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Hello there! Thanks for taking the time to read this! I'll get straight to the point: I'm looking for someone to play King Thranduil for me against my OC! If you don't mind doing that, that's awesome, but in return for you doing such a thing for me, I will gladly play someone for you! [That is, anyone, either from LoTR/Hobbit, OR just anyone from any of the fandoms I mention below! Or an original character for a plot you'd like! So you don't have to ask for someone in the same universe as Thranduil! Basically you scratch my itch, I'll scratch yours lol.] So yes, this is a double up request, unless you only wish to play Thranduil for me haha. Most people aren't too interested in double ups it seems, buuuut maybe you're interested in my writing style, and wish to try?
Want to RP another fandom for your side? Here is a list of what I know!
- Harry Potter
-Fire Emblem Fates
- Avatar The Last Airbender
-Hazbin Hotel
Want to RP another fandom for your side? Here is a list of what I know!
- Harry Potter
-Fire Emblem Fates
- Avatar The Last Airbender
-Hazbin Hotel
- League of Legends
- Professor Layton
- Game of Thrones
- Fire Emblem Awakening
- Rune Factory Series (2, 3, 4, Frontier, 5)
- Arcane (All seasons)
- Owari no Seraph/Seraph of the End
- Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
- Erased
- Black Butler
- Attack on Titan (Haven't been up to date, but willing to research if you want someone from here I don't know.)
- My Hero Academy (Haven't seen the last season)
-Danganronpa Games, 1, 2, and Ultra Despair Girls
-Star Wars , the first six movies, as well as the Mandalorian series
-Nier: Automata
-Star Wars , the first six movies, as well as the Mandalorian series
-Nier: Automata
- Overwatch 1 (I don't know the newer characters in 2!)
- BASICALLY MOST ANIME ON THIS WATCHED LIST : HERE
-IF you want to do an original RP, or if you are interested in a plot you came up with, we can play this out for your side as well! Just come let me know what you're itching to try!
If you don't like any of those, maybe you have a plot you have been itching to try? Let me know, we can work out ANYTHING you want for your side, no problem! Spooky horror? Got you! Pure smut? Got you! Some random AU in a world we make up with characters from another series? Yes! Seriously, I am down to work out and do anything for your side, so long as you can play Thranduil for me !
Rules/Info:
Below are some writing samples for you! Feel free to ask for more!
If you don't like any of those, maybe you have a plot you have been itching to try? Let me know, we can work out ANYTHING you want for your side, no problem! Spooky horror? Got you! Pure smut? Got you! Some random AU in a world we make up with characters from another series? Yes! Seriously, I am down to work out and do anything for your side, so long as you can play Thranduil for me !
Rules/Info:
- I will always write around 900ish-1300ish words per side per RP. I will ALWAYS give you more writing for your side than my own! I will ALWAYS keep in mind how you want me to play whatever love interest you have for your side. I will do whatever you like for your side. I DO tend to get bored if I get responses below 500ish words, so please keep that in mind. I love details! Internal thoughts!
- I don't want rape, dub con, or anything of that sort FOR MY SIDE OF THE RP. I LOVE romance, love it when my love interest only has eyes for my OC. Love them being infatuated and thinking they're the loveliest in the world. I RP to self-indulge, and this is what I prefer. It may sound picky, but in return, like I said, I will do literally whatever you want for your side.
- There are certain things I do not want for my side of the RP, like mentioned above, but I have no limits when it comes to writing for you. Seriously, I will write whatever you want. I write horror stories as a pastime and it gets pretty dark. I can do whatever you like. Any kinks, any dark story, whatever. Just message me and tell me the details of what you want, we will work out something that you will surely enjoy. I can also write FxM, MxM, or FxF for your side. For my side, I will always do FxM.
- Whenever needed, people will be aged to 18+ years old. Everyone will be 18 years old+
Below are some writing samples for you! Feel free to ask for more!
The streets of Hell had never been quiet, but after the events of the past year, they seemed a little less chaotic - at least in this part of town. Charlie Morningstar strolled through the twisting, cracked streets of Pentagram City, her heels clicking against the uneven cobblestone. The air hung heavy with sulfur and smoke, tinged with the faint metallic tang of spilled blood. Neon signs flickered in and out of existence above grimy buildings, their gaudy colors casting eerie reflections on the slick pavement. A cacophony of distant screams, gunshots, and maniacal laughter wove together into a dissonant symphony that was as much a part of Hell as its scorching heat.
Still, Charlie smiled, undeterred by the bleak surroundings. Her golden hair glowed faintly even under the harsh, artificial lights, a stark contrast to the eternal gloom around her. The rebuilt Hazbin Hotel now stood tall in the distance, its once-crumbling facade restored to its former glory - no, better. It was a symbol of hope, however faint, in a place that had none. And Charlie, as always, was determined to find anyone willing to take a chance on that hope.
"Just one," she murmured to herself, her crimson eyes scanning the streets. "There has to be someone."
She'd taken to wandering the city more often these days, looking for anyone who might be willing to give redemption a try. Not everyone was open to the idea, of course. Most demons laughed in her face, some hurled insults or worse, and many simply ignored her. But every now and then, she'd meet someone - a lost soul clinging to the faintest shred of humanity or a demon tired of the endless cycle of sin and suffering. Those moments made all the rejection worth it.
As she turned down a shadowy alley, the smell of desperation hit her like a brick wall. This part of the city was darker, quieter - though not in a peaceful way. The shadows seemed to shift and writhe of their own accord, and the flickering light of a single, malfunctioning streetlamp barely pierced the gloom.
It was here that she heard the voices.
"Hand it over, now, or we'll make you wish you'd stayed in the living world."
Charlie froze, her eyes narrowing as she pinpointed the source of the commotion. Two demons - typical lower-rank types with distorted features and oily black skin - were cornering a man against a crumbling wall. The victim stood out immediately. While most souls in Hell bore obvious signs of their infernal transformation, this one looked… different.
He was tall and slim, with messy dark hair that fell into his eyes. His features were sharp, almost painfully human, and his eyes - a striking shade of blue, clear and piercing- seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. He clutched a worn leather satchel to his chest as the demons closed in, sneering and leering with razor-sharp teeth.
"Come on, pretty boy," one of them hissed, its clawed hand darting out to grab the satchel.
The man flinched but held firm, his jaw tightening as he tried to back away.
Charlie's blood boiled. Without a second thought, she darted forward, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement as she closed the distance.
"Hey!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the alley like a clap of thunder.
The demons turned, their eyes narrowing at the sight of her. For a moment, they seemed to hesitate, recognizing the princess of Hell. But then, as if emboldened by their numbers, they sneered.
"Look who it is," the larger of the two growled, its voice dripping with mockery. "The little princess herself. What, you gonna sing us to death?"
Charlie planted her hands on her hips, her crimson eyes blazing with fury. "Let him go," she demanded, her voice firm. "Now."
The smaller demon snickered, its forked tongue flicking out. "Or what? You gonna run crying to Daddy?"
That struck a nerve, but Charlie didn't let it show. Instead, she stepped closer, her posture radiating confidence. "Or I'll make you regret it," she said evenly.
The larger demon scoffed, baring its jagged teeth. "Big talk for someone unarmed."
Charlie smirked, tilting her head slightly. "You really want to test me?"
The air around her seemed to shimmer for a moment, a faint golden glow emanating from her as her innate power flickered to life. The demons exchanged nervous glances. They knew better than to underestimate her, even if they didn't want to admit it.
With a low growl, the larger demon spat on the ground. "This ain't worth it," it muttered, turning to leave.
The smaller one lingered for a moment, glaring at Charlie, before reluctantly following its companion. "You're lucky, human," it sneered over its shoulder. "Next time, you won't have your little princess to save you."
Charlie waited until they were out of sight before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Turning to the man, she softened her expression, her smile warm and genuine.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping closer.
Charlie studied him for a moment, her curiosity piqued. There was something… unusual about him. Most souls that ended up in Hell didn't look this human, not for long. And his eyes - those beautiful, haunting eyes - seemed to hold a depth she couldn't quite place.
"You shouldn't be wandering around here alone," she said gently. "It's dangerous."
Charlie tilted her head, her smile never faltering. "What's your name? I'm Charlie. And… if you don't mind me saying, you don't seem like you belong here. But.. but I can help! We can help, that is. Me and the others at the Hazbin Hotel! Come on, follow me and we can figure it out, okay?"
As they left the alley, Charlie couldn't help but glance at the man again, wondering what had brought him to this place.
--
Lilium hummed softly to herself, the tune light and whimsical, as she twirled a strand of her long, silvery hair around her finger. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the cracked streets of Hell, a sound that seemed to echo in the eerie silence of the dimly lit alleys. Things had changed drastically since Adam's fall. The chaos had shifted into something more... unrestrained, and for Lilium, it was utterly intoxicating.
Life in Hell had always been a carnival of torment and absurdity, but now, it was as though the demons felt invincible. Their victory over Heaven had made them reckless, their caution abandoned in the wake of their triumph. For Lilium, this was nothing short of a gift.
Blood was easier to find, easier to drain. Easier to savor.
She licked her lips at the thought, a smirk curling her red-painted mouth. The intoxicating rush of power she felt coursing through her veins after each feeding was unparalleled. It was as though she could crush the entire underworld beneath her heel if she desired.
As she strolled along, a piercing scream shattered the stillness. Lilium's silver eyes flicked in the direction of the sound, her lips parting in a delighted gasp. "Oh, how delightful," she murmured, her steps quickening.
Turning a corner, she found the source of the commotion. A woman cowered against the side of a crumbling building, tears streaking her soot-stained face as a towering, brutish demon loomed over her. He sneered, his jagged teeth glinting in the faint glow of the streetlamps.
Lilium tilted her head, observing the scene with detached amusement. It wasn't an uncommon sight- Hell wasn't exactly known for chivalry. But something about the way the demon towered over the woman, his cruel laughter echoing in the air, made her chest tighten. A flicker of something old, something human, stirred within her.
"How unfortunate for you," Lilium said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as she stepped forward.
The demon turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight of her. At first, he looked annoyed, but that expression quickly melted into fear. The corners of Lilium's mouth quirked up into a sweet, saccharine smile, but her gaze was anything but kind.
"Now, now," she cooed, her tone almost playful, "there's no need for such hostility. But..." Her smile widened, revealing a glint of fang. "I'm feeling rather parched."
Before the demon could react, Lilium was on him, her movements a blur. Her fangs sank into his neck, and his scream was cut short. His blood was bitter, tainted with cruelty and despair, but she drank deeply nonetheless. The woman fled, her frantic footsteps fading into the distance, but Lilium barely noticed.
When she was finished, she let the lifeless body crumple to the ground, wiping her mouth delicately with the back of her hand. "Weak," she muttered with disdain, stepping over the corpse as though it were little more than trash.
The night air felt cooler as she made her way back to the Hazbin Hotel, her appetite sated for the moment.
Inside, the hotel was its usual chaotic self, the mismatched décor somehow managing to be both gaudy and charming. Lilium lounged elegantly on one of the plush couches, crossing her legs as she leaned back. She wasn't one for idle chatter, but her attention snapped to the door when a familiar figure entered.
The Radio Demon himself, Alastor, strode in, his ever-present grin as unnerving as it was captivating. Lilium's lips curved into a smile that matched his in sweetness, though hers was far more genuine.
"Alastor~," she sang, her voice dripping with honeyed delight. "What a pleasure. And what are you up to today?"
Her tone was casual, but her gaze lingered on him, studying every twitch of his smile, every shift in his stance. Alastor was a puzzle she couldn't help but want to unravel. Dangerous, enigmatic, and oh, so intriguing.
Still, Charlie smiled, undeterred by the bleak surroundings. Her golden hair glowed faintly even under the harsh, artificial lights, a stark contrast to the eternal gloom around her. The rebuilt Hazbin Hotel now stood tall in the distance, its once-crumbling facade restored to its former glory - no, better. It was a symbol of hope, however faint, in a place that had none. And Charlie, as always, was determined to find anyone willing to take a chance on that hope.
"Just one," she murmured to herself, her crimson eyes scanning the streets. "There has to be someone."
She'd taken to wandering the city more often these days, looking for anyone who might be willing to give redemption a try. Not everyone was open to the idea, of course. Most demons laughed in her face, some hurled insults or worse, and many simply ignored her. But every now and then, she'd meet someone - a lost soul clinging to the faintest shred of humanity or a demon tired of the endless cycle of sin and suffering. Those moments made all the rejection worth it.
As she turned down a shadowy alley, the smell of desperation hit her like a brick wall. This part of the city was darker, quieter - though not in a peaceful way. The shadows seemed to shift and writhe of their own accord, and the flickering light of a single, malfunctioning streetlamp barely pierced the gloom.
It was here that she heard the voices.
"Hand it over, now, or we'll make you wish you'd stayed in the living world."
Charlie froze, her eyes narrowing as she pinpointed the source of the commotion. Two demons - typical lower-rank types with distorted features and oily black skin - were cornering a man against a crumbling wall. The victim stood out immediately. While most souls in Hell bore obvious signs of their infernal transformation, this one looked… different.
He was tall and slim, with messy dark hair that fell into his eyes. His features were sharp, almost painfully human, and his eyes - a striking shade of blue, clear and piercing- seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. He clutched a worn leather satchel to his chest as the demons closed in, sneering and leering with razor-sharp teeth.
"Come on, pretty boy," one of them hissed, its clawed hand darting out to grab the satchel.
The man flinched but held firm, his jaw tightening as he tried to back away.
Charlie's blood boiled. Without a second thought, she darted forward, her heels clicking loudly on the pavement as she closed the distance.
"Hey!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the alley like a clap of thunder.
The demons turned, their eyes narrowing at the sight of her. For a moment, they seemed to hesitate, recognizing the princess of Hell. But then, as if emboldened by their numbers, they sneered.
"Look who it is," the larger of the two growled, its voice dripping with mockery. "The little princess herself. What, you gonna sing us to death?"
Charlie planted her hands on her hips, her crimson eyes blazing with fury. "Let him go," she demanded, her voice firm. "Now."
The smaller demon snickered, its forked tongue flicking out. "Or what? You gonna run crying to Daddy?"
That struck a nerve, but Charlie didn't let it show. Instead, she stepped closer, her posture radiating confidence. "Or I'll make you regret it," she said evenly.
The larger demon scoffed, baring its jagged teeth. "Big talk for someone unarmed."
Charlie smirked, tilting her head slightly. "You really want to test me?"
The air around her seemed to shimmer for a moment, a faint golden glow emanating from her as her innate power flickered to life. The demons exchanged nervous glances. They knew better than to underestimate her, even if they didn't want to admit it.
With a low growl, the larger demon spat on the ground. "This ain't worth it," it muttered, turning to leave.
The smaller one lingered for a moment, glaring at Charlie, before reluctantly following its companion. "You're lucky, human," it sneered over its shoulder. "Next time, you won't have your little princess to save you."
Charlie waited until they were out of sight before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Turning to the man, she softened her expression, her smile warm and genuine.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping closer.
Charlie studied him for a moment, her curiosity piqued. There was something… unusual about him. Most souls that ended up in Hell didn't look this human, not for long. And his eyes - those beautiful, haunting eyes - seemed to hold a depth she couldn't quite place.
"You shouldn't be wandering around here alone," she said gently. "It's dangerous."
Charlie tilted her head, her smile never faltering. "What's your name? I'm Charlie. And… if you don't mind me saying, you don't seem like you belong here. But.. but I can help! We can help, that is. Me and the others at the Hazbin Hotel! Come on, follow me and we can figure it out, okay?"
As they left the alley, Charlie couldn't help but glance at the man again, wondering what had brought him to this place.
--
Lilium hummed softly to herself, the tune light and whimsical, as she twirled a strand of her long, silvery hair around her finger. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the cracked streets of Hell, a sound that seemed to echo in the eerie silence of the dimly lit alleys. Things had changed drastically since Adam's fall. The chaos had shifted into something more... unrestrained, and for Lilium, it was utterly intoxicating.
Life in Hell had always been a carnival of torment and absurdity, but now, it was as though the demons felt invincible. Their victory over Heaven had made them reckless, their caution abandoned in the wake of their triumph. For Lilium, this was nothing short of a gift.
Blood was easier to find, easier to drain. Easier to savor.
She licked her lips at the thought, a smirk curling her red-painted mouth. The intoxicating rush of power she felt coursing through her veins after each feeding was unparalleled. It was as though she could crush the entire underworld beneath her heel if she desired.
As she strolled along, a piercing scream shattered the stillness. Lilium's silver eyes flicked in the direction of the sound, her lips parting in a delighted gasp. "Oh, how delightful," she murmured, her steps quickening.
Turning a corner, she found the source of the commotion. A woman cowered against the side of a crumbling building, tears streaking her soot-stained face as a towering, brutish demon loomed over her. He sneered, his jagged teeth glinting in the faint glow of the streetlamps.
Lilium tilted her head, observing the scene with detached amusement. It wasn't an uncommon sight- Hell wasn't exactly known for chivalry. But something about the way the demon towered over the woman, his cruel laughter echoing in the air, made her chest tighten. A flicker of something old, something human, stirred within her.
"How unfortunate for you," Lilium said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as she stepped forward.
The demon turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight of her. At first, he looked annoyed, but that expression quickly melted into fear. The corners of Lilium's mouth quirked up into a sweet, saccharine smile, but her gaze was anything but kind.
"Now, now," she cooed, her tone almost playful, "there's no need for such hostility. But..." Her smile widened, revealing a glint of fang. "I'm feeling rather parched."
Before the demon could react, Lilium was on him, her movements a blur. Her fangs sank into his neck, and his scream was cut short. His blood was bitter, tainted with cruelty and despair, but she drank deeply nonetheless. The woman fled, her frantic footsteps fading into the distance, but Lilium barely noticed.
When she was finished, she let the lifeless body crumple to the ground, wiping her mouth delicately with the back of her hand. "Weak," she muttered with disdain, stepping over the corpse as though it were little more than trash.
The night air felt cooler as she made her way back to the Hazbin Hotel, her appetite sated for the moment.
Inside, the hotel was its usual chaotic self, the mismatched décor somehow managing to be both gaudy and charming. Lilium lounged elegantly on one of the plush couches, crossing her legs as she leaned back. She wasn't one for idle chatter, but her attention snapped to the door when a familiar figure entered.
The Radio Demon himself, Alastor, strode in, his ever-present grin as unnerving as it was captivating. Lilium's lips curved into a smile that matched his in sweetness, though hers was far more genuine.
"Alastor~," she sang, her voice dripping with honeyed delight. "What a pleasure. And what are you up to today?"
Her tone was casual, but her gaze lingered on him, studying every twitch of his smile, every shift in his stance. Alastor was a puzzle she couldn't help but want to unravel. Dangerous, enigmatic, and oh, so intriguing.
Lilium shivered violently as Thranduil took her fingers into his mouth, his tongue warm and insistent as he sucked her essence from them. The way he moaned sent heat pooling low in her stomach, her core clenching in need. He sucked her fingers deeper, mimicking the way she had taken his cock in her mouth before, and she gasped, her knees trembling. He sucked her fingers clean so well.... he was so needy for her juices... almost as needy as she was for him and his cock, and his hot semen all over her and dripping out of her...
His eyes… Oh, his eyes burned with hunger, with possession, with an unspoken promise that he would consume her entirely. The wet pop as he released her fingers made her pulse throb between her legs, and when he hungrily reclaimed them again, it was almost too much.
"ɱσɾҽ."
The demand sent another rush of wetness from her, and she felt her thighs become slick. He wanted more. He wanted to taste more of her, suck more of her essence, right here, right now. The rawness of it, the lack of hesitation, the sheer need in his voice shattered the last of her restraint.
She had called him my love. The words had slipped from her lips naturally, unbidden, but she knew they were true.
His breath hitched. His expression flickered—was that shock? But then it was gone, replaced by that all-consuming hunger. The storm inside him raged stronger, and Lilium felt it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they ghosted over her skin, in the way he gazed at her as though she were the only thing in existence.
His voice in Sindarin, that sweet confession, made her dizzy.
"I want to suck more of you…"
He spoke it like a vow, a prayer, and Lilium let out a shuddering breath, watching his gaze flicker to her legs. The heat in his stare made her clench her thighs instinctively, but he had already touched them through the fabric of her skirts, and she could feel the warmth of his palm through the layers.
He wanted her to lift her skirts.
To spread her legs for him.
To show him everything.
He wanted her to open herself for him.
And oh, she would.
"Lilium…" His voice was a rasp, a plea, a demand all at once. "Fuck, woman…"
That was all it took. Her restraint was gone. Burned away. There was no one close to them in the gardens, no prying eyes. Just them, their little secluded island, the sound of water masking their sounds, the foliage shielding them from any wandering gazes... Perhaps, that is. But in her state, in her arousal, in her sheer desire to be fucked hard by him right here and now, she could not think straight.
She let herself fall back onto the bench, her head held up slightly, leaning it against an armrest so she could watch him, her breath ragged. The cool air caressed her flushed skin, a stark contrast to the heat burning inside her. Slowly, deliberately, she hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of her undergarments and pushed them to the side.
She spread her legs wide, and bunched the skirts of her dress up.
Wetness glistened on her inner thighs, evidence of how much she needed him. The cool air kissed her bared folds, sending a violent shudder through her, but it was his reaction she wanted. She wanted him to see how wet she was, how drenched she had become just from his words, from his touch, from the way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in existence.
With a slow, sinful motion, she spread herself with her fingers, revealing everything to him. The slick petals of her womanhood, swollen and needy, the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds already throbbing for him, the way her arousal dripped down her thighs.. She'd surely leave a puddle beneath her at this rate.
"This is for you, my King…" she murmured, her voice breathy, thick with lust, her silver eyes dark with desire and need, her pink lips parted slightly....
She lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze, her face completely flushed, her pupils blown wide with want. And yet, there was something else in her eyes—something wicked. Excitement.
Because she was doing this in the open.
Where anyone could walk by.
Where anyone could see her, spread like this for him, wanton and desperate and so utterly his.
But she didn't care....
Her breath hitched as she moved her fingers, dragging them slowly through her folds, gathering her wetness before spreading herself wider. Showing him how tight she was, how warm she was, how easily his thick cock would slide into her later, stretching her, filling her, claiming her as his. Breaking her... splitting her into two... making it so that her pretty little pussy that she spread so sinfully for him in the gardens would yearn for his cock to fill her up every moment of every day...
Lilium would never be the same.
She was lost, because of him. This side of her... only for him.. something only he brought out in her.. something only he'd witness....
She was lost.
She longed for her pussy to remember him in the most intimate way—to commit to memory every ridge, every pulsing vein, every subtle curve of his thick cock. She wanted to feel him so deeply, so completely, that her inner walls would mold to him, shaping themselves to his size, his perfect fit, as if her very body was made to take him and him alone. She craved the sensation of being stretched around him, of her slick heat clinging desperately to every inch, burning his shape into her until she could never forget the way he filled her.
"You'll fill it up so well…" she whispered, her voice husky, and horny, and laced with sinful promise. "Won't you…~?"
She, feeling utterly filthy, deliciously sinful, kept her soaked, glistening pussy spread wide for him with one hand, her fingers keeping her folds open so he could see everything—the soft pink flesh, the way her arousal dripped down onto the bench beneath her, shameless and obscene. With her other hand, she slowly reached down, fingertips ghosting over her own heated skin before finding that aching, swollen bud—her most sensitive place, the bundle of nerves Thranduil had worshiped with his mouth just last night. The memory of his tongue, his lips, the way he had feasted on her until she was mindless, sent a shiver through her, and she let out a breathy, needy moan as her fingers teased over it.
She felt utterly exposed, utterly vulnerable—and she loved it. She was putting on a show just for him, her thighs trembling as she touched herself under his gaze, reveling in the way her own slickness coated her fingers. She was his. ԋιʂ ʂʅυƚ. ԋιʂ ρҽɾϝҽƈƚ ʅιƚƚʅҽ ɯԋσɾҽ, ρʅαყιɳɠ ɯιƚԋ ԋҽɾʂҽʅϝ ʂσ ρɾҽƚƚιʅყ ϝσɾ ԋιɱ, ԃҽʂρҽɾαƚҽ ϝσɾ ԋιʂ αƚƚҽɳƚισɳ, ԋιʂ ƚσυƈԋ, ԋιʂ ƈσƈƙ.
Her breath hitched as the cool air kissed her flushed skin, amplifying the pleasure that coursed through her body, but most of all, she watched him. Every movement he made, every flicker of expression, every ounce of hunger in his eyes—she absorbed it all, letting it drive her deeper into her own pleasure.
Slowly, she pulled her hand away from her clit, her fingers now glistening with fresh arousal. Without hesitation, without a shred of shame, she lifted that hand toward him, offering herself to him once more.
"ɱσɾҽ...?" she whispered, her voice thick with lust, husky and dripping with need. Her half-lidded eyes smoldered with desire as she gazed at him, watching the way her fingers shone in the light, coated in her essence—her offering, her invitation, her plea for him to taste her again.
She was lost. Lost in him. Lost in the feeling of being so utterly desired. Lost in the knowledge that he wanted this, wanted her, wanted everything she could give him and more.
And gods above, she would give it all to him.
Every last piece of herself.
Every last breath, every last moan, every last trembling whisper of his name.
His eyes… Oh, his eyes burned with hunger, with possession, with an unspoken promise that he would consume her entirely. The wet pop as he released her fingers made her pulse throb between her legs, and when he hungrily reclaimed them again, it was almost too much.
"ɱσɾҽ."
The demand sent another rush of wetness from her, and she felt her thighs become slick. He wanted more. He wanted to taste more of her, suck more of her essence, right here, right now. The rawness of it, the lack of hesitation, the sheer need in his voice shattered the last of her restraint.
She had called him my love. The words had slipped from her lips naturally, unbidden, but she knew they were true.
His breath hitched. His expression flickered—was that shock? But then it was gone, replaced by that all-consuming hunger. The storm inside him raged stronger, and Lilium felt it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they ghosted over her skin, in the way he gazed at her as though she were the only thing in existence.
His voice in Sindarin, that sweet confession, made her dizzy.
"I want to suck more of you…"
He spoke it like a vow, a prayer, and Lilium let out a shuddering breath, watching his gaze flicker to her legs. The heat in his stare made her clench her thighs instinctively, but he had already touched them through the fabric of her skirts, and she could feel the warmth of his palm through the layers.
He wanted her to lift her skirts.
To spread her legs for him.
To show him everything.
He wanted her to open herself for him.
And oh, she would.
"Lilium…" His voice was a rasp, a plea, a demand all at once. "Fuck, woman…"
That was all it took. Her restraint was gone. Burned away. There was no one close to them in the gardens, no prying eyes. Just them, their little secluded island, the sound of water masking their sounds, the foliage shielding them from any wandering gazes... Perhaps, that is. But in her state, in her arousal, in her sheer desire to be fucked hard by him right here and now, she could not think straight.
She let herself fall back onto the bench, her head held up slightly, leaning it against an armrest so she could watch him, her breath ragged. The cool air caressed her flushed skin, a stark contrast to the heat burning inside her. Slowly, deliberately, she hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of her undergarments and pushed them to the side.
She spread her legs wide, and bunched the skirts of her dress up.
Wetness glistened on her inner thighs, evidence of how much she needed him. The cool air kissed her bared folds, sending a violent shudder through her, but it was his reaction she wanted. She wanted him to see how wet she was, how drenched she had become just from his words, from his touch, from the way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in existence.
With a slow, sinful motion, she spread herself with her fingers, revealing everything to him. The slick petals of her womanhood, swollen and needy, the small bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds already throbbing for him, the way her arousal dripped down her thighs.. She'd surely leave a puddle beneath her at this rate.
"This is for you, my King…" she murmured, her voice breathy, thick with lust, her silver eyes dark with desire and need, her pink lips parted slightly....
She lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze, her face completely flushed, her pupils blown wide with want. And yet, there was something else in her eyes—something wicked. Excitement.
Because she was doing this in the open.
Where anyone could walk by.
Where anyone could see her, spread like this for him, wanton and desperate and so utterly his.
But she didn't care....
Her breath hitched as she moved her fingers, dragging them slowly through her folds, gathering her wetness before spreading herself wider. Showing him how tight she was, how warm she was, how easily his thick cock would slide into her later, stretching her, filling her, claiming her as his. Breaking her... splitting her into two... making it so that her pretty little pussy that she spread so sinfully for him in the gardens would yearn for his cock to fill her up every moment of every day...
Lilium would never be the same.
She was lost, because of him. This side of her... only for him.. something only he brought out in her.. something only he'd witness....
She was lost.
She longed for her pussy to remember him in the most intimate way—to commit to memory every ridge, every pulsing vein, every subtle curve of his thick cock. She wanted to feel him so deeply, so completely, that her inner walls would mold to him, shaping themselves to his size, his perfect fit, as if her very body was made to take him and him alone. She craved the sensation of being stretched around him, of her slick heat clinging desperately to every inch, burning his shape into her until she could never forget the way he filled her.
"You'll fill it up so well…" she whispered, her voice husky, and horny, and laced with sinful promise. "Won't you…~?"
She, feeling utterly filthy, deliciously sinful, kept her soaked, glistening pussy spread wide for him with one hand, her fingers keeping her folds open so he could see everything—the soft pink flesh, the way her arousal dripped down onto the bench beneath her, shameless and obscene. With her other hand, she slowly reached down, fingertips ghosting over her own heated skin before finding that aching, swollen bud—her most sensitive place, the bundle of nerves Thranduil had worshiped with his mouth just last night. The memory of his tongue, his lips, the way he had feasted on her until she was mindless, sent a shiver through her, and she let out a breathy, needy moan as her fingers teased over it.
She felt utterly exposed, utterly vulnerable—and she loved it. She was putting on a show just for him, her thighs trembling as she touched herself under his gaze, reveling in the way her own slickness coated her fingers. She was his. ԋιʂ ʂʅυƚ. ԋιʂ ρҽɾϝҽƈƚ ʅιƚƚʅҽ ɯԋσɾҽ, ρʅαყιɳɠ ɯιƚԋ ԋҽɾʂҽʅϝ ʂσ ρɾҽƚƚιʅყ ϝσɾ ԋιɱ, ԃҽʂρҽɾαƚҽ ϝσɾ ԋιʂ αƚƚҽɳƚισɳ, ԋιʂ ƚσυƈԋ, ԋιʂ ƈσƈƙ.
Her breath hitched as the cool air kissed her flushed skin, amplifying the pleasure that coursed through her body, but most of all, she watched him. Every movement he made, every flicker of expression, every ounce of hunger in his eyes—she absorbed it all, letting it drive her deeper into her own pleasure.
Slowly, she pulled her hand away from her clit, her fingers now glistening with fresh arousal. Without hesitation, without a shred of shame, she lifted that hand toward him, offering herself to him once more.
"ɱσɾҽ...?" she whispered, her voice thick with lust, husky and dripping with need. Her half-lidded eyes smoldered with desire as she gazed at him, watching the way her fingers shone in the light, coated in her essence—her offering, her invitation, her plea for him to taste her again.
She was lost. Lost in him. Lost in the feeling of being so utterly desired. Lost in the knowledge that he wanted this, wanted her, wanted everything she could give him and more.
And gods above, she would give it all to him.
Every last piece of herself.
Every last breath, every last moan, every last trembling whisper of his name.
Lilium loved when her king coiled his hands in her long, white hair. The sensation sent shivers cascading down her spine. Again, she thought, this was why she'd been blessed with such long stunning hair. So that he may grip it, and defile it, and drench it in his cum, and pull it, and play with it... The silken strands—the color of moonlight on fresh snow—were made to be wrapped around his elegant fingers, to serve as reins with which he guided her movements.
She wanted him to pull harder. To grip her silky damp strands tight and force his cock impossibly far down her throat. The desire burned within her like wildfire, the command nearly tumbling from her lips. But... her mouth was very occupied with his thick cock, so... she decided to continue sucking instead, communicating her needs through the eager movements of her tongue and the hungry sounds that vibrated from her throat.
Mmmm... Lilium loved this feeling. The feeling of her mouth and throat being so full of him... The stretch of her lips, the weight of him on her tongue, the way her throat constricted around his impressive girth. It was divine torture, a sacred violation that she craved more than the air she breathed.
How many times had he fucked her throat now? Two, or three? Her throat was so sore and raw by now that it felt like many more times, but oh, how she adored it. The delicious ache was a badge of honor, a physical reminder of her devotion. She wanted to choke on him every day, to feel that exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain, the dance between surrender and survival that occurred each time he pushed past the natural resistance of her body.
She took him inside deep, her eyes watering as stars danced at the edges of her vision. The pressure against her airway made her dizzy with desire, and she gagged a little, her body's instinctive protest against the intrusion. But she took him anyway, needing to have him in there like she needed her next breath. She nearly had him in fully, to the hilt, and she even tried to let her tongue touch his balls at the same time. If he wasn't so massive, perhaps she'd be able to try to take his balls into her mouth at the same time... she wondered if it was even possible. The thought alone made her core throb with desire, her thighs clenching together in a futile attempt to ease the ache between them.
Her eyes watered, tears cutting crystalline paths down her flushed cheeks, but she continued to look up at him, refusing to break the connection. Her expression was debauched and horny—lips stretched obscenely around his girth, cheeks hollowed with the force of her suction. She pulled her head back, now sucking only at his tip, her tongue playing there, circling the sensitive tip with deliberate slowness.
She flattened her tongue against the underside, tracing the prominent vein that pulsed with his desire. Then she dipped the tip of her tongue into his slit, tasting the salty essence that gathered there—a preview of what was to come. She sealed her lips around just the head, creating a vacuum of pleasure as she sucked with focused intensity, each pull of her mouth designed to drive him closer to the edge of sanity.
It was driving him mad, she could tell. Her mighty Elvenking shook and shuddered, his normally composed demeanor fracturing under the assault of her mouth. He moaned and groaned and growled, primal sounds that echoed through the grotto and sent thrills of satisfaction through her veins. He pulled her hair more forcefully now, the slight sting against her scalp transforming instantly into liquid pleasure that pooled between her thighs. She let out a muffled moan of her own, the vibrations traveling through his length, and continued to fuck him with her mouth.
"Fuck, yes... you're so good... on your knees..." he gasped out for her, and she gave a pleased, muffled mewl in response. The praise washed over her like warm honey, sweet and intoxicating. She lived for these moments—when her service reduced her powerful king to trembling desperation.
Her good king. Her everything.
She sucked him hard then, with renewed vigor and determination. Her hands, which had been resting on his muscular thighs, now moved to cup his heavy sac, rolling the sensitive flesh between her fingers with practiced care. She bobbed her head for him, establishing a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless. Pushing as far down as she could, deep-throating him until her nose was buried at the base, and pulling back to his tip, over and over... faster, faster, as quickly as she could.
The grotto filled with obscene, wet sounds—the slurping of her mouth, the gasping of his breath, the occasional choke when he reached particularly deep. Saliva dripped freely from her chin now, coating his length and making the glide smoother. Her jaw ached, her throat burned, but she wouldn't stop for anything. Not when he was this close, this undone, this beautiful in his pleasure.
And then it happened—the culmination of her efforts, the reward for her devotion. He exploded into her mouth, his body going rigid as the first pulse of his release hit the back of her throat. She let out a muffled cry of pleasure, the vibrations of her voice intensifying his orgasm. He came so much for her... torrents of hot semen filling her throat again and again. She fucked him with her mouth roughly as he spilled into her, working him through each spasm of ecstasy.
Every time she pulled her head back to his tip now, she could see her saliva, and his sticky semen all over him—a glistening testament to their shared pleasure. She continued to take him, to drink every single drop as though it were the most precious elixir in all of Middle-earth. But he came so much that some spilled past her lips, escaping the seal of her mouth to drip down her chin and onto her chest, pearls of white against her flushed skin. Some even dripped to the stone floor beneath her knees, marking the sacred space of their union.
He continued to cum, helplessly spurting his hot seed into her throat, his control completely shattered by her skillful ministrations. It coated her sore throat like a soothing balm, and she swore she could live on his seed alone. She was addicted to it—to his delicious cum, to the taste that was uniquely his, a complex flavor of salt and him.
His hips were thrashing now, the last vestiges of his control gone as primal instinct took over. He pulled her hair with almost painful intensity, anchoring her in place as he fucked her throat so hard her eyes watered more profusely. Her drool mixed with his semen and dribbled down her lips, creating messy rivulets that tracked across her chin and neck. Still, she continued to take him, determined to be the vessel for his pleasure until he finished at last.
When the final pulse of his orgasm subsided, he collapsed on the floor before her, his magnificent body slick with a fine sheen of sweat. His cock—still partially erect—glistened with her saliva and his seed, twitching occasionally in post-orgasmic euphoria. His chest heaved with exertion, and his eyes—normally sharp and calculating—were hazy with satisfied bliss.
"I love you... babygirl..." he groaned, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. Lilium panted now, catching her breath after her thorough throat-fucking, but her expression was absolutely blissful. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, her hair a wild tangle from his rough handling—and she had never looked more beautiful.
"I love you too... sweet king... I wish to wake you up that way every morning..." she cooed, her voice a raspy whisper from the abuse her throat had taken. "Will you feed me your semen for breakfast, hmm...?~" The question was posed with such innocent depravity, such sincere hunger...
She licked her lips now, savoring the lingering taste of him. Her delicate fingers idly rubbed the cum that had dripped onto her chest into her skin, as though it were a precious lotion she wanted to absorb into her very being. Then she sucked her fingers clean, one by one, maintaining eye contact with him as she performed this intimate act of devotion.
Without thinking—driven by pure instinct and desire—she leaned forward, her head touching the ground almost reverently. Her position was one of complete submission, her round bottom raised slightly in the air as she extended her tongue to lap at the drops of cum that had fallen onto the floor. She licked and licked, his delicious addictive flavor mixing with the mineral taste of the stone beneath, but she licked anyway, like a kitten at a saucer of milk, until there was not even a hint of his seed left there.
Lilium would rather taste his essence mixed with dirt than let a single drop go to waste.
She sat up again, licked her lips slowly, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. A primal need overcame her then, a desire for closeness that transcended the physical act they'd just shared. She was desperately pulled to her king now, crawling into his lap so that they were as close as physically possible. He hungrily kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue, and she eagerly kissed him back, opening her mouth for him, sharing his flavor with him in an intimate exchange that felt almost sacred.
"My sweet king.. My love.... ɱყ ʅσʋҽ...."
She wanted him to pull harder. To grip her silky damp strands tight and force his cock impossibly far down her throat. The desire burned within her like wildfire, the command nearly tumbling from her lips. But... her mouth was very occupied with his thick cock, so... she decided to continue sucking instead, communicating her needs through the eager movements of her tongue and the hungry sounds that vibrated from her throat.
Mmmm... Lilium loved this feeling. The feeling of her mouth and throat being so full of him... The stretch of her lips, the weight of him on her tongue, the way her throat constricted around his impressive girth. It was divine torture, a sacred violation that she craved more than the air she breathed.
How many times had he fucked her throat now? Two, or three? Her throat was so sore and raw by now that it felt like many more times, but oh, how she adored it. The delicious ache was a badge of honor, a physical reminder of her devotion. She wanted to choke on him every day, to feel that exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain, the dance between surrender and survival that occurred each time he pushed past the natural resistance of her body.
She took him inside deep, her eyes watering as stars danced at the edges of her vision. The pressure against her airway made her dizzy with desire, and she gagged a little, her body's instinctive protest against the intrusion. But she took him anyway, needing to have him in there like she needed her next breath. She nearly had him in fully, to the hilt, and she even tried to let her tongue touch his balls at the same time. If he wasn't so massive, perhaps she'd be able to try to take his balls into her mouth at the same time... she wondered if it was even possible. The thought alone made her core throb with desire, her thighs clenching together in a futile attempt to ease the ache between them.
Her eyes watered, tears cutting crystalline paths down her flushed cheeks, but she continued to look up at him, refusing to break the connection. Her expression was debauched and horny—lips stretched obscenely around his girth, cheeks hollowed with the force of her suction. She pulled her head back, now sucking only at his tip, her tongue playing there, circling the sensitive tip with deliberate slowness.
She flattened her tongue against the underside, tracing the prominent vein that pulsed with his desire. Then she dipped the tip of her tongue into his slit, tasting the salty essence that gathered there—a preview of what was to come. She sealed her lips around just the head, creating a vacuum of pleasure as she sucked with focused intensity, each pull of her mouth designed to drive him closer to the edge of sanity.
It was driving him mad, she could tell. Her mighty Elvenking shook and shuddered, his normally composed demeanor fracturing under the assault of her mouth. He moaned and groaned and growled, primal sounds that echoed through the grotto and sent thrills of satisfaction through her veins. He pulled her hair more forcefully now, the slight sting against her scalp transforming instantly into liquid pleasure that pooled between her thighs. She let out a muffled moan of her own, the vibrations traveling through his length, and continued to fuck him with her mouth.
"Fuck, yes... you're so good... on your knees..." he gasped out for her, and she gave a pleased, muffled mewl in response. The praise washed over her like warm honey, sweet and intoxicating. She lived for these moments—when her service reduced her powerful king to trembling desperation.
Her good king. Her everything.
She sucked him hard then, with renewed vigor and determination. Her hands, which had been resting on his muscular thighs, now moved to cup his heavy sac, rolling the sensitive flesh between her fingers with practiced care. She bobbed her head for him, establishing a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless. Pushing as far down as she could, deep-throating him until her nose was buried at the base, and pulling back to his tip, over and over... faster, faster, as quickly as she could.
The grotto filled with obscene, wet sounds—the slurping of her mouth, the gasping of his breath, the occasional choke when he reached particularly deep. Saliva dripped freely from her chin now, coating his length and making the glide smoother. Her jaw ached, her throat burned, but she wouldn't stop for anything. Not when he was this close, this undone, this beautiful in his pleasure.
And then it happened—the culmination of her efforts, the reward for her devotion. He exploded into her mouth, his body going rigid as the first pulse of his release hit the back of her throat. She let out a muffled cry of pleasure, the vibrations of her voice intensifying his orgasm. He came so much for her... torrents of hot semen filling her throat again and again. She fucked him with her mouth roughly as he spilled into her, working him through each spasm of ecstasy.
Every time she pulled her head back to his tip now, she could see her saliva, and his sticky semen all over him—a glistening testament to their shared pleasure. She continued to take him, to drink every single drop as though it were the most precious elixir in all of Middle-earth. But he came so much that some spilled past her lips, escaping the seal of her mouth to drip down her chin and onto her chest, pearls of white against her flushed skin. Some even dripped to the stone floor beneath her knees, marking the sacred space of their union.
He continued to cum, helplessly spurting his hot seed into her throat, his control completely shattered by her skillful ministrations. It coated her sore throat like a soothing balm, and she swore she could live on his seed alone. She was addicted to it—to his delicious cum, to the taste that was uniquely his, a complex flavor of salt and him.
His hips were thrashing now, the last vestiges of his control gone as primal instinct took over. He pulled her hair with almost painful intensity, anchoring her in place as he fucked her throat so hard her eyes watered more profusely. Her drool mixed with his semen and dribbled down her lips, creating messy rivulets that tracked across her chin and neck. Still, she continued to take him, determined to be the vessel for his pleasure until he finished at last.
When the final pulse of his orgasm subsided, he collapsed on the floor before her, his magnificent body slick with a fine sheen of sweat. His cock—still partially erect—glistened with her saliva and his seed, twitching occasionally in post-orgasmic euphoria. His chest heaved with exertion, and his eyes—normally sharp and calculating—were hazy with satisfied bliss.
"I love you... babygirl..." he groaned, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. Lilium panted now, catching her breath after her thorough throat-fucking, but her expression was absolutely blissful. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, her hair a wild tangle from his rough handling—and she had never looked more beautiful.
"I love you too... sweet king... I wish to wake you up that way every morning..." she cooed, her voice a raspy whisper from the abuse her throat had taken. "Will you feed me your semen for breakfast, hmm...?~" The question was posed with such innocent depravity, such sincere hunger...
She licked her lips now, savoring the lingering taste of him. Her delicate fingers idly rubbed the cum that had dripped onto her chest into her skin, as though it were a precious lotion she wanted to absorb into her very being. Then she sucked her fingers clean, one by one, maintaining eye contact with him as she performed this intimate act of devotion.
Without thinking—driven by pure instinct and desire—she leaned forward, her head touching the ground almost reverently. Her position was one of complete submission, her round bottom raised slightly in the air as she extended her tongue to lap at the drops of cum that had fallen onto the floor. She licked and licked, his delicious addictive flavor mixing with the mineral taste of the stone beneath, but she licked anyway, like a kitten at a saucer of milk, until there was not even a hint of his seed left there.
Lilium would rather taste his essence mixed with dirt than let a single drop go to waste.
She sat up again, licked her lips slowly, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. A primal need overcame her then, a desire for closeness that transcended the physical act they'd just shared. She was desperately pulled to her king now, crawling into his lap so that they were as close as physically possible. He hungrily kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue, and she eagerly kissed him back, opening her mouth for him, sharing his flavor with him in an intimate exchange that felt almost sacred.
"My sweet king.. My love.... ɱყ ʅσʋҽ...."
Feel free to ask me for more samples! Feel free to message me to ask about my OC for Thranduil! Feel free to message me about anything you want, really. Hope to hear from you all soon!
Here are some kinks since people seem interested in that, but I don't mind if we don't use them! Smut is just a bonus for me! But yes, I can RP it, and very detailed as well! Again, I have no limits for whatever you wanna do for your side , just message me!
Here are some kinks since people seem interested in that, but I don't mind if we don't use them! Smut is just a bonus for me! But yes, I can RP it, and very detailed as well! Again, I have no limits for whatever you wanna do for your side , just message me!
Faves: Foreplay, Multiple Orgasms, Sexual Exhaustion, Teasing, Fangs (Vampires!), Large Cocks, Muscular Characters, Older Characters, Taller Characters, Vampires, Age Differences (18+), Anal, Anal Virginity, Clit Play, Vaginal Sex (Receiving), Vaginal Virginity, Giving & Receiving Oral Sex, Face-Fucking, Fingers in Mouth, Throat Penetration, Cock/Ball Worship, Cock Warming, Creampie, Cum, Soft Cum Facials, Excessive Semen, Swallowing Semen, 2+ Penetration, Affection, Romance, Consensual, Dating, Scenes - Shower/Bath, Handjobs, Massages, Masturbation, Clothing Play, Clothed Sex, Socks/Stockings, Begging, Dirty Talking, Discipline, Aftercare, Blindfolds, Crying, Handcuffs, Gags, Leash and Collar, Light/Medium Bondage, Orgasm Control/Denial, Biting, Choking, Hair Pulling, Sexual Pain.
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