lee pace #fanfic

Uilwen [Thranduil one shot]

Title: Uilwen

Chapter Number/One-Shot: One Shot

Author: winterheart17

Actor/Non-Actor(AU) Lee/Character: Thranduil

Rating: M

Summary: When mortal Uilwen begs Thranduil to spare the lives of both her and her father, she despairs to find a cold and heartless King that appears to be deaf to her pleas. However, their relationship runs much deeper than that and Uilwen finds herself questioning if one forbidden night of pleasure is indeed enough. But more importantly, is it enough for Thranduil himself? (sorry, I suck at summaries)

Author’s Notes/Warnings: There is explicit sexual content. I’m actually preparing myself for very little notes on this seeing as I generally write Tom Hiddleston fanfiction, so it would mean the world to me if you read it and would take the time to send me some feedback at winterheart17 ! :) But it’s been something that has been playing in my head for a bit, so I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also, dedicated to krimaldonado for she asked for a Lee Pace story months ago (sorry! And this is Thranduil) and ridovera for being such a sweetie pie and of course! The anon who requested a one shot of this man <3

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Hot Chocolate or Dirty Talk

Lee Pace Fan Fiction (quick fic)

by ladywyldfire

18+, nsfw

Inspired by this post:

How about both?

You come home late after a long day at work to find Lee sprawled out asleep on the sofa with the TV on. His filming schedule has been so crazy lately you feel like you hardly ever see him anymore. Tonight was supposed to be a chance for the two of you to finally spend some time together. You sigh and make a cup of hot chocolate for him, but you know he’s been so tired and working so hard, that you don’t want to wake him up.  He looks so peaceful, his long body stretched out on the sofa,  that you just have to curl up next to him. You ease your body alongside his and spread a blanket over both of you. He stirs and tugs you down to lay beside him.  The stubble on his chin rasps against your neck as he says in your ear, “Baby, I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.”  You snuggle in closer to him as arranges you against him and wraps an arm around you.  His voice gets a little deeper and you can feel his warm breath against your ear as he talks.  ”I couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your skin is,” he says and pauses to kiss your neck.  ”I couldn’t stop thinking about how warm and wet you are for me,” he says as he slides as hand down your side.  ”I couldn’t stop thinking about sliding into you and listening to you moan my name,” he says as he grinds his rock hard erection into the back of your thigh. His voice is very deep now and his breath is coming faster as he says, “Baby, I want to bury my face in you and made you scream.  And when I’m done with that, I’m going to pick you up,  wrap your legs around my waist, pin you to that wall over there, and fuck you until you can’t walk.”  You feel him smirk against your neck and they he says, “Or we can just watch TV and drink that hot chocolate.”  

Escape by Night - Chapter 1

A/N: And here it is! Finally. It switches narrative, so I hope it doesn’t get confusing.
HUGE HUGE HUGE THANK YOU AND HUGS to persephone622 for EVERYTHING she’s done. Seriously, this fic wouldn’t be written without her. She’s amazing and all of her writing is amazing, so got an check her out and give her buckets of love. 


“Can you help me with this, please?” I called out to my mother, who was applying her make up a few feet away from me. I almost successfully put my necklace on, until the clasp tangled in my hair from behind. “This damn thing is stuck!”

“Now now, Annie darling. No need to get frustrated.” She placed her small hands on my shoulder and glanced at me through the mirror. “This is as much  your party as it is his.” She referred to my father. I  felt her warm hands on my neck as she slowly unwove the clasp from its confines and released it, fixing the necklace and laying it on my neck.

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The Secret of the Forest - Thranduil x Reader fanfic

Finally I have gotten around to make a nice cover for my ever expanding Thranduil x Reader fanfic The Secret of the Forest. Pictures and edits are all my own, so please don’t copy without permission.

This fanfic is a reader insert, set during the Quest of Erebor. You wake up under a tree in Mirkwood, alone and lost, your memory gone. An enthralling stranger sweeps you off into a most extraordinary adventure. A mysterious world and a romance, bittersweet and beautiful, await you…

Here are links to all the chapters I have written up to now:

Chapter I - Under the Tree

Chapter II - In the Halls of the King

Chapter III - The Banquet

Chapter IV - An Unexpected Ally

Chapter V - Regulations and Revelations

Chapter VI - Memories of the Past

Chapter VII - A Questionable Quest

Chapter VIII - Mayhem in Mirkwood

The entire story can also be found on AO3. Nice comments and kudos are always very welcome :).

I hope you all enjoy your time in the Woodland Realm with majestic and gorgeous Thranduil :)

Prom Night with Legolas
  • Me: *goes to Mirkwood to pick up Legolas cos he's a special snowflake*
  • Me: *le enters Mirkwood*
  • Thranduil: *suddenly emerged from the shadows* so you're the mortal who'll be taking my precious flower to the prom
  • Me: ...y-yes (uh-oh, he's a million times more fab than Lego, shit I know where this is going)
  • Legolas: *enters* hi!
  • Me: ...um, you're a REALLY nice elf, Legolas *proceeds to friendzone poor old Leggy*
  • Me (to Thranduil): so I hear you're a single dad...*tries to flirt with Elven king*
  • Thranduil: DID YOU JUST DITCH MY PRECIOUS SILK FLOWER *eyebrows intensify*
  • Me: oh shit
  • Me: better run
  • Me: *google maps 'Dale' to get to Bard residence*
  • Me, at Bard's: I'm good with kids...let me nurture your dic- err I mean, kids
  • Bard: soz I'm boning Thrandy
  • Me:
The Valkyrie- Chapter 1

“No need to look so menacing, sweetheart.” Loki murmured in your ear. “This is the elven king I am treating with, not a horde of orcs.”

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the tingles down your spine.

The flush on your cheeks, the quickening of your breath. There was nothing that made a Valkyrie’s blood run hotter than the prospect of danger.

He had insisted on your company this night. For protection, he claimed. The Mirkwood elves were lean, war-hardened creatures with wild, dangerous temperaments. A valuable asset in Loki’s quest in gaining his rightful place as king and ruler of Asgard. But it was yet to be determined whether the king of the Woodland Realm was ally or adversary.

The elven procession was approaching, and the last thing you needed was to be distracted by his throaty sensuality, the electrifying warmth of his close proximity. You pulled from him in annoyance, adrenaline rushing. You had to focus.

The elven king strode forward in his brocade robes, hair cascading down his shoulders like a silver waterfall. He eyed Loki with a cool disdain, his nose upturned.


Loki gave him a charming grin and bowed, half mockingly. “Thranduil.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, looking hard at the Asgardian. Then his gaze fell on you.

You had not expected to see fire in the piercing blue. He tilted his head ever the so slightly. Suddenly a red-haired elf by him leapt towards Loki, silver blade flashing.


You blocked her sword with your twin daggers, inches from Loki’s face. You could hear the pounding of your heart, feel the maddening heat racing through you. She ducked as you swiped at her, and kicked your legs from under you. As you fell, you threw a dagger at her face. She knocked it from the air. You used the distraction to slam her in her shins. Her arms were pinned down with your knees, your remaining dagger against her throat. You glared triumphantly up at the elven king. Your breath was ragged now. Your lips were parched, your chest tight and heaving against your breastplate.

A faint smile played on the elven king’s lips. “…Quite a fighter you have protecting your mirage, Loki.”  


You ground your teeth. The bastard. He brought you here not because he couldn’t protect himself, but to watch you burn. And he was enjoying every minute of it.

There was a rush of wind behind you as the mirage vanished. A warm, familiar hand grazed your shoulder. The sensation was almost painful. The real Loki had materialized, wearing his full regalia. Slowly, you released the elf and pulled yourself to your feet, every cell on fire.

“It seems as if elves are not easily deceived by Asgardian magic,” Loki laughed, shrugging. “I am impressed. Although I still don’t know what the fuss is about. I thought we had already reached an agreement.”

“We had. But you have yet to fulfill your side of the bargain.”

“Killing a dragon is no easy task; you know firsthand the dangers of facing such a beast. Surely there is something else I can offer in the meantime for a few thousand men.”

Thranduil was quiet, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to you and stared you dead in the eye. “…The Valkyrie, perhaps?”

Loki narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “I’m afraid the Valkyrie is not mine to give,” he lied smoothly. “She serves me on her own free will.”

“I see,” Thranduil said softly, his gaze lingering as if he were drinking you in. “I will give you time to consider a counter proposal. You and your Valkyrie are welcome to stay in Mirkwood in the meanwhile.”

He turned on his heel, his elven guards following after him deep into to the woods.

“Your rise to my defense was unusually slow tonight,” Loki said gruffly, cupping your chin and tilting it towards him. “You seem…distracted.”

Your senses still simmered from the brush with violence. He was too close, his lips a sensual flick away. His breath was warm on your face, his grasp firm.

“I promised to defend you. I was not aware I was to defend your shadows as well.“

He trailed his fingers down your face. “…I gave you freedom to choose how you serve me. If you’ve chosen to protect me, then protect me.”  

You swallowed a low moan. Stupid hormones. Stupid Loki. 

You swatted his hand away irritably. "Are we heading to Mirkwood?”    

“You’ve but just met the king of elves, and now you’re so anxious to go to Mirkwood,” he said sourly, wrenching his gaze from you.

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine then.” He snapped. “We will go to Laketown first. Watching you fight has me worked up to quite an appetite.”

Loki’s “appetite” tonight was a voluptuous brunette and a lean, spritely red-head. You stood by in silent indifference as he hooked the tavern girls with the slightest crook of his finger, the seductive curve of his smile. How effortlessly the gods enthralled the mortals.

He spirited the four of you to the Halls of the Woodland King, where the elves were expecting your company. The elven guards raised their eyebrows at the humans but said nothing, showing you to the guest quarters.

Once in his room, he threw himself on the plush feather bed and gathered the two giggling women into his arms.

“Such delightful hospitality!” He drawled mockingly, grabbing a pillow. “Silks! Satin! Courtesy of the splendid elven king Thranduil, the only elf in the whole galaxy with a stick permanently up his arse!”

The red-head guffawed too loudly.

“They say a dragon shredded half his face,” the brunette rasped dramatically. “He uses magic to mask his disfigurement.”

“Oooh, battle scars!” Loki snickered. “Is that why you couldn’t take your eyes off him earlier, Valkyrie? He’s just your type!”

“…It’s late. I’ll take my leave.” You said flatly, heading towards the door.

The way he looked at you then, like a storm cloud had swallowed engulfed the sun.

“…You know I brought them here in jest,” He said quietly, the laughter gone from his voice. “Stay, and I will send them away.”

Jest? Spiteful, petty, jealous god. You can play that game too.

“…Good night, my lord,” you muttered, and closed the door.

The Mirkwood guards let you out of the cold stone halls and into the fresh silence of the woods. You leaned over railings of woven branches, overlooking the waterfall, the water crashing down against jagged rocks.

It had been three years since Loki claimed your life-debt. Six months since he began following you with eyes of forlorn longing.

Were he not in exile, he would never have given you a second glance. You knew it was only his loneliness that drove him to you.

A part of you hated him for it. Another part of you secretly yearned.

“It is not safe in these woods alone at night.”

The voice was low, soft as distant thunder. Your hands were on your blades, your breath caught in your throat. It was the elven king, pale under the moonlight like a silver ghost. He leaned against the trunk of a gnarled tree only a few feet away. You did not know how long he had been standing there, watching you.

You should have sensed his presence. How could you not have seen him? The base instinct of fight or flight took hold, adrenaline streaking through you like lightning as it did earlier in the night. Danger, your body purred. Delicious, delightful danger.

“I can fend for myself,” you murmured.

He drew closer. He was very tall. With broad, muscular shoulders and heavy-set chest. There was something very carnal about the way his robe flashed blood orange against blackened silver, and you could not help wonder what sort of man one would find beneath the brocade.

“I have seen for myself how a Valkyrie is a force to be reckoned with. Odin must truly regret having lost one of his finest warriors.”

“He regrets nothing,” you growled, your temper rising at the thought of the tyrannical old buzzard. “If he had his way, I would be burning alive on a pyre. Loki smuggled me from Asgard, before I could be executed.” 

"A Valkyrie’s life spared is her life owed. So you do belong to Loki.”

There was that slight smile again. You could feel him studying you, a tiger eyeing its prey.

"He holds my life-debt. I belong to no one.”

“But you are precious to him.” His words dripped from his lips like honey. “Guard, soldier, assassin. Bound by honor to fight, to kill as commanded by whomever holds your debt.”

You nodded. “To go against the honor of a life-debt is lethal for Valkyries. Our hearts would stop mid-beat should we refuse to kill or defend as ordered.”

“Can a Valkyrie life-debt be transferred?”

The elven king’s expression was unreadable. You bit your lip.

“…Why do you ask?”

There was no mirth behind his smile. “I have a twisted dagger scar that runs between my shoulder blades. A jagged parting gift from one who had, up until then, been my confidant and most trusted bodyguard. I have made many enemies over the years, and I need someone I can trust. Loyalty, like trust, must be earned. But honor…” He took your hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. “Honor is intrinsic. If it is honor that binds you to your god, then I will have that same honor bind you to me.“

Your heart fluttered like a banner in the wind.


Chapter 2

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This fic posted 4/10/16 only on lemonconfessions.tumblr.com . This fic is not posted anywhere else, so please feel free go ahead and report any rip-off posts on FFN and AO3 if you see any <3  

Just Friends

Lee Pace (Baby Pace) Fan Fiction

by ladywyldfire

18+, nsfw, smutty smut

Length: 6125 words (15-20 min. read)

Note:  This is set in 2004, when Lee was 25.  

I walked back into the living room, rubbing my shoulder. The movie on the TV screen was on pause and Lee was sprawled out on my sofa, taking up most of it.  He looked up as I came in and saw me wince as I kneaded at the sore muscles.  

“Is that still bothering you?” he asked, pushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes. When I nodded he sat up and slid the ottoman over in front of him, putting it between those long legs of his.  He patted the cushion invitingly and said, “Come on over and let the master work his magic.”  

I giggled and took a seat in front of him as he pushed play on the remote.  His big hands covered most of my upper back as he began to work the sore muscles in my shoulders.  I hadn’t realized how tense they were, but I was relaxing under his strong and sure strokes.

“You wearing anything under this?” he asked, suddenly tugging at the button front shirt I was wearing.  

I was half stunned by how good his hands felt, so I just mumbled, “Tank top.”  The next thing I knew he was leaning forward, arms around me, unbuttoning my shirt.  I took a deep breath as his hands worked their way down the front of my shirt.  He was careful not to touch my breasts, but even the soft brush of his arms against them as he carefully worked the buttons made my heart race.  I was glad I was facing away from him in the dark so he couldn’t see the blush rising on my cheeks.  

Lee had been one of my best friends forever, since back in high school in Texas. I had known his preferences before he did, but that didn’t stop me from nursing the hugest crush on him.  With his dark hair, grown out long right now, hazel eyes, and chiseled features it certainly wasn’t a shock that I was attracted to him. Oh yeah, and the fact that he was one of the tallest guys I had ever met.  He towered over everyone, including me. His height wasn’t intimidating though, given his gentle nature and all around nice guy personality.     

I had silently bemoaned my luck many times that I had no shot at the most amazing and gorgeous guy I knew.  So I had settled for being his friend instead, which was still pretty awesome because he really was a great person.  Lee was genuinely nice, kind, and caring to everyone around him. He was also a toucher, at least with me. He always sat close to me when we talked and put a hand on my leg or dropped an arm casually around my shoulder. I certainly didn’t object. I had often snuggled up with him under a blanket, and sometimes fallen asleep leaning on his shoulder or with his arm wrapped around me during our movie nights. He was sort of like a giant, cuddly, teddy bear that made you feel safe and loved.  A very good looking, giant, cuddly, teddy bear that made you want to be with him.  But he was oblivious to his good looks and charm, never understanding why people were attracted to him.  Which, of course, made him even more attractive.     

We didn’t see each other much anymore, with his acting career on the rise and me in my last year of college.  He had just finished up filming his first big movie and I had a break from school, so we were trying to play catch up on the last couple years of our lives this weekend. I had been surprised but thrilled to get his call saying that he wanted to come for a visit.

He finally got the last button undone and slid my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. His chin brushed my shoulder for just a moment and I felt the rasp of his stubble and the warmth of his breath against my skin as he tossed my shirt on the floor.  He leaned back against the sofa, put hands back on my shoulders, and started kneading the muscles again.  Without the barrier of fabric between my skin and his I could feel the warmth and softness of his hands.  I sighed and relaxed into his touch.  He moved his hands lower down my back as his thumbs worked a path along my spine.  His hands were so big that his fingertips trailed along my sides as he slid them down my back.  I shivered as he worked them up and down, making sure not to miss a spot.

“Better?”  he asked, his voice gone deep.

“Mmmmm.  Much,” I replied as he tugged me back by my hips to lean against his chest and swung his legs up on either side of me.  Without thinking I dropped one of my hands onto his thigh and felt his leg tense up just a bit. That was odd, he had never minded my hand on his leg before tonight. I was just about to move it when he leaned down and planted a warm lipped kiss on my bare shoulder.  

I shuddered as his hands tightened on my hips and his lips traced a path up my neck. “Lee, what…” I started to stutter out, but he cut me off with a “Shhhh,” whispered in my ear.  He nibbled gently on my earlobe for a moment, then slid his lips back down my neck.  He pulled my hips back a little more, until I was resting fully against him and could feel his hardness pressing against my back.  A surge of white hot desire shot through my body.

He lifted his mouth from my neck and I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him.  “Lee, what are you…” I tried again, but this time his lips on mine cut me off.  He had the most gorgeous, luscious, and amazingly colored lips I had ever seen. I would be lying if I said I never thought about what they would feel like on mine.  It was even better than I had imagined.  His lips were soft and warm as he pressed them against mine, gently teasing my lips with his tongue until I parted them for him. He was an amazing kisser, gentle and passionate at the same time.  I could feel his heart pounding against my back and the ever so slight motion of his hips grinding against mine, pushing his rock hard erection a little harder against me each time.  

“Wait, Lee!  Stop for a minute. Please,”  I managed to gasp out between kisses.  He paused, eyes opening to study my face.  “What’s going on?” I asked him.  He sighed and leaned a little closer to me.  

“I…missed you while I was gone. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”  His voice dropped to a deep rumble as he leaned in and put his mouth close to my ear.  “And I…want you. I want to be with you, ” he whispered. He throbbed slightly against my back at those words.  I shifted back against him and he groaned softly. He pulled his head back and met my shocked gaze.  

I gaped at him for a moment and then gently asked him, “Lee, have you ever been with a woman?”  

He dropped his eyes and shook his head, but then looked back up at me and said softly, “You could…teach me.  Please?”  

He wanted me?  My best friend wanted me to show him what it was like to be with a woman? I had wanted this man since before he was even a man.  I had spent hours curled up in his arms watching movies with never a hint of any physical response from him.  I had often hidden my body’s reaction to his innocent touches because I didn’t want him to stop, even though it was torture for me.  What had changed for him all of a sudden? Would this ruin our friendship? Would it be just one night?  All this flashed through my mind in an instant as I studied his pleading eyes in the flickering light of the long forgotten movie still playing on the TV.  There was no question in mind as I made my decision.  I leaned up and pressed my lips against those gorgeous lips of his again.

He shuddered and I felt him twitch against my back as he gave himself over into my kiss.  This time I was the one chasing his tongue into his mouth and he moaned, but let me stay in control of the kiss.  Hesitantly, he brought his hands up to cup my breasts through my thin tank top.  I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it and my already hard nipples rubbed against his palms as he ran his hands over them. I reached one hand up and buried it in his hair, as he left a trail of hot open mouth kisses down my neck to my shoulder. Suddenly his hands slid down my stomach and he was tugging at the bottom of my shirt.  

“Can I?” he asked, mouth still against my neck.  

“Wait,” I told him as I pushed myself up off him and climbed across the ottoman to stand up.  

“What are you…” he started to ask, but stopped when I pulled the ottoman gently out from under his feet.  I paused for a moment to admire him.  The movie had finished playing at some point leaving the room lit in the soft glow of the empty TV screen. Lee was slouched down on the sofa, eyes dark, cheeks flushed, hair tousled and hanging over his heavy eyebrows. The odd light of the TV had erased all his freckles, leaving his skin looking perfectly smooth and unblemished except for the small mole under his eye. He was wearing a black T-shirt, with no overshirt for once, and his favorite, soft, so dark green they were almost black, well worn corduroy pants. He was sporting a rather impressive bulge in those pants as he shifted slightly on the sofa.  He bit his lip and gave me a smoldering look as he watched me move toward him.

I slid slowly onto his lap, with one knee on each side of him, straddling him but not touching him, and rested a hand on each of his broad shoulders.  His hands came up to my hips as I leaned down and claimed his mouth with a kiss.  For this moment, up on my knees above him, I was taller than him, so he had to lean his head back to kiss me.  I tangled one hand in his hair at the top of head and pulled his head back against the sofa as I let my lips trail down his neck to that little patch of hair that grew oddly in the hollow of his throat.  He wore no cologne tonight so I was free to explore his slightly salty warm skin with my lips and tongue and bask in his natural clean scent.  I kissed my way back up to his mouth as his hands slid up inside my shirt.  He was gentle as he explored me with his hands, touching, feeling, teasing me.  Each caress of his fingers sent a bolt of pleasure straight to my core.  Slowly, I lowered myself down on him.  

At the first brush of my hips against his, he shivered.  As I increased the pressure against him, rolling my hips slightly he shuddered.  And when I ground hard against him his entire body jerked.  I kissed him, harder than we had kissed before, and he let out a strangled moan as  I continued to roll my hips against his, feeling how hard he was even though both pairs of our pants.  I ran my hands down his chest, making him gasp as my fingers brushed his nipples through his shirt.  His hands slid down my stomach to tug at the bottom of my shirt again.  

He whispered against my mouth, “Please, can I take this off you now?” I leaned back a little so he could pull my tank top up and over my head. Then he leaned forward and in one smooth motion he pulled his own shirt off and tossed it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor.  He wrapped both arms around me, engulfing me completely, and pulled me against his chest. As our bare skin met we both groaned.  His chest was so warm and his muscles hard against me.  Our lips found each other again and I wrapped my arms around his neck.  His moan against my mouth was the sexiest thing I had ever heard.  

“You are so soft and…” he started to mumble as he dropped his head down and kissed the side of my neck again, while loosening his grip on me.  I arched my back as he kissed my collarbone then trailed his mouth down my breast, finally taking one nipple into his mouth.  He was tentative at first, barely exerting any pressure.  I grabbed the back of his head and twisted my fingers into his hair.  

“Harder,” I half whispered and half moaned.  He complied, first sucking gently and then harder and harder as I moaned and writhed in response.  The coil of anticipation and need was building deep inside me as I ran my free hand down his chest to toy with one of his nipples.  I gave it  an experimental tweak and his mouth faltered on me.  I pinched a little harder and he yelped and bucked his hips hard against me, hands flying down to my hips to hold me against him as his mouth lost all semblance rhythm.  I pulled his head back then untangled my fingers from his hair and dropped my hand to his other nipple.  He was arching his back off the sofa a little bit as I pulled on his delicate flesh.  With each movement of my fingers, his breathing became more ragged and he ground harder against me.  

He started to make the most delicious moaning noises as I pressed my lips to his and then down the side of his neck. This time I didn’t stop. With lips and tongue I traced a path down to the center of his chest and the small patch of hair that grew there and then across to one nipple. I kept working the other nipple with my fingers as I teased him with my tongue then very gently my teeth, finally sucking hard on his nipple.  He was digging his fingers into my hips so hard I was afraid he was going to start leaving bruises and he was almost frantic as he ground against me.  

I finally slid my mouth back to the center of his chest and continued my descent toward his stomach.  I had to pull his hands off my hips so I could slide back further on his lap as I worked my way down.  Eventually I slid to the floor between his knees as I trailed kisses down his stomach to the very slight roll of extra flesh right below his navel. I knew he hated it and was self conscious about it, but I had always loved this little piece of imperfection on his otherwise perfectly sculpted body. Each kiss made his stomach muscles jump and I could feel the throb of anticipation as I brushed his crotch with my chin.  

“Oh my god…baby…” he groaned as I tugged the button on his pants open.  He twitched as my hand brushed against him.  “Oh fuck…” his voice trailed off as I pulled his zipper down revealing the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything under them.  I tugged on his pants and he lifted his hips so I could slide them down a little. As I did, his cock sprang free and I was momentarily distracted. It was big and beautiful, just like the rest of him.  Long, thick, and straight, with just the slightest hint of a vein running up his length.

I was a little nervous, not sure how I would compare to his previous encounters of this type, but I didn’t want to stop now.  I looked up to find him watching me as I wrapped my hand around him.  When I touched him, his hips jerked and he fisted his hands into the sofa cushions. His skin was velvety soft and he pulsed in my hand as I stroked him a few times.  He watched, mesmerized, as I licked my lips and then ran my tongue along the underside of his shaft from where my hand gripped him towards the tip. He shuddered as I swirled my tongue around his tip and then slowly slid my mouth over his length.  I looked up at him to find him panting for breath, hands locked on the sofa cushions  His eyes were on still  me, watching as I took him in a little deeper with each motion of my head.  

“Oh god…baby…fuck…your mouth…shit…” Every profanity I knew was pouring out of Lee’s mouth as he bumped into the back of my throat.  I had to take a breath, so I slowly slid my mouth back up him.  I took a deep breath and prepared to take him in again, but he grabbed my head and stopped me.  “I don’t want…I mean…if you don’t stop…I can’t…”  he stumbled over his words as he tried to catch his breath.  “I want…to be with you…inside you,”  he almost begged me.

“You will be, baby, I promise.  But I want to do this.  Please Lee.  I’ve wanted to do this for so long.  Don’t make me stop now.” My words rushed out in a jumble as he studied my face.  He swallowed hard, then released my head and leaned back against the sofa again.  

This time as soon as my mouth was on him, he started cursing.  Hearing this gentle, sexy, giant use the most vile swear words I had ever heard as I sucked and slid my mouth on him was a huge turn on.  I looked up at him as I slid him all the way into my mouth and found him watching me again.  “Fuck…baby…that is so hot…” he moaned.  He lifted a hand and then set it down on the sofa again.  I pulled his hand off the sofa and put it on my head, giving him permission.  He cradled my head gently and I let him guide my mouth on him. It only took a minute or so for me to feel the telltale twitch and then he gushed hot into my throat.  He continued to swear between gasps of breath until he finished and I released him.  I planted a kiss right on his tip and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and twitch from his still hard cock.  

I stood up in front of him and stretched.  He sat up a bit on the sofa, adjusted his pants, and pulled me toward him, wrapping me in his long arms while he caught his breath.  The stubble on his chin prickled against my naked skin as he looked up at me.  “That was…you are…”  he struggled for words for a moment.  “Amazing,” he settled on.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked with concern.  

I laughed gently and replied, “Of course not.  I’m not that fragile.” He unwrapped arms from around me and leaned back,giving me that smoldering gaze again, but this time followed it up with one of his crooked smiles.  It was a look that oozed sex and promised pleasure.  I had no idea that he could look so sexy and I shivered as he continued to look at me.  

“Good.  Because now it’s your turn,” he said as his hand came up to my hips and he lowered his face to my stomach.  I gasped when I felt his teeth graze my skin as he worked my button open quickly with his mouth.  Using one hand, he held the top of my pants steady as he gripped my zipper pull in his teeth and slowly slid down my front with his mouth, unzipping my pants as he went.  I shuddered at the warm trail his breath left behind.  Unlike him, I was wearing underwear and fortunately I had chosen a pretty lacy pair of panties this morning when I got dressed.  He pushed the front of my pants open a little wider and traced the pattern of the lace with one finger as he ran his lips along the elastic at the top in a series of kisses.  

“Ummm,” he made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat.  “You smell good,” he said softly,  his breath hot against my hip.  I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.  No man had ever told me I smelled good before, at least not with his face where Lee currently had his face.  I could barely breathe as he began to slowly work my pants down over my hips.  There was a fire raging between my legs and I was sure that by the time he got my pants off my panties would either be melted or soaked.  Or maybe both.  He continued to slowly slide my pants down, helping me to step out of them until I stood before him in only my panties.  Then he leaned back to look at me.  

“You are so beautiful.  All soft and warm and curves,” he said wonderingly.  He tugged me closer to him and planted a soft kiss just below my navel.  He paused for just a moment then suddenly stood up and lifted me into his arms.  He carried me to my bedroom and deposited me gently on my feet by the edge of my bed.  He leaned down to kiss me, the difference in our heights making it a little challenging.  He still had his pants on but he hadn’t bothered to button or zip them and they had fallen down a little as he carried me.  I could feel him brushing against my stomach as he pulled me close to him and slid his hands down my back to toy with the elastic of my panties.  

“Time to take these off?”  he asked me huskily between kisses.  I didn’t trust myself to speak.  I could only nod as he put a hand on each of my hips and slowly slid my panties down.  He pushed me gently down to sit on the bed in front of him then he dropped down on his knees in front of me.  He slowly pushed my legs apart and slid in between them, pulling me close to him. I was shaking with desire as he wrapped one arm around me and kissed me.  His mouth was gentle on mine, but the feel of his body between my legs was driving me crazy.  He shifted a bit, tugging his pants down with his free hand and suddenly I could feel his hardness pressing hot against my center.  I gasped and almost involuntarily started sliding my hips against him.  

I had known Lee long enough be able to tell when he was nervous.  And he was nervous now, shaking slightly against me as he kissed me, but at the same time I could tell how much he wanted this. His hard cock pressing against me was proof enough of that.  What I had done to him earlier had taken the edge off his desire maybe, but he was definitely ready for more.  He eased his body back from mine and started tracing a path up the inside of my leg with his hand.

“You are so wet,” he gasped against my mouth as his fingers slid up to touch me for the first time. I was so focused on his hand that I couldn’t even respond. Lee’s fingers moved achingly slow as he gently explored me.  I couldn’t contain my moan as he ran a finger across my clit and I was sure he could feel me throb against him.  He dipped a finger down into my wetness and slowly dragged it back up to rub at my swollen nub.  His mouth went still against my mouth, but his breathing sped up as he paid close attention to my reaction to his fingers.  I dug my fingers into his shoulders as he slid a finger inside of me then back out to toy with my clit some more.  I was moaning and writhing against him as he continued his painstaking exploration of my body. Then his mouth was in motion against mine again and his fingers worked me, circling and rubbing.  I could feel the pressure starting to build inside me, but then he changed the way he was touching me and it receded.  I let out a groan of frustration and he grabbed my hand from his shoulder and guided it down to rest over the hand between my legs.

“Show me what to do,” he whispered against my mouth.  I had never had a man not only admit he didn’t know what to do, but also put me in charge of showing him how to touch me.  It was a very intimate and powerful feeling as I began to guide his hand on me.  Where to stroke, where to circle, how hard, and how fast, it was all under my control as I literally felt him learn his way around my body.  It was an extremely sensual experience, but it didn’t last very long.  He was too good of a student and in a few short minutes he no longer needed my guidance.  

I shuddered under his fingers, sliding and circling, teasing and torturing me.  He kissed me all the while, listening to me moan his name against his lips.  He felt the tension building in my body, felt my muscles start to tighten as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.  

Then suddenly his hand was gone, sliding back down my thigh as he pulled back from me, beginning to kiss a path down the side of my neck.  I whimpered at the loss of sensation and felt his lips curl into a smirk against my shoulder as he kissed lower and lower.  He cupped one of my breasts with his hand and dropped his mouth down to my nipple.  Each touch of his tongue shot a bolt of throbbing desire through my body until I was aching for him to touch me again.  He worked his way to my other breast as I buried my hands in his hair and twisted it around my fingers.  Then his mouth moved lower, tracing a path down between my breasts and onto my stomach.  He pushed me gently back to lay on the bed as he leaned forward to trail his mouth ever lower.   He traced a pattern on the curve of my stomach just below my navel with his tongue, following each stroke of his tongue with a lavish kiss.  I was literally writhing under his touch as he took his time kissing and licking all the way down until he reached my center.  

He paused and breathed in my scent again and then hooked an arm under each of my legs.  He pulled them up and over his broad shoulders and placed a kiss on the inside of one thigh, sliding his mouth all the way up to where my leg joined my body.  There he stopped short and moved his mouth to my other thigh, repeating the action until his mouth hovered above my core. Then finally, ever so gently he ran just the tip of his tongue from my entrance to my clit.  The pleasure of his mouth was almost blinding in it’s intensity and he moaned against me as I bucked my hips involuntarily into his face.

“Sorry,” I gasped, embarrassed at my response to him.  But it didn’t seem to bother him at all.  His hands came up to gently hold my hips in place as he increased the pressure of his mouth against me, exploring me now with his tongue as he had his fingers earlier.  

“Oh my god, baby” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “You taste so good…”  I almost came undone at those words alone, but then his mouth fastened over my clit and he started to suck.  A bolt of white hot pleasure shot out from where his mouth touched me and my legs started to shake against his shoulders.  I arched my back and pushed my hips against his hands as he held me still  while his tongue worked it’s magic.  I could feel my peak approaching and starting to spiral through my entire body.  

“Oh fuck,  Lee,”  I gasped.  “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop..Lee…don’t you fucking stop..Lee…ohhhh…Lee!”  I wasn’t even sure what I was saying as his mouth pushed me over the edge and the waves of pleasure swept through my body.  I clamped my legs tight around his head as I rode it out, finally pushing his head away from me when I couldn’t stand his touch anymore.  I was drenched in sweat and trying to catch my breath as Lee gently detangled himself from my legs. He took a moment to slide his pants all the way off and then leaned over me to plant a damp kiss on my mouth.  

He gathered me into his arms and gently resettled me on the bed so that we were resting on the pillows together.  He leaned over to kiss me again and I could feel his hardness pressed against my leg.  I wrapped my arms around him and pressed as much of my body as I could against his.   

“You’re shaking, ” he murmured against my mouth between kisses as his arms tightened around me.  

“Gee, I wonder why?”  I muttered back at him before I pushed him over onto his back and swung a leg over him so I was straddling him.  He looked up at me in surprise and then his expression changed as I rubbed myself against him.  

“Are you…I mean…can we…already?”  he gasped as I leaned down to kiss him.  I kissed him hard, my lips demanding against his and he returned it in full, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and battling me for dominance.  It was a good thing his upper body was propped part way up on the pillows, otherwise I don’t think I would have been able to reach his mouth while rolling my hips against his.  I slid back and forth a little on him, like I had done on the sofa earlier, but this time there was no fabric barrier between us.  I was soaking wet and as I slid slowly towards his tip, Lee started making these little gasping noises against my mouth.  

I ran my hand down his chest, stopping momentarily in that patch of hair and then gave his nipples a hard pinch.  His hips came up hard against me, which I was ready for, lifting up and pressing against his tip as I gave his nipples another hard tweak.  He jerked his hips again and the sudden movement made him to start sliding into me ever so slightly.  He moaned and I pressed a little harder against him, letting him slide in a just little deeper.

“Oh fuck…baby please…” he was starting to whimper and beg against my mouth as I let him slide a little deeper then pulled back almost all the way off him.  His body was starting to shake against mine as I teased him.  I sat all the way up to get better leverage on him.  My legs were starting to burn with my efforts and each time I slid off him the head of his cock rubbed against my sensitized flesh, sending little flashes of pleasure through my body.  Lee was writhing and moaning underneath me barely able to stand the slow push and pull back of my body as I rocked back and forth on him.  

Finally I had enough of toying with him  and this time when he strained up toward me I didn’t pull back but pushed down instead.  My pelvis hit his as he slid into me completely.  He stilled for just a moment, gasping, then started slowly rocking against me. I started rolling my hips along with him and he started moaning.  I looked down and took a moment to admire his huge body sprawled under mine.  His stomach muscles flexed as he moved against me and I could see the pattern of freckles on his chest in the dim light of my bedroom.  His hair was damp with sweat and hanging in his eyes as he watched the place where our bodies joined together.  

Without warning he sat up and wrapped both arms around me in a tight embrace.  The change in position made him sink even deeper into me and I gasped as he nudged something inside me. A spot that shot an intense wave of pleasure shooting through my body.  Suddenly he pushed me over, reversing our positions so that he was on top of me.  His mouth found mine as he pulled his hips back and gave an experimental thrust into me.  I gasped not only because he hit that spot again, but also because he had buried himself so deep in me.  He groaned in response and started to thrust into me in earnest.  He seemed to enjoy being in control, but I could tell he was holding back.  

“Harder, Lee,” I urged him as I arched against him digging my nails into his back.  

His breath exploded out of him in a grunt and he growled “I don’t want…to hurt you.”  He picked up the pace and little and allowed himself to thrust a little harder, but not much.  

I scraped my nails down his back as I begged, “Please, Lee. Harder.”  

“You sure?” he gasped as he slammed hard and fast into me, sending a spasm of pleasure through me and making me moan.  

“Just like that, Lee, ohhh..” I trailed off as he thrust so hard into me I lost my breath.  I leaned up and caught his lower lip between my teeth for a moment before his next thrust rocked me so hard that all I could do was throw my head back and moan.  

“Baby…oh fuck…you feel…” Lee started to curse again as he pounded into me again and again.  Each thrust was almost making me see stars and my body started tightening as my climax approached.  He slammed hard into me again and I arched against him and let out a muffled wail as the damn broke and pleasure washed over me.  He felt me spasm and contract around him as he gave a couple more thrusts and let out a feral moan of his own.  I felt him twitch deep inside me and the molten hot gush of his release filled me.  He kept moving, but at a much slower pace as we wound down together, gasping and moaning at the little aftershocks of pleasure running through both of our bodies.  Finally, arms shaking from supporting himself above me, Lee slid out of me then rolled us back over so I was on top of him again. I stretched out on him and leaned up to kiss him gently.  He sighed contentedly against my mouth and then guided my head down to lay on his chest.  He wrapped one arm around me and then slid his other hand into my hair.  His fingers tugged gently on my hair as I listened to his heartbeat.  I could feel myself starting to doze off.  

“Lee, stay with me,” I murmured before I could give in and fall asleep.

“Shhhh. Baby, it’s ok. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” he mumbled back.  

“For how long?”  I asked him.  

I heard his heartbeat speed up as he answered softly, “For as long as you want me.  I’m yours. I always have been, I just didn’t realize it until now.”  

“And I’m yours,” I whispered back.  He wrapped his arms around me a little tighter and kissed the top of my head.  I listened as his heartbeat calmed again and his breathing got a little deeper then I let myself drift off to sleep, safe and warm in his embrace.

New Escape by Night cover! *squee*

iwouldvebeendrake01, the absolutely marvelous, made me a cover for my fic, Escape by Night! Ahhh! 

I cannot believe it. She is full of rainbows and sunshine and I love her so very much. Everyone, please go and check her out, give her bunches of love, and read everything she’s written. Because seriously, this girl is going places. And her kindness is indescribable. Go and love her, because I do. So much. 

Thank you, darling Isabella. Thank you so much. <3 <3 Xx

*Some shameless self promotion is about to take place…*

Escape by Night

In one crowded Masquerade Ball did Annabelle and Aryan run in to each other. Literally. Although their meeting was seemingly coincidental, their fates were intertwined many moons ago. But their destiny was not meant to end pleasantly; Annabelle has a secret that could carry them both to the grave, and Aryan isn’t very far off himself. 

But who’s to say they won’t escape by night? 



Chapter 1

Confetti - a Barduil Birthday ficlet

This is a Thranduil x Bard (modern AU) birthday ficlet for you, Morrigan @moonofmorrigan

I hope you like it and: 

Happy Birthday to you from Thranduil, Bard and me! 

I scribbled this down last night, so I’m sorry for all my possible mistakes. I did not have much time for corrections, but I wanted to write something for you. It is my first Barduil fic ever, but I have to say that those guys were a lot of fun last night ;).

Summary: Thranduil and Bard are throwing a party for their friend and get into an argument over confetti, and it seems that their bickering might rather sooner than later go down the naughty lane. But then there is a knock at the door…

Length: 1.028 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Tolkien’s Middle-earth. I do not make any money with this, this is purely for entertainment.


„Did you bring the confetti?“ Thranduil inquired the minute he saw the distinct shock of dark brown hair emerge from in between the doorframe.

„What? No, I didn’t bring any confetti.“ Bard was taken aback and his face went blank just for an instant as Thranduil’s eyes narrowed in a way that had annoyance clearly written all over them. „I thought you were in charge of that!“

„No, I wasn’t, I am quite sure of that.“ Sweet as honey were the words that left Thranduil’s mouth:  „You knew that this task was appointed to you, Bard Bowman, and to you alone.“

Keep reading


Rating: FLUFF

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Word Count: 1,348

This was inspired by an imagine I saw on the beautiful account of @thereandbackagainimagines :3 I am only new on here but I couldn’t help but write something when I saw this imagine! I hope you like it! Give me feedback? I would sure love to know if you liked it or whatever I could change! Thanks!

( PS: There will not always be this long introduction before every fanfic haha I just thought I would introduce myself ^.^ )

“Why are you becoming so cross with me Thranduil? I do not understand why you become so angered whenever I ask you to allow me one simple trip out into the forest myself! I am a perfectly grown ellith and I am able to care for my own well being!” An argument was becoming quite heated between you and your husband, the ElvenKing of Mirkwood, Thranduil. You had wanted to go and wander the beautiful, peaceful woods of the Greenwood, outside of the borders, but, as usual, he had flatly refused to even entertain the thought. Thus, causing a terrible argument to fall between the two of you.

Thranduil sighed exasperatedly as he pinched the bridge of his slim nose. “I have told you this plenty of times, (y/n). I do not want you going beyond the borders where there are dark things that lurk about, especially not without anyone there to protect you!” His voice was anything but calm and endearing as he laid his crown aside on the stand beside his throne, walking down the stairs to stand before you. His icy gaze was almost condescending when he crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked down his nose at you.

“Then why do you not come with me? We could go together and spend time alone, where you do not have to fret about any of your kingly obligations. Please melamin…I would be forever-“ You were quickly silenced by his vulgar scoff. The king usually had a complexity to always treat others with a patronizing, arrogant attitude; however, he had never been this way with you, his queen.

Turning his broad back to you, the king looked to the side, his blue eyes barely grazing you with their piercing anger. “You know nothing of being a king, or the obligations that follow! How can you say such of things, as if you understand?” You were taken aback by his sudden harsh words and stepped back slightly in disbelief. “You are not going and that is final. Is this understood?” Thranduil ordered in a calmer tone, but none the less firm, as he turned his gaze upon his throne.

Upon hearing his sudden commanding tone and arrogance, a fire welled within you, anger roared through your body and you hands were clenched into tight fists. Glaring daggers into your husband’s back, you huffed. “You cannot stop me! If I wish to go, I will go! I believe I would rather be out in fear of danger than being in fear of you speaking to me the way you are! You may be a king, but I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way!” You retorted harshly and crossed your own arms across your chest, mimicking his body language. The prideful stance you held was quickly broken as you saw your husband turn toward you, his eyes flaring with rage and astonishment that you would even dare speak to him this way.

“You will do as I say!” He barked in your face, his voice sounding more worried and fearful than anything else. “I will not have you risking your life for something as simple and juvenile as this! You will not go against my orders!” You were almost enraged by his offensive nature until you saw the deep rooting decay of his cheek slowly beginning to show. The usual beautiful, porcelain skin of the king’s left cheek and above his eye rotted away to show just the tendons and muscles, the icy blue of his eye fading into a white that haunted his features. This awful scar that he loathed so much, that he tried so hard to hide from everyone, even you, showed so quickly at the peak of his rage and you felt each inch of anger melt away from your heart at the sorrowful sight.

“Meleth…” You whispered softly in a shaky tone as you covered your mouth, tears beginning to brim your widened eyes. Collapsing in tears, your arms found themselves around his strong body, burying your face into his chest.

Thranduil stiffened significantly at your sudden actions. “M-Melamin..?” His voice was stuttering in confusion as he looked down at you hugging him so tightly. “What are you doing? Were we not just in the midst of a disagreement?” He asked curiously, his anger fading slowly from the feeling of your warmth spreading through him.

Tears were staining your face as you looked up at him in guilt. “Forgive me, Thranduil…I was not aware that this matter was distressing to you…please, meleth, forgive me for upsetting you so much.” Your voice was a shaking mess of guilt and shame at just the thought of ever causing your king, let alone the love of your life, so much pain.

“A'maelamin (my beloved).”  You heard sweetness, warmth, his voice now as his arms went around you, enveloping you into his loving embrace. “Why are you apologizing? You are far from the need of asking forgiveness.” His calm, soft voice spoke kindly to you. “It is I who should apologize…I should never have spoken to you the way I had. You deserve so much more than that. I should have told you, calmly and lovingly why I did not wish for you to leave without my accompanying.” Thranduil’s warm voice confessed to you gently, kissing your head lovingly. “Tolo, Arwenamin. (come, my lady)” He reached around and grabbed both of your hands into his large ones and led you to his throne, sitting down he pulled you into his lap and encircle you into his long arms again. After you had gotten settled and comfortable in his lap, you looked up, seeing Thranduil smiling so warm and loving that it had even reached his eyes. You adored his smile, it was everything to you, he didn’t do it very often but when he did it was sincere and real. “The cause of me reacting the way I had was out of my fear. I fear so greatly of losing you. I fear this so much that it haunts me when I sleep and every waking moment I cannot see that you are, in fact, perfectly safe and unharmed. This is why I love to have you with me every moment that I can. This is why I love to hold you. I fear of your safety. I cannot lose you like I lost Legolas’ mother…” Thranduil’s expression fell to a sorrowful and weak one as he looked away, his strong even voice shaking with fright at the thought of losing you

“My lovely king, you will never lose me. If you wish it of me, I will forever be by you side.” You told him reassuringly, turning his head so you could capture his lips in a gentle kiss. “I was unaware of this fear of yours, darling. Forgive me for being so self-seeking and not thinking of how you may feel. I will not allow it to happen it again.” At this Thranduil smiled once more with a soft chuckle and you felt his warm hand touch your cheek, rubbing his thumb across it gently as he tipped his forehead against yours.

A small tear fell from the King’s eye, “Li melin, (y/n).” Thranduil simply said with so much love in his voice that your heart swelled and you leaned in to kiss his lips again, trying to express at least a fraction of your love for him through this small gesture. After you pulled away, much to your husband’s disapproval, you reached behind him and placed his crown upon his head, a smile crossing your sweet features. The both of you leaned in and rubbed the tips of your noses together gently.

“I will love you forever, my handsome, loving king. This is promise.” And with these words, The ElvenKing enclosed you even tighter within his embrace, resting his head against your shoulder. You both stayed this way for as long as you possibly could, taking pleasure in the love and warmth that emanated from the other.

Enslaved by Kings and Dragons- Mobile Master Post


“Lost traveler, you say.”

The king of Mirkwood smiles kindly down at you, but his gaze is ice. The guard hands him your knapsack, and your heart sinks. You had tried so hard to hide it from the guards before they cornered you deep in the forest. He casually loosens the drawstrings, and scatter the contents of your bag onto the stone floor. Emeralds, rubies, and diamonds clatter down the steps. You swallow hard.

 ”…I can explain-” The guards grab your arms and force you on your knees.

“You have quite the nerve, stealing from me.” He reaches down and retrieves a glittering emerald. “Do you know what I do with thieves?

[Read More]


"Undress me." 

Thranduil’s voice is soft, but his command is not. You take away his empty wine glass, setting it aside in case he chooses to have more. You stand on your tiptoes and gingerly unclasp the brooch at his throat. It is beautiful, heavy and cold in your hand.

Smaug would give a scale from his underbelly for such a treasure.

But you no longer serve Smaug. The King of Mirkwood is your new master now, and he is eyeing you with cool impatience. Hastily, you put the brooch away and begin unbuttoning his tunic with nervous fingers.

[Read More]



The King of Mirkwood hands you a glass of wine. It shimmers under the torchlight, the color of blood and fire. You have had wine before. Thick and sour, served in jewel-encrusted goblets, under the watchful eye of your previous master. You can remember the glare of his bright amber eye as you obediently downed goblet after goblet, until the world swirled red, gold, and black. You would dance for him, his fiery breath against your bare flesh.

[Read More]

FLASHBACK #1         



“Open your mouth.”

Thranduil brushes your lower lip with a glistening grape, and pushes it into your trembling mouth. It bursts, filling you with a gush of tangy sweetness. You are sitting across his lap, leaning against his arm. He twists another grape from the stem, and gently presses it against your mouth with his thumb. His expression is cool, but you see the simmering in his eyes. You part your lips slightly, accidentally flicking his thumb with your tongue. His lips curl into a half smile. He slowly pushes the tip of his thumb into your mouth, feeling the soft wetness of your tongue swirl about him.

[Read More]


A shadow hangs over you. It is one of guilt. Of Desire.

Galadriel’s gaze is piercing, but the King of Greenwood is not fazed. He is used to her prying at his mind like a nosy woodpecker. He takes a slow sip of wine and meets her gaze with an icy one of his own. She smiles slightly.

She clouds your thoughts. She has bewitched you.

“She is none of your business.” He says quietly. “What is it that you want? You did not come all the way to my realm just to play mind games.”

[Read More]


Cumber was waist-deep in the river, his dark hair plastered against his face. Glistening beads of water slid down his broad, muscular chest, leaving trails of silver down his abs. In the light of the setting sun, he was a gleaming god of a man: Ageless, chiseled perfection. He swept his hair from his gold-flecked eyes and caught you staring. He smirked at you. You smirked back.

 ”I’ve told you before. It’s unlady-like to stare.”

[Read More]


Cumber’s head was buried into his arm, pressed against the wall. He hissed through gritted teeth as if he were in pain. His eyes were closed, his body slicked with sweat. His shirt was tossed carelessly on his bed. His trousers were bunched around his ankles.

You bit your lip and smiled to yourself.

[Read More]


Chest pains. The little devil had faked chest pains and deliberately grabbed his hands and pressed them against her. It had been a struggle, but she finally released him. But not before she caught in his expression his painful awareness of her warm softness.

Cumber buried his face into his hands, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his head and loins. A whole day he wasted standing under a waterfall, trying in vain to chill the flame that she had so carelessly ignited. And now it was night. The burning was unabated, and the dull haze that had filled his mind grew thicker by the minute.  

Her teasing could not have come at a worse time. The full moon was out, and the beast within would overtake him tonight. Smaug was a sick opportunist, and it would take advantage of his weakness. He was not certain if he had the strength to stop it.

[Read More]


“What sort of barbarians are the Mirkwood elves that we keep prisoners as slaves?”

Legolas is leaning in the doorway with a scowl on his face. Thranduil turns from his maps and arches an eyebrow.

“…That ship has sailed months ago.”

“Then unsail it. Send her back to her people.”

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Cumber’s fingernails dug into her flesh as he pounded into her with the madness of a thousand sleepless nights.

Cumber… From her slick, swollen lips his name was a fervent command he could not disobey, a breath of sweet oxygen stoking the embers of his desire to feverish new heights. She moved with him, her heart-shaped ass slapping viciously against his thighs as she welcomed him deeper with every thrust, every grind.

Love me, Cumber…

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You rage against the darkness, fighting with the very fiber of your being as it drags you through the woods towards the oldest tree in the forest. Leaves and branches whip at your face; your arms are scratched and raw. But it is the guilt that eats away at you and leaves you cold and aching. The axe in your hand is blunt and unwieldy, the crude handiwork of orc. The darkness had you pry it from the carcass of a rotting spider, knowing that magic alone cannot pierce the ancient bark that houses what it desires above all else.

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Such sadness for one so young, it whispered in your mind. I can feel your heartbreak through your fingertips.

You stared deep into Cumber’s crystal, mesmerized. The beautiful, smoky sphere was perfectly smooth and warm to the touch. Sweet, hazy numbness tingled through your fingers and rolled through you like a shimmering mist. You welcomed it, letting it draw your pain from your heart like one would draw venom from a wound.

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Thranduil feels the axe slam into his side. The dull pain knocks the breath from his lungs and he staggers against his bookcase. Who dares put an axe to his tree, in his forest? Blind rage is quickly replaced by chilling suspicion.

It is not just any tree that groans under the gouge of the axe. This tree is dear to him. Precious. He had cast the ward over it himself.

There can only be one reason why someone would put an axe to the mother of all oaks in his forest.

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Cumbersmaug was the runt of the litter, hovering between sleep and awake in the warmth of his jewel-encrusted egg while his brothers and sisters breathed little rings of flame playfully at each other. They had hatched weeks ago, hanging off their mother’s long, slender neck excitedly while they waited for their baby brother to finally come out and play.

Gold and silver await you, my little Cumbersmaug, his mother whispered lovingly in firesong, curling her tail about him. A world of treasures await you in this wide, wide world.

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The night she broke into his treasure room, the eternity Thranduil had resigned himself to fell away. His heart seized. His soul sang like he had been doused in starlight. He heard himself speak, but he barely knew what he said. From the soft blush of her cheeks, the nervous flick of the tongue across perfect, pink lips, the shiver of pinpricks dancing across her arms, he knew she was meant to be his.

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Your Master’s passion was fire, his will cold, unyielding iron. Ambition burned brilliant red in his eyes; he took what he desired with brutality, sapping the very essence of what made something precious and grinding it beneath his heel when he was sated. He cared not what you were. Who you were. If you had a purpose, he would use you. If not, you were not worth keeping alive.

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Her mouth around his fingers should not have thrilled him like it did, sent butterflies dancing in his chest like it did.

“Touch me,” she breathed, her tongue soft and slick against his fingers. Her eyes were pools of wanton lust.

“…You dare command a king? Must I remind you who is your master?”

Thranduil’s throat was harsh and dry. Her mouth was hot and wet. Her dress fell from her like petals, pooling around her ankles. The flush of wine clung to her skin, running delicate bumps down her graceful limbs. His heart slammed against his ribs beneath the warm pressure of her palms. His entire body hummed as she slid her fingers gently to his shoulders, clasping behind his neck. He choked on his breath as she drew him in, her supple flesh pressed against him like they were cast of the same mold. The ticklish heat of her tongue slowly lapping against edge of his ear, from lobe to sensitive point. He bit his lip so hard he bruised.

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Cumber’s eyes are black and dead, his shoulders hunched forward in harrowing defeat.

Cumber. Smaug. They were one and the same, the two sides of the same fiery coin. All these years, he has been lying to you. The wine, the collar. Everything.

How you had sobbed into his arms, clung to him as a child. He was your protector, your guardian. You remember when he almost drowned saving you when you were caught in undertow of the river you promised never to swim in. The big, warm hands that bandaged your scraped knees, that wiped the tears from your eyes when you cried. They were drenched with the blood of your family.

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A single strand of hair infused in dragonlust, steeped in fire and Anath’s own secret concoction. The very catalyst that spawned the series of inevitable events, a downward spiral that lead to this very moment.

Mirkwood is a wasteland of rubble and ash. Smaug is missing.

And what of Cumber.

Cumber is gripping your shoulders, his haggard face inches from yours, icy blue flame curling like smoke from his lips. His eyes are dead and unseeing, but he senses you all the same. He slams you against the wall, a desperate, wounded beast.

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It should have been his mouth she kissed so urgently, his name falling so desperately from her lips.

As Thranduil watched her, he remembered the cruel suppleness of her flesh. Remembered the intoxicating scent of her, the taste of her. He remembered how perfectly she molded against his flesh, how she trembled beneath his fingertips. How she clenched around him and pulled him into lost oblivion.

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Gnarled branches covered in sickly moss loom over you like outstretched arms. Twisted vines scrape at your boots as you stumble through the depths of Mirkwood. You scarcely know what it is you’re doing. There are thousands of orcs between you and Mount Doom, and if what Anon said is true, the Dark Lord has returned. You have no plan, no idea how you’re going to make it to Mount Doom in one piece. All you know is that Cumber is lost, and you have to bring him back.

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The Brown Lands. The Dead Marshes. Battle Plain. Udun. Isenmouthe. Jagged words on a faded map that do little to capture the vastness of absolute wasteland between you and Mount Doom. You are out of food, and there is nothing but dead bark and poisonous mushrooms in this part of the forest, the evil of Dol Guldur poisoning everything in the vicinity.

You have gone too far to turn back now. You know the elven king still waits for you in his woods; you can feel the pain of his gaze lingering on your skin. But how can you turn back now?  How can you face his love when your heart cannot abandon Cumber? Your heart is raw; you cannot love both. That is not how love works. Yet to choose one over the other would kill you.

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“You think you have won! You think you have won the Dark Lord’s favor!” Anon hisses in your face, flame curling dangerously close and singing your hair. “You are NOTHING! He will grow tired of your shallow soul, your mortal flesh. You shall wither with age, and when he has no use of you, he will throw you to his orcs!”

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Legolas had been a lonely, quiet child. High elf by blood, Silvan elf by upbringing, he was too high-born to be truly accepted by the Silvans, yet too wild to be included in the company of other high elves. Disruptive, his tutors complained to his father. Untameable.

A part of him reveled in the knowledge, that he was not truly so high-born after all. That his mother’s Silvan blood flowed through him, gave him an edge that made other high-borns uncomfortable. And yet another part of him felt that his Silvan blood was what kept his father distant, kept him from connecting as he would have if Legolas were more like him.

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“You have prevailed, Sauron,” Thranduil says slowly, stepping forward. “But it is not her you desire. It is the might of Mirkwood unified with a dragon that you want. Release her, and the might of Mirkwood is yours to command.”

He falls to one knee, and offers his sword to Sauron.  “For her freedom, I pledge my allegiance to you.”

How easily the Elven King submits. You have been preparing for this, haven’t you. To surrender it all. For her.

A cold smile plays on Sauron’s lips as He takes Thranduil’s sword and casts it aside. He draws iron-tipped fingers through Thranduil’s hair, as if caressing a pet. Then He wrenches his head back, eyes gleaming with hungry hellfire.

I see you, Thranduil, Sauron rasps. Beautiful creature filled with vice, with obsession. You of all people know how I savor the corruption of elves.

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Blossom [AU Ned the Piemaker One Shot]

Title: Blossom

Chapter Number/One-Shot: One Shot

Author: winterheart17

Actor/Non-Actor(AU) Lee/Character: AU Ned the Piemaker

Rating: K

Summary: Based on a little thing I thought up yesterday.  Our hero meets the girl of his dreams in a flower shop only to find that he loses his wits and tongue and dissolves into allergic sneezes around her each time.  On the 57th day, out of patience, our heroine finally takes matters into her own hands.  Will something finally blossom between them?

Author’s Notes/Warnings: Wow…I don’t even know what to say about this except I got wonderful comments asking for a one shot so I thought it would be quite uplifting and light-hearted to write something cute. I don’t know why but I envisioned Lee as Ned (physically and adorably) here. It’s quite different from what I normally write, so would be great to hear your thoughts! I hope you like it and that it makes you smile :) tcrobson, something-sunset-colored and of course my lovely soulless anon, dedicated to you lovelies <3

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Thranduil Fan Fiction

by ladywyldfire

18+, eventually nsfw, starts fluffy but ends smutty

Links to previous Chapters:  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Thranduil gazed down at Maderia as they slowly spun to the music.  She looked absolutely stunning.  Her hair was down and loose, finally, curling and tumbling in wild waves down her back, just as he thought it would.  It hung well past her waist and tickled the back of his hand as he pulled her a little closer to him.  His fingers slid smoothly on the fine dark green silk of her dress.  He had no idea that she was going to be dressed like this tonight.  He assumed that her dress would be similar in style to the ones she normally wore, or perhaps even a little more fitted, like the new one she had worn last time he saw her.  But he was sorely mistaken.  This dress was nothing short of amazing on her.  It framed her shoulders, plunging low in the front, and then draping over her body in a way that did little to hide her form.  He had dreamed of her, attired in a similar manner with her hair styled such, the first night they met but the reality of it was somewhat different. The dress was of Elven cut and make, yes, but the woman inside it certainly was not. She filled out the dress in a distinctly non Elven manner that he found extremely distracting.  And she was wearing his jewelry.   

He had recently acquired another piece of jewelry which he someday hoped to present to her as well.  Oddly enough, it appeared exactly as he had dreamed it upon Maderia’s finger, even before he knew he was seeking it.  It was a simple silver band, engraved with a series of runes, that appeared to glow ever so slightly.  But this was no ordinary ring, to be presented simply as a token of love, it would grant the wearer immortality.  Thranduil had paid the exorbitant cost for such an item without a second thought.  After their most recent conversation he was fairly certain that she didn’t feel as though she had to remain alone for the rest of her life grieving her husband’s death.  But he wasn’t certain if she would want the extended life he could offer her.  Or, more importantly, if she would want to spend it with him.  He knew she was attracted to him, but perhaps that was all it was for her, an attraction that would pass with time.  Or perhaps she would chose to be with him, but still want to live out her life as a mortal.  If that was the case, then he would respect her decision, painful as it would be.  He was willing to take that risk for even a moment of happiness with her.  

He had spent most of the evening lost in thought and searching the crowd for Maderia, growing increasingly frustrated as he was unable to locate her.  He had tried to engage in conversation with those seated with him at the high table.  There were kings, queens, and nobility of other realms present, but he had been unable to focus his thoughts on anything other than her.  She had promised him she would attend, but he thought perhaps at the last minute, she had changed her mind and remained alone in her chambers.  Or that perhaps he had offended her with his gift of jewelry.  Maybe it was too soon to declare his intentions.  Perhaps he not given her sufficient time to recover from her grief.  He found it difficult to judge time on a human scale.  His own grieving period for his wife had been significantly longer than the entirety of Maderia’s life.  

While considering all this over several glass of the finest wine, he had finally located her by the flash of red gold hair as she turned her head.   No one else in his Halls had hair that color.  Once he located her he found he was unable to look away from her.  He was pleased to find that she was watching him too and didn’t shy away from meeting his eyes.  Thranduil didn’t recall deciding to get up from the table and asking her to dance, but he found himself across the room with Maderia in his arms before he stopped to think about his actions.  And he realized that there was nowhere else he would rather be or anything else he would rather be doing.  And he cared not what anyone else might think.

He lost track of time as he gazed down into her eyes.  He could have been dancing with her for hours or just minutes, all he knew is that she was here in his arms.  Nothing existed for him that wasn’t her at this moment.  Her back was warm against his hand beneath the silk of her dress as he drew her even closer to him, so close to touching him now.  How he longed to press his lips against hers and feel her body against his own.  He was tired of waiting, tired of hiding how he felt about her.  He wanted nothing more that to take her away from the celebration right now and make her his, forever.  

It was at that moment that he became aware of the murmuring of voices around them.  They weren’t the only couple on the dance floor, but the other dancers were leaving a wide space around them.  He finally broke eye contact with Maderia and took a quick glance around the room.  He discovered they were being watched by almost everyone in attendance.  Those that weren’t actually watching them dance seemed to be engaged in conversation about them.  While it didn’t bother him, when he looked back down at Maderia she was blushing furiously and would barely meet his eyes.  

“My lady, perhaps we have danced enough for the evening.  Would you care to get some fresh air with me?”  he asked her gently.  She nodded gratefully and allowed him to again tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and lead her from the dance floor.  He took her around the edge of the room and out onto to the high balcony that surrounded the Feast Hall.  It was dark and shadowy outside, which would hide them from any casual observers.  They walked slowly toward the edge of the balcony, stopping by the ornately carved railing to look down onto the vast cave complex below them.  Maderia took a deep breath beside him and Thranduil wondered what she was thinking.  He turned slightly to look down on her standing beside him.  He found himself still wanting to kiss her.  Perhaps the wine he had consumed this evening was making him bolder than normal, but he felt his heart start to race as he considered doing that very thing.  

She looked up at him then and said shyly, “Thank you for the jewelry, it’s beautiful.”  

“You are very welcome, my lady. I’m pleased that you like it and that you chose to wear it this evening,” he replied.  

“May I ask you a question?” she asked a bit uncertainly.   

“Of course.  You may ask me anything you wish,” he answered.

She took another deep breath and then said quickly, “Is there a significance to this gift?”  It was Thranduil’s turn to take a deep breath before he answered.  He studied her face for a moment, wishing he could see her more clearly in the dim light.

“Only if you want there to be, my lady.  I gave it in friendship, but with a hope that you might…”  he trailed off as her expression changed at his words.  If ever a look was an invitation to a kiss, this was it and he could resist no longer.  He leaned down towards her, watching her eyes widen and then slip closed at the last moment.  Then he ever so gently touched his lips to hers.  Her lips were soft and warm against his and sent the blood racing through his body.  It was a chaste kiss, just a simple press of lips against lips, but filled with passion and longing.  Neither of them attempted to take it any further.  For now, it was enough.  A declaration of the feelings they had been denying since that first night they met, after that wild ride through the forest together.  

Thranduil gently ended the kiss and stood up to his full height again.  Maderia still had her hand in the crook of his elbow and it reminded him of the very first dream he had of her on the evening they had met.  How the heat from her hand had shot through him, inflaming his entire body, just like now.  

“I dream about you,” he said suddenly, surprising himself.

“You…what?”  she asked.  

“I dream about you,” he repeated.  “Since the day I met you, I’ve been dreaming about you.”

“I dream about you, too,” she said softly and in the dim light it was hard to tell, but he thought she was blushing.  “What do you dream about me?”

“Kissing you.  Touching you.  Making love to you,”  he confessed without thinking.  He realized what he had said a moment later and was horrified.  This was why he never drank even a drop of wine around her.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself and he had proved it by blurting out the fact that he had erotic dreams about her.  He closed his eyes in frustration with himself and was shocked to feel the hesitant touch of her fingertips on his cheek, just below the curve of his crown.  He kept his eyes closed as she traced the line of his jaw and then drew one finger across his lower lip in the gentlest of touches.  His lips parted involuntarily and he let out a sigh against her finger.  Her touch awoke a fire inside him and all he could do for the moment was simply stand and breathe.  Her hand trailed over his chin and then down his neck until it reached the collar of his robe and tugged on it.  His eyes flew open to meet hers and he was surprised to see the passion burning in them.  She tugged again on his collar and he leaned down toward her.

“I dream the same things about you,” she whispered and then she leaned up and kissed him, lips hungry against his.  Her hand tightened on the collar of his robe as if to keep him from escaping from her.  Suddenly his arms were around her and she was pressed against his body.  Somehow she had gotten her other hand into the hair at the back of his head and was tugging gently on it as she sucked at his lower lip.  Then her mouth opened under his and his tongue was teasing hers.  She tasted sweet, of wine and herself, and Thranduil didn’t think he would ever get enough of her.  He pressed himself tighter against her as he kissed her again and again.  And she was pressing back, skin warm and breasts soft against him, not shying away from the hardness that he was sure she could feel against her stomach.  He was throbbing now, aching to be with her, to be possessed by her.  He couldn’t recall ever wanting another as much as he wanted her now.  He yearned to touch her, to hold her, to push himself into her and never stop.  

But, he knew he had to stop.  Perhaps she could carry this through to completion without it meaning a lifelong commitment, but he knew that he couldn’t.  With a huge amount of reluctance, he broke the kiss and stood up to his full height again.  He didn’t unwrap his arms from around her, though.  She let her hand slide from his hair and let go of the front of his robe, then wrapped her arms around his waist instead and leaned against him, resting her head against his chest.   He took a ragged breath, trying to calm the clamoring of his body and the racing of his heart as they simply stood and held each other.  

Chapter 14

The Throne Room (Thranduil Smutty Oneshot)

So this is a smutty Oneshot based on what an anon requested me do where Thranduil and his queen are making love on the royal throne but then, well let’s just say there is an unexpected surprise. Enjoy!

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The Valkyrie

You are the Valkyrie. Beautiful, deadly, and bound to Loki, the fallen god of mischief. He would be yours, if you could ever bring yourself to forgive him. Yet there is no resisting the seductive king of Mirkwood, Thranduil, whose might is key to Loki’s ambitions. In this game of lust and war, the stakes have never been higher.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Some deleted lines should stay deleted.

Let’s see if we can start a sh**storm of controversy shall we?  I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that I am the only person in the known universe who doesn’t like the line seen in the picture above, and thinks that PJ was right to cut it.

I think it HORRIBLY oversimplifies what is an incredibly complex set of situations/circumstances and makes Thranduil (even more of) an avaricious ass - just as he is - bottom line - portrayed in the script of the movie adaptation.

Yes there are mitigation, and before I get accused of being a movie hater, no actually I LOVE the movies, I just don’t agree with the way Thranduil has been presented on the surface - though Lee Pace… F***ing perfect!

But hey ho - that’s what Fanfiction is for, right?

A Moment with Joe

Joe MacMillan (Halt and Catch Fire)/ Lee Pace Fan Fiction

by ladywyldfire

18+, nsfw, all that jazz (it’s smut, people)

It was late.  The office was empty.  I thought I was the only one still there. Which was why I was barefoot, with my nylons off, and my hair out of it’s normal french braid.  I was on my way back from the bathroom when I heard a door slam.  Then the heavy tread of boots on the polished floor.  I looked back over my shoulder and saw that it was him.  Joe MacMillan.  Not that he had any idea who I was, but I sure knew who he was.  He was kind of hard to miss.  Not too many guys are almost 6 ½ feet tall, but it wasn’t just his size, he was one of those guys who just took over the room when he was in it.  He looked a little less polished than he normally did too.  His jacket and tie were off, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up and the top couple of buttons were undone.  His brown hair was messed up, like he had been running his hands through it, and he looked tired. He even had the stubble of a beard on his usually clean shaven face.  He had a sheaf of papers in his hand that he was frowning down at as he walked toward me, his heavy eyebrows drawn together with a deep wrinkle forming between them.  

I was frozen watching him, afraid to move and have him notice me staring at him.  So, I was still standing there, like an idiot, when he walked right into me.  I knew he was tall, but I had never had the opportunity to be so close to him before, so I was shocked at the sheer scale of him.  His rib cage hit me square in the upper back and his shoulder bumped me in the back of the head.  He looked up with an expression of annoyance on his face and I was sure he was about to tell me off.  His chest was rock hard and I could feel the bulge of his muscles against my back.  I couldn’t move away from him if I had wanted to, so I just stood there pressed against him.  All I could do was turn my head to the side to look at up at him over my shoulder.  I could feel the muscles in his shoulder flex slightly as my head leaned back against him.  His eyes met mine and his jaw tensed.  His eyes were a gorgeous hazel color, green along the outside with a brown ring around his pupils.  He glared down at me, unblinking.  

I couldn’t look away from him and was half expecting him to shove me out of his way at any moment.  Or ask me what the hell I was doing.  Instead he tossed the sheaf of papers onto a nearby desk with one hand and reached the other hand into the hair on the back of my head and grabbed a fist full of my hair.  The ache of anticipation was already starting to build deep inside me.  I took a deep breath, and caught the faint scent of the expensive cologne that he had probably applied that morning.  He tipped my head further back, pulling it harder against his shoulder as he continued to glare down at me.  He wasn’t hurting me, but I wasn’t going anywhere unless I wanted to rip out a handful of my own hair.  I was starting to breathe faster and I’m not sure what look I had on my face, but he leaned down and dropped an open mouthed kiss on my mouth.   He tasted like coffee and oddly, chocolate.  He was tugging a little harder on my hair now and his lips were hard against mine.  His breathing had become a little uneven as he kissed me.  Suddenly he pulled back, eyes hooded, with his jaw slightly jutting out.

He studied  me for a moment, then his mouth was back against mine, even harder and more demanding this time.  I couldn’t help myself and let out a moan as I felt his tongue against mine.  I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he explored every inch of my mouth.  He still had my head pinned against his shoulder by my hair in his fist, but now his other hand was sliding along my hip, pulling the rest of my body back, tight against his.  His belt buckle was digging into my back about half way up and I could feel his heat and hardness pressing against my lower back.  A matching wetness was growing  between my legs.  His breath was hot in my mouth as our tongues twisted together.  We were both breathing hard now and he was pulling my arm up, over my head, and on to his unoccupied shoulder.  I ran my hand up the back of his neck and buried it in the hair on the back of his head as he ran his hand down my arm and across my collar bone.   Apparently satisfied that I wasn’t going to try to escape, he untangled his fist from my hair and ran that hand down the outside of my other arm to my hip.  

He slid slowly down against my back, spreading his long legs apart so he wasn’t towering over me quite as much.  He broke the kiss and without moving his huge hand off my collarbone, reached up with his thumb and pressed gently against my chin to turn my head  to the front.  He took a ragged breath next to my ear and then trailed a series of hot open mouthed kisses down the side of my neck to my shoulder. His other hand was holding my hip firmly against him as he started grinding his hips slightly against me.  By this point, I was grasping his forearm with my unoccupied hand and breathing heavily as I started moving own hips in rhythm with his, pushing against him as he pushed against me.  His was already as hard as steel and I could feel the fabric of his pants straining as he rocked against me, each time a little harder than the last.  

He was almost gasping for breath as his mouth got harder and hotter against my neck.  The stubble on his face was chafing my skin every so slightly, and I could feel a hint of teeth in the last kiss.  His hand fumbled at the top buttons of my shirt, eager to expose more skin.  I couldn’t hold back another moan as he slid his hand down my leg and started yanking up the knee length skirt I was wearing.  He had enough of my shirt undone to expose my entire shoulder and he was moving along it now, leaving a hot trail behind his mouth.  He finally found the bottom of my skirt and his hand slid up underneath it to caress the skin on the inside of my thigh.  I still had one hand on the back of his head, feeling the muscles in his neck flexing as he kissed back up my shoulder to my neck.  My other hand was still on his arm, urging his hand to move higher up my thigh.  There was an undeniable fire between my legs now.  

The hand on my thigh paused for a moment, as the hand on my collarbone moved back down to the buttons on my shirt.  He undid a couple more buttons to allow him to slip a hand down the front of my shirt and slide it over my breast.  I gasped as he brushed my already hardened nipple with his thumb over the outside of my bra.  He cupped my breast in his large hand and slid a couple of long fingers over the top of my bra and down inside drawing yet another moan from me as he gently pinched at my nipple.  There was no doubt about the teeth grazing my neck now in addition to his tongue.   He was still rolling his hips against me and if possible he had gotten even harder, when suddenly the hand on my thigh was in motion again.  He slid it all the way up and in one motion hooked the top of my panties and gave them a yank downward, so that they slid down my legs to land on the floor.  I stepped out of them with one foot and then his fingers were sliding down between my legs and plunging inside of me.  

At that point, I gave up any pretense of being quiet and started moaning out loud.  His fingers felt amazing as they slid in and out of me.  I started bucking my hips harder, wanting as much contact with his hand as possible.  He slid his other hand out of my shirt and slid it down to my other hip, holding me even tighter to  his body as he continued to grind against my back.  His kisses and now bites to my neck were becoming erratic as he focused his attention on the hand between my legs.  Everytime he slid his fingers out of me, he ran them up and over my clit, making me cry out.  Then he would slide them back down inside of me, reaching deep inside me.  I was so close already and he had barely started touching me.  Suddenly he gave a groan, the first noise I had heard from him, and slid his hand out from under my skirt.

Before I could protest,  he was pulling me around to face him.  He looked down at me for a moment, then lifted me up like I weighed nothing at all.  I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders as he kissed me full on the mouth again, his tongue insistent.  I didn’t even realize we were moving until my back hit the wall.  He hoisted me up even further, pressing me against the wall with his body.  He reached up and with both hands began fumbling with the rest of the buttons on my shirt.  When he couldn’t get the last couple undone quickly enough, he simply gave my shirt a yank and the rest of the buttons went flying.  I had managed to unbutton his shirt while he was working on mine.  I ran my hands over his chest, wondering at the ropey, raised, flesh my fingertips encountered.  Then he was kissing down the side of my neck and I forgot to wonder about it anymore.

His lips traveled down my neck and over my collarbone.  By this point, I was almost incoherent, reduced to nothing but whimpers as his mouth moved even lower, towards the top of my bra.  I had both my hands buried in his hair and was rolling my hips against him as he slid down a bit lower to get access to what he wanted.  One hand was sliding underneath me and starting to fumble with his belt, as his other hand slid the bra strap down my shoulder.  He unceremoniously yanked the front of my bra down, exposing me to him, as he moved his mouth ever lower.  I don’t think I had ever been so turned on in my life.  I was practically dripping and frantically rubbing myself against his stomach as he finally ran his tongue over my nipple.  It was like being on fire and having gasoline dumped on the blaze.  As he teased me with his tongue, sucking gently at first, but then harder and harder on my nipple, I heard the rasp of his zipper and the soft sound of fabric puddling on the floor.

He released my nipple and slid his mouth slowly back up to my mouth and kissed me urgently again.  Then he let my body slide down the front of his until I could feel the tip of him pressed against me.  He stopped, holding me at that point, and pulled his head back to look me in the eyes again.  Whatever he saw in my eyes must have been what he wanted to see, because he started slowly rocking his hips, sliding bit by tiny bit into me.  I was moaning and gasping for breath and he was breathing so hard it was almost a gasp each time he slid a little further into me.  He never broke eye contact with me until he was fully seated inside of me.  With a groan, he pulled almost all the way out, braced his arms on the wall on either side of me,  and then slammed his full length back into me.  We both cried out and he dropped his head onto my shoulder.

He slammed into me again, but I could feel that he was holding back.  I wrapped my legs more firmly around his waist and rolled my hips against him as he thrust into me again and again.  He was gasping and moaning against my shoulder and I didn’t think he would last much longer.   Suddenly he slowed, visibly gaining control of himself, and put a hand on each of my hips.  He pulled my hips toward him, changing the angle and hitting something deep inside me.  I cried out and thrashed my hips, but he wouldn’t let go.  He raised his head from my shoulder, his hair damp and curling with sweat, and looked in my eyes again.  I cried out again as he hit that spot inside me with another thrust of his hips.  His lips found mine again as he set a steady pace.  My legs were starting to shake as the pressure built inside of me.  He could feel it too and his rhythm started to falter a bit as I shook and moaned.  He didn’t let up though, not until he could feel my muscles start to clench around him.  Then he took a deep breath and slammed into me as hard as he could as I screamed.  As the waves of pleasure rushed over me, he gave one final thrust and moan and I felt the hot gush of his release inside of me.  

He let go of my hips and pulled me slightly off the wall so he could wrap his arms around me. He dropped his head to my shoulder again and I rested my head against his damp hair.  We were both breathing hard and it took a few moments to catch our breath as we held each other.  As our heartbeats returned to normal, he lifted his head off my shoulder and kissed me gently.  He had softened inside of me and he shifted gently to slide out, without letting go of me.  He looked at me, almost tenderly, and said in a low voice, “I’m Joe.”  I smiled shyly back at him and said, “I’m Lily.  Nice to meet you.”   


Thranduil Fan Fiction

by ladywyldfire

18+, eventually nsfw, starts fluffy but ends smutty

Links to previous Chapters:  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7

As their mealtime conversation wound down, Thranduil realized that he didn’t want Maderia to leave.  She intrigued him.  She was so unlike anyone he had ever met.  Certainly she practiced a certain restraint and decorum in her behavior toward him, but underneath her quiet exterior he felt that she had a streak of uninhibitedness.  A willingness to take chances and live life to the fullest, which was something he often found lacking in himself.

He watched her as she attempted to tuck a stray lock of hair back into the mass on top of her head.   She was unsuccessful and it fell into her eyes again.  She gave up and tucked it behind her ear instead.  He was fascinated by her hair.  She kept it pinned up in a human style still, even after being among the elves for several months now. He had never seen an elf woman with her hair styled as Maderia wore hers. Most of them wore their hair loose and flowing, or with just the front section pulled back into a series of braids.  But then again he had never seen hair quite as prone to escape as hers was.  It looked on the verge of exploding from it’s confinement at any moment.  He wondered how long it was and if it curled as it had in his dream from the previous night.  

Aside from his physical attraction to her, Thranduil discovered that mentally she was his equal.  She had a quick, if unschooled intelligence, that rivaled his own.  He could tell she was still haunted by her grief, but every so often a shy smile crept out to warm her face.  How he wished that he could help her through that process.  But how could he, given that he was still so deep in it himself?  His son’s departure had reawakened the pain of the loss of his wife so many years ago and only served to illustrate to him how alone he truly was here in his vast hall complex surrounded by his people.

Thranduil rarely spent time with anyone and had truly enjoyed the simple intimacy of sharing a meal with her this evening. It had been so long since anyone sat and spoke to him as anything other than their king.  With Maderia he felt as though he was something more than just the king.  She made him feel alive again.  She made him feel the blood rushing in his veins and the air in his lungs again.  She made him feel things he had not felt in hundreds of years.  But how could he hope to have anything other than a passing few nights with her while his wound healed?  All this passed through his head in a flash as he sat watching her on the other side of the table.  She shivered and he saw his opportunity to spend a few more moments with her, at least for this evening.

“My lady Maderia, are you cold?  Perhaps we should move closer to the fire,” he said indicating the couch pulled up near the hearth.  

She rubbed her arms inside her thin dress and said, “Yes, perhaps that would be wise. I am a bit chilled.”  She rose from the table and moved to stand in front of the fire, holding out her hands to its warmth.

Thranduil watched her for a moment as she studied the fire then rose gracefully from his chair came to stand beside her. They had been seated for most of their interactions and he realized  standing here beside her that, as in his dream, she barely came up to his shoulder.  He was used to being taller than most everyone he encountered, but not used to towering over someone to this extent.  He glanced down at her just as she glanced up at him and their eyes met for a moment before she looked away.  

“My King, the hour grows late.  I should redress your wound and leave you to your rest,” she said softly while continuing to study the fire.  

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied and seated himself on the sofa.  Maderia turned and rummaged in her basket for a moment before coming to sit on the sofa beside him.  His hair had fallen forward to cover his injury again.  As he watched her he told himself he should move his hair out of her way this time.  Yet he longed for her touch and so sat frozen as she lifted her hand and gently, so gently, smoothed the hair behind his ear and out of her way.  As her fingers brushed the edge of his ear, he felt the now familiar surge of desire rush through his body again.  He took a quick breath as she looked at him oddly but he again couldn’t contain the shudder that ran through his body.  

She quickly examined the wound and redressed it. Each touch of her small fingers on his skin sent a shockwave of feeling searing through his body.  When she was finished she rose from the sofa and began placing items back in her basket.

“Shall I return again tomorrow evening to inspect your injury?”  she asked him.

“Please do, Maderia” he replied inclining his head in a gesture of thanks to her.

“Very well.  Good evening, Thranduil,” she replied and gathering her basket she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.  

Chapter 8


Thranduil Fan Fiction

by ladywyldfire

18+, eventually nsfw, starts fluffy but ends smutty

Links to previous Chapters:  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Thranduil continued to sit by the fire after Maderia left his chamber.  He was well and truly fascinated by her now.  And his physical reaction to her was a mystery to him.  Her ministrations to his wound had been a sort of sweet torture. The gentle touch of her hands and the way she had tucked his hair behind his ear had sent the blood racing through his body.  Since she was a human he was certain she didn’t know of the sensitivity of elven ears. Or the effect it had on the body of an elf. Her touch to his ear had sent such a rush of desire through his body that he had been unable to do anything but shudder.  

He shook his head in amazement at himself.  He was nearly 6000 years old and this human woman with a handful of years had captured his attention so thoroughly.  By elven standards, she was still a child, but he knew that humans matured much more quickly.  By the age of 100, when an elf was considered an adult, a human would rarely be alive.  How could he hope to begin to know someone with such a short time here in the mortal realm?  Why, it could take an elf years to even think about approaching another elf, let alone move toward a betrothal and a marriage.  And why was he thinking such things about a woman he had met just a few hours before and a human woman at that?  He shook his head at himself.  Maybe he should relax for a few hours in the resting state that passed as sleep for the elves.  Perhaps that would calm his mind and his body.

Thranduil rose from his chair and moved to the inner chamber of his apartment.  He built up the fire a bit to chase the chill from the room.  Then he changed into a simple loose robe and pulling back the covers, reclined on the immense bed in the corner of the room.  It wasn’t necessary for him to close his eyes to attain the resting state, but he did anyway.  He felt himself drifting away from his body and his mind relaxing into a state of inactivity, while still maintaining his full awareness of the room around him.  He could still hear the crackle of the fire, smell the slight bit of smoke that escaped the hearth, and feel the warmth of the blanket he rested under, yet it was all distant.  He let himself slip deeper into the the resting state, seeking refuge in the simplicity of not having to think or act.  

It was then that he saw her.  Maderia.  But not as he had seen her last here in his chamber, in her somber dark blue dress, with her hair sedately pinned up.  Here in this dream she was attired as an elf woman would be dressed for a formal occasion.  She stood gazing at him, wearing a lavender colored dress of the finest silk that both covered and revealed her figure at the same time.  It swept to the ground and fell behind her in a train.  The sleeves were long and draped into an elegant v shape over her hands.  The neckline of the dress framed her shoulders, drawing attention to the perfection of her skin.  Even covered in freckles it was beautiful and he longed to touch it.  She wore an ornate silver necklace set with dark purple stones around her neck.

But it was her hair that truly caught his attention.  The color remained reddish gold, but it was freed to spill down her back, slightly past her waist, in a cascade of curls and waves. It was utterly unlike the smooth and silky elven hair he was accustomed to seeing on a daily basis. It gave her a somewhat untamed look that was not at all unattractive. She wore a silver circlet atop her mane, set with a single purple gem resting on her forehead.  On one of her fingers she wore a simply engraved band, so silver it appeared almost white, that appeared to glow slightly with it’s own light.  

Thranduil glanced down and found himself similarly attired in formal wear.  He wore a long, light silver, shimmering robe over dark gray velvet pants. They were tucked into supple leather boots of a slightly darker gray that were worked with fanciful designs in silver thread. On his fingers were several rings and he could feel the weight of what he assumed was his ornate silver circlet set with the single white gem on his head.  Not his usual choice for formal dress, but it was a dream after all and they didn’t always make sense.          

He turned his attention back to Maderia.  Her eyes lit up with joy as he approached her and her mouth curved into a smile. He offered her his arm and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.  He marveled at how tiny she was beside him, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. They strolled together through the torch lit tunnels of his Halls. Thranduil found he could think of little other than the feel of her hand on his arm.  Heat seemed to radiate out from her hand to course through his entire body.  

Eventually they made their way to the topmost part of the caverns, where one could glimpse the stars through a crack in the roof.  There were several benches scattered around this particular room meant for the sole purpose of stargazing.  It was to one of these that he lead her.  They sat close together and as she dropped her hand from his arm, he took the opportunity to wrap that arm about her shoulders. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. They found themselves with no need for words, but simply sat and basked in the glow of their love and affection for each other.  He didn’t know how long he remained in the dream with her.  There were no declarations or discussion, just a mutual joy of being together.

When the light of day began to color the sky, he simply bowed his head to her and released himself from the dream state.  He felt calm and rested, yet full of energy and desire.  He hadn’t felt such things in such a long time. Not since his wife had died so many years ago. It was common among elves as they aged to lose their desire for physical forms of intimacy.  It simply diminished over time, replaced by other interests. However, that hadn’t happened to Thranduil.  He had never stopped desiring his wife nor she him.  It had taken her death to quench that fire in him. He had thought he may never rediscover those feelings in himself, but one wild horse ride the previous evening appeared to have restored them. He shook his head at himself.  This was ridiculous.  He felt like a young elf, just discovering the desires of the body all over again.

He began to prepare himself for the day.  He bathed, dressed, and groomed himself.  He took special care to arrange his hair to cover the dressing Maderia had applied along his hairline.  Today was not the day for questions about his state or state of mind.  He went about his tasks with his normal air of indifference.  No one could read his inner turmoil or how often his thoughts strayed, for which he was grateful.  Maderia intruded upon his thoughts at almost every turn.  He found himself thinking not only of her small body in his arms atop his horse, the touch of her hands on his face in the stable, and the unintentional caress of his ear as she tended his wound, but of the feel of her hand on his arm, of how his arm had fit around her body, and how she had leaned against his shoulder in his dream. It felt as though the day would never end, but finally all his tasks for the day were accomplished and he was free to retire to his chambers and await her arrival.  

Chapter 6