Thranduil has you in his lap, hands holding you firmly on the waist, keeping you from moving, or trying to squirm. This is your punishment, and you will take it in stride. You got a little bratty, which he’s typically fine with. He’ll usually respond with a chuckle before overstimulating that pretty pussy. But today was different, you replied to him in a sarcastic tone in front of another, which to him was an embarrassment. So he’s denying your favorite thing. Orgasms. His cock is buried to the hilt within your walls as your perched upon his lap, your lover resting his chin on your shoulder. Whispering praise towards you in a condescending tone. Chuckling as he feels your juices soak his trousers. “Silly little girl. You really think I’d allow such a pleasure after making a fool of your king? Hm?” Thranduil murmurs before lifting you up slightly, before slamming you back down, eliciting the most pathetic whimper from your lips…
Imagine being shared between Thranduil and Elrond. Thranduils hands gripping your hips as he ruts into you ruthlessly from behind while Elrond forces himself further down your throat. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes as drool dribbles down your chin. Pussy clenching around Thranduils girth, a white ring forming around the base of his cock from non stop orgasms. How they manhandled you so that you’re now straddling Elrond, having buried himself to the hilt in your pretty pussy. Thranduil stuffing your ass as he reaches forward, wrapping a hand around your neck. Pulling you up so that your back is arched, giving his dear friend a show as your tits bounce with every thrust..
Thranduil is possessive. Perhaps even more so than Thorin with that damn arkenstone. And he can be mean. He isn't always sweet and loving. If he feels another man is too close or if you've entertained another man he becomes cruel in his affections. He'll grab your face and force you to look at him as he slides inside you, eyes all dark and heavy-lidded while his smile is almost sadistic. He tells you about how you've betrayed him, but he loves you regardless, and reminds you that you're here by his kindness and grace only. No other man but him matters. You nod along, knowing he does in fact mean what he says, but once the heat leaves his blood and the jealousy subsides his kisses will be soft again. He won't apologize. He never does. He knows you can take his moods in stride and you even enjoy provoking him from time to time. He knows you can take what he gives you and you'll always come back for more. Eyes as expressive as yours don't lie, and the star struck way you look up at him drives him half-mad with an insatiable hunger. Underneath all of his jealousy and anger lurks a lust he can taste on the tip of his tongue. It tastes like you. Sweet and heady and overwhelming. He tastes that same lust now as your silken walls clench around him, begging for his own release. He whispers again, reminding you of where you belong and who you belong to as he fills your pussy.
warnings: SMUT, porn with plot, rough, degradation, hair pulling, fingering, against the wall, on the floor, we get nasty, this girl is bringing all the freak and he's all for it.
Summary: For so long, you've stayed nothing but an entertainer, willing to be anything that would keep you close to your king. All it takes is one step in the wrong direction for it to all change, for you to get your way at last.
A/N: Here is my annual birthday fic! Hope you like it, and if you do, please gift me some likes, comments and reblogs.
@lovestruckelleth, thank you for the idea. Here is the fic you were promised months ago that almost never happened, my dear!
Tonight was a good night; one spent with your king. As your eyes rested on him, not quite with the intensity of staring—yet never leaving him. And there it was again, that all too familiar longing in your chest. Heavy in your chest and pressing down from your collarbones to the bottom of your ribs.
You wanted more. A life in his arms may not even be enough to settle the feeling. Not that you ever suspected you would be any more than what you already are, so lucky to have.
Your eyes sweep over him like they had many times. You had memorised his face over a hundred times, and yet you kept looking. Just like always, your eye eventually found his and was unable to look away again. You loved his eyes the most; what did not fall from his beautiful lips was always said through his eyes.
He looks back at you in this moment of peace. You were a calming presence — someone who, through jests, lifted some of the weight of his kingdom from his shoulders. You had seen these truths in his own eyes.
You worshipped the ground that your king walked on. Always admiring and never wishing to be far from him, while also overstaying your welcome. You were so lucky to be allowed to live in his kingdom despite not being of his kin.
That is how you have always acted with him, and in front of others. You respected him—and you didn’t want anyone to think otherwise.
Though when you found yourself keeping him company in his chambers, a different side of you showed. Sometimes it was a playful one, or a mischievous one. Perhaps it was your behaviour outside of private chambers that allowed you to get away with some of the stuff you did inside them.
You wanted him to know you cared, even when you were certain he did not to your degree. You respected him even when you joked. You never expected to be admired back when your eyes danced over him.
Though you knew a lot just from his eyes, there were things you could only know if he decided to speak about them. Like how he remembered off-hand comments of yours. Always having the staff in the kitchen prepare your favourite food when your eyes told them you were not feeling your best. Making sure you always had sheets as soft as his own and your soaps and perfumes that made you smell the wonderful way you did.
You loved him.
Most of all, you loved the way he looked at you and spoke to you when he was annoyed. Nothing got you off better than his sharp tone. Every time he’d call for you, despite how hard you tried to remain respectful, you would begin your antics.
You would jest until he gave you that look, that bothered, agitated stare, and in return, you give a smile. Some nights, you would leave it at that, the ache between your thighs too bad to stay. Another night, you pushed through to spend more time with him.
Tonight was one of the nights when you would have to silently leave. You had done this so many times before that you would never assume you would get in any real trouble. He had told you off lots of times, although you never went far enough to make him truly upset; no, you’d never want that. You had always made sure the amused glint in his eyes never left.
He generally lets you get away with so much. So much so, if you said something that you would say in private, in public, you would probably be sitting in a cell.
A hand slams to the wall right in front of your face, a loud clap noise echoing throughout the room. You subtly jumped at it, not expecting it in the slightest. It had been quite fun to see him grow frustrated—distracting him from his bothersome work as king. Something told you your fun was coming to an end as your eyes met his.
“Who permitted you to take your leave? You're not going anywhere...” He spoke sternly.
As much as you wish to say these games were for him, they were not. When your jokes were light-hearted and truly helped him ease, they were for him, but when you got sassy to make him frustrated, they were for you.
You never wanted to truly upset him. You loved a reminder of your lack of power; you loved when he’d snip at you, tell you to behave, for he was your king. You wanted to be in his control; you wanted to be his.
Something his eyes would not tell you was that he wanted it too. You knew you had caught his eye in some way, for he would never have granted you to make Mirkwood your home—or better yet, allowed you so close to him. You practically spend almost all of your shared free time together.
He knew how frowned upon it would be if he had taken a mortal as a lover. Elves are only supposed to love once in their lifetime, and he thought he had. Then, centuries after his wife fell, he had found you. He couldn’t find any words to describe this desperate feeling that clutched him.
“Matter of fact, I gave myself permission to take my leave.” You retort with a smug look. You wholeheartedly believe whatever punishment that comes your way will be worth it, which will most likely be nothing at all.
With that, you duck under his arm and try to walk away from him again. However, you feel him grab hold of your upper arm tightly, a very brief warning, before he pulls you back towards him and slams you against the wall. It was rather unexpected; you’ll give him that. Now, standing face to face, your heartbeat quickens a little with fear. Had you taken it too far?
You have a slight glint of disbelief in your eyes as you look up at him again, attention utterly caught.
“Last I checked, I, not you, were king of the woodland realm,” he muttered, leaning in closer.
You pull away as much as you can, pressing yourself flat against the wall. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach should’ve surprised you. However, they didn’t. They had always fluttered when he got near, and he was oh so near now.
You have to press your lips together to keep a smile from forming on your face. Gods, there was something wrong with you today? You might be in real trouble now, but why must it make you so horny?
As you mentally battled yourself over these intense feelings, you had missed the way he almost smiled. He watched you carefully as your face grew so hot—it had made you pink from your cheeks to the very top of your ears. Although he enjoyed seeing you this way, he knew that his feelings were reciprocated to a degree. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the uncertainty in him.
His eyes could not speak loudly and confidently enough for him to be sure that you loved as truly and deeply as he did. He wasn’t sure if you weren’t just experiencing a crush the way humans do. Still, he tried his hardest to push these feelings away for the moment and try to memorise your gorgeous, flustered face for later when he will be alone with his rock-hard cock.
You shouldn’t be getting off on this, but how you lived for frustrating him. For annoying him and seeing how far he’d let you go. He had let you go quite farther than he’d let anyone else go.
You felt so guilty now. Getting off on annoying him slightly was one thing, but now you get the feeling it wasn’t so slight. Now you can’t help but feel an overwhelming warmth between your legs and a beyond distracting tingle.
After a silent moment, where your mind wandered as you stared into his eyes, daydreaming that this would be the exact moment you’d think of later tonight in the dark of your own chambers. You decided it was best to apologise now and hopefully not get any real punishment.
“Yes, you are, my king. But-” You began.
“Stop.” He interrupted. His voice was deeply laced with frustration, and he used it commandingly.
You weren’t expecting it. Oh, how the tables have turned. It had always been you catching him off guard, and now he had successfully shocked you twice.
Unknown to you, most of his frustrations came from his sexual desires. He had let you jest, joke and tease your heart out, but eventually the throbbing in his pants would remind him he could not have you and make him truly annoyed.
He was definitely annoyed right now. His eyes are sharp. You were in trouble, and there was no getting out of it.
This had truly been a game to you; you knew deep down he enjoyed it too, to a degree. For he would not have allowed it to go on for so long if he hadn’t.
You never thought it would go anywhere, not towards a closer relationship with him, where you wouldn’t need to spend your nights with your hand. But now, you were sure your little game was coming to an end.
Your chest felt tight with anxiety, while the rest of your body, to your dismay, kept acting like a fool. Deep down, you loved it when he took control, acting like the king he was and treating you like the lowly woman you were.
You had started to reminisce about how much fun you had joking with him and hinting at your lust.
“Calling me King as though your only reason for it isn’t that it makes the space between your legs ache.” He whispered almost mockingly as he bent down a little to match your height more.
You had gone red as a tomato. You didn’t think he would catch on so soon... Now that you're wondering how he found out, you realise you haven’t been quite discreet at all.
You worshipped him in public, treated him so highly that at times it seemed you were putting yourself down. Which you were, because you got off on him having more power and control than you.
Never before has humiliation burned so bright in you. His words struck so deep, and the longer they lingered, the more hornier and filled with dread you got.
There is no way you're going to get away with this now. That look in his eyes was new, his tone too. You couldn’t for the life of you place what they meant. You had seen him angry, disappointed, annoyed, and on the rare occasion, you had seen him happy. This was just... new.
“You enjoy getting away with this? Jesting and joking just to see the look on my face. Bringing that memory back to your bed.” How did he know? God damnit.
Bright red was the only word to describe your face. You bit your lip and tried not to smile. As embarrassing as it was to be called out like that, so plainly, the thought of him finding out had gotten you off many times before.
Oh, how you loved the humiliation that burned in your chest. Subconsciously, you had begun to rub your thighs together. He noticed, of course, he did.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d figure it out.” You tried to keep up your usual act of being unbothered, but you clearly were not. Hot and bothered.
A sudden rush of worry so deep struck through your body. What will he do? What might change now? You tried your hardest to push away your lustfulness. Feeling so genuinely guilty because you loved the king and you didn't want him to think horribly of you.
Your heart raced in your chest. He did not seem bothered in the slightest. A small part of yourself was praying he’d let it continue. It was dirty and depraved, and you barely ever felt ashamed doing it. Doing things just to get a rise out of him because you thought his voice and the look on his face were hotter when he was angry or frustrated. You liked it when he got stern; you liked the threat of punishment, as long as it was him, you enjoyed it.
He hummed at your words, watching you carefully, noticing your every move. You found yourself not being able to hold eye contact as long as you used to.
“You did not make it difficult; did you wish me to find out? Even without any hope that I’d reciprocate anything you felt,” he asked.
You still weren’t entirely sure how he felt. Surely, he was angry? Would he still allow you to remain as his loyal servant? Maybe he wouldn’t banish you from his sight out of disgust? You hoped not. You really wanted to remain as close to him as you could. You would never lie or do him any wrong, aside from all the mild annoyances and the obvious swooning, but all of that had no evil intentions behind it.
You chewed on your lip. You couldn’t lie to your king ever. You nodded as you looked up at him through your lashes. The guilt and shame that settled in your stomach, as always, was accompanied by another feeling, an equally dirty one.
You couldn’t take this anymore. Not even the near burn of your arousal could distract you for long. You were sure he was truly disgusted with you now. You stare at your feet, unable to face him. He misses the way tears pool in your eyes, unable to keep them from falling. How pathetic you felt, and no longer in an enjoyable way. You take the deepest breath you can manage before looking up, feeling he deserved such respect while you apologise.
“I am deeply sorry, my king, it will never happen again, I swear. I did not mean to offend you so deeply. I should have had half a mind to stop, and I didn’t. I understand whatever punishment you want to give me. I’m so sorry.” There is so much you want to say, but as your voice breaks, your throat grows tight with sadness, and tears stream endlessly down your face, you find yourself unable to continue.
You want to tell how much you love and adore him. To beg not to be sent away, to say that even a life where you were forced not to utter a word to him is better than one where you cannot hear or see him. That even just the thought that there was a chance he could be near would be enough for you.
The shock on his face is hard to miss. He did not expect you to break like that.
Your eyes could not tell him how deeply you loved him and wished him to be happy, but your tears could. How heavily they flowed when you thought you had truly upset him. Before he knew what he was doing, he had crouched down slightly to match your height better and held your face in his hands. He cupped your cheeks gently, making sure you looked into his eyes and saw his concern for you while his thumbs wiped your tears as they fell.
Your name left his lips in a whisper. “It is all alright, my dear. I am not angry.” He whispered to you as though you were his most delicate prized possession. Relief fills you as you see and hear that he is not offended or grossed out.
A sigh left you.
All you can see when you look into his eyes is heartfelt concern, and it was for you. Only for you. It meant more than words could say. You chuckled a little, feeling a bit silly for letting tears fall over this. His words begin to truly set in. Was this the concern of a friend who did not mind, who found it endearing or of someone who also longed for more than just friendship?
He can see the questions forming behind your eyes as the words take their full effect.
Again, as he did when he grabbed hold of your face, he moves without thinking—this time he leans in. His eyes linger on your lips, and he comes in so close that you share breaths before abruptly stopping before your lips can connect. A kiss would solve all the questions in your head, but perhaps not all of his.
“Long have I listened to your words and wondered if there was more than lust.” his voice is soft, though it carries weight through words. You take them in for a moment.
You lean in just a smidge closer before speaking. “Wonder no more, my king.” You speak softly with a slight smile and a small glint of playfulness in your eyes. “I love you... More than the light the sun brings in the morning, more than the tranquil sounds of the forest or the very water and food keeping me alive.” Your eyes dare not leave his as you speak from your heart. Your hands come to rest on his forearms as he continues to hold your face. You let your truth linger in the air, and so does he before he speaks his own.
“I love you too, more than any elf in this kingdom could ever know. More than anyone could ever understand. Reputations and expectations be damned, say you're mine.” There is an air of desperation to his words, like he truly does not care what anyone might think.
Your smile widens a bit at his words. The relief of having your feelings reciprocated is delightful. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling for a moment.
“I am yours, and you are mine.” You remarked.
It is he who begins leaning in. You barely have time to finish speaking before his lips are pressed to yours. He kisses you gently as he is still worried by your previous tears. You lean in more, pressing harder, encouraging him to enjoy what is his, and he does.
He leans in more, though unrushed, and he is passionate. Taking his time to study your lips before slipping his tongue into your mouth, and trying to memorise all he can reach in there too.
By the time you finally pull away from him, you’re both panting. Strings of saliva connect you for several moments before dropping further, wetting your chins.
You giggle at that—feeling more carefree than you ever have. The words ‘he’s mine’ keep ringing in your head. But not in a possessive way, however, in the ‘I can hardly wait to marry this man’ way.
He smiles too; the feeling of quaint happiness sits around you two.
One of his hands falls from your cheek and comes to rest on your waist. In return, your hand falls from his forearm, and your arms come to wrap around his waist. Your hand comes to rest on his back.
The peaceful moment slowly becomes filled with lust again as you find yourselves drifting closer again. His other hand moves from your cheek to your jaw, keeping you still. Just so that he has complete control over the kiss that is about to happen. Your other hand come to rest on his shoulder, so you stay balanced as you rise on your toes, so he does now have to bend down as much for you.
Your lips lock together again in a passionate kiss. This time was laced with desperation, like the feeling of shock and delight had worn off from your love confession.
Now, all the time spent longing for each other's touch is catching up and must be dealt with immediately. His grip on your jaw remains firm as his tongue glides into your mouth again.
Your tongues don’t dance as they did last time; this time, it’s more of a fight for dominance, you on the steadily losing end. Even more drool than last time slips past the corners of your lips, and he's making a mess of each other, though neither of you cares.
You saw amusement in his eyes when you pulled apart, and you knew that he knew how this made you feel. He knew how it made you drip and how disgusting it made you feel.
"It's how depraved it is that makes you enjoy it so much, yes? Does it feel good to know you're doing something bad? Does it feel better hearing me say how dirty it is?” He begins speaking of the prior topic, your sexual desires. Your breath catches as his words wash over you, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Yes, yes, yes! Your thighs were soaked by now. The feeling of a good kind of embarrassment fills you yet again, your attention drawn back to the wetness dripping down your thighs. You nodded as soon as you realised you were yet to answer. With a commanding tone, he urged, “Speak.”
“Yes, my king,” you reply, your voice shivering with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. A blush creeps across your face, and you find yourself pressing your legs together tightly, as if to contain the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. You press yourself flat against the wall again, backing away from him like a submissive animal.
You look up at him as though he is one of the stars that shine bright in the night sky. Your surprise has slowly begun to fade as you enjoy his teasing, now blatant and willingly given instead of having to be jested out.
Then, to your utter relief, he presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss, hungry and harsh. You sighed as he did, very glad to have him against you once more.
He quickly deepened the kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth without any warning, and you moaned openly for the first time in his presence, though it was muffled by him. Your tongues dance together, though he remained dominant. He grabbed hard and kissed harder. His hands found the side of your head, keeping you from pulling away from him as he made out with you. Your heartbeat quickened out of thrill.
Your hands grabbed where they could; it had been so long that you had dreamed of this, and so you couldn't help your desperation. Your fingers intertwine with his hair and claw at his clothes impatiently.
He pulls his tongue out of your mouth and presses a firm kiss to your lips, then another to the corner of your mouth, then down the side of your face to your neck. He works with haste but precision, not pure desperation like you.
“Dirty little thing,” he says against your neck, as he switches from kissing to sucking. Your skin grazes his teeth as he sucks it into his mouth, leaving red marks that will turn purple by dawn.
He releases the skin with a slight pop and moves one of his hands from the side of your head to your waist. "I am your king, not some lowly elf with no reputation to be ruined,” He leans in closer and whispers into your ear.
No longer having guilt to keep you from enjoying his degrading, you bite your lip and tilt your head back; gods be good, never did you think you would get to hear such words from him. Don't stop, you almost say, never wanting him to.
“What would my people think? What would my kin have to say about this? A little mortal thing like you getting away with such vile behaviour?” he pulls away from your ear to look you in the eyes, perhaps to make sure you are still enjoying being talked down to. The look on your face is all the answers he needs.
“I know, I'm sorry, my king,” you whimper. Your lips are red and swollen and coated in both your saliva and his, pupil blown wide and face as red as ever while he stays almost completely composed.
“Oh, but you are not sorry, are you, little star?” he asks with a mocking tone as he unbends his knees, knowing that having him tower over you would make your head spin further and moves the hand still on the side of your head to your shoulder. You shake your head without really thinking, doing whatever he asks.
“You love it, you love being filthy, and most of all, you love hearing me say it.” He looks down at you as he speaks, and you must crane your head up to look him in the eye. You nod your head, absolutely under his spell. “Say it,” he commands as he slowly bends down closer to your height again.
“I’m dirty, I’m filthy, and I love it when you tell me so,” you whine, the ache between your legs almost unbearable. You tilt your head closer to him as he smiles at your response. “Please”, you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, and he hums in response.
He stands to his full height again and grabs you just above the hips. With barely any warning, he spins you around and pushes you roughly against the wall. You let out a quiet moan at the pain. He hears it but says nothing at the discovery.
You hear him removing his clothes behind you as he keeps you pinned to the wall with one hand on the small of your back. He tosses his tunic to the side, and you're graced with the knowledge he’s shirtless as it passes your view before hitting the floor, though you cannot see him yet.
After he’s half naked, he decides you're wearing too many clothes, and both of his hands are on you. His fingers dip into the back of your dress's neckline before gripping tightly and pulling down hard, causing the dress to rip.
You gasp as he tears it off you. “My king-” you begin without knowing what you're even going to say, but he cuts you off.
“I’ll have one of the servants bring you another one from your chambers in the morning before you leave. May I continue?” There is concern in his tone as he asks, and you can picture the way he’d be looking at you if you were facing.
The thought distracts you, and you don’t say anything at first. After a moment, you find your voice and though all that comes out are stutters at first, a desperate, “yes!” squeezes past your lips. He continues to rip away the silk dress as though unwrapping a present.
His hands pry and pull at your dress, desperation of his own shining through as he tries to get you out of it. Before you know it, your blue and yellow dress is in pieces on the floor of his private chamber. His hands soothingly caress down your sides, and they find your hips before giving them a slight squeeze. He pushes your front against the wall again, having pulled you away from it while removing your clothes.
One of his feet comes between your own, pushing against them one at a time, a silent command to spread your legs, and you do. You spread them wide, as wide as you can.
You hear a faint chuckle behind you. “So eager.” Your face burns bright again, though he cannot see it this time. You want nothing more than for him to take you, right here, right now, but when you feel his hand come between your legs instead of him, you cannot help but whine in displeasure.
He spreads your soaking wet folds, and his fingers glide through them so easily. Although you can’t see his face, he is completely unable to take his eyes off your cunt.
“You're dripping,” he comments, and watches as your pussy clenches around nothing at the embarrassment. He has a smirk on his face as he slides his middle finger forward, towards the top of your slit and rubs a slow, painfully soft circle on your clit.
You can’t stop the instinctive flinch in your hips that has you pressing backwards onto his finger. His finger slips away from your clit, and you let out another frustrated whine.
“Patience,” he states simply, eyes still yet to move. You feel two of his fingers pressing ever so slightly at your entrance.
“Please,” you whine desperately, as you arch your back and push your hips back against him. He laughs at you softly, it feels mocking, and he feels you flutter against the very tips of his fingers. Finally, he gently pushes them into you.
A deep sigh leaves your lips as his fingers enter you. Though you have spent each night since you arrived here with your own fingers inside yourself to the thought of him, his are wider than yours, and so much longer. They reach deeper than your own ever could. His fingers curl slightly and hit that wondrous spot on a new angle, a better angle than you had ever found.
He begins to thrust his fingers, starting gently, barely leaving you at first, slowly slipping out of you more with each thrust and entering slightly quicker. Moans flow freely from your mouth as you see no point in hiding them now that no other part of you is hidden. Your eyes flutter into a closed position as you tilt your head back slightly.
Your moans grow in volume as his pace quickens and hardens. He has found a good pace now, slow enough to make sure the tips of his fingers hit that one spot each time he thrusts them in, but still deliciously fast.
The fingers of his right hand move expertly inside of you, and one of his lefts finds its place on top of your clit, rubbing perfect circles, bringing tears of pleasure to your eyes and sweat of excitement to your skin. Warmth fills your lower belly, and with it comes a desperation.
“Please, m-my king, please!” You beg as your hips fall slightly out of rhythm and buck back against him with haste. You're unsure if you're begging for him to go faster or harder or simply for him to allow you to orgasm, but more pleas fall from your lips anyhow.
“I'm so close. So...” you begin to trail off after your first sentence, getting lost in the intense pleasure, your moans keeping your pleas at bay.
Thranduil comes in close, chest to your back, lips to your bright red ear. “Shhhh, sh sh…” He hushes you gently but with a slight air of mocking that would’ve brought you closer if you had been aware enough to catch it as his fingers continue their incredible work. His left hand's fingers press ever so slightly harder, and the fingers of his right move in and out a little faster.
Soon, your sounds of ecstasy are caught in your throat. Your fingers grip the wall before you, and your chest is pressed to it as your back arches; in this arch, your rear also presses against Thranduil, and his hard cock presses back.
Your thighs twitch and your legs shake under your own weight as pleasure rushes through you. As your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, a little bit of drool slides down the corner of your lips as those tears of pleasure that filled your eyes finally slide down your cheeks.
Soon, your voice is returned to you, and you gasp, trying to recover from the high. Your back relaxes, no longer pushing your chest further into the wall, though Thranduil stays close enough to keep his hard cock pressed against you.
His left hand moves away from your core and rests on your hip, rubbing soothing circles into your skin with his thumb instead of pleasureful ones onto your clit. Soon after, he slowly removes his other hand's fingers from inside of you, said hand coming to rub up and down your side.
He rests his forehead against the back of your skull, taking deep breaths himself while you pant and attempt to regain the ability to do the same. As air begins to find you more easily, he moves his head to the right. His forehead and nose brush against your hair as he comes to rest them against you, closer to your ear. You turn your head slightly to the right, wanting to face him. He leans away slightly, letting you move freely.
You look over your shoulder at him, and his nose almost brushes against your cheekbone. You bask in the afterglow of your release while admiring him from the corner of your eye. Although more peaceful than the moment before it, a lust still hangs in the air, both of you still unsatiated. It comes more so from him than you. He studies you carefully with his eyes, waiting as patiently as he can for you to regain your energy so he can have you again, properly this time. Valar knows he can’t wait much longer.
You lean away from the wall a little, just your upper half, so you can turn to face him more. He leans back a little so as not to get in your way as you move. The hand on your waist skims across your stomach and comes to rest on the other side.
You lean in to kiss him, but he doesn’t lean in to help close the gap; if anything, he tilts back slightly. He doesn’t want to exhaust you, but he has longed for this day, and now that it’s here, he has little control of himself.
He imagines that if he lets you kiss him, he’ll be unable to remain composed and take you right here, perhaps too soon after your first orgasm. Your lips just barely graze, and you give him a confused look.
You lean in further this time, expecting him to do the same and capture his lips better this time, and he does. But he does not kiss you for long, as you find him pulling away with a look of restraint upon his face.
Determined to make him stop restraining himself, your hands quickly find their place on his head, palms resting on the side with your fingers resting on the back of his head and your thumbs by his tipped ears. You hold him in place as you lean in to kiss him again.
Your lips move quickly, kissing each of his individually. Your tongue swipes against his thin lips, asking for entrance into his mouth, though the request is denied. He keeps his lips sealed shut even when he feels you frown against him.
You're reminded of something you read in a biology book once in Mirkwood's library, and thank the gods for such a wonderful idea.
Your thumbs, which currently sit stationary by the king's elven ears, lift and move back slightly. The rest of your hand stays still as your thumbs come to rest on the tips of his ears.
You're careful not to press down as you know it’s a sensitive spot, and pleasure can turn to pain quickly. He gasps at the unexpected feeling and shudders slightly, his grasp on you tightening. His gasp allows you to slip your tongue in.
Your tongue slides against his for a moment before he pulls away, and your hands fall to his shoulders. There's no aggression or upset behind it, but he does have to use a little force because of the way you're holding him. He doesn’t go far, though, his forehead coming to rest against yours.
“Are you ready to have me?” He asks bluntly, knowing how close he is to breaking. You give a teasing smirk, but before you say whatever it is that comes to mind, he speaks again. “Please.” It’s not a beg, no, he would never. Rather, it comes across as him telling you not to tease and a command to answer his question.
“More than ready, my king”, you say with a lustful tone as a hand slips from his shoulder and reaches down. You hold his cock gently in your hand, your finger and thumb trying to wrap around the base, but are unable to connect due to his girth. Your hand glides up and stops halfway to turn your hand around, now facing towards you, before continuing.
With the corrected hand position, once your hand reaches the top, you can rub your thumb over the weeping tip. You miss the face of pure resistance he’s making as your eyes are trained on his cock
You feel him throb in your hand as you spread his pre-cum around his tip. You begin to make another painfully slow glide down, but he tightens his grip on you before you can finish it. He can’t take it; you kissing him was torture enough.
He’s desperate for you. He turns you in his grasp so that you're facing him fully at last. He locks his lips with yours in a searing kiss. It's filled with passion, the kind only a long wait can bring.
You enjoy the somewhat rough handling and the clear dominance. Your hands come to rest on his chest, fingers running along his abs as you struggle to breathe through the intense kiss. He tugs you closer, your arms having to wrap around his neck as you are pressed chest to chest. He grabs you by the back of your thighs and lifts you slightly, spreading your legs. He slots himself between them, groaning in relief as he rubs his cock through your slippery folds.
He grinds his hips against yours, enjoying the feeling deeply, though it riles him up more to a degree. You can see it on his face that his patience is gone, and he wants nothing more than to finally fuck you, though you can’t say you expected what he did next. He picks you up fully, and you wrap your legs around him to help stay up, though he lifts you easily.
For a moment, you thought he would take you against the wall, but you were surely mistaken.
To your shock, you're quickly lowered to the ground. He hasn’t dropped you, oh no, he would never. He has dropped to his knees without warning, though. He kneels on the ground, his hard cock resting between your stomachs as he shifts your weight onto his thighs instead of in his hands.
Finally, you separate, and you take in a deep breath. Gasping and panting with red, wet lips as you look at him through your lashes. The lack of oxygen was delightful, especially when you know he’d never agree to choking you.
The two of you stare into each other's eyes as you catch your breath for a moment. His right hand finds itself planted on the floor, and his left on your back, supporting you. He shifts forward and carefully places you on the floor of his chamber, where he is no doubt going to fuck the light out of you.
The idea makes your stomach warm and your pussy wetter if that's even possible by this point. Having your king put you in your place by fucking you into the floor where the mud from his boots once lay.
He can see the excitement in you. He doesn’t enjoy the power play the same, but he does enjoy how much you enjoy, the way you twitch in anticipation.
You look up at him in absolute adoration as he sits back on his heels. His jaw is clenched still as he tries his hardest to contain himself, an odd look for someone usually so composed.
He grabs the backs of your knees and presses them to your chest, or rather, as close as they would go. As your spread open for him to see, his eyes drop down, and you are yet again unable to look away from your sopping heat.
You find your face getting even hotter and surely redder. You can see the hunger in his eyes, though you are still slightly self-conscious, as most people would be with such intense staring at a place you yourself don’t ever really see.
He removes his right hand from the back of your leg, letting it drift slightly forward away from your chest without his hand's support.
His now free hand comes to wrap around the base of his throbbing length, still leaking with precum. Your own eyes drift down to take your turn of staring; they trace the veins that run up and down it and linger on its bright red head before lifting back up to meet his gaze.
You find him already looking at you. He shifts closer to you. His other hand comes away from your leg as well and meets the cool ground next to your head. As he leans down to share the intimate moment of his first time inside of you, how he deems fit, as close as possible, he moves on to his forearm and supports his weight there.
You feel his tip press against the skin just below your hole as he guides himself, just feeling his way, eyes never leaving yours. He searches for any sign of hesitation in your eyes as his tip slips through your folds.
He glides it all the way to the top, teasing your clit and watching the way your face twitches slightly, not quite contorting in pleasure. A little bit of a smirk can be seen on his face as he watches you so carefully.
He guides it back down quickly, not willing to deny either of you any longer. He finds your entrance easily and not so easily finds it in himself to pause for a moment. You're confused for a moment as you look into his eyes for explanation.
“I may continue?” he asks upon seeing your brows furrow.
To that, you huff a warm, soft laugh. “Yes, my king”, you say with a smile on your face. You notice his facial expression twitch a little at the way you address him, but he says nothing.
Slowly, he pushes his hips forward and enters you. He takes his time, being careful not to hurt you, as he’s felt your tightness and is well aware of his size compared to you. You both sigh deep sighs of relief, even while only his tip is inside.
You let out a giggle at the fact of what longing did to people. The noise is quickly turned to a small moan as he continues to press in. You watch his own brows furrow and his clenched jaw return as he tries not to rush.
You almost tell him that he can go in faster, but you glance down beforehand and are silenced by the sight of how much there is still left to take. You chew on your lip a little as he steadily continues to enter you, worried if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.
He notices but doesn’t say anything until he sees you glancing down again. “Are you alright, my dearest?” he asks, slowing to almost a complete stop. You nod and roll your hips, signalling him not to slow before you speak.
“I am simply unsure I'll be able to take all of you,” you say, trying to sound almost joking.
“Do not fret, star, if you cannot, I will surely live”, he smiles down at you before pressing the softest of kisses to your lips.
You hum into the kiss and follow just a little as he pulls away. To that, he smiles, and you bite your lips to hide your own. He quickly swoops down again and catches you off guard with another kiss.
This one is not as soft; he presses harder, but not quite hard. You kiss back with passion, trying to see if you can take control of this one. He is quick to put your attempts to shame.
He gives an unexpected thrust of his hips, not entering more than another inch as he does, not wanting to harm you. You can’t help the shocked moan that leaves your lips, and that's when he slips his tongue in. Easily fighting his way in while you're unalert.
You feel him smirk into it as he practically fucks your mouth with his tongue. Saliva drips down your cheeks as he messily makes out with you, knowing it's how you like it.
You whimper into the kiss a little as he starts to reach quite deep inside of you. His smirk widens at that until the hands on his shoulders' nails dig in, and the legs wrapped around his waist kick his back lightly with their heel, and you whimper out loudly in a way that sounds more pained.
He quickly detaches his lips from yours and stops his hips dead in their tracks. He looks at you with deep concern, along with a little bit of guilt already. You swallow thickly, trying to find your voice.
You glance down to see how much of him there is left, but he grabs your chin before you can get a good enough look. “It doesn't matter if you can't take the rest; it matters if I'm hurting you,” he says, his voice deep and laced with worry. You nod at his words, taking them in. You were glad he didn't mind, but sex was mutual; you wanted him to have a night just as good as the one you were already having.
“I’m okay, can you just go a little slower for now, please?” you say with a shaking voice, feeling stuffed. In a good way, yes, surely a great way once he starts fucking you properly, but gods were your walls burning from the stretch. He doesn’t move but gives you a look. One that told you he wanted you to promise you were alright before he even moved a millimetre. “I will tell you if I cannot handle it,” you reassure him with honesty in your voice.
He hums softly at that before, as slow as a snail, he resumes his thrust in. You bite your lips and try to keep in any concerning noises or faces.
You swear you can feel it in your stomach now. The burn is delicious, and he’s pushing up against every great spot up there, including one or two you were unaware of 10 minutes ago.
“Gods…” You can’t help but whine out breathlessly.
He stops almost instantly, and you quickly speak. “Keep going- please!" you manage to get out. Your lip gets caught against your teeth yet again, though whines are still heard. You knew you liked some pain, but gods, this was different from anything you had ever felt.
“Are you sure you are alright?” he asks as if your eyes aren’t rolling back. You nod absentmindedly, lost in the feeling. It wasn’t the depth that was the real problem, absolutely not, who knew there were so many great spots so far up there. It was his girth that was gonna get you, parts of you that had never even been grazed before getting stretched so far wasn’t feeling too good.
The pain was nice at first, but now it’s lingering, and you can already tell it’s not going to get better. Perhaps there was a depth that wasn’t meant to be reached. His tip hits a part deep inside you that refuses to stretch and make way for him, your cervix, and you let out a groan at the feeling.
The groan drags on, as it was really starting to turn into just pain and no pleasure. The wind had sufficiently been knocked from your lungs. You can’t speak, and you won’t be able to like this.
A hand comes down to desperately press his hip to tell him to pull out a bit. He listens with haste, though he is careful not to move too quickly for your sake. You gasp as air finds you again. You find yourself relaxing your limbs, unaware of how much tension had found its way into your limbs as he entered.
“Are you alright?” he asks with deep concern in his voice and face.
You nod and hum a yes as you take deep breaths and try to regain your composure. “I don’t think I can take all of you,” you sigh out in disappointment, wishing you could go all the way for him.
“That is quite right,” he says with his hand on your chin, making sure you look at his face and see that he means it. You smile softly, still disappointed but less so.
“How about I re-enter slowly, and you tell me when you have reached your limit?” he proposes. It's a good idea, it's what you were supposed to do in the first place, though he doesn’t mention it, not wanting to sound like he’s scolding you.
Instead, he just phrased it differently and hoped you would listen this time, and you would, how could you not when he asked so gently.
“Yes, please…” You tell him, almost not being able to stand how empty you now feel. His tip sits at your entrance again, and he searches less deeply into your eyes, now having more confidence than the first time. He doesn’t make you sir in anticipation, though the look on your face in the few seconds you do is delightful to him.
He slowly starts to push in, and you try to look down at where you meet again. He grabs hold of your chin between his thumb and finger to make you look at him.
“Why do you do that?” he asks. He thinks it’s because you want to make sure you’ve taken enough of him in your eyes before you tell him he’s in the deepest your body will allow with minimal pain.
“To see how deep you are,” you reply with a shaky voice as he slowly buries himself inside you. You know that it's not the whole reason, you just like it? I mean, how big he was had always been a turn on, but something about how small it made you feel watching him try to fit himself in. It just got to you in a different, explain way. It must have shown in your voice or face that wasn’t all of it.
The look he gives you tells you so, his deep gaze pressing you to continue speaking. A quiet moan leaves your mouth as he hits a spot inside you; it interrupts your thinking. You're unsure what to say, but you speak anyway, between the way he was looking at you and the way he felt it was hard to keep anything in.
“I just like it, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” You explain quietly, avoiding his gaze the best you can.
He hums at that as he studies your features; it wasn’t really a hum of approval, you couldn’t tell what it meant if anything. You take in a sharp breath at a pinching feeling inside of you. “Is that too deep?” he asks, and you nod quickly. He begins to slowly pull out a little and stops when a sigh of relief leaves you, a sign that you are no longer in any pain.
“Better?” he asks softly, and all you can do is hum in response and bask in the feeling of perfect fullness. He smiles down at you, enjoying the look on your face, taking the moment to enjoy simply being sheathed by your warmth.
You managed to take a considerable amount, more than he thought he’d get in. You huff out a breathless laugh, and he raises an eyebrow at that. “Took us so long to get here, we may as well have taken the time to go to bed,” you explain, what thought had made you laugh.
Although desperation had not been shown through movement, it still hung in the air over the two of you. There was no other thought on either of your minds than you getting absolutely ruined on his cock, but he didn’t want to hurt you, and you knew better than to try and ask.
“I can surely arrange that if you wish,” he says, realising the tough floor may be hurting you.
Without a thought, you quickly wrap your legs around his waist so he can’t pull out. “Don’t you dare leave me now,” you all but whine, and he smiles at that, not wishing it either but finding the look on your face most agreeable.
“If you wish to be fucked into the cold, hard ground instead of a soft, most welcoming bed, then very well,” he says, making you turn red again simply for his enjoyment.
He begins to move his hips. Tiny movements, barely out and then back in at the exact depth he was in earlier, not an inch deeper. He sighs as he starts to thrust enough for it to feel like anything; his head is tilted up slightly, and his eyes are locked onto the ceiling as he continues to slowly work up his pace.
You find your hands yet again on his toned muscles. They roam up and down, all over his chest and stomach, until they come to rest on his abdomen, as it's way easier to flick your gaze between the sight of him inside you and his beautiful muscles.
A white ring of your slick is already beginning to form on his cock, right where you stop being able to take him. Breathy moan flows out of your lips like water in a stream. Your nails lightly scrape his lower belly as you feel him up. Your eyes look up to admire his face, the pale glow of moonlight, and the warmth of little candle flames illuminate his face for you to see.
There's a slight crease formed between his brows, and his jaw is relaxed but not quite slack. An unmistakable shine of pleasure sits over his face in that ethereal way, that elven way.
A few moments pass as you try to take a photo with your mind before he looks down at you. He has found a good pace, a medium one, bringing just enough pleasure to both of you that if given the time, it could make you come, though you knew it wouldn’t last long.
Once you were used to him, he was going to fuck you fast and hard until your eyes rolled back so hard that you’d swear you had caught a glimpse of the Valar themselves.
Your eyes roam once more, adoration shiny behind your somewhat glossed-over eyes. His eyes, in turn, roam your face too. Lingering on the way the light of the candles and the moon hit your sweat-cloaked skin, and then on how it bounced off the spit on your lips. Though not as kiss bitten anymore, they were still a brighter colour than usual. Then it was your tousled hair that caught his eyes. It was tangled and not as glossy as his and not as vibrantly coloured, and yet he still found it so... beautiful.
You were much unlike his kin; he never thought he could come to like mortals, and here he was, loving one so deeply. He smiles softly at the very human sight beneath him.
His head fell back into a tilt towards the sky again as his eyes closed softly. He quickened his pace slightly and listened to the sounds that filled the room, choosing to hear and feel for a moment.
The warm pleasure of how you hugged from the inside, the squelching click of your wetness, what was now without a doubt his favourite song being sung by you and your calloused hands against his muscles.
Or they felt calloused to him, not forever perfectly pale and smooth all over, your skin slightly rougher compared to elven kings all over and especially where you often found yourself gripping things. Proof you had lived was written all over them, proof you were here, with him, not just the softest dream to ever grace his mind.
He removes a hand from your hip to hold one of your own. His soft fingers roll over yours, sliding down to your palm. Feeling where your skin was most coarse and where it was softest, not taking any preference for which he liked the feel of best, because it was all you. Mortal you. You who he should not have wasted so much time not being as you two were in this moment.
He finds himself beginning to increase the pace again.
A heavenly sound leaves your lips; it’s abrupt and sort of loud. His lips twitch up slightly as the noise blesses his ears. His eyes lock onto yours, and he gives your hand a rather tight squeeze.
You meet his eyes upon the feeling. He begins to quicken his pace again, his hips meeting your rear with a slapping noise.
Quickly, your eyes roll back, and you cannot keep his gaze. Again, that sweet noise leaves your lips, and he feels as though there is no better noise in existence than it.
He thrusts quickly but not so hard; he studies you as he does. Your eyes have fluttered shut, though you keep trying to open them to look at him as your body trembles in pleasure, not allowing you to.
You watch him through almost completely knit lashes when you can. His hair sits beautifully behind his shoulders; there are a few flyaways, something you’d never think you’d see, falling onto his forehead. His skin shimmers slightly with sweat, not nearly as much as you do.
You watch the way his silky hair bounces on his head as he fucks you, and he watches as your dishevelled hair drags along the floor, becoming increasingly more tangled, both with equal amounts of lust and love in your eyes.
Your fingers dig into the back of his hand while his fingers rest gently over your knuckles and the back of your hand. He leans down again, taking the hand interlocked with his and pinning it to the ground next to your head.
He keeps most of his weight on his knees as he continues his now incredibly quick pace to avoid crushing your hand. He looms over you, taking in every micromovement of your face and focusing so hard on every sound you make.
He watches intensely as you arch your back, and a more desperate sound leaves your lips. He can feel you beginning to tighten around him, both with your delicate walls and your legs that still grip his waist tightly.
You tilt your head back as you arch, and he’s not having it. His free hand comes to the back of your neck and pulls you into him. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, and he can feel the vibrations from your moans hum in his mouth.
You try to pull away, but he follows you, and you end up having to push him off. You gasp for air and stutter trying to speak through the intense pleasure. “I’m... gonna-” You manage to get out, though it strained and breathless. His hand lets go of yours and reaches between your bodies.
Before you can properly comprehend what he’s about to do, his fingers are on your clit. “C-c-cum,” you finally finish your sentence, but just barely, as almost the exact second the words leave your mouth, you do cum.
“Cumming!” You moan out your correction as your body spasms beneath him. He wraps both his arms around you as you shake and rests his chin between where your collar bones meet, pressing his smiling face into the column of your throat.
Your hands grab and scratch where they can reach, which all happens to be him, as he continues to take in the beautiful scene before him. His hips keep snapping to meet yours, even the tight squeezing in more places than one, and the wriggling makes it slightly more difficult.
Your moans begin to morph into pants and gasps, so he slows down, not thrusting so harshly or as often. Back to the pace you were at somewhere in the middle of this experience.
Your legs twitch hard around, and your walls spasm the same. You let out a breathy, whiney moan as he keeps going. You tilt your head back down, and he pulls away from your throat. You lock eyes, and he can see the tear marks that run down the side of your face to your hair by your ears, some even going up into your hairline from when your head was thrown back.
He smiles warmly at the sight, and a hand comes up to wipe the wetness away with his thumb. “Poor, sweet thing.” He coos, though his hips don’t stop, even as he watches new tears form at the overstimulation. He kisses you again and whines as he continues.
He pulls back to sit on his knees, and he takes you with him. He has you on his lap now and your hands come to rest on his shoulders as your forearms press against his chest.
He takes a deep breath in as you two settle into the new positions. He has an almost smug look on his face as he looks at you now; it has a very “you don’t know what's coming” air to it. You, in turn, take a few deep breaths to try and slow your heartbeat down the best you can. “Are you alright, meleth nin?” he asks sweetly, though his face doesn’t change.
You're too out of it to notice that he seems to have something planned in his mind. You nod your head and give a small smile.
“Good,” he states simply in response. Too simple. He never did that unless he planned on his actions speaking louder than his words needed to.
But you notice too late, and before you know it, his hips are snapping back up into you. His right arm wraps around your back, pushing your chest to his, so your arms become trapped between the two of you, and his left comes to your hips to move them as he pleases.
You're sure half the castle knows what you're up to by now.
The overstimulation burns inside of you. Every brush of him against those delicate spots hurts so good. His smile widens as he watches your jaw go slack and listens to uncontrollable sounds of pure, near-unbearable pleasure leave you.
If it weren’t for how thoughts seemed to be far and few in your mind, you would be thinking of what the guards must be thinking in this moment, as they can surely hear you howling.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders as hard as they can, and your feet try their best to find the floor, so you push yourself away from him, but with each thrust, they shake with a mind of their own. You are leaning back as far as you can, your eyes on the ceiling in the odd moments you find you can open your eyes. But those moments are even farther and fewer than thoughts. You can’t help but screw your eyes shut as your head feels light and empty.
You just barely hear him groan over the sounds of your own before he speeds up. The noise brings on the distant but comforting thought that he may be close, but that is as quickly wisped away as each thought before, since he started again.
It is almost unbearable now.
His arm leaves your waist, and now both hands grip your hips roughly. He moves you effortlessly in time with his thrust.
“Gods!” You moan, your hips ache from being set so wide for so long, and your back from arching so much. Your muscles twitch and tremble beneath your skin as he keeps brushing against that now rather abused spot inside of you.
“Thranduil, please!” You whine not as loudly as your last plea. He shushes you as he places his forehead against yours to comfort you while his hands remain occupied. His thumbs rub up and down on your hips as his remain tight and his own hips remain relentless.
“You're alright,” he assures you with his brows knit together and small groans slipping past his lips now somewhat regularly.
Your arms wrap around his neck, and you press your tear-stained face into his chest. With your wet cheek now pressed into his chest, he tilts his head back and lets out a deep groan. He's getting close to his own peak, though you're too far gone to notice. You cling to his neck helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier.
He moves with less perfection now, not lifting and bringing you down in exact time with his thrust and not getting that angle he’s grown fond of right each time.
His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to focus his movements. He feels that familiar flutter around him, and an all too gorgeous sound leaves your mouth, and he knows he’s going to bring your soon-to-be-wrecked self to another orgasm.
“Deep breath in,” he says to you with a light tap on the hips to get your attention, and you listen only then, realising you had begun to hold your breath.
You huff out said breath and follow it with a pathetic whine, a noise that could only come from someone as deep in almost unbearable pleasure as you could. You find your fingers grabbing at his hair, his neck and his shoulders interchangeably as your impending orgasms loom over you, trying to prepare yourself for even more than what you're enduring.
His breath has picked up now; you can feel his heart race inside his ribs against your cheek. The feeling of the barely there thud against your cheek and the sound you can scarcely catch is oddly grounding. You feel his chest vibrate against you as he groans.
You squeeze around him involuntarily, and he lets out a soft moan, one that is almost completely drowned out by the sound of your loud moans.
Tears have begun to stream down your face, overstimulation getting the better of you. Your hands find their way to his hips and begin pushing him away the best you can. You're not very strong compared to him, so it’s rather difficult.
“Can’t take it,” you whine and continue to desperately get away from him. He grabs hold of your hips as hard as he can and tries his best to keep going as you try to stop him.
“You can, we both know that,” he says coldly, ignoring your pleas and chasing after his release. You try to argue, but you seem to no longer be able to speak, too close to what you pray is your last orgasm of the night.
Still, however, you keep at your squirm and pushing insistently until his grip falters. You manage to wriggle yourself backwards at the exact moment he was trying to adjust you, and his hands slip from your hips for just a moment.
Finally feeling as though you can breathe, you try to scramble backwards further. His tight grip finds your ankle, and you are dragged along the hard floor back to him.
“You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere.” He says sternly, he sounds angry now, likely because he was so very close when you finally got away, and he does not enjoy being teased.
He flips you onto your stomach, one arm wraps under your hips, and the other comes between your shoulder blades. The left one, the one under your hips, pulls you up and against him. The right, the one on your back, presses on your spine, its hand coming up to grip your hair and press your face into the floor, rather roughly. He half-kneels, half-stands behind you, his left knee planted against the cold ground just as you are, and his right foot placed flat on the ground for leverage.
Without any hesitation, all regards for you may seem like they’ve gone, but rest assured, if he saw any true pain, he would stop for you; he begins to fuck you again. His thrusts are the hardest they’ve ever been. No longer does he aim for the lovely spot inside of you; this is for him now. You keep him from release, and now he will keep you from yours while he takes his back.
No whining or crying will help you now.
He closes his eyes and tilts his head towards the ceiling after a moment. He focuses all he can on his approaching orgasm, listening to the erotic symphony the two of you create, and paying no real mind to your begs. He presses his elbow down between your shoulders hard at any sign of struggle, which is nearly constant, and pulls your hair as roughly as he can without removing his arm from your back.
His grunts and groans get louder as he nears the edge. They begin to get shorter, too, as he begins losing his breath, too focused on how the rest of his body feels.
It seems just as you feel your own orgasm building again, you are rudely met with him burying himself as deep as he can inside of you, now bringing you no pleasure, edging you as you did to him, and pouring his thick seed inside of you.
He thrusts incredibly slowly and shallowly as he cums. You let out a pitiful whine and emphasise it with a kick of your leg at the fact that he edged. Now that you can think clearly, you want him to do it again, to ruin you, fuck you to the point of pain like some wild beast.
You rest against the ground as he presses his forehead to your back. He catches his breath. The side of your face is wet with spit from having drooled while he fucked you against the floor and being dragged through it while he moved your hips and thrusted into you.
He brings his right leg down and his front moulds against your back as he kneels and leans in closer. He presses a soft kiss to your jaw, a stark contrast to how you have just been treated, but reassuring, comforting, nonetheless.
One of your hands reaches behind you to stroke his hair. “You were like some wild demon. It frightened me.” You state simply that your heart rate begins to come down.
He panics now. He worries he did too much, that he really, truly hurt you, that he got lost in it, and if he hadn’t, he would’ve been able to tell your pleas were real and should’ve been listened to.
He is so frightened himself at the thought of frightening you that the words of apology he wishes to tell you won’t come to his tongue. He is very rarely at a loss for words, but now, he surely is. You begin to turn, and he pulls away to permit you to roll over onto your back.
“Do it again.”
A/N thank you so much for reading, and I hope for leaving some appreciation for my work on my birthday xoxo - Gremlin
The wand that sits tightly in your grip feels abnormally heavy, despite its very lightweight material. You stare down your arm as the tip of your wand points at his chest. You’ve been angry before but you’ve never felt a rage quite like this. This is different, the feeling is something that words fail to describe.
The anger within you burns brighter as he sits there and takes it. His eyes staring into yours like he’s sorry. Like he’s the one who’s hurting. Fucking 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚. How 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 he.
“Get the fuck out.”
Your voice steady, and cold. The last time you saw him, you were in tears as he promised he’d come back soon. But now, you have your wand to him, ready to send off whatever spell you see fit.
“You and I both know you’re not actually going to do anything. Hand that over.” His tone is gentle, and quiet. It’s the same tone he’d speak to you with everyday. The voice you once loved so much, now makes you enraged and disgusted.
𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠.
You take a step forward, digging your wand into his chest, causing a small indentation to form on his robes. You’d do it, you’d send a spell off, that’ll show him. Maybe then, he’ll hurt. Hurt like the way you hurt now, the way you’ve been hurting these past three years.
You constantly reminded yourself that you moved on. You met another man, dated him for a while but deep down you knew that no one would ever match up to Severus. The way he held you after a long day of teaching, the way he’d plant kisses on your face every morning to wake you up, the way he’d wrap his arms around you, trapping you in a bear hug, the way he made love to you.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
The anger you’re feeling is fueled at the way he showed up here, made himself comfortable, walked in as if he still owned you.
Your arm began to tremble and you grit your teeth in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears, to keep the hysterics from coming up your throat. Your eyes followed his form as he pushed himself up, standing over you. You used to love that, the way his height would tower over you. He didn’t even push your wand away, or take it, and you know he has the strength to do it. He continued to allow you to hold your only weapon to him.
As you cock your head to look up at him, one of the many things you used to adorn about Severus, is one of the many things you now hate about him. You now 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 about him.
You know you can’t hold out much longer, your grip is faltering, as well as the tough front you’re putting on.
God 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙩.
“Get 𝙤𝙪𝙩.” You say again. The once cold fury you spoke with, is slowly washing away.
“You’re gonna get hurt love. Please, let me.”
Goosebumps form on your skin at the familiar nickname, your heart now beating up the inside of your chest. You could do it, you know. Say the two little words that would end everything right here. He 𝙖𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙙 you, 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 you, like it was easy. As if you never mattered to him. And now, three years later, he’s in your living room, calling you love, and acting as if you weren’t about to kill him the second he walked in.
But like Severus said, we both know you won’t do it, won’t say the words that’ll end his existence. It’s why he’s still here, standing before you, taking his punishment with a brave face and attitude. He knows you don’t have it in you to hurt someone, let alone kill them. You’re too 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙. This side of you is completely foreign to him, but he knows your true self. And knows, that this is all talk.
But Severus, isn’t all that patient.
Severus came to you to explain, to talk to you about how a few days turned into three years. He wanted you to understand that he did this to protect you, to keep you out of harms way. He wants you to know what the Dark Lord was up to, and for you to see why he had done what he did. Severus ignores the tightening of his pants as his cock twitches behind them. It’s been so long since he’d seen you. You’re still as beautiful as before, and for some unknown, strange reason, this display, is turning him on.
He remembers the days you two trained and dueled, how you were too nervous that you’d accidentally hurt him. Severus would reassure you that nothing you did would ever hurt him.
But now, the confidence you have with your wand, 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢, is doing 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 to him.
“Fuck off.” You snap, and something flashes behind Severus’ eyes. You go to move your wand to his head, but Severus is faster. Your hand is now empty as he expertly removed the weapon from you.
“Are you finished?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone continues in monotone as he speaks. You watched as he tossed your wand onto the floor, about ten feet away.
“Go to hell.” You shouted, allowing the anger to flow, consuming every inch of your being. Severus’ mouth contorts into a scowl, and you feel proud. He’s finally showing some sort of emotion, even if it’s something as little as an expression change.
Knowing he’s getting mad, is sparking something within you. It’s egging you on. It’s making you want to continue.
“Why the 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 are you even here? Hm?” You hiss, and he lets out a sigh. He’s becoming impatient.
“I am not here to fight with you. I want you to unders-.’’
“Fuck you, asshole.” You remark. His eyes darken, as he was interrupted and one thing about Severus is he hates being interrupted. But he hates arguing with you even more. Deep down he knows the only way to calm you down.
“𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝.’’ He voiced, his tone dark, biting. A very clear warning evident.
“Oh 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 enough? Calling you an asshole is where you draw the line?” You say through a laugh. You didn’t take his warning, and continued on with your hurtful words, not having a single care anymore.
“Why you little-.” Severus begins before being cut off.
“Little what? Don’t even dare think about calling me any name after the 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩 you 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙.” You voice.
He has no 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.
You shove him, your fists making a faint noise as they came in contact with his hard chest. This action didn’t do anything to him, didn’t even cause him to step back. His impatience and irritation is etching it’s way over his features.
“Fuck you. You 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙜𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 prick.”
A small flicker of pain flashes across his face, his eyes showing the hurt he’s been hiding, seeing how upset you are with him, is 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 him.
You knew that was below the belt, but you didn’t care. You’ve been holding in all this betrayal and pain for three years, and the object of your hate is standing before you. Making it worse.
You’d always imagine the future the two of you would have. Getting married, moving into a small cottage near the beach, having a child, and Severus retiring. To live a life of peace, and happiness.
But now, all you want is him to disappear, to stay gone like he was.
Severus’ breathing was becoming uneven, and you recognized the signs. Severus was getting angry. He was always so good at keeping that side away from you, but there were a few times you’d witness it. He’d come home after tasks and meetings, still pent up with adrenaline and stress and those were the nights your face would be mushed up against the wall or the floor as he fucked his frustrations out into you. These sessions would leave you unsteady, legs weak and wobbly. Your skin covered in red and purple marks from where his lips would latch on. Your voice would come out raspy as your throat would be overused and your holes abused. Severus would hold you tight, planting soft kisses from your head to your feet. Treating you like the princess he saw you as. You understood the stress he’d have of being a double agent, as you were once in that position.
𝘽𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙙.
“Watch it now.” He hissed through gritted teeth. You felt a smirk forming and didn’t try to hide it.
“What are you going to do if I don’t?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. “What the 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 are you going to do?” You spit as you go to shove him again, being stopped as Severus gently gripped your wrists in his hands. This gesture didn’t stop you.
“You think you can come here and act like shits going to be sweet. 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 you. I made a life out of myself. You were gone for three years. Three 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 years Severus.” He let’s go at the sound of his name, taking a step back. You watched as his jaw clenched.
“𝙄. 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙. 𝙊𝙣. So do us both a favor and choke.” You snapped, poison filling your veins as rage came over you.
“𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 you and your disgusting 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 face. 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 whatever excuse you’re going to come up with. I don’t care to hear it.” You spill, the atmosphere fills up with nothing but your rage.
“I never want to see you again! I hate you! I 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞-.”
Before you’re able to finish your distasteful words, your back is now up against the wall. Your breath knocked out of you, and your heads spinning. As you waited for your eyes to un-blur, you feel fingers wrap around your jaw and chin, holding you head steady. Once your eyes have cleared you see Severus’ face, inches from your own. His pupils are blown, and this is the angriest you’ve even seen him.
“I told you to watch it.” He sneers.
“Fuck you.” You say through smushed lips, ignoring his warning for the second time.
“You 𝙖𝙧𝙚 going to listen to me, you brat. I came here to talk, like an adult, but if this is how you want to behave, fine. But you will listen to me.” He says, squeezing your face.
Flashbacks of the times he’s had you pinned to this wall float back into your head, making you feel ashamed at the way your cunt clenches. You push your legs together slightly to hopefully ease the ache you feel in your clit.
But most of all, you hope 𝙝𝙚 doesn’t notice.
𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠.
“I have spent these past three years fixing 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩. To keep not just you, but the entirety of the wizarding world 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚- only to come back and find out you 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣.” His tone softer, but still angry.
“I 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 back, and I heard the 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝.”
“What the fuck are you on about?” Your words came out slurred, from the grip he still held on you.
“You didn’t think I’d heard.” He continues, ignoring the throb coming from his crotch.
“Hearing that you’re out and about, sitting pretty on 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 man’s 𝙖𝙧𝙢. Do you know 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡?” Severus’ tone got louder as his jealously became apparent.
“You left me, remember that. Answer me this then. Why the 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 would I have stayed? You were 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚 Severus. You 𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙 to me.” Severus let go, pushing himself away from the wall and away from you. Watching as he did this, made you burn.
“I was coming back to propose. Be welcomed home by my 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 loving partner. But all I was greeted with was stories about you 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 another man.” He snapped while his back faced you.
“So that gives you the right to be angry with me? As if I’m the one who 𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙨 you something? Don’t be absurd.” You snap, as you readjust against the wall. Resting your head on the dry wall as you made an attempt to restrain yourself.
Severus whirls on you then, slamming his palm against the wall by your head. His spare hand finds your wrists, restraining you before you had a chance to push him again.
“It was all lies. I’m not stupid Severus. Lies after fucking lies. I was probably just a cover for you. All that sweet shit you’ve told me, you didn’t mean any of-.”
Severus’ hand finds your face again, his thumb resting firmly against your chin, enough pressure to keep your eyes on him.
“Don’t you ever.” Severus begins, his grip on your wrists tightening, causing you to gasp. “𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 say that shit to me again.” He says.
You steered your eyes from him, avoiding contact until you were able to push the blush back. You felt the wetness forming between your thighs, and 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙙 he couldn’t pick up on the signs.
It’s 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 and you know it, just like you know that you’re still his.
In a last ditch effort, you bring your knee up, attempting to kick him away. And just like before, he stopped you. Blocking your swing easily. His grip on your hands let up, allowing you to push his hand from your face.
“I meant every word. Every 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 word. I 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 the Dark Lord and came back, for you. Only to hear that you were out, playing 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 house with some piece of shit man.”
No.
“You’re a liar.” Your voice came out smaller than you expected. Your hatred moving from him to yourself as you feel yourself folding, and giving up.
“Get out Severus.” Your face feels hot, knowing that the blush you pushed down earlier has come back, and won.
“𝙉𝙤.”
Severus says as he stalks towards you. His voice rough, and hard. Even after all this time, he’s still as handsome as before. His hair much longer now, and pulled back into a low ponytail. Taking in his features, you swallow back your embarrassment as the ache in your clit worsens.
“Please, get out.” The bite that once contaminated your voice has faded to nothing but a mere memory.
“Or what love?” He questions. His tone cocky yet gentle.
You hands come up to shove him again, and he catches you. A small smirk forming on the corners of his lips.
“Just say it love. Say those words. I know you want too.” Severus chuckles, knowing he’s caught you.
You do nothing but shake your head and look away, hiding the tears that are on the brink of spilling.
Severus knows you. He knows you better then you know yourself. He knows when you’re upset, happy, or angry. Even when you don’t say anything. He knows that if he was to reach into your pants, he’d feel nothing but how wet you are for him.
“Now let me ask 𝙮𝙤𝙪 something.” He mewls into your ear.
“That man you were with, did he treat you the way I treated you? Did he take care of you love? But most of all, did he 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 you the way I did?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.
That was one of your favorite little quirks of his. The way he’d cock his head in a teasing manner. Especially when asking you things. It would be the fastest way to turn you into a puddle.
You shut your eyes tightly. Trying your hardest to bring back the hate you felt when you first saw him in your living room. You had your wand against him, ready to kill him and now look at you. Nothing but a mess, pushed up against the wall.
“You’re calling me a 𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧 among other nasty names when you’re over here soaking wet for me? How does that work 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜? Tell me.” Severus’ lips are by your neck, leaving behind nothing but ghostly traces.
You couldn’t do anything. You’re pinned between a rock and a hard place. You’re left speechless as the truth sinks in. You’re still his, you’ve always been his. Even when you were with that man. Who was he compared to Severus? No body. You lied, you didn’t move on and both of you know it, just like how both of you know, you’re. still. his.
“Was he able to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? Was he able to make you cum?” Severus’ hand toys with the waistband of your pants, causing you to buck your hips towards him. He sneers, and pushes you back against the wall.
His fingers dance around your collarbones and neck, causing a shiver to go up your back. A gasp slips from your lips as you feel his hand slide under your pants and down the front of your panties, groaning as he feels the wetness that’s seeped through the soft fabric.
As the room fills with your gentle moans you think about how much you missed this, missed him. He was correct, the guy you dated for a brief time was nice and all but he didn’t know how to fuck you. He didn’t know how to be rough with you. He wasn’t confident or strong like Severus.
“He didn’t make you this wet, did he?” Severus asked in between the marks he was leaving on your neck. You pants have fallen now, sitting around your ankles as he ran a finger over the fabric that kept your cunt covered. You shook your head in reply.
“Such a whore. He didn’t deserve to be with a whore like you.” He mewled as he pulled your panties down, revealing your slit. The moans that seeped out were pitiful as he pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He shoved one finger, then another, and then a third inside you, working them back and forth as your walls clenched around them. You thrust your hips forward, into him, causing Severus to groan. The sight of you like this, to anybody else made him angry, jealous, and hateful towards the man he’s never met.
Severus always knows when you’re close to an orgasm. The way you writhe against him, how your eyes would squeeze shut, how you’d beg for his cock.
But you’re not getting what you want that easily. Severus is still mad at you.
Right as your orgasm was approaching, he ripped his fingers from you, and you whined at the sudden emptiness. He pulled away from you, holding onto your shoulder gently as he pushed you to the floor. Your cheek is mushed against the carpet as you feel one hand grip your waist, holding you in place. There were no words, no warning, no noise as he pushed his the tip of his cock into you. A loud gasp comes from you as your body learns to take his size again. You hear a chuckle come from behind you.
“Did you forget how to take my cock love?” Severus groaned as his length sank into you. He remembers how tight you were the first time you two had sex, but forgot how warm you were and how his dick would feel strangled from your tightness.
“Did he fuck you this way? Face mashed into the floor with your ass up like the dirty slut you are?” His hands tightening around your hips as he waits for your answer. “N-no.” You stutter out as he pushes another inch into you.
“You’re not deserving of the couch, or the bed for what you said to me. You think I’m going to let that slide just because I love you? No.” He says as he thrusts his full length into you, causing you to cry out at the sudden fullness.
Severus groans as he feels the way your walls hold his cock, just like a piece of a puzzle being put together. He watches as your grab at the rug as he pounds into you.
“Did you really think you could move on from me?” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“N-no, I.” Your words come out in broken sentences as your spot is being massaged roughly by the tip of his cock.
“That’s what” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“You said to me love” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“You said” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“That you hated me” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“That you never wanted” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“To see me again” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“I-so.” You attempt at an apology was cut short.
He’s rocking into you with such purpose, slamming himself as deep as he can into your hole in this position. Severus’ pace picks up and a hand comes forward, grabbing a handful of your hair, and pulling you up so that your back is resting against his torso. The hand that once held your hip is now around your neck. He can feel your orgasm approaching as the grip around your neck firmed. Severus caught on rather quick and his pace slowed again, causing your moans to turn into pathetic whimpers as he denies you again.
“Answer me.” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“Is it true, that you don’t want” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“To see me again?” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“I-lied. I’m so-sorry.” You cried out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you crave for him to go harder.
“You wanted me to get out.” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“That’s what you said to me.” 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩
“I di-didn’t mean it.” Your words muffle as he holds your throat. He pulls himself out, and you push your hips back in a pathetic attempt to cum.
He stands, pulling you with him by your hair as he sits down on the couch.
“𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙚.” He demanded and you straddled his hips. Lowering yourself slowly and it felt like you were being split in half.
Severus held onto your hips, and thrusted roughly once into you. You shrieked as his cock filled you up. You leaned forward to nuzzle your face into his neck.
“No. I want to see your face as you cum around my cock.” He says as he propped you back up.
The room filled with the mixtures of your cries and his groans as you bounced up and down on his thick member.
“Sev-Severus pl-please.” You whined as you felt your orgasm nearing.
“Tell me, tell me what you want love. I’ll give-.” He said through moans, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you forward. Your face meeting his hair.
“Cu-cumming.” You moan turned into a cry as you tried holding it off, not sure if you’ll be denied again.
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Make a mess on me, you’re okay.” He cooed into your ear. His reassurance and praise threw you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as he fucks you through it.
Severus fucks you from below as you ride him, creating a perfect rhythm.
“Used to fuck- my fist to the thought- of you love. 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠.” Severus cuts off as he feels your walls clench around him, another orgasm coming.
Severus can feel his balls tighten as his orgasm approaches.
“I’m never-leaving my love again.” Severus groaned, his thrusts becoming messy. Your eyes roll back as Severus hugs you tighter.
“𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠, I-I’m gonna-.” He groans out as he fills you up, painting your walls white. He slows his pace as the high wears off, pulling you from him so he can look at you.
His hands caress your face, gently pushing your hair out of your eyes. He smiles as he takes in your glossed over pupils, and bright pink cheeks.
“I’m sorry for leaving and I promise to explain it all to you once we’ve both settled. I love you.” He whispers as he massaged your temples. Proper words and sentences fail you and all you’re able to say is
