crowd would pulse, and you would get closer to him before suddenly spreading out towards the treeline. Thranduil would get close enough to smell your floral perfume, but you'd dart in another direction before he could take your delicate hands in his. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was on purpose; you probably hadn’t even noticed him. Your eyes never locked with his that never strayed from you.

But the gods seemed to smile upon him that night, and as the crowd came closer, Thranduil snatched your hand. Your body twisted to face him, the grin on your face never faltering. The perfume you wore was distinctly jasmine, vanilla, and something sweeter, tantalizing enough to bring him closer to you. His hand was rough in comparison to yours, much larger too.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” His voice was velvet smooth. Thranduil stood out like a sore thumb as the only one in the crowd without a mask.

“You may, my king,” you curtsied before placing your other hand on his shoulder as his hand found its place on your waist. Wasting no time, the two of you twisted and spun through the crowd in an airy waltz. You had the grace of a swan, maintaining a poised elegance with a child-like grin. Thranduil felt himself falling deeper into whatever spell you had cast.

A witch, that’s what you had to be. There was no other explanation for the hammering of his heart or the delight your touch elicited.

One step back, one step forward, one to the side, and repeat. Another spin, extra flourish added for flavor, and the movements continued. Neither of you spoke, eye to eye, unable to look away from one another. Thranduil found himself counting the flecks in your eyes, convinced they held a thousand little stars in them.

Perhaps you hadn’t been an illusion placed to taunt him but a gift from the Valar themselves.

All too soon, the song ended, and the dance was finished. As he watched you do before, you stepped back from Thranduil and lowered into a sweeping curtsey. He wanted to ask you to stay with him, not only for the night but the rest of eternity, but he found himself tongue-tied.

“It was an honor to dance with you, my king.” Your voice was soft and warm, like the spiced tea he would drink before bed. He wanted your name, to lift the mask you wore and lay his eyes upon your face entirely. He needed to see the face of the woman that would surely haunt his every dream.

Thranduil blinked, and in the brief time, his eyes weren’t on you, you’d disappeared. He half expected for there to be stardust left where your feet had been, but the only proof you’d existed was the imprint of your heels in the grass. His eyes scanned the crowd, twisting his body and craning his head, yet you were nowhere to be seen. But this time, instead of seeing flashes of your dress or silver hair, you were nowhere to be seen. You’d disappeared entirely.

Thranduil stood in the crowd a moment longer, hoping for a glimpse of you before deciding to return to his seat at the table. Perhaps from the high crowd, he could ascertain where you were. Thranduil returned to his seat, acting as if he hadn’t suddenly rushed from the table to dance with you, ignoring the questioning glances from his advisors. His goblet of wine in hand, eyes on the crowd, Thranduil sunk into the music and lost himself in thought. All of them were plagued by you.

And there he stayed as the hours ticked by, seemingly in a trance. No one at the table bothered to strike up a conversation with Thranduil anymore; it was like trying to converse with a brick wall. So they settled in silence, occasionally remarking about the party with the other guests.

“My king,” Galion returned to his side. “The lady you danced with has stepped away to the gardens.” Galion’s tone was even as if he were merely commenting on the weather. Thranduil side-eyed him, noticing the tinge of mirth on Galion’s smile. Thranduil tilted his head to the side, then slowly nodded.

“Perhaps I should ensure our guest is enjoying the festivities.”

Thranduil stepped away from the table and followed the path toward the garden’s you just slipped into. He took long strides to reunite with you sooner. This time he was determined to get your name and to peek beneath the mask you wore.

When he finally stepped into the garden, he saw your back turned to him, fingers dipped in the fountain's water. Your posture was relaxed, hair loose and flowing, no longer pinned in the updo it once was. It flowed like liquid silver, furthering his conspiracy that you were a celestial being born of the gods. Precariously hanging in your hand was the mask you’d been wearing, thumbs rubbing against the ribbon that tied it in your hair. The minstrels were now a distant hum, the flowing water, and the chirp of crickets the only song in the gardens.

He stopped a few steps from you, trying to find the words to say. It’d been so long since he’d been made to feel like a shy elfling, nervous about approaching his first crush. A king should be dignified and confident, but he felt all of that crumble in your presence.

Your ears twitched as Thranduil shifted in his spot, head raising at the sudden intrusion. Slowly, you turned, unsure who to expect would intrude upon your solitude. But of all the people you imagined stepping into the garden, you never anticipated it would be the king. He nearly seemed awkward and unsure in his place, fingers smoothing wrinkles on his robes that weren’t there.

Immediately you lowered into a curtsey, but the king didn’t acknowledge the movement. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. As he looked upon your face, this must’ve been how the first elf to gaze upon the stars felt. The curves and lines of your face were soft and delicate, the vision of beauty. Your eyes seemed even brighter in the dim lighting, an unsure, shy smile curling on your lips.

“My king.”

He remained silent, too wonderstruck to speak.

“If you require to be alone, I can--” You began to walk towards the exit, but as you passed Thranduil, his hand reached out and caught your arm. You turned to face him, uncertain. Thranduil’s hand trailed down your arm and intertwined with yours, a soft smile on his lips.

“Of all the people who desire my presence, yours is the one I desire most.”

You swallowed thickly, your mouth suddenly dry. You’d been close to the king only hours ago, sharing a dance with him. Yet the privacy of the gardens and the sweetness of his words, it all felt much more intimate.

“Then I shall stay.”

Thranduil’s grin widened as he guided you further into the gardens. The flowers were vibrant and lush, a true testament to the skills of the elves. A canopy of trees diffused the moon's light, reflecting off the fountain and casting a spotlight on you.

“I have a confession.” Thranduil suddenly stopped, eyes intently watching your face, noticing how your lips slightly parted and your eyes glowed with curiosity. “I have found myself quite enchanted with you, my lady. It seems foolish, not knowing your face until this moment and not having your name.”

“It’s Y/N, my king.” You interrupted, a charming smile curling your lips. The hammer of your heart matched the tempo with Thranduil’s.

“Y/N.” He muttered your name quietly, your name on his lips making your stomach curl. Of all the ways you anticipated this night's end, strolling the garden with the king was not what you could’ve predicted in your wildest dreams.

“Y/N. If I may be so bold, I would like for this to not be the last time we meet. I desire more of your company.”

Thranduil stepped closer, the heat he radiated warming your chilled skin. Gossebumnps followed where his hands touched, a shiver rushing down your spine. Subtly you pinched the back of your leg, convinced this was nothing more than a dream. Yet you didn’t wake; this moment was real.

“If I may speak freely, my king?”

Thranduil nodded his head. “Please, you may call me Thranduil. No need for such formalities.”

You tipped your head at him as the smile on your face brightened.

“If I may speak freely, Thranduil.” You corrected, with an almost mischievous lilt to your voice. “I would much desire more of your company as well. I have heard many rumors of your cold and detached demeanor. I’ve heard of how harsh you can be, yet I have seen nothing of that.”

“I’m glad the whispers of the court haven’t scared you away, my lady.”

The smile on your face curled into a teasing smirk, eyes illuminating. “You’ll find it’ll take more than malicious rumors to scare me away.”

Thranduil's finger twirled around a lock of hair that framed your face. He seemed relaxed and more at ease than you'd have imagined.

"A strong will and a fair face, Varda herself must've crafted you."

His words made your face flush red, so deep it was seen in the dim lighting of the garden.

"Pretty words you speak, my king; I'm eager to learn if your words match your heart."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 27 days

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The Kiss- Thranduil x Modern!Reader

Summary: Reader surprises Thranduil with a kiss

Word count: 1, 398

Bare feet slap against the cool stone as you run freely, and perhaps drunkenly, away from the regal Mirkwood party. The elvish party wasn’t boring per say, but with the strong wine in your system and being used to different types of parties, you suddenly felt crowded in the large ballroom and needed to feel the cool air on your skin and in your lungs.

You knew your destination, as you’d been shown it only a few days previous. It was a gorgeous fountain still close enough to the party to hear the music but far enough that you most likely won’t be interrupted.

Being by yourself and hearing the pleasant music, you couldn’t help but dance around the fountain. Barefoot, drunk and not a care in the world, you began to prance around, freely and happily. You’re sure you look like a beautiful and elegant sight, but to the approaching king, you appear more like a joyful child.

Thranduil had looked around the ballroom and was disappointed to find you had vanished. Leaving the party, he was furious to have to go and find you, that you’d left alone and unsupervised. You’d arrived three months previous from a strange world and the king had taken it upon himself to house you here and care for you.

Spotting you at the fountain, he’d planned on scolding you, as he’d done with a young Legolas many times, but seeing you more happy and free then he’d seen honestly anyone in a long time, his rage seemed to vanish.

Smirking to himself he decided to sit on one of the benches and wait and see if you’d spot him. You’d gone around three times before he decided to announce himself.

“Having fun are we?” He interrupted your joy.

Whipping around caused you to because a little more wobbly but you could still make out the scowl of the king. Normally this would make you anxious, but with the alcohol in your system, you couldn’t help but just simply see him as beautiful. You’d managed to be polite your whole stay in Mirkwood so far, but how handsome the king was definitely didn’t escape your knowledge.

Seeing him sitting on a simple stone bench, his tall stature and powerful presence made the simple seat look more like a thrown. He just looked so perfect sitting there with his blank face and long legs spread wide, you couldn’t help the way your body tingled and your mind turned perhaps a little cheeky.

“Well I’m having a lot more fun now you’re here, your highness.” You drunkenly smirk at him as you saunter over to him, standing in between his spread legs.

Your eyes and hands couldn’t seem to stay still, and you found yourself staring all over his face and lightly running your fingers through his lovely white hair. In return Thranduil found himself staring back at you, watching your movements with intrigue.

The elvish king couldn’t keep his eyes from you and was surprised that he wasn’t mad at you or insulted. Even as your hands cupped along his cheeks and you leaned in and planted a sweet kiss to his lips, he still was not mad.

Your lips were soft and your kiss sweet. A part of him wanted to push you away, but a stronger part wanted more. That stronger part won as his eyes began to close, and he found himself leaning closer into your kiss.

As quickly as the kiss began, it was over. As you part from one another you both find each others gaze. Thranduils eyes are filled with confusion and wonder, whereas yours are glazed and a stupid and giddy smile on your face.

“You’re pretty, like a pretty princess.” You giggle at the king as your fingers card through his hair once again.

Thranduils kingly demeanour is broken and he finds himself chuckling at your drunken compliment.

“I think it’s time to get you to bed, small one.” He smirks at you as he stands from the bench.

“Oh yeh, you gonna take me to bed?” You flirt stupidly as your eyes begin to close, resting in his arms and against his chest, as he carry’s you. Another chuckle leaves the king as he begins to walk you to your bedroom.

The walk to your room is quiet as you fall asleep also immediately. Once in your room, Thranduil tucks you snuggly into bed. Looking down at your sweet sleeping form, he can’t help but stare at you lovingly.

He should turn away and leave you be, but doesn’t, instead he sits at your bedside for a moment, stroking your cheek and staring at your peaceful face.

“How have you managed to affect me so?” He whispers down to your deaf ears

*****

When you awoke the next day, you were surprised that although you were groggy, you were not hungover. Opening your eyes, you take in your surroundings and are confused at the many layers over your legs. You notice you are still wearing the gown from last night and suddenly it comes back to you, the kiss, you kissed Thranduil. Panic begins to set in as you lay there in worry.

Before you could spend too much time on the situation however, you heard a knock at your door and your name called.

“Come in.” You quickly blurt out.

Letting out a sigh, you notice that it is just one of the maids bringing you what looks like lunch.

“Seems you needed quite the sleep after last nights festivities, my lady. You have missed breakfast, but King Thranduil asked me to bring you lunch.”

If he asked to bring you lunch then maybe he wasn’t too mad at you, hopefully.

“Thank you.” You reply quietly as she places your meal beside you on a small table.

“You’re most welcome. The king has also asked for you to meet him in the garden.”

“Do you know why?” You ask anxiously.

“I’m not sure, my lady, but he did not appear upset with you. Once you’re finished with your meal, I will return and help you dress.” She explains as she exits with a nod.

Returning her nod, your mind begins to race with curiosity. So he wasn’t mad, or maybe he was just staying calm for now. You ate your food quickly, wanting to get the interaction over with.

Soon after finishing your meal, you were dressed in a simple purple dress that flowed to your ankles, with sleeve that came past your wrists. You were walked to the gate of Thranduils private garden, but left to enter alone.

Your heart raced as you walked closer to where he stood, nervously you played with your sleeves as you tried to keep your lunch in your stomach. As Thranduil noticed you approaching, you were surprised to see he had a faint smile on his lips.

“I trust you slept well.” He chuckled to you, as you stood before him.

“I always sleep well after a night of drinking, dancing and…. Possibly embarrassing myself.” You shyly confess, your head downcast in shame.

Feeling a delicate touch of fingers under your chin, you found your eyes meeting Thranduils. He looked at you so kindly and what you think you mistake for lovingly; there is no pity in his actions or his gaze as you expected there might be, just kindness.

“You did not make a fool of yourself, dear.” He soothingly calms your worries.

You begin to find yourself leaning into his touch as he fingers rise to cup your cheek and he moves closer to you.

“Your kiss did not offend me, and in fact I quite enjoyed it.” Thranduil confessed, surprisingly bashfully.

Your brows knit in confusion at such a confession, causing Thranduils grin to grow.

“I called you here because I wondered how your kiss would feel with both of us sober.” He told you gently, his voice so soft that it lulled your shock, even as his other hand rested gently on your other cheek.

“I’d like that too.” You whispered back your confession as both you and Thranduil leaned into one another.

Your lips found each other and connected in a sweet and loving way. As the kiss continued, your hands came to rest around his neck, using the leverage and your tippy toes to push deeper into the kiss.

#Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine

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disasterofastory · 10 months

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Leather and dust (Thranduil x Reader)

Leather and dust Thranduil x Reader Warnings: smutty

Summary: Thranduil pays you a visit in the library.

The creak of the heavy doors breaks the silence of the library. It's loud and sharp in the silence. A small gasp leaves your lips as you jump because of the sudden sound. The book almost slips out of your hands, and you tighten your hold at the last moment. Your nails dig into the leather cover.

You know he is here. You can feel it. And hear it. His steps are heavy thuds on the ground. Putting the book back in its original place on the shelf, you try to listen to the rhythmic noise to find out where he may be. A frown appears between your brows as you turn your head left and right. His steps echo between the tall walls. One moment, you are sure he is far away, and the next second, your heart jumps to your throat at his closeness.

Where is he?

"What the book did to cause that frown?" Another gasp leaves your lips at his words. Your head snaps up where he stands, and your hand slips away from the book's spine to fall next to your body. Your fingers seek out the soft material of your skirt to grab something. "It did nothing, my King," you reply when you find your voice. Thranduil stands a few meters away from you at the end of the shelf. His hands are behind his back. His posture is straight and confident. His whole presence demands respect and obedience. "Then who earned your sour mood, Y/N?" "Oh, nobody," you croak out, clearing your throat. "I just... I was deep in thought." "Do you want to share them with me?" He asks, stepping closer. "Maybe I can ease your worries." "I have no worries, my King," you tell him, shaking your head. "My thoughts don't even deserve to be mentioned." You are lying. Of course, you do. But how could you share your thoughts with the elven king? How could you tell him that he is the reason for your worries? That you barely can breathe in his presence? And you can't look at him without burning? And the little game he has been playing with you for weeks now drives you desperation and madness at the same time? "It's hard to believe that your thoughts don't deserve mentioning," he argues softly. The corners of his lips jerk upward, but Thranduil doesn't let himself smile even though the amusement is clear on his face. Humor glints in his bright blue eyes. Not knowing what to say, you clear your throat again before speaking. "Can I help you with something, my King?" You ask him, trying to be more professional. "The others told me you want to reorganize the library," he says. "Yes," you nod. "Tightening the relations between Lake-town and the dwarves made a mess here. I thought perhaps..." "Why?" He asks, and the sudden question stops you from speaking. "Why does a mortal woman like you with such a short lifespan waste her time here? With old books and languages?" His question hurts for a moment. The frown is back on your face with a small pout. "I..." The wrinkle between your brows deepens as you try to think of your answer. "Maybe that's why." Turning to the books so you don't have to look at him, you continue. "I don't have hundreds and thousands of years to get to know and experience everything. The books and documents... they help. And..." The air gets stuck in your lungs when you feel him moving behind you. His chest touches your back. His whole presence hovers above you and almost pushes you to your knees. "And?" His warm breath fans over the side of your face. It smells like fruits and a hint of the finest elven wine. "And..." You have to force the words out of your tightened throat. "And their smell. It's parchment, dust, leather, and ink. They are comforting." By the time you finish your sentence, your voice becomes a weak whisper. The tip of his nose brush over the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. Your heart stops beating for a long second, and your thighs clench without your control. "That explains it," he hums against your skin. "Explains what, my King?" You ask back, still frozen in place. "Your scent," he says. "Dust, leather, and ink. It haunts me since you are here. I lay in my bed at night, unable to sleep because of you. I can hear you. I can smell you." "Oh." "Do you know what I do then, Y/N?" He asks. His large hands land on your hips. His hold on you is tight and possessive. You can feel the squeeze of his fingers between your legs even though his touch doesn't move away from your sides. "No," you reply. The word leaves your lips panting. "Then ask me, Y/N." His lips brush over your neck as he speaks. "Ask me what I do when I'm unable to free myself from the thoughts of you." "What do you do, my King?" Your question is shaky and breathless. His chest presses against your back some more. You can feel him pressed against your bottom. "I imagine you," he replies. You can barely feel the kisses he hints on the line of your shoulder as he goes up to your neck, but you still know what he is doing. "I close my eyes and imagine you beneath me. You are bare and flushed in front of me. Your lips are red from my kisses, and your legs are open as you wait for me." You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each word that leaves his lips. One of his hands slips down to your skirt, pulling up the fabric with calmness and patience. "I try to imagine how you taste and how you sound as you scream my name and beg for more." "Thranduil." His name slips off your tongue with desperation. Your eyes fall close, and you have to grab one of the shelves to keep your balance. "I imagine this pussy around my cock instead of my hand." His long fingers find their way under your panties easily. His touch glides over your wetness, gathering your juices until he is soaked in your essence. "Open your mouth," Thranduil orders. His voice is quiet but not less commanding. "And suck." Your own taste spreads across your tongue as he pushes two of his fingers between your lips. "Is it as sweet as I imagined?" He asks but doesn't let your answer. When you open your mouth to speak, he pushes deeper until you gag. Saliva drips down your jaw. "I will taste you tonight," the elven king states. "I will feast on your pussy all night until you are as mad with need as I am." But you already are. The world is dizzy around you, and only Thranduil's arm keeps you on your feet. Your pussy aches and throbs for more.

And everything is over before you know it.

"Come to my room tonight," Thranduil says. You feel cold without his warmth behind you. "I will wait for you."

#thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil smut #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit smut

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deadlymistletoe · 9 months

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A Marriage Overridden

Pairing: Thranduil x f!reader

Genre: Angst/romance

Description: Keeping your relationship with Thranduil a secret backfires when your parents arrange a marriage for you. Thankfully, all arranged marriages have to go through the elvenking himself.

Warnings: None? Reader doesn't have the best parents, but nothing physical or too bad overall.

Word count: 1745

The only sound was that of the basket you had been holding clattering to the ground, flowers so lovingly picked spilling out.

You stared between your parents, your eyes pleading with them to announce that this was nothing more than a joke made in bad taste.

They didn’t.

“No. No! You can’t!” You choked out. This couldn’t be happening. You had to have heard wrong… but no, your mother shook her head, a small smile on her face.

“Y/N, this is a good thing. We only want what’s best for you, and nothing can get better than this.” She ignored you as you shook your head, in denial. “Callon is a well respected soldier in the king’s guard, and his parents have agreed that the two of you would make a fine match. You would be respected, and treated well, what more could you want?”

Thranduil. The name was on the tip of your tongue, but you held it back, whether from the shock or the practice of keeping your involvement with the king a secret you weren’t sure.

When you’d first gotten involved with Thranduil, the secrecy had been necessary - it was a new relationship, he was the king - well above your own social status - and neither of you wanted the opinions of the kingdom to influence your relationship. Whether it worked out or not, at least then it could happen naturally without being scrutinized.

As your relationship developed into something more serious, neither of you suggested letting the secrecy stop - this was something that was yours, it belonged to the two of you, and neither of you wanted to burst the little bubble the two of you were in.

Besides - there was just something exciting about that idea of sneaking around, forbidden fruit, so to speak (you still remembered the way your heart had rapidly beat against your chest when the two of you had been abruptly interrupted and you’d had to hide in the large closet of silks while Galion spoke to the king about a delivery of wine of all things.)

You were happy. You were, dare you say it, in love.

And now, when faced with the question of what you could want more than what your parents were offering, an image of the pale-haired ellon surfaced in your mind.

You took a deep breath, looking at your parents. “I can’t marry Callon. Please don’t ask me why, I just can’t.”

Your father frowned. “This could be your only chance. If you can’t give us a proper reason..”

He trailed off and you stuttered, scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t reveal the secret you kept so close to your heart. “I don’t love him!”

Your mother laughed lightly. “Oh, my dear Y/N. If that’s all then there’s nothing to be worried about. Your father and I weren’t in love either, but we came to love each other over time. I’m sure it would be the same for you.” She lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “Besides, I’ve heard Callon is very fond of you.”

You scoffed. “I’ve spoken to him once, to ask him to move out of a doorway! How can he be fond of me? He doesn’t even know me!”

Your mother stopped smiling. “That’s enough. This is going ahead whether you like it or not. We can’t let an opportunity like this slide past.”

You felt betrayed as you looked at your parents who had raised you, loved you. “That’s all this is to you? An opportunity? You care more about gaining status than what I want?”

Your father shook his head. “We’re doing this for you. You’ll thank us later. Now make yourself presentable. We’ve scheduled an audience with King Thranuil in order to make the arrangement official.”

After you’d locked yourself in your bedroom you leant back against the door. The ‘audience’ with the king was in less than an hour. Your parents had given you no warning so you wouldn’t have time to try to find a way around the arrangement.

You didn’t even have time to find Thranduil and warn him. Oh, no. Sure, the king had the option to decline the arrangement with good reason, but what reason was good enough? Would he risk the aftermath of revealing his relationship with you just for this? What if he thought you wanted this? Asked for it even, and decided not to tell him?

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was. And now you were seated stiffly beside Callon, avoiding Thranduil’s gaze from where he sat across from you on the other side of his desk.

You and Callon’s parents sat on either side of the two of you, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.

It didn’t take Thranduil long to read the document that needed only his signature to be valid.

His eyes moved questionly to you when he finished, and you wondered if you imagined the brief look of confusion and hurt before his expression cleared.

Maybe it was a testament to just how strong your relationship had become, but in the brief moment your eyes locked, you could almost hear him asking you, ‘Is this what you want?’ and you replied with a very slight shake of your head, your eyes clearly sending him your answer. ‘No.’

He didn’t reply, instead turning his attention to the elves who had arranged the marriage and leaned back in his seat with a sigh, “I’m afraid I shall have to override this marriage.”

You let out a silent sigh of relief, wondering just how he was going to justify his decision. After all, it was almost unheard of for the king to interfere with this sort of thing, simply signing off on it without a second thought.

Callon frowned beside you, but you didn’t pay him any mind, instead watching as confusion and slight frustration passed over the faces of the others in the room.

“What?” Your mother stumbled over her words, "Why?” Your father nudged her and she quickly tacked on the words, “Your majesty.”

Thranduil looked almost amused as he answered. “Your daughter is already betrothed. She can hardly be betrothed to two ellon’s at the same time, can she?”

The looks that crossed the faces of your parents would have been comical had it been any other situation.

Callon’s parents looked at yours in confusion and annoyance, clearly wondering why your parents had agreed to such an arrangement if their daughter was already romantically attached to someone.

Then you did a double take as his words registered.

What?

“To who?”

You narrowed your eyes. Yes, you thought, to whom am I betrothed without knowing it?

He met your eyes with his. “To me.”

Oh. Oh! You felt your heart flutter in your chest, your cheeks heating up before you were knocked back to reality at the reactions of the others in the room.

Shock covered the faces of the other elves in the room, and as you timidly watched the emotions cross your parent’s faces, Callon’s mother spoke up. “It seems that none of us were aware of this development, otherwise we never would have suggested…”

Your mother turned to look at you. “Why didn’t you tell us?” She asked, and you couldn’t tell if she was more angry or hurt that you hadn’t told her.

You searched fruitlessly for an answer, vaguely hearing Callon’s parents leave the room after excusing themselves, when Thranduil’s low voice cut in, answering for you. “I asked her not to. Clearly, I was wrong in doing so, but do not punish your daughter for my misjudgement.”

Your parents stared at Thranduil - who had come around to your side of the desk - for a moment before quickly assuring him that they didn’t blame him, nor would they take it out on you.

Your mother paused on the way out, looking at you. “Are you happy?”

You glanced at Thranduil, watching you carefully before looking back at your mother. “Yes.”

She nodded, glancing between you and Thranduil. “We’ll speak to you later.”

As they left, movement suddenly reminded you that Callon was still here as he stood up, glancing nervously at his king.

Thranduil tilted his head towards the elf. “I do not blame you for the mistakes of others. Go in peace.”

Callon nodded, relieved, and headed for the door but hesitated, looking back at you before leaving. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad our parents weren’t able to go through with it, for my heart too is already taken.”

You gave him a smile as he left, suddenly feeling much more sympathetic towards the ellon.

You turned back to Thranduil, suddenly feeling nervous. What if he only said what he did to override the arrangement? What if he didn’t actually wish to marry you? What would happen now the secret was out?

He didn’t give you much any more time to worry. As soon as you’d turned around his lips landed on yours and you felt yourself relaxing against him. This had to be a good sign, right?

Thranduil pulled back, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you, voice a mere murmur as he spoke. “I apologize if I was out of line, but I couldn’t think of anything else. Of course, if you don’t wish to marry me you are under no obligation-”

“What?” You cut him off, wondering if you were hearing right.

He frowned before beginning to repeat himself, but you interrupted again. “No, I mean, you weren’t just saying it? You mean if I did wish to marry you…you’d be okay with it?”

He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face. “Of course I’d be okay with it. I just didn’t want to assume…getting married would mean telling people about our relationship and I wasn’t sure you’d want that.”

A smile came across your lips. “You should have said something earlier.”

He hummed. “I suppose if I had then we wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like today.”

You giggled before becoming serious again. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. It was too late by the time my parents told me.”

His breath brushed against your ear as he leant closer, pulling you against me. “It’s not your fault,” you felt him smirk against your skin, “but should you wish to make it up to me regardless…”

“Of course.” You breathed as he connected your lips once more.

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

#imagines #the hobbit #female reader #thranduil #the hobbit x reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #my writing

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htchnr · 23 days

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♰ drink you dry ༻ THRANDUIL.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist.➻ buy me a coffee! ➻ 1K drabble event!

CW ➻ smut ⋆ piv ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ blood sucking ⋆ wound licking ⋆ MODERN AU! Vampire!Thranduil ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

SUMMARY ➻ edited my old Graves vampire fic to be a Thranduil fic to see how i like Vampire!Thran ... safe to say i will most likely write a full thing for him now .. WC ➻ 0,7K.

you lean against the windowsill, leant forward ever so slightly as you looked out at the dark sky — stars spattered around like a messy painting.

a full body shudder wracked through you when his hands smoothed over the swell of your hips, long and slender fingers dragging up the curve of your waist — then smoothing back down.

his breath is hot against your ear when he leans in to speak, a shivering - "well, hello again sweetheart," - coming from his lips.

you whimper in pleasure as he dips his head down, his long silvery blonde hair cascading over your shoulder, his nose dragging against the soft skin of your throat — breathing in deeply through his nose as he drowns himself in your scent.

"oh how i've missed your pleasurably sweet scent," he breathes, lips brushing against the skin, his hot breath trailing as his lips are slightly parted in pure pleasure.

your breath hitches, your hands moving to cover his that have found purchase on your hips, your smaller hands gripping around his as his lips drag across your throat so euphorically.

oh how you've missed him — missed his large hands, missed his strong yet lean body against yours, missed his sharp teeth scratching down your skin — threatening to sink into your flesh and drink you dry.

he grins against your throat, sharp teeth scraping around in such a pleasuring way — if it was anyone else you'd almost be embarrassed at how wet his teeth got you.

he grins — his teeth pressed against your throat. "you missed me too, huh honey?" he coos, voice low and almost mocking.

though, how could you ever hate him when the endearing names roll off his tongue like sticky sweet honey, just waiting for you to give in and have a taste?

you close your eyes, clenching them tight as you shiver in anticipation — his hands dragging their way up your hips, slowly gliding up your waist — how were you ever meant to resist him?

you whimper, squirming against his hold as he pushes in — his teeth still dragging across your throat as he bottoms out.

moans fill the otherwise silent space of your attic, the erotic sounds spilling out the window and into the stars as he slowly pulls out — only to forcefully push in again.

"i've missed you so much, my dear," he moans — it almost sounded pathetic coming from between his sharp teeth. the chance of him missing you was slim, you knew he had plenty of places he went to drink and let himself go.

your breath catches in your throat as his pace quickens, your brows furrowing as you clenching around him, only getting even more aroused at the sounds he's making against you every time your walls tighten around him.

"are you gonna be a good girl for me?" he pants, his tongue licking a short stripe right over your pulse.

"you gonna let me taste you again? hm?" his sharp teeth threatening to break your soft skin if you move more than an inch.

you clenched around him, involuntarily showing him your answer. though, he knows you'll let him have you anyway.

"you love it, don't you honey?" he moans, savouring the sound of your whimpers as his teeth starting slowly sinking into your flesh — blood starting to slowly drip.

he drags his tongue across the small wounds, his pace having slowed to halt as he moans at the taste of your blood. he groans, leaning in to wrap his lips around the flesh.

you whimper and moan, your walls fluttering around him as you buck your hips against his. you would never admit how good it felt — how down right euphoric it feels as he wraps his lips around your punctured flesh and drinks your blood.

he sinks his teeth in a little deeper — his mind clouded with the taste of you as he seeks more. the obscene moans that are being muffled by your throat as he grinds into you.

you shut your eyes, the wave of euphoria crashing closer and closer the more he drinks. you were sure you could get off on his lips alone.

"oh shit-" you gasp, shaking against him as you orgasm hits you like a tsunami — blinding you with pleasure as you shake in his hold.

"oh just like that, you taste so good sweetheart-" he moans with your blood coating his teeth, bucking into you in a haze, chasing his own pleasure.

it doesn't take long for him to come, buried inside you with his lips wrapped around your wounds. he let's out a long, euphoric groan — painting your walls white.

he leans forward a little, holding you up as he catches his breath. and with that stupid, sharp and bloody grin whispers — "i'll come find you again my dear, you better stay put."

and though you're kind of curious about what would happen you you didn't stay put, you know you could never willingly walk away from him.

you let out a stuttered breath as he pulls out of you, his warm cum dripping down your thighs and onto the old wooden floor. and as if he disappeared with the low howl of the wind — he was gone as quick as he had arrived.

'what if i left?' — who are you even kidding? you'd always find your way back to him.

#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️thranduil #*⁀➷ vampire!thranduil.#thranduil x you #thranduil imagine #thranduil oneshot #thranduil x reader #thranduil smut #thranduil #vampire thranduil #lotr x you #lotr x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader

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