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wickednerdery · 4 years

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Ask for Loki: If you saw me flirting slightly with Thor, knowing you are watching, how would you torture me and make me squirm while we are alone together? 😏🔥

You’re playing with fire to even suggest such things, little one, but if you wish to know...

((Added a “Read More” because Loki is explicitly detailed lol...))

Once alone I would suck the voice that dared such sweetness to another straight from your mouth, swallow it down so you’ll not be able to speak until I say. Strip you bare, lay you out across my bed for my viewing pleasure. My scepter will do well to keep your legs apart should you dare to attempt closing them, but your hands I leave free.

I’ll start slow. Soft kisses and gentle touches to arms, legs, ribs, stomach...everywhere but where you might truly enjoy. Only when I hear frustration in your breathing shall I give attention to your breasts. Massaging. Pinching nipples to peaks before taking each into my mouth in turn. Swirling tongue, grazing teeth, with body pressing into you so you might feel the start of my own excitement. When I stop it’s to instruct you to remove my shirt, undo my trousers, before I shove you back onto the bed.

My mouth will continue its journey, indulging my senses in your image, your scent, the taste of your skin. Because you are mine, mine to enjoy. No one else’s. When I reach your mound I will inhale deeply, let cold breath out against that oh-so sensitive nub so that you might flinch at the pleasure, again and again until, yes, you are squirming. I will use my fingers to run along your folds, to spread you wide so I might see that tight little entrance of yours...watch it quiver with the rest of you as I form a second self to attend to your breasts once again.

Only when I can watch you leaking, when you shimmer in your own juices, will I taste you. Long, slow, laps as I allow you your voice only to speak, chant, my name. The slicker you get, the faster I shall move my tongue. Suck and hum over your clit as you writhe. The other self doing the same to each of your nipples as a single hand holds down your wrists in firm grip. No more moving for you, my pet.

I will bring you to your precipice, then I will stop. I will wait until you calm. Then I will start once more. It is only when I cannot restrain myself any longer that I might enter you. Press my tip into your eagerly awaiting hole to release my load before pulling out to finish across your sex, thighs, and stomach.

Then I leave you. Wet and wanting and covered in my cum so those who pass by the open door might know who you truly belong to. This is how punish one such a you, who tempts others rather than praying to her god.

Now tell me, darling @sweetfairy1, if you still wish to flirt with another?

((Woo, y’all, Loki is in a mood, I tell you, lol! That escalated quicker in than I expected, haha! I hope you enjoyed the answer, @sweetfairy1, and bless for the question, it was much appreciated!! Hope anyone else out there reading this also enjoys too, of course!! ^_^))

Want to participate in Loki Takeover Week? Go Here!!

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magicmanias · 4 years

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A Crown of Silver Flowers

Request: “You mentioned requests being open. Here is one. Thranduil. From friends to lovers: 7 “I know, but I want more“ Please 😊” @sweetfairy1

7. “I know, but I want more.”

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Summary: Thranduil seeks one last chance with you before he is too late.

(Occurs before the events of the Hobbit.)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers cliché

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Loth means flower in Sindarin. I FINISHED IT!

Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit // MASTERLIST

There she was beside him, poised and tall on her Fresian stallion. Loose strands of hair dangled under a garland of poppies that sat on her head blowing calmly in the steady afternoon breeze. She looked like a queen and Thranduil imagined a reality where it could be true. He wondered if she'd prefer a crown of silver or flowers.

“Thranduil?”

“Yes, Ioth?” Thranduil watched her more intently. She avoided his gaze, instead directing her attention to the view before them, though she barely noticed it. Her fingers absent-mindedly rooted through her stallion's tangled mane. Thranduil's elk shifted, bringing her back down to earth.

“Would you… Would you ever be angry with me?”

“Angry? I can't fathom an occasion where I would be angry with you,” he answered. She continued to comb through the horse's locks with her fingers. Thranduil watched her hands stroke nervously through the stallion's mane. He knit his brow. Her hands shook. “What is wrong, loth?”

“I'm… My father—he… he has informed me that he was found a suitable match for me.” Thranduil stiffened. He what? “The captain of the guard in Lithlorien. I am to leave Mirkwood by next morning.”

“You're leaving?“ Thranduil unmounted the elk. He couldn't look her in the eye. How could she be leaving? “When is…”

“The… wedding is in two weeks time.” She followed suit and trailed hopelessly behind the young king.

“Do you love him?” Thranduil turned to see her reaction. He was met with wide, teary eyes and a quivering lip.

“Love him?”

“Yes, do you love him?”

“I… I haven't even met him yet.” She looked down to hide her face. Thranduil knew she was crying. He cupped her cheek and swept a thumb to wipe away a tear. Y/N leaned into it and wept more. She didn't love him. “I don't want to go. I'll miss you so much.”

“Stay.” Thranduil tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb. She looked at his icy eyes. She'd never seen the king so… desperate before.

She wiped her eyes and back away from him. “I can't. My father—”

“I don't care what your father says. I am your king, so… I command you to stay.”

The elleth laughed. “Thranduil, my king, I will miss you and your outrageous abuse of power.”

“I would commit treasons across Middle Earth for you,” Thranduil admitted. “Just stay.”

“Oh, that would never end well. What will the people think? A maiden elleth choosing her king before her fiance? It would be rather scandalous.”

“Then we shall run away,” he chuckled. “To another land, far from here.”

“I think that would elicit even more rumors, my king,” she giggled.

The king's voice went quiet, dropping down an octave. “I mean it, Loth. I never want to be apart from you.”

She frowned and took the ellon's hand from her cheek. Once again, she faced the view before her. Perhaps she didn't want to see Thranduil's face when she asked, “Will you come? To the wedding?”

“I… don't think I can.”

There was no need to ask why. There was somewhere deep inside of Y/N that knew the answer. So she didn't ask. She couldn't. If he answered, everything would be ruined. And despite how much she ached to hear her king say those three words to her… it would ruin everything.

“I love you.”

2 Weeks Later

He was… adequate, you supposed. There was nothing wrong with him. Handsome, honorable, fearless, a renowned soldier, and more titles than you could bother to remember. Your father was no obstacle--in fact, he might have adored your fiance more than you tolerated him. When you were given news of your engagement to the ellon, you could not lie and say that you were unimpressed. Your father made him sound like quite the suitor. But the moment he stepped off his white horse and approached you with that cookie cutter smile, the butterflies in your stomach seemed to fall into a deep pit. There really wasn’t anything wrong with him. And yet, every night since then, you couldn't sleep because your head was filled with endless thoughts of running away.

Thranduil had never been so reckless in his life. Battered soldiers lay stiff around him, bruised and near broken at the king’s ill-directed wrath. He heaved and his muscles ached, but he craved to continue. Anger still seeped from his very being, but it seemed all the soldiers were down at his feet or cowering away. He sheathed his sword and stormed away from the scene, leaving the bruised soldiers to pick up after themselves.

He hated her. He hated her like he’d never hated anyone ever in his immortal life. It was a burning, fiery, passionate hatred that made his skin crawl in fury. He wished a lot of things about her. He wished he never set eyes on that infernal elleth. He wished he could scream at her. He wished he could tell her every little horrible emotion he felt toward her. He wished he could take her in his arms and squeeze so tight that she couldn’t breathe. He wished he could be close enough to her to smell her hair. He wished he could touch her skin. He wished to feel her lips upon his. He wished to tell her that he loved her and to hear that she felt the same. He hated her. He hated she didn’t feel the same. He hated that she loved him in a way that was most painful to him. He hated that she was marrying a perfectly suitable ellon that would give her the life he couldn’t. He hated her.

Without her, Thranduil couldn’t breathe, but he might as well give up trying to. Eternal life would be meaningless without her. She was his eternity. Eru, how did it come to this?

You stared at the garnet ring on your finger, mocking you with the future it represented. You contemplated tearing it off and flinging it across the room, but every time you slipped it off just slightly, you knew you’d get up only to find it and place back where it belonged. You sighed and shifted the band around your finger. You much preferred silver over red.

Thranduil stepped into the steaming water of the bath and sunk in. He hoped the water would magically erase his memories of the elleth haunting his every waking moment, but there she was, dancing in his dreams the moment he closed his eyes. Why couldn’t she love him? He tried to hold onto the figment of you dancing with him, but just as all his tainted memories of you transitioned to his nightmare, this one did as well.

2 Weeks Ago

“I wish you hadn't said that.”

“But it's true, Loth. I love you.”

“You're my friend.”

“I know, but I want more,” he said desperately. Thranduil tried to grab her hand but she pulled it away in fear. “I love you, Y/N.“

“I don’t love you, your majesty!“ you screamed back, tears streaming down your cheeks. Thranduil stepped back, rigid and frozen, except for his shattering heart. You wiped your tears quickly, failing to hide them and whimpered. Thranduil’s anger completely disappeared and dismay flooded all his senses. He stepped forward slightly, even more desperate to cling onto you and pretend those words never left your lips.

“Loth…”

“Leave me alone!” She ran away from the heat-broken king. Thranduil could only watch her grow smaller and smaller from his view until she disappeared altogether.

You laid in your bed and stared at the high ceiling. The ring was still wrapped around your hand as you nervously played with it. Tomorrow would pass and your fate would be sealed with an elf you never loved. You allowed your mind to wander aimlessly, hoping to drift to something pleasant to distract you from thoughts of your future husband. Suddenly, you remembered the friend you had been avoiding for so long.

Your silver haired king.

Your heart tugged at the thought of Thranduil. And memories of the last time you saw him ambushed your tired mind. “I don't love you, your majesty!“ You hadn’t meant it.

“Oh Eru.” How could you say those things to him? He probably hated you now, but you didn’t blame him. You hated yourself. The man that was once your closest friend hated you and you would never be able to tell him that you felt the same way he did. Well, the way he used to at least.

You loved him. You’d always loved him. He may have fallen in love with you decades ago, but you’d loved him for centuries. For all that time, you had grown accustomed to a fate of unrequited love, so when he said those things to you… you didn’t know what to do. Being in love with the silver king was a reverie, a fantasy that occupied your dreams at night, but when you awoke, you forced yourself to act like he was no more than your king and your friend. After centuries of pretending you didn’t love him, you had become good at it and the thought that he could love you never even crossed your conscious mind.

It was late, but Thranduil found himself unable to sleep, plagued with thoughts of her. Everything about her crossed his tired mind. Her hair that was never fully neat. The way she carried herself when walking down a path, even when she thought no one was looking. The smile that crept on her lips when it wasn't proper. The sound of her sweet voice when she sang to him in the evenings. The glow that encircled her in the morning. Why was she getting married? He'd really thought she loved him.

Why were you getting married? It made your father so happy and your mother couldn't hold more pride toward her daughter, but why were you doing this? You hadn't even liked the ellon you were marrying, let alone loved him. You were glad it was so late. You were too tired to cry. At least your eyes wouldn't be puffy during the wedding. The dark circles under your eyes would be another problem though. At least Thranduil wouldn't see you like this. Why were you getting married?

Thranduil didn't care if you loved him. He needed to see his friend. She couldn't marry someone she'd only met. Maybe she didn't love him, but he would do everything in his power to prevent her from a life of unhappiness with another ellon. The king marched out of his chambers, ignoring the confused servants in his way. “Alefen, retrieve my stag.”

“But, your majesty—”

“This is urgent. I must leave as soon as possible.”

“Of course, your majesty.”

You had to see him. You couldn't marry that ellon. You loved Thranduil. He may hate you now, but he'd been your friend for so long. Perhaps you could at least save that.

You sprinted out of your room, still in your nightgown, and raced to the stables. Your horse jumped at the sudden sound of your footsteps and shot his gaze up at you.

“Hello,” you whispered gently to the stallion, stroking his black nose. “I know you must be anxious to go out.”

The black steed whinnied in agreement and stomped his hooves into the dirt.

“I'm going to need you to ride like the wind,” you said, still stroking his soft fur. “We're going home.”

Thranduil rode into the forest on the large stag, hearing nothing but the footsteps of the stag and his racing heart. Lithlorien was a day's ride away, but by then Y/N would already be married. Thranduil shook the thought out of his head. He was determined to get there.

“Fly faster,” he told the elk. “Please, as fast as you can.”

Y/N had been riding for an hour. Her stallion ever-loyal had managed to keep a consistent pace, just as desperate to be home as she was. The forest was just coming into view, compelling the horse to pump it's legs even faster.

“Woah, Stygian, my love, slow. You will kill yourself at this pace,” you cooed, pulling gently on his mane. The stallion grunted, but continued to gallop too speed. You winced pulling harder, demanding the horse to slow, but he would not. “Stygian, you must— Ah!”

The stallion stopped still in his tracks and distracted, you did not grip onto him properly, sending you flying into the air. You braced for the hard impact, but you landed much quicker than you anticipated and on much softer group than you expected. Slowly, you opened your eyes and were met with icy blue ones.

“Ah!” You tried to scramble away in fear, but in your struggle you fell once more, this time on actual ground. “Ow!”

Wait, something about those eyes… They were familiar. Icy blue…

“Loth?” a familiar voice called out.

You sat up and looked at the king above you. Your pained face stretched into a smile as you witnessed the silver haired ellon leave the back of the elk and offer a hand to you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, taking his hand and pulling yourself up.

“I could ask you the same, Loth,” he said warmly. He quickly let go of your hand, to your disappointment. You watched silently as he went and brought your spooked horse back over to you.

“I-I came back. I couldn't marry him,” you admitted, your voice echoing in the forest. Thranduil remained silent, silently pleading for you to continue. “I…Thranduil, I… hope you don't hate me.” Perhaps you weren't tired enough, because tears managed to well in your eyes and fall.

“Hate you?” Thranduil repeated. His heart broke at the sight of you. You looked so tired and sad, oh, but you were beautiful all the same. He remembered the anger he felt toward you only just that morning and the weeks prior. No, he didn't hate you. He never did. He was just so tormented. But he couldn't hate you. “No, I don't hate you, Loth.”

“Y-You don't?” you blubber, still crying. You tried in vain to wipe your tears away. “But-But—”

Thranduil moved your hand from your face and wiped your tears from your cheeks and replaced them with his hand, rubbing a thumb in your skin.

“I could never hate you, loth.” He smiled bitterly. “You may not love me, but I will always love you.”

“I love you.”

Thranduil shook his head. “You do not need to spare me my feelings, loth.”

“Its true,” you insisted. “I’ve loved you for so long, Thranduil. I love you… I'm sor—”

Before you could apologize, hands wrapped around your waist and lips enveloped your own. Your hands made their way up Thranduil's chest and rested on his face. You melted into the kiss and he pulled you closer. You noses rubbed together and you pushed ever closed to him.

Stygian whinnied loudly, bringing you out of the kiss. You laughed and Thranduil merely smiled. He grabbed your hands and kissed them.

“Marry me,” he said gently, focusing on your hands, small in his large grasp.

“What?” you gasped.

“I love you. I want to make you my queen, loth.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I want to make you mine.”

“I am yours, my love.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips.

He was the one to break the second kiss, enveloping you in his arms. He placed his head on yours and stroked your back. “Would you like a crown of silver or flowers?”

“Both.”

He chuckled. “It shall be done, my queen.”

“Thranduil?” He hummed in acknowledgement. “Will you only call me Loth?”

“Do you not like ‘my queen’?”

“Others can call me that if they wish, but I like it when you call me Loth,” you said.

“If that's what you plead, my Loth.”

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