Tolkien Preference- Their Favourite Body Part of Yours
Hair- Elrond
Elrond is absolutely enchanted by your hair. Long or short he loves to run his fingers through it. He could spend hours braiding it and is not above begging you to let him wash it for you. In the bedroom he doesn’t like to pull it, instead enjoys stroking or caressing it
Eyes- Glorfindel
Glorfindel can easily get lost in your eyes. Though he’s a powerful warrior, his biggest weakness is your eyes. He will sit and listen to you speak, loving the way your eyes light up. In the bedroom he begs you to look into his eyes constantly, especially when you cum
Lips- Arwen
Arwen loves your lips, not just kissing them, but staring and touching them. After an evening together she will trace her fingers over your lips. Sometimes she feels a little bad because she wants to listen to you speak, but she just gets so distracted by your lips
Breasts- Fili
Fili, like most dwarves, loves the softer parts of women. His favourite part of you are your breasts. He loves to lay on your breasts when you cuddles, and will have them in his mouth during sex. He can’t help watch them when you ride your horse or dance, and it drives him mad
Stomach- Bilbo
Bilbo is a hobbit, so of course he loves your stomach. Loves laying of stomach while you cuddle together. Will reach his hand under your shirt to feel your stomach. He also loves how your stomach gets a bit bigger after he’s fed you well, but he would never actually say that
Legs- Frodo
Frodo is short, even by hobbit standards, but that doesn’t bother him. His height just means that he can stare at your legs all damn day. Frodo like to sit against your legs while you read together, and loves to lay entangled in them post sex
Hands- Legolas
Legolas sometimes gets lost staring at your hands. He loves to feel your hand tracing against it chest, holding his hand, or grabbing his waist when you ride together. His eyes gets all starry staring at your hands grasping your bow and loosening your arrow when he tries to teach you archery
Ass- Thorin
Thorin has no shame in letting you know how much he loves your ass. In public he’s subtle, but he definitely will stare. In private he will grab and slap your ass as much as he likes, even when he growl at him, he kinda loves it
Thighs- Kili
Kili finds both comfort and arousal in your thighs. He loves to lay his head on them while you run your fingers through his hair. He also could live between your thighs, often telling you that suffocating between them would be his favourite way to die
Neck- Eowyn
Eowyn loves both the sweet little giggles you make when you pecks your neck with kisses. She also loves the intoxicating way you moan when she bites and sucks at your neck. She’s been distracted many times during training watching you wipe sweat from your neck. She often smirks at you every time Eomer asks why you’re wearing a scarf during warmer weather
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
a/n: I'm writing for three new lotr characters! Glorfindel, Elrohir & Elladan!
࿔*:･ P.s., you're in an established relationship w/ him...also I'm not making up these heights. They're from the books,,,༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
𝑳𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒔 ⋆˚꩜｡
・Like many Elvish men, Legolas is tall.
・Standing at 6" foot, he seems to loom over you...or that's what it feels like.
・His limbs are lithe and long, with broad shoulders
・Tough hands from years handled his bow and arrows
・Which caught you off guard because he's a very graceful elf
・However, he forgets that you are not a centuries old Elven male who grew up in the forest, with amazing climbing skills and the like.
・So he just thinks you can climb things like he can...
・And it happens all the time.
"Legolas!"
"Yes, meleth nin?"
"You need to help me!"
"Why-"
𝑨𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒏 ✧˖°.
・This man is a gentle giant.
・6"6
・He loves using his height to make you feel extra safe around him
・That means walking with his hand against your back when you're in public, crouching down so you don't have to reach to meet his gaze.
・But his favourite is wrapping you up in his arms...you completely disappear when Aragorn gives you a bear hug
・It's best when he's wearing a cloak, and you have a walking fort
・With his size comes a big voice; you've seen how he is rallying his men. But you've never been on the receiving end of any type of shouting.
・No matter how angry he gets, or how worried he may become. He always treats you with grace and respect
・But there are ... problems that come from a parter so large...there is so much teasing
・Whenever you're out in the forest together, he'll pick you up and carry you over streams and slippery rocks.
"There you go, dilthen las (little leaf), you are safe now-"
𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒓 ⋆˚꩜｡
・A strong body in every sense of the word
・He's 6"4 with large hands and wide shoulders.
・It's sort of like having a husband who is part bear.
・Whenever there are chaotic moments, he will just ... move you. On some occasions he will guide you. One hand on your waist, moving you to somewhere safe.
・There times he'll hoist you up and off the ground.
・Do not mistake this for Boromir being controlling! Because he isn't - he just doesn't want you to get hurt. At all. Ever.
・Speaking of your safety, he is a menace when it comes to it.
・He is your wall.
・A barrier in human form.
・And when someone gets too close, he's right there:
“Watch your step,” he growls without turning, his body already shifted to block them.
𝑬́𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓 ✧˖°.
・Tall. Very tall.
・6"6
・He's an absolute bastard about his height
・But he never leaves you out of this because of it.
・However... he cannot stop teasing you.
・He loves it.
・Loves placing things on higher shelves when he feels like it. There's no reason to his actions other than, 'I want to push their button.'
・He'll say things like:
“Come now, say that again. I could not hear you from down there.”
and
“What’s that? Must I kneel for you to scold me properly?”
・The more you snap at him, the more he smirks.
・But the sight of you looking up at him... absolutely destroys him.
𝑮𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒍 ⋆˚꩜｡
・Described as taller than the normal Elf, he feels like a giant compared to you
・Around 6"6, his height adds to his allure.
・You've noticed that he's incredibly graceful; never once tripping over, nor getting his hair caught on his face, it's like ... a part of the sun dropped onto Middle Earth and decided to experience life as an Elf
・And yet ... no one is perfect...although he is close...
・Glorfindel has a habit of forgetting you are much shorter than he is
・Meaning that, you see life at a different level.
・So he does tight jars too tight, puts things up too high, and has once or twice forgotten to slow down when walking with you:
"My dear, you haven't spoken for some time-"
"GLORFINDEL!"
"Who-oh. Sorry dear."
𝑭𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒓 ✧˖°.
・At 6"4, Faramir is taller than the average man...very obviously so.
・It makes many people look at him funny when he says he's a scholar, and loves far better than being a warrior.
・Faramir is aware that height affects you both differently.
・He doesn't just notice; he remembers. So he can make like easier for you.
・Unlike other men ... he slows his pace when he walks, so you aren't running after him.
・He places this within your reach - secretly- though. He doesn't want you to realise what he's doing
・He never teases you about your height, in public, only when it's just the two of you. This includes holding you up so you can reach the shelf you need.
・Or walking past a stack of his books, and then grabbing you on "accident".
"Oh my love, I am so sorry! I thought you were one of my books-"
𝑬𝒍𝒓𝒐𝒉𝒊𝒓 ⋆˚꩜｡
・Taking after his father in height, both he and his brother are 6"7
・And yet how the size difference is displayed is wildly different
・Elrohir, the more outgoing of the twins, loves giving you piggy back rides.
・He'll kneel down, point to his back and tell you to "get on!"
・In the past, you've tried to laugh it off, but now it's ... a regular mode of transportation in your relationship.
・You've asked him why and he only responds with:
"...because I missed you..."
・You scoff every time because he literally tries to spend as much time with you as possible
・Has lost you in a crowd.
・Was on the verge of tears when he couldn't find you. (You were at a stall not far from him)
𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒏 ✧˖°.
・More introspective than his brother, he's also less elusive with his movements.
・Straight backed and moving with precision, it makes him feel even larger than he is
・Compared to other men ... he has never lost you, in a crowd, out walking, or elsewhere.
・Elladan knows where you are, at all times. Well that's not really a size thing ... no matter how tall or short you are, your safety comes before anything else
・When you're sick of making him slow his pace, or you having to quicken yours; he'll pick you up and carry you bride-style
・You’re tiny in comparison. And he does not hide how much he loves it.
・He wraps his cloak around you completely.
・When you’re annoyed and stomp away? He walks behind you silently, tracking your every step like a predator
・Then suddenly grabs you from behind and lifts you with a smirk.
“Do you truly believe you can escape me on legs that small?”
A/N: I realised it’s been far too long since I last wrote for Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad. Don’t worry, no crazy angst, just humour, and hurt/comfort.
Synopsis: After a heated argument, you decided to take a walk to clear your head, only to end up getting caught in a storm, resulting in your absence for a week. They, on the other hand, thought the worse until your return.
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Celebrimbor
You stepped through the doorway soaked to the bone, your cloak heavy with rain, and boots caked with half-dried mud from the trail. Your fingers were numb by the time you pushed open the forge door, the hinges groaning in a way that made you wince. There was a moment you expected anger, or worse, indifference. But what you got instead was the echo of something heavy crashing to the floor, followed by the very loud, very uneven clatter of tools spilling everywhere.
There he was, Celebrimbor shot around the corner like he’d been fired from a war bow. His hair was a mess, half-tied back with soot streaking his cheek, and the look on his face—pure disbelief.
“You—” He stopped dead in his tracks, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Then unhinged as though a dozen words had just jammed up behind his teeth, he took a shaky step forward. “You’re alive?”
You blinked at him. “What?”
He strode to you without hesitation and grabbing your face in both calloused hands, eyes darting over your soaked features like he couldn’t believe you were real. “I thought you left. You didn’t send word. You didn’t—by the Valar, I thought you were dead or that you—” He sucked in a ragged breath and pulled back, fists clenched. “I thought you left me. Because of what I said.”
Brushing wet strands of hair out of your face, you rolled your eyes. “Because you acted like a stubborn ass and I didn’t feel like getting struck by lightning trying to hike back here during a bloody storm?”
He stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “Storm?”
You gestured at yourself, dripping onto the floor. “Yes. Storm. The week-long monsoon from hell? Trees falling, floods, livestock floating by? What, did you think I was tanning in Ereigon?”
He didn’t say anything while his brows furrowed deeper and hand slowly rose to rub over his face like he was trying to scrub away his shame. “I thought—” He looked away. “I deserved it. I said too much. I was cruel. I...I never should have said those things.”
You dropped your cloak with a thud. “No, you shouldn’t have. You were an ass. You said I never understood your work. That I was only here because I liked the forge’s heat and the free jewellery.”
“I know,” he cut in, wincing. “I know. It was vile. I was angry and—”
“No. You were scared,” you said, stepping into his space, glaring up at him. “Because I told you you’re not a god, and your projects don’t get to eat you alive. And instead of listening, you threw that in my face.”
He sagged visibly. “I haven’t slept in a week. I couldn’t. The bed didn’t feel right without you in it. The forge didn’t sound the same. I couldn’t tell if I was hallucinating you or remembering you wrong. And I’d come home every night hoping you’d be here, and every night the door stayed shut.”
You raised an eyebrow. “So...you missed me?”
His expression was dry enough to bake bread. “I was halfway to building a replica of you from spare chainmail links and cursing your name the entire time. So, yes. I missed you.”
You crossed your arms with a slow smirk forming. “And?”
“And I’m sorry,” he said quickly, eyes holding yours. “I’ll never say anything like that again. Even when I’m angry, especially when I’m angry. Because losing you—thinking I’d lost you—it wasn’t just unbearable. It made me realise I care about us more than I care about anything I’ve ever made.”
You held his gaze letting him squirm a moment longer out of a quest for satisfaction, then stepped forward and shoved your cold, wet face against his chest. “Good. Because if I’d made it home and you were off brooding in a cave somewhere, I’d have gone back into that storm and hoped for a lightning bolt.”
Releasing let out a short, breathy laugh, his arms wound tightly around your waist. “Remind me to temper my mouth next time.”
“I’ll temper your ass next time.”
“Already sculpting the armour for that, love.”
Finarfin
You opened the heavy front door, expecting silence. Maybe even the stern face of a king trying to pretend he hadn’t cried into a dozen embroidered handkerchiefs. But what you weren’t expecting was to be immediately tackled by golden robes and a blur of hair smelling like lilac oil and nervous sweat.
He squeezed you so tight your spine protested audibly. “Yavanna’s tits, you’re alive!” he gasped against your shoulder, and you had a split second to marvel at him swearing before your feet left the ground.
“Put me down!” you protested while poking his shoulder. “I’ve just walked six leagues through wet forest—I probably smell like moss!”
Suddenly releasing you, his hands moved to cup your face, eyes frantic. “You disappeared. No word. Not even a note. I scoured the coastline. Sent birds. Rode out with the guards. I interrogated a goose herder because he thought he saw someone matching your description two days ago.”
“A goose herder?” you asked, deadpan.
“Bribed him with a wheel of cheese and four loaves of honeyed bread.”
You blinked. “You bribed a man to tell you where I went using baked goods?”
“It’s what I had on hand!” he snapped, then let out a breath and took a half step back. “Where were you?”
You peeled off your dripping cloak and stepped out your soggy boots. “Nearby village. Storm rolled in hard. Bridge collapsed. I was stuck for days before someone even managed to repair the road out.”
He stared, clearly dumbfounded. “You didn’t leave?”
You levelled him a look. “Of course not. Just because you said I had the diplomacy of a drunken orc doesn’t mean I’d up and vanish. I was angry, not deranged.”
His face went sheet white. “I—oh.” He dropped into the nearest chair like his knees had turned to pudding. “You were just stuck. Not gone.”
“I would never just leave you like that,” your muttered in an obvious tone while crossing the room to plop yourself into his lap, and flick his nose. “Although, if you ever talk to me like that again during an argument, I will exile myself. To Angband.”
“I was furious, and stupid, and possibly drunk on elderberry wine. But the moment you were gone, I felt like a hollow man playing king to a room full of ghosts,” he grunted, voice muffled as he buried his face into your neck and arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly.
“You didn’t change the bedsheets.”
He looked up. “Of course not.”
You softened, fingers slipping through his hair. “Next time, trust me to come back. Storms pass. Tempers cool. But you are my home.”
His mouth curled into a small, sheepish smile. “Even when I say utterly regrettable things about your tact?”
“Especially then. Because someone’s got to keep your golden head from floating too far off your shoulders.”
“I shall make it up to you.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw. “Name your price.”
“Hot bath and food. And I’m choosing the bedtime story tonight.”
He grinned. “Even if it’s the one where I accidentally insulted a goose herder and got smacked with a bread roll?”
“Especially that one.”
“And if I cried into my council robes?”
“Oh, I assume you did.”
“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Not even if Eru himself demanded it.”
Finrod
The halls were obscenely quiet when you entered. The kind of silence that only existed when someone refused to acknowledge anything around them because they were still stewing. The sheer thought prompted another eye roll—your nth number for the week.
Your cloak dripped steadily onto the mosaic floor of the palace, and you kicked off your boots just inside the entrance. You hadn’t the opportunity to make it three steps before Finrod’s voice echoed coldly from the corridor behind you.
“So you do remember where you live.”
Slowly, you turned to be treated by the sight of him standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched tight, and his golden hair slightly dishevelled like he’d been dragging his hands through it for hours. Nice to see how crazy you were capable of driving him.
You raised a brow, returning the same air of authority. “Nice to see you too.”
Striding forward with an expression so thunderous, he stopped a foot away. “You were gone. A week. No word. No message from the servants. Not even a whisper from the wind.”
“I was trapped in one of the nearby humam settlements. The roads flooded, so one could leave, and the villagers were too busy tying down roofs from becoming birds in the raging wind.”
“I assumed you’d left because of our argument,” he pointed out tightly. “That you’d walked out because I pushed you too far.”
“You told me I didn’t understand what it meant to rule. That I was selfish for questioning your council.”
“I said that in anger!” His voice cracked through the room. “And I regretted it the moment you walked away! I thought, give them time. A day. Maybe two. But then three passed. Then four. The storm hit, and every rider I sent returned empty-handed—”
“You sent riders?” you questioned in softness.
“Dozens.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “And when they found nothing, I thought maybe…maybe you left because I made you feel like you didn’t belong.”
He looked at you with all the sharpness fading into raw hurt. “Do you have any idea what it’s like walking these halls thinking you’ve destroyed the best thing in your life with a few words? I held court with a mask for six days and couldn’t remember what you looked like when you smiled.”
Your mouth twitched. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Entirely.” His tone didn’t even attempt denial. “I was halfway through composing a lament by the fifth night.”
“My goodness.”
“Yes. There were rhymes.”
You made a noise of mock horror. “Please tell me you didn’t sing.”
“I’m not saying I did.” He looked sideways. “But if I did, it was very moving.”
You couldn’t resist snorting. “You idiot.”
His shoulders sagged. “Your idiot,” he corrected, then softened his tone with an ounce of hesitation, “if you’ll still have me.”
Closing the gap, you reached up to cup his face, and his hands flew to your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “I would’ve sent word if I could,” you murmured. “But the weather was horrible. And…I was angry. But I didn’t leave you.”
Slowly he exhaled, pressing his forehead against yours. “Good. Because I love you. And if you had left, I’d have to write a second lament.”
“You absolute menace.”
“Still your menace.”
Glorfindel
Glorfindel appeared in the hallway like the same storm you just faced—wild hair unbraided, tunic only half-buttoned, his expression caught between fury, disbelief, and the unmistakable shine of near-tears. The moment your foot crossed the threshold, you barely had time to shut the door before the sound of his boots thundered across the floor, approaching.
“You,” he growled, pointing an accusatory finger like he wasn’t entirely convinced you weren’t some hallucination conjured by a grief-addled mind. “You vanished for a week!”
You dropped your soaked cloak with a soggy thud and blinked at him, soaked from head to toe. “There was a storm. The roads were flooded—”
“I know there was a storm!” he snapped. “I sent out three search parties! I threatened to punch Círdan when he suggested you might’ve just needed ‘space’!”
“You threatened Círdan?” you cried in utter disbelief.
He threw up his arms. “He was being philosophical at me when I hadn’t slept since the third day! I thought you were dead, or kidnapped! Or—” his voice cracked, and the rage drained out of him, leaving him standing there looking wrecked and years older.
“…Or gone,” he whispered quietly. “And I couldn’t even remember what the last thing I said to you was. Only that you were angry. And then you were gone.”
Your brows furrowed as you stepped forward, boots squelching on the wood. “You told me I was being ‘dramatic,’ Fin.”
“I meant adorably dramatic,” he muttered instantly, stepping toward you with equal urgency. “You were huffing. Your nose scrunches when you’re angry, it’s precious—and you know I’m terrible with words when I’m angry—”
You narrowed your eyes. “You called me a spoiled elfling and stormed out.”
“…Okay,” he admitted, wincing. “Not my finest moment. But I stormed out intending to return and apologise! I bought apple pastries on the way back! And when I returned you were just…gone. No note. No sign. And then the storm hit, and I kept thinking, what if the last thing you ever heard from me was—was that?”
He looked almost offended when you didn’t immediately throw yourself into his arms to console him. Instead, you wrung out your cloak and calmly replied, “You’re the one who stormed off like you were starring in a stage play.”
There a strangled noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “I was dramatic. Fine. But—you were the one who walked into the rain and disappeared like some moody soliloquy. You didn’t think maybe sending a bird? A single raven?”
“I tried,” you replied sarcastically. “The damn birds couldn’t fly in the storm. One nearly got knocked out of the sky by a tree branch the size of your ego.”
He opened his mouth. Shut it. Then gave a grudging nod before the silence stretched. His hands clenched and unclenched like he didn’t know what to do with them. Then, with a grumble, he reached forward and tugged you into his arms.
You were still soggy, but he didn’t care.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he murmured, burying his face in your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t start writing poems in mourning and have every elf in Imladris listen to me.”
You snorted. “You’d write poems?”
“Dramatic and weeping.”
“You really are ridiculous.”
“You love me.”
“…Unfortunately.”
He kissed your neck, desperate and rough. “Don’t vanish on me again. Or I will punch Círdan.”
Elrond
The moment Elrond saw you walking through the front gates of Imladris, muddy, rain-streaked, and glaring at the sky like it had insulted your lineage, he dropped the teacup he’d been holding. Not caring that it shattered beyond repair—as did his composure.
“Where in the Void have you been?”
You flinched, clearly you had been imagining this exact moment for seven storm-soaked days and still weren’t ready for it. “Well, hello to you, too,” you croaked, pushing back your hood. “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had—”
“You disappeared,” he cut in, striding toward you with wide, sharp eyes. “Without a note. Without a message. Even without your cloak, for Eru’s sake! And after that—”
“—ridiculous argument,” you finished. “Yes. I remember. Mostly the part where you accused me of never taking anything seriously and that being with you was a responsibility, not a game.”
He stopped in his tracks. “I didn’t mean—”
“You did,” you snapped. “And I was furious. So I took a walk for some air. Then for half an hour before the heavens cracked open, a tree fell on the road, and a lovely travelling merchant shoved me into a barn before I was flattened by lightning.”
“You could have sent a bird—”
“Oh, yes! Of course. Send a bird in the middle of a raging storm!” you exclaimed, flailing your hands in the air. “Why didn’t I think about that?”
He rubbed his face with both hands and made a sound that could only be described as part groan, part sob. “I thought you were gone. Not ‘temporarily cross and got caught in a freak storm’ gone—actually gone. I haven’t slept. I’ve started yelling at the staff. I called Glorfindel ‘ammë’ yesterday.”
You paused and raised an eyebrow. “Did he cry?”
“He curtsied.”
Well, that was the cue that broke you. You doubled over with laughter while Elrond stood there, baffled and tired and vaguely damp from standing outside in his night robe all week like some cursed spirit.
“Look,” you said, voice shaking as you sobered up, “I didn’t plan to vanish. But you hurt me. You said something harsh, I said something worse, and then I got stranded with a farmer who thought my name was ‘Moss.’”
“Moss?”
“I was too tired to correct him.”
Cautiously, he stepped closer with his eyes dropping to your feet. “I am sorry. I was harsh, and worried, and frightened.”
“I know,” you muttered. “I figured that out somewhere between the second lightning strike and the moment a goat tried to eat my sleeve.”
“Come inside,” he said softly while reaching out to clasp your fingers and guide you indoor. “You’re soaked, blue and clearly on the brink of falling ill. Your boots are—are those not your boots?”
“They belonged to a man named Oloron who lost his in the river. We swapped. Don’t ask.”
Stepping closer, he lifted his hand to cradle your face, his warm thumb rubbing your cold skin. “I missed you. The house missed you. The trees were quiet.”
“That’s creepy.”
“It’s true.”
Instinctively leaned into him without warning, and he caught you without hesitation, arms dropping to warm around you like he thought you might vanish again if he didn’t anchor you down.
“Say it again,” you murmured into his chest.
“I missed you.”
“Good. Don’t forget it.”
“I won’t.”
Gil-galad
The halls of Lindon were colder than usual. Not from the biting winds or damp stone, but from your absence, resulting in the great High King from not slept in a week—he barely ate, save for the few times Elrond had coaxed him into chewing through half a honeyed fig like some pitiful, lovesick warlord. All because you two had argued. Loudly.
It first started off a something petty—maybe it was about the council and his constant dodging of your concerns, or maybe the usual ‘you don’t understand the pressure I carry’ rubbish—before escalating. Whatever it was, he’d been dismissive, you’d been furious, and by the time the shouting had stopped, so had your presence in the house.
You hadn’t left a message with the maids. No word. Not even a note. Nothing but a door left ajar and silence heavier than the storm clouds that rolled in that night.
For two days, he searched, storm or not. Rode halfway to Forlond and back with soaked boots and a bruised ego. It didn’t matter that the rain pelted like knives or that his guards warned him of landslides. You were gone. You could have been dead for all he knew, and the last words he’d thrown at you had been, “If you can’t handle this life, perhaps you shouldn’t be part of it.”
Beautiful. Regal. Worthy of carving onto his tombstone, right next to Beloved Idiot.
So when the front door creaked open on the eighth morning, dripping with mud and exhaustion, and you stumbled in with your cloak barely clinging to your shoulders, Gil-galad froze mid-pace on the staircase.
“...You have three seconds to explain before I start wailing like a widow.”
You blinked at him, water streaming off your nose. “I got stuck in a bloody storm,” you grumbled. “The bridge collapsed, the path to Lindon was flooded, and the only inn in the village had one bed, and a family of six already in it. So, I’ve been drying socks by the hearth of an old woman named Sarah who thought I was some war orphan.”
“You didn’t think to send someone?”
“In the raging storm?”
“Birds fly in storms!”
“Yes, foolish Birds who have a death wish.”
He stomped down the stairs. “Do you have any idea what I thought happened? I buried you in my head five times! I thought you were dead, or worse—gone. Just…left.”
“Well that’s romantic.” You threw your arms in the air, which would’ve been more dramatic had you not slapped a soaked glove into your own face. “Why would I just leave?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he barked, sarcasm thick. “Maybe because your husband said something truly wretched and didn’t even apologise before you vanished into a torrential abyss?”
Your glare could’ve melted mithril at this point. “I was going to come home after a day, but then mudslides happened and cows started floating down the river like logs, and some bloody elf thought that was the perfect time to lecture me about duty and whether I’m ‘suited’ for this life!”
He winced. “...Yes. That would be me.”
“No shit.”
You both stared at each other, soaking wet and shaking for very different reasons. But then he stepped forward and flung his arms around you, his warrior-made body weighted upon yours and solid against your weary bones.
“You’re freezing,” he murmured into your hair. “And probably hungry. I left stew on the fire. It’s awful. I overdid the garlic. But it’s warm.”
You stifled a laugh at the absurdity of him assuming you would leave him, unsure whether to cry or punch him. “You thought I left.”
“I did. And if you ever actually leave without a message again, I’ll throw myself into the sea.”
You snorted while attempting to gently pry him off so his attire wouldn’t be drenched and smelling, however, he resisted your efforts. “You’d float. You’re too full of hot air.”
“Not the sweet reunion I was hoping for,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck. “But I’ll take it. Just don’t go running off without me.”
i absolutely adore ur headcanons posts with the lotr characters but i didn’t know how many characters you take requests for per headcanon post so i’ll keep it very short ehehe
how would the elves (legolas, thranduil, lindir, glorfindel, meludir, haldir and feren) react to human who is just affectionate even before courtship starts? morning hugs, lemme braid ur hair, surprise tackle hugs or see u later forehead kisses? just thought it would be funny to see the elves go beet red with perked up ears since y’know, they’re not as affectionate as humans
thanks so much! (and so sorry for the wait, completely my bad) legit an honour to have you request from me/say you like my works. and I completely agree with the thought being funny, and here it is as headcanons!
(full disclosure, i've written once/not at all for the last three characters - please tell me if they're ooc)
✧ Depends on if he’s travelled with the Fellowship, or if he hasn’t.
✧ Either way he’ll go still for a second, eyes gently going to you as if to check you’re actually doing what you’re doing. And of course there’s a light blush that’s spreading across his face.
✧ He gingerly hugs you back, unsure whether or not to squeeze you in it like you’re squeezing him. And when you give him a little forehead kiss he simply freezes in your arms.
✧ Wonders, just for a second, if you somehow started courting and he didn’t realise. Then he simply stays there and gives a smile.
✧ It isn’t forced, just slightly uncertain - he’s never experienced this before.
✧ Later comes up to you and awkwardly thanks you before retreating backwards.
✧ If he’s been in the Fellowship for long enough he starts to reciprocate the gestures on a smaller scale.
✧ Legolas can very easily be convinced to braid your hair as well, and he takes it very seriously.
✧ Lays out his cloak so you can sit on the grass. Does a few small ones so you can see which one is preferable.
✧ When you’re not courting he feels a little guilty doing it - as your hair falls through his fingers it’s almost like you are together. And he doesn’t want to take advantage of that. But he likes you too much to stop, and you braid his hair as well.
✧ Is probably the quickest of the elves to get used to it, aside from Glorfindel.
𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥
✧ In an odd way, he’s one of the elves who craves it the most.
✧ Everyone else has some casual touches, a reassuring gesture by a friend. But no-one is brave enough to touch the King of Mirkwood. Until you.
✧ He’s missed warmth, he’s missed the sense of other people that you can now bring.
✧ Thranduil finds himself at first leaning into the hugs, before remembering that he should be proper. That he’s maintained a colder persona for so long. (He still can’t fully hide his reluctance as he pulls away.)
✧ The people who know him well are surprised when he doesn’t admonish you, before they realise why. You don’t understand why the king is suddenly glaring at someone behind you.
✧ Eventually he starts to return the gestures as well, although to start they are more careful.
✧ As begins to braid your hair - the light touches causing some strands to escape and generally become loose - you remind him that you’re not made of glass.
✧ You’ve been able to almost tackle him with a surprise hug, he can touch you with more than a feather-light weight.
✧ Once the two of you start courting he accepts the gestures more easily, although he’ll never become quite as good at spontaneous physical gestures of affection.
✧ Throughout the entire time he remains impressively blush free, although he does tense quite a lot.
𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ You’ve seen how the poor elf froze when Aragorn simply hugged him. He’s very unused to gestures like this.
✧ He does like them - or at least, judging by the way he’ll steadily grow red he thinks he does. Or maybe he simply likes you.
✧ You have almost certainly triggered his fight/flight/freeze instinct on more than one occasion with a surprise hug, although he’s getting better at it. There’s a low chuckle, and a small smile when he realises it’s just you.
✧ People being this naturally affectionate is a curiosity to him, but when it comes from you it’s something he’s eager to know more about.
✧ Although the gestures, the small kiss on your forehead in greeting and such, are at first stiff and uncertain he gets better with them.
✧ Half the time when he’s greeting you with a forehead kiss, his lips really want to ask you ‘what are we?’. Or perhaps kiss yours.
✧ Still, Haldir is content to wait for a while. Even if he freezes up, your gestures still mean so much to him.
✧ Things become clearer when you eventually start courting, and all the affection feels more natural to him.
✧ There’s moments where Haldir simply blushes as he stands next to you, but every day the elf becomes more sure of your bond - and gives more expression to it.
𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ Also blushes a lot, his breath slightly catching before he tries to amend whatever he’s done. A small cough, or perhaps a bow to you in greeting - a vague hope some of the red will have gone when he comes up again.
✧ How you greet him, the quick kisses or the hugs, pulls him straight into romance stories he hasn’t read (or at least acknowledged reading) since he was a young elfling.
✧ And even then the gestures where between those already together, not like the two of you.
✧ Yet he doesn’t ever draw away, finds his gaze lingering on whatever has occurred.
✧ After the first time you’d braided his hair he’d nervously approached you again, asking if you braid it the following day as well.
✧ What you’re doing is unusual, but he can’t bring himself to care. Even the worries he has about seem to dissipate when you smile at him, or say goodbye with a kiss.
✧ Even after you start courting he still can’t stop his face from blushing horribly. Although he no longer hides it - he’s proud to be that deeply in love with you.
𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐫
✧ When you first meet him, your interaction is brief. Not too many words exchanged as he talks to you, and then again as you disappear. Except for ‘goodbye’ kiss you give him.
✧ It’s feather light, but as an elf he could feel it so clearly. The brush of your lips against his skin, the way your eyes had sparkled. How quickly blush had rushed to his cheeks.
✧ Meludir lifts a hand to the spot you touched him, almost as if expecting something. But there is nothing, just the memory of your affection.
✧ Unlike the other elves, he can’t help but try to seek out your affection. Returning a friendly kiss with a gesture of his own, even if he can’t quite bring himself to kiss you back.
✧ There’s always a smile on his face after you’ve done something, big or small, and a sprinkling of blush to accompany it.
𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧
✧ The first time you do such a gesture to him he’s quite certain that it’s by mistake.
✧ The second time you do it, or something similar, you can see him freeze for a second (trying to process it) before he turns to you. Almost confused, trying to understand why.
✧ Feren eventually just accepts it, although that doesn’t stop him from getting slightly flustered.
✧ As a diplomat the brief kisses, the friendly greetings aren’t too bad. He can adapt, he can get used to this new social interaction. What he can’t get used to is the more intimate gestures of affection.
✧ You truly see him flustered for the first time when you offer to braid his hair. The way he looks to you, words suddenly gone as you smile at him.
✧ It’s also these interactions he craves more than anything else.
𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥
✧ There is a small part of you that’s, quietly, intimidated by the golden warrior. But when he laughs with you, a rich, lighter laugh than you expected accompanied by a radiant smile, you realise you have nothing to be afraid of.
✧ Still, the goodbye hug you give him is slightly shy.
✧ There’s a moment where he simply lets you hug him, before he ever-so-gently returns the gesture; careful to be light and to not trap you.
✧ The smile he had on his face is still there when you pull away, which gives you a little more confidence.
✧ And Glorfindel is so happy you have the confidence. He’ll still blush when you’re affectionate, but it’s more because he likes you than he’s embarrassed.
✧ (One exception is the kisses, which do turn his ears red. He still looks forward to them from you, however.)
✧ Will return quite a few of the gestures, although like Thranduil you have to remind him that you’re not made of glass.
A/N : Comes back to drop this fic with no explanation, leaves immediately again- Just kidding. I should be back again, sorry for the long wait; I've been very ill & then my laptop broke, so. 2025 been going... interestingly
« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan ✧ wish to be tagged?
How elves deal or even feel jealous? What/how easy is to make them jealous?
A/n: Hello, yes I can! You didn't specify which elves you wanted this for, so I just picked a few of the ones I thought would go nicely with this idea. Also, I am trying these different styles of hcs, so let me know if you prefer lenghtier headcanons or shorter ones like these? I'm trying to find some balance with requests and my ability to write them in time.
Contents: (all separate) Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir, Haldir, Glorfindel x GN! Reader. Jealousy hcs, not proof read lol
⋆𓄃Thranduil
-Thranduil can be quite jealous and, more so, protective over his beloved and he does not care to ever admit it. He is quite avoidant of his subjects and feels a bit shocked (or looks like it, he did expect you to point it out eventually tbh) when you point it out to him
-Would make sliding comments about your attention lingering too long on someone, or even something at times.
-A play of words is sure to ensue if you keep pressing him for his reasons, and throughout he never raises his voice or anything of that sort, he is rather calm and eventually you come to understand that he is enjoying this, both the banter and the attention. This can be sometimes flustering or frustrating when he begins to smirk and offer sass and teasing words.
-The Elven king has seldom ever expected to ‘fall into’ love like this, or to behave like this while loving someone, but even through his long years of living he is still learning some things.
-Thranduil is quite wary of others, especially outsiders even if they are his distant kin. So he may keep you away from meetings or tedious dinners with any delegates or visitors that may seem like ‘too much’ for you to be exposed to them.
-He is stubborn, so chances are it would take a long time for him to let up on his views, as he deems it all necessary for your protection and happiness
-But even he cannot deny that he does carry a great weight on his heart and consciousness, and long, late night conversions are not something rare with him. He enjoys them more than anything else because he feels more justified to be vulnerable when the rest of the world falls asleep. He is more open to physical touch as well, and he tells you his worries and his feelings clearly then.
🍃Legolas
-The prince of Mirkwood is still quite green in the area of emotions and how one deals with them, despite his years. But he is notably much softer in comparison to his father.
-He would find it odd that he feels this way and would hide it away from you for the longest time until he can bear it no longer. It is like poison to him
-Although you would be able to see it all happening and coming down on him with the way he stares out at nothing, sometimes at the people besides you, the way his lips pull into a deep carved frown and how his jaw sets, almost uncomfortably, even for an elf - especially for an elf. His shoulders are so tense you can put a table on him
-Once he expresses his feelings to you he does apologize as well, he doesn’t want you thinking that he doesn’t trust you or that he believes you’d go behind his back and take the offer of another heart - he truly can’t explain the feelings and where they stem from.
-It’s multiple things all at once - he wants you safe and happy, and the people around may not have the purest intentions, but at the same time he feels odd that you sometimes seem to be having much more fun with someone else than him. So there’s quite a lot to unpack with him, but he is not impatient or unwilling to learn.
♬Lindir
-Lindir is more prone to fits of jealousy that strike seemingly out of nowhere, he is quite dense with it too although not nearly as secretive as he would like himself to be. He may be quiet, but the face he stays quiet with is a completely different story..
-His jealousy does stem from a sense of insecurity in his own ability to be a good partner for you, it eats away at him at times and he can take up to saying witty responses to the individual/s that he perceives as sources of his feelings. He is never malicious of course, neither to you or them, as he understand these feelings can quickly turn to poison
-He may require some more support from you at times like these, and in private he feels utterly defeated in face of his own jealousy. He is not the one to openly ask for attention from you, but at times like these he may ask you questions that may reassure him again. Hold his face in your hands and just kiss the elf, that would be my advice, plainly delivered
-He would grow flustered at such actions, and he may even give you some sass for it, but he is never refusing your advances at pouring some more of your love on him
°˖➴Haldir
-The Marchwarden of Lorien is not the most open when it comes to his own emotions and it can be difficult to read his exact trail of thoughts at times. But jealousy is not foreign to Haldir, he knows how it feels and he has long since come to truly dislike(hate) it.
-It is unbecoming of his station and just of his own character in general. Nonetheless, this jealousy he feels holds its roots in worry for your safety rather than any kind of distrust of you, and it's greatly amplified by the distance between the two of you when he is away on duty.
-Haldir doesn’t act out on his jealousy, although he makes his opinion known if he agrees or disagrees with you on your choice of companions. If he is at home with you, he would also tag along with you, if you so desired or if he just really, really did not like the company you’re going to be with. He knows nearly everyone in Lorien, and so he knows who to be wary of. That is not to say anyone from there would be a liability when it comes to physical harm, he knows that much is less likely to happen, but when it comes to needs that are more from within, love, need for attention - then he is not so sure. He cannot read the minds of others, and everyone changes over time, even elves.
-His jealousy does lessen up when he is with you, as he is not as worried when he has you in his eye. If there is danger, Haldir would do whatever was in his power to eradicate the source of it.
-You may notice this particular mood on him by the stiffness of his jaw and the hard look he sometimes directs at no one in general, as if holding an internal monologue with himself over what he’s experiencing and feeling
☼Glorfindel
-The Slayer of Balrogs is not susceptible to jealousy, and he was never a jealous individual to begin with. And that’s also without mentioning that he trusts his partner as well, otherwise he would not be with someone he did not trust.
-After his re-embodiment he may come off as a little clingy - he stays with you for as long as he can, not letting any moment go to waste, even if you are an immortal being as he is. He leaves kisses on your hands and your forehead when no one is around to see, it is intimate and he simply wants you to know that you will always have his love and support
-He is also very clear in his communication with you, and trusts that you’ll tell him if anything is bothering you, although sometimes he does know to postpone telling you something if he believes it could put a strain on you.
-He is quite free spirited though and open minded at that, just a chill guy, the chillest on this list I dare say
-All in all.. 10/10, would recommend
Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
Screaming, crying, throwing up about Galadriel!! I was wondering how you think the elves, particularly Galadriel and Thranduil, would comfort their loves after a bad dream? Thank you so much <3
catch *throws this at your face*
Middle Earth Elves | Comforting you after a bad dream
He hears you stirring in your sleep when he's on watch for the fellowship
Trudges over after you don't let up and kneels beside you
Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to slowly wake you up
Once you wake he asks what's troubling you, keeping a hand running through your hair tucking it behind your ear
He's one to try and distract you, so he invites you to stay with him on watch for a bit
You both sit further away from camp, you leaning on his shoulder as sleep slowly overtakes you again
But he does not move you or disturb you, hoping to keep you close incase you are to have another nightmare
Arwen
She notices sweat pooling on your head and your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep
She immediately knows what's happening, you're having another one of your spells
And so she wraps herself around you, shushing you and hoping to rip you from the nightmare without waking you
Hands soothing over your chest and shoulders, her elven healing powers warming your skin and dissipating the tension in your muscles
When you wake, she reassures you that you're safe to protect you, with gentle kisses peppering your cheeks and neck
She hums a lullaby to rock you to sleep again
Thranduil
He is quick to be at your side when you wake with a start
Is immediately pulling you into his lap, face full of worry, asking what could be wrong with his little flower
Thranduil gets quite stressed when you are upset because he hates to have something be hurting you that he cannot stop
So he listens as you explain your dream, and he coos at you as he kisses the tears away from under your eyes
Stays awake until you have fallen asleep once again, his back against the headboard while you doze off on his chest
His gentle hands remain on your back, scratching lightly to remind you that he is there
Galadriel
You try to keep your troubles to yourself in the hopes to not bother you
But she sees right through it
Places a gentle hand on your forehead as she approaches, feeling your troubles and softening them quickly
With her touch, you feel the darkness dispel, and a soft ease drips over you
"You are safe my love. Your mind will not trouble you now, as long as I have something to say against it."
She puts comforting visions in your mind, lulling you back to unconsciousness and never pulling her hand away from your skin until she is sure you sleep easy
She remains close, a protective, strong ethereal presence to ward of any evil
Glorfindel
Protective and compassionate nature by heart
His presence is strong, his frame covering you in a blanket of relief as he runs his hands along your tense body
"You need not weep meleth-nin. I am here."
He speaks of other things to distract you, his fingers finding your face to wipe away stray tears that stain your skin
At your beck and call when you are vulnerable with him like this, treating you like some delicate statue
Also a shit ton of forehead, hairline and hair kisses, there is not a moment where he pulls away from your body
Lays you back down with you tucked beneath his chin, the sound of his drowning out as you sleep once again
Celeborn
He observes your uneasy sleep and waits for you to wake up yourself to calm you
He encourages you to talk about it, opening up to him and letting him try to help you in any way possible
His leading demeanor gives him a natural need to take care of you, in any way he can
He is a grounding presence, telling you to focus on his voice, his hands on your cheeks, the feeling of his breath hitting your face as he holds you close
Takes you out for a short wander of Lothlorien if you truly cannot sleep, leading you with a hand on the small of your back
He remains a steady reassurance without pressuring you
Elrond
He was quite used to comforting people after nightmares, with Arwen and Aragorn having them regularly as they were growing up
And being known as a healer, he is naturally good at these situations
He wakes you slowly by whispering little phrases in Sindarin, his voice is steady and coaxes you back to peace
When you wake, he encourages you to say what had frightened you
Untangles your fears, reassuring that your mind is creating horrors that are not rational
And to further calm you he may prepare you a herbed drink/tea, insisting that he stays with you
He would end the comfort with a light humour, being glad to see you happy again
Gildor
He hears you stirring in your sleep when he's sitting at a nearby desk
Trudges over after you don't let up and climbs into the bed with you
Places a gentle hand on your shoulder to slowly wake you up
Once you wake he asks what's troubling you, keeping a hand running through your hair tucking it behind your ear
He's one to try and distract you, so he invites you to stay awake with him for a while
You sit on your shared balcony together looking over Nargothrond
Gildor cracks small jokes and plays with your fingers, leaving an occasional kiss on the back of your hands
Once you've passed out on his shoulder, he scoops you back up in his arms and places you back on the bed, crawling in after you and wrapping you up in his long limbs
AN: Okay so I've upped my elf game and am offering my favourite book elves as well, especially Gildor cause I was kinda unhealthily attached to that elf the second he was introduced in FOTR
Taglist: @cinnamon-girl-writes @mybrainsamess @pumpkin-soup333 @bloxholden35 @woodsofsunlight @emerald-tempest @vv56890 @anisswife @lady-legolas-greenleaf @doomslugthedestroyer1
Requests for headcanons / reactions / drabbles always open~
