bakerstreet | ❝Significant Other Experience❞

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❝Significant Other Experience❞

The ❝Significant Other Experience❞ Meme

You wake up in a room in a home that could be describe as your ideal, whatever that is. Modern, old-fashioned, futuristic, the setting is whichever you would be most comfortable with. Yet this new environment is not the most important feature here; instead, that honor goes to the fact that you are not alone. You are sharing this place, which seems familiar like a far-off dream, with another person. This person claims to be your significant other. But that can't be right, can it? You don't know them at all, they have to be crazy.

Still, they want to love you, show affection, be intimate, like they claim you two "always are." That's...nice. Suddenly, you feel less alone, even if you never knew you felt that way before. And the sex - the sex is mind-blowing. There's emotional weight, there's contentment, there are arms to hold you and make you feel wanted.

Perhaps they're right. This is where you belong. After all, you're starting to remember, too, and everything is seeming more and more familiar.

For just a little while, why not have some peace?

How to Play

Some happiness for characters before the end of the year. Or some existential crises. However you'd like to play it.
Comment with your character, preferences, kinks, and any other information you'd like to include. Also, if you have a strong inclination to play the person waking up in the environment or the "significant other," clarify.
Reply to others.
Feel free to tweak the setting, the premise, or anything else. Pick any time during the scene or make up any ulterior motives there could be. Fluffy or sinister, take your pick!
Just use this to whatever end you'd like. Have fun!

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[ooc: I'm secretly a sucker for this trope, so.]

[ Ayyyyye, this is the good stuff. OTA, bonus points for crosscanon and cross-species. ]

Kink List

Anyone suddenly woke up and found themselves at the realm of the fae? Lol.

[if he's too old or you'd rather not, I totally understand. But if so, have one Crusader that's wide eyes and over the moon about being in a fantasy world]

Edited (Html fail) 2017-10-31 21:26 (UTC)

[How old Thranduil in human year? Most likely measured in millennium so let's give it a try. Tell me your expectations as well as your dos and don'ts. :) ]

Edited 2017-10-31 22:57 (UTC)

[ for a thread, I am thinking either right after the wake up or perhaps a little after that. Still "early" in their relationship. I love political stuff and actiony things. I could definitely see there being quite a stir because an Elvin King of the Woodland Realms taking a gasp! human as a lover. Especially such a huge human knight. Reinhardt could easily fall into the role of protector knight (not that Thranduil needs it). I could also see Thranduil being indulgent and letting the old man explore and generally geek out about his world.

Kink wise, I'm pretty easy. I'm not a big fan of bathroom stuff or vore. Anything else is totally good. Reinhardt naturally falls into a Service role, and generally spoils the hell out of his lovers.

I can do either action brackets or prose. ]

[
1. Either right after the wake up or perhaps a little after that. Still "early" in their relationship.
Acceptable. Which one do you rather have?
2. Quite a stir because an Elvin King of the Woodland Realms taking a gasp! human as a lover.
;) Not only mortal but also a man. But he is their King and even in the history of mankind Kings were allowed some leeway once they have a biological heir or two. Some parties might grumble from time to time at their own risk, Thranduil was known for having quite a temper when provoked and his sword could strike fast with unerring accuracy.
3. The role of protector knight
*evil smirk* Orcs is plentiful in this realm and they are forever threatening the elven community.
4. Not a big fan of bathroom stuff
Are you sure of saying no to good times in the big pool Thranduil have as part of his personal bathroom? :D Just kidding, I agree with no bathroom stuff such as scat etc and of course vore.

If you already mapped the course then feels free to start.]

Edited 2017-11-01 04:04 (UTC)

[Good with m/f or m/m, prefer to be the one waking up in this scenario.]

Reinhardt was still utterly amazed with this world. Even though he had been here for perhaps a month though he's not quiet sure how the time passes here. Not that he really cares. Not here. Not when he can roll over in that large bed and see the gorgeous elven king beside him. Not when every morning, he got to greet the sunrise in the great fortress hidden within the Woodland Realm. He still found such glee in trying his hand against the warriors that lived under their king. But more than that, his heart was the most full when he could stand to one side of Thranduil while the king sat in counsel, a lone human, allowed where so few mortal men dared to go.

Though for him, he has never really felt out of place. He knows he should. Taller than even the elves. Larger than some of the orcs they sometimes had to battle, old (though Thranduil was infinitely older), he should be an unwanted outcast here, locked into the dungeons until such time as he could be forcibly returned to the Realm of Men. But somehow, he had won the affections of the noble ruler on his throne and because of that, he felt as if he belonged there.

Even now, he was learning the tongue of the elves. He struggled around his thick accent, so that he could speak to the lord he loved more than anything. Usually tripping over his words when he worked to whisper sweet nothings into his beloved's sharply pointed ears while they twined together in the bed they shared. But the thing he loved most of all was the look he would get when he returned at the head of the elven guard, victorious again at driving the orcish horde from the land.

When he could kneel before the foot of his king, head down, arms out, laden with the proof of their win in the sword (or even the head) of the enemy. "For now, they have left the borders of the forest." He knows they will return. "I ask you again if I might take a small envoy and root them out where they hide and be rid of them for good." He always asks this because he would never leave this king to recklessly hunt their enemies on his own. His life doesn't belong to him after all. He is Thranduil's Shield.

Reinhardt had come back in one piece and victorious must be his favourite sight these days and thus the genuine smile. The human knight had miraculously won his approval and affection not long after they met. Elves could see the soul of another living being and he had been taken by what was found on Reinhardt's. The utmost devotion for the Woodland Realm's causes helped to seal it and in the end he took the huge man as lover despite many objections from members of the advisory council.

"You know my answer would be," he said from the throne. Not that he doubted Reinhardt's ability to take down a horde of orcs but the foul creatures had aligned themselves with the dark lord Sauron and the last had proven to be harder to get rid of than cockroach. Maybe it is selfish of him but he dreaded the day Reinhardt would come back as lifeless corpse or worse yet, an animated corpse under Sauron's command. He had lost his wife many centuries ago and recently had just found another one with who he can share himself with, he doesn't want to lose the brief time they have together before age and mortality claim Reinhardt forever.

He peeks up from his bow. There is nothing he adores more than that smile. Such a rare thing. He loves seeing it just as much as he loves seeing the pure wrath when his love is angry. There isn't a side of the elven king that Reinhardt hasn't found himself loving. He even finds what's hidden under elven glamour, what the dragons did, to be something to love. Who is he to judge when his body is just as ravaged by wars.

"Of course, my King, but I still ask." He asks because of loyalty. He knows he could go without permission. He could march off. There are many among the warriors who would come with him. But he won't. He won't betray his love, his king in such a way. He comes and he goes at the pleasure of his King. That is how a knight should be.

"I shouldn't be gone for more than a week at most. Just long enough to route them and make safe the forest once more. Then I'll return to you. But not immediately. Your men need food and rest and a chance to see their families." And Reinhardt wants to spend a little time with his lord, just basking in his presence before he goes questing again.

Persistence must be the human knight's middle name and Thranduil found himself between exasperated fondness and wanting to jump the huge man on bed. Show of valour always whet his appetite like nothing else could. Then an idea came to mind, something that might not to Reinhardt's liking. "Very well, I will come with you. I wish to gain first-hand perspective about it."

The king is correct that Reinhardt doesn't like that. Not one little bit. For a moment, there is a stormy expression on his face. He knows. He knows that Thranduil is a warrior without peer. He knows the king can fight. He knows it's not his place to tell his lord what he can and can't do. Where he can and can't go. Reinhardt knows this well, but there is still that voice inside him that wants to demand that the King stay here. Stay where it's safe. Reinhardt has lost so many he loves. He doesn't want to lose his king as well.

His hands clench at his sides and he takes a slow deep breath in. His loyalty to his love makes him unable to shout at him. At least in public. He holds his tongue, jaw clenching until his teeth grind together. Then he breathes out just as slowly. Calm once more.

"If that is your wish, then I would be honored. A King should know what touches his land and his peoples." He stands from his kneel so he can take a step forward. He's one of the few bold enough to walk right to the front of the king's throne. Even more bold to openly take a hand to kiss. A sign of his fealty to Thranduil. "I will see to preparations. I will have your armor and your mount ready for you so that come the first light of tomorrow, we can go."

Because they at least need a night. A night for the elves working under him to be with their families. And a night for himself, to be able to hold his king in his arms and know that he'll be safe during their orc hunts.

The elf smiled, already anticipating tonight. Reinhardt might shout to him later and he might retaliate but it is only to warm their blood enough for what would follow in the aftermath. How could he not fall to the human knight, from the noble intentions, righteous protectiveness and many more to the way the human could rival his own physical strength. In his eyes Reinhardt is entirely suitable for his lover, and the elks likes the huge man too.

"Come to my chambers tonight," he said. "We would discuss your plan" Reinhardt have his own room in this palace but all people knows that the chambers was rarely used since both of them begins to sleep together. The blatant invitation and the subtle gleam in the winter blue eyes means tonight they would not spend the time for talking about battle plan, at least not most of it. The King had enough of Reinhardt being away for so long and tonight he wants his lover.

There is the smallest upturn of his lips at the command. At the subtle invitation within it. He knows what this means. He knows that the rest of his day will be spent in quiet anticipation. Not of the discussions but of the after. He has found that no lover has been more perfect than this elven king. He will have to take care not to let such things distract from his duties.

"As you wish, my king." He says it in stumbling elvish, proud that he has finally managed the language of the fair folk, even if just this phrase. He says it quite often, after all. Then he gives his bow and takes his leave to insure the rest of his men have been seen to and have their orders.

But he never lingers away from the throne room long. Eventually, he always returns, clad in not the armor he wears for orc killing but the armor he had been gifted as bodyguard to the king. He is always struck by the difference between his heavy plate and this light elven armor, mostly because he knows that for all it's delicate beauty, it is as strong as his. Just like his king.

He'll spend the rest of his day just to the left of the king's throne, out of the way but not so far that he can't put himself in harms way should he need to. But before the last of the day, he'll slip quietly away to gather what is needed. Not just the maps and quills and ink but the small jar of slick that they use.

When he finally makes to the king's chambers, he is no longer in his armor, but in the flowing garments of evlish make. Somehow, they don't look silly on him. They only change his look from hard knight to soft king's consort. There is nothing soft about the way he knocks or announces himself though.

"Highness, your knight reports as ordered."

The heavy door swung open by its own and followed by Thranduil's voice from the studyroom part of the chambers, "In here." He might sounds calm now but based at past experiences he can hardly wait to jump Reinhardt's bones and started their private festivity.

In the studyroom maps and scrolls of reports were strewn across the huge desk and bent above them was Thranduil. Hair still slightly damp from bath, from the look of it he wore nothing beneath the belted houserobe. Impatient indeed. Upon Reinhardt's arrival he straightened himself, smile automatically bloomed. "Show me your plan," at least he tried to get business out of the way first. Still, surely he could be forgiven if from time to time eyes strayed towards the bunched muscles of his consort's wide shoulders, arms, upper torso, well-defined backside and strong thighs.

For a moment, he can only stand in the door. Stand there and just take in the sight of his king. The elf is simply the most enchanting thing Reinhardt has ever seen. The other man takes his breath away just by existing. He knows he can't just stand there and enjoy the view. His king calls.

He strides across the room in confidence and takes up his rightful spot next to Thranduil. His hand slides across the table and he rests it over the King's. "Of course." He won't remove it. He just likes being able to touch because he doesn't really allow himself to touch most of the day.

"Here is what I am thinking." With his other hand, Reinhardt runs a finger over the map and talks out what he's thinking. His experience and skill as a fighter shows though as he explains troupe placement and tactics. He pays attention to the skills of the men under him, tries to bring out the best of their talents, play to their strengths and his own. Because of course, he puts himself in the thick of things, never one to shy away from battle. "And I'm thinking that you'll make commands from here." He knows he's purposely placing his king as much out of danger as possible. "Part of your cavalry. On your elk. Ready to ride in with your sword when we get them to here."

He looks up with a hopeful eye. "You'll be glorious." and safe. The safe is the important part for Reinhardt.

Long hair was incredibly useful to hide a smile that your lover might not appreciate and that's precisely what Thranduil did. From beneath Reinhardt's much larger hand he intertwined their fingers together before looking towards the human knight, expression already schooled into gentle-smiled and clear-eyed (which actually would send even the famous Lord Elrond into immediate high alert and defensive mode because of experience from thousands of years dealing with Thranduil). "There is reason why I choose tomorrow's patrol." Before their eyes a see-through miniature image of a young and fierce-looking orc appeared. "This is Azog's heir, tomorrow would be the fifth time out of twelve from his rite of passage into adulthood. I need a few minutes with him alone." What he is about to do to Azog's heir is not pleasant nor honourable, he is about to introduce a hidden corruption within the leadership of their kingdom and for that he must place himself in vulnerable position as a living bait. "Alone, for no one else besides the two of us should know about it." There's something else he didn't outright said and he was half-counting on Reinhardt's experience on various battles to understand and be prepared for. A 'something' called 'just flesh-wound' to make it credible story why the orc managed to escape from an elven king known for his proficiency and near savage glee on battle.

Edited 2017-11-26 11:13 (UTC)

The king's smile is soft. It puts his heart at rest to see it. But only for a moment, because while he hasn't had the millennia others have, he knows that look. It's part of what attracted him to the elf. It might put him on the defensive, but not for himself. It makes him want to stand behind Thranduil and back him up in whatever he's about to do.

He watches the images, always amazed by the elf's magic and his hand tightens more around his king's. Letting the other alone with the enemy... It sits badly on his heart, but not because he thinks that the elf king is going to do wrong. He knows sometimes you have to do some dark things, but he doesn't have to like it.

"I...understand. I won't get in the way of this. But know that I will be there. I will be right there, ready to run in if things go wrong. I know you will do as you will. You are my king. But I won't stand by if I think you are going to die." He lifts the hand in his to press a kiss to those elegant knuckles. "Do what you need to do. The sooner this is done and they never come back, the sooner I can remain here and not out there."

That is his wish too. Orcs came from elves who was twisted by the force of evil, there's always concern that one day Reinhardt would be surrounded and he's not in position to help. Like he ever going let his lover to face them alone. Not if he could help it, orcs was famous for their tendency to torture their captures to death and to defile the corpse later.

Personally he saw the grizzled warrior as being too honourable for the world of politics and backstabbing that every king inhabited no matter the species.

He smiled then leaned forward to place a brief chaste kiss, feeling the facial hair brushing against his own smooth skin. "From time to time your patience was tested and you remains steadfast, I am grateful to be the recipient of such devotion." Let's not tell Rein (yet) about the planned breaking of bones, it might ruin tonight's planned activities.

The kiss is a welcome one and Reinhardt struggles with himself. He wishes to turn his head and make that kiss something a bit more, but he holds back. If he starts now, he knows he will become distracted. With planning for a battle, he can't afford more distraction than is already present with a beautiful and elegant king at his side.

"I think this would be the best place for it." He moves the piece that represents the king. "It's out of the way. The grotto has many trees to shield eyes. This way, neither side will see what you must do. And I can hold back the throngs of orcs that will try to get to you while you are there alone. When it is time, I will let myself to be beaten back and will reunite with you to allow Azog's heir time to escape."

There is a pause and he finally turns from the maps and the table to give his king a small kiss in return. "Always, My King. I will always be your knight. From the moment you accepted me, a lowly human, into your service until the day you feel it fit to turn me away and send me back to the Realm of Men, I am yours. This is what I swore to you, A'maelamin." It's really the only words he has fully learned in Elvish tongue, 'my beloved'.

There's no need for more words, everything that could be said has been so at the time he gave his own vow as King to the newly accepted Knight. Their core tenets is actually the same, to serve and protect. A King's duties and responsibilities is to his subjects and a Knight's is to his monarch. Personally he thought that receiving such devotion that Reinhardt strives to provide is heartbreaking. It is the nature of elves and Men to want of protecting those they holds dear, yet it is impossible on this case. Being a King might seems like the ultimate luxury but in reality it must be paid with personal sacrifices that if given choice he would rather have the life of a commoner where he doesn't have to send loved ones to battle that they might not survive. Every time Reinhardt's squad went out to face the orcs that tried to invade this kingdom it was with heavy heart blessing was given and always sleepless nights followed until the time the human Knight came back safe and sound. His mind knows that Reinhardt is very capable as veteran of countless battles but tell that to his heart.

Azog's heir is still very young for his kind but he would be a sacrifice to ensure that for a long time orcs would no longer become threat to everyone who called this kingdom their homeland. The young orc would be the seed that will cause their society to implode and its all hinged on the plan currently concocted by both of them.

He touched Reinhardt's forearm lightly, arching to deepens the kiss (obviously not above teasing Reinhardt's self-control). He wanted so much more and hardly could wait for the battle plan to be finished. He was well-built even for warrior-standard but next to Reinhardt he looked like a slender twig. "How is a 'lowly human' such as yourself more worthy to wear the elven armour than some who were born and raised for it?" That's a rhetorical question/statement, had Reinhardt not being such a honourable person Thranduil would never be interested on him.

He turned back to the map then put the piece that represents their target on the grotto next to the other one. "Five minutes alone with him then your company may storm in to chase him off. I trust you to decide how to deal with the others," index finger flicked lightly and topple the Azog's heir's piece.

Edited 2017-12-14 09:58 (UTC)

He never minds stooping for the king so that he doesn't have to strain himself to reach. He considers such kisses a reward even if he knows that they test the very boundaries of his control. In a way, he's glad he came to this kingdom as an older and wiser man. Had he come to it in the past, all bluster and fool-hearty ego, he doubts the King would have allowed him to stay. He had traded his golden hair and youthful recklessness for something far more valuable to him. Now, he reaps from those years of experience, if only to stave off his desire for his king as he does whenever they are together in the courts. When he must stand back silently and watch as his King deals with the likes of other rulers.

He smiles at the question. He knows it's not one he needs to answer, but he can't help it. He remembers the armor he had come to this place in. Shoddy and worn. An old knight in an old relic that barely held together with not more but stubbornness and hope for just one more adventure. Now, he wears the beautiful armor of the Elves. Lighter than air, but stronger than his old plate. "Because you had it made for me, sire. It was the second greatest gift I've ever been given. I strive every day to make certain I remain worthy of it." And of the first gift, which is the ruler's heart.

He stands close as he watches the movement. Reinhardt really doesn't like it, but he knows it must be done. "Of course. I will make sure we give you another victory and will accept your punishment as I will foolishly let Azog's heir escape." As he knows someone will have to serve as a lesson. He would prefer it to be himself, as he is the only one in on this plan.

"This will work. As always, you are brilliant." He leans this time. It's his turn to steal a kiss. Something he only does when he knows there is no business to attend to. It's a soft thing against a pointed ear. "I look forward to battle." But more than that, he looks forward to sending the time before and after with his lover.

Long fingers twitched along with the said pointed ear. "Punishment for interrupting your king from personally executing Azog's heir is more likely," he chuckled then turning around to rest his hands against Reinhardt's broad torso. He purred, "After all, my temper at the height of battle is quite infamous," like will keep going until he drop because of sheer exhaustion or life-threatening battle wound that doesn't allow him to go physically further. Six thousand and five hundred years old or not Thranduil want what he wanted and not about to be denied of it. At least he used that time to learn about patience, which he is inclined to drop anyway when he can get away with it.

Nimble fingers sought Reinhardt's nipples through the elven-made fabric, "The punishment should only for the sake of formality because in reality you did it to prevent your injured king from aggravating his wound even further." The pale ocean blue eyes had darkened so much it is almost like a pool of midnight blue, looks like time for talking about battle plan had ended. "Another chance to deal with Azog's heir will come but there's only one king Thranduil," and the other elven warriors would be made to understand through grapevine that Reinhardt's act is the best for the time.

He looks down at the king and gives a small smile. He knows. He knows his lord is frightening. He's fierce and strong and everything Reinhardt is deeply attracted to. There are those days when he wants nothing more than to strap on his armor and spar with his king. He won't, if only because as Thranduil's knight, he won't ever raise hand to him, not even for sport.

Reinhardt leans a little into that touch. "I know your temper. You are as hot blooded as you are beautiful." And he wouldn't have it any other way. So it goes without saying that he'll accept whatever punishment his king sees fit. He could happily sit here under 'house arrest' or something harsher and quicker. He knows it must be done.

He moves his hands to slide around the back of the elf, his large hands spanning out to cover as much space as possible. It's also to give him the leverage he needs to lift his love off his feet. It's a simple thing, with no strain, muscles rippling as he does, to bring his ruler up to his own height. Of course, he'll put Thranduil down if he asked. "I think, my king, that your chambers await."

After so many times at the past being treated like he only weighted like an elfling he only found this arousing. Like a lion, his lover is so strong and yet could be so wonderfully in control of himself. It is impossible to resist such combination.

Arms wrapped themselves around Reinhardt's thick neck. "You know the way, meleth nîn (my love)." Tonight he planned to approach Reinhardt with new idea to spice up their bedroom life. The human knight had always put his lover's need first without demanding any (according to Thranduil's own standard) and it doesn't sit well with the elven king. They already tried but he have a narrow opening and passage even only two of Reinhardt's thick fingers was enough to send fiery pain into the rest of his abdomen.

"Of course I do." But he always seeks permission first. The man is his lord, his king. He would never invite himself into Thranduil's bed, even if it's his favorite place to be. There is nothing he adores more than laying his love out and giving him all the adoration and love he can. He doesn't even care if he doesn't get much in return. His pleasure is in seeing his king in bliss.

He just carries his love to that spacious bed. It's with gentleness that he places his ruler down onto the mattress. He kneels beside, aware of how much his weight crushes those fine feathers. His large hands already working to rid his love of those thin coverings of clothing, never once trying to remove his own. His warm and loving smile is of utter devotion. "You need not hide under your magic. You know I find you beautiful no matter what." Reinhardt enjoys getting to kiss those terrifying dragon-caused scars, worshiping every inch of his smaller lover, kissing him all over. He even enjoys sucking his tiny little dick and fingering him to completion with his smallest finger. And never once since the King has taken him to bed has Reinhardt asked for more and never has he fully undressed, his proof of his dedication. Of the fact that he's pleased with what ever he is offered.

Reinhardt might find his scar beautiful but for Thranduil it is the mark of failure that he despised. The sight and feel of it is a reminder of him having to be smuggled out of battlefield wrapped with cloak to hide the burns while his people still fighting the dragon. Only for Reinhardt (and have to be in private) he let the realistic illusion go.

The elf gave Reinhardt a rueful smile, half of his face morphed into scorched stiff flesh and bones and milky white eye. "Everytime you reminded me that." His own hand reached to brush against one of the numerous scars covering his lover's arm. He find them attractive as silent testaments of past trials where his lover had emerged victorious in the end.

He let himself being undressed, knowing that soon he'll lost almost all will to fight, the fire within would give way for physical delight delivered by his devoted lover's skillful ministration. Trust doesn't come easily to him and it takes a lot of that before he would let himself showing vulnerability around someone. Reinhardt had proved himself worthy of it.

Still stroking reachable scars one by one he said, "Tonight I wish to see you are pleasuring yourself." He doesn't mean deriving pleasure from serving his king as Reinhardt is prone to. He want to make sure about the size of Reinhardt's full erection. The thing was monstrous even in the standard of Men. Elves' tends to be long and slim while Men's varies greatly. His own, while perfectly proportioned for his kind, is tiny compared with what he saw jutting from his lover's lap when fully aroused. He suspects that even if he managed the transformation certain adjustments still would be necessary, elleth's (female elf) internal tract was made to accommodate ellon's (male elf) and his other form might follow the same design by default.

Edited 2017-12-17 11:47 (UTC)

"Because every time you are beautiful. Few have seen a dragon and lived and here you are. Still perfect." Of course, he doesn't seem to find it ugly. He's missing an eye as well. And his body is not perfect. To him, he doesn't see failure when he sees Thranduil's body, he sees strength. Skill. The will to survive.

He already kisses those stiff scars, pausing at the request. He swallows a little and sits up. He can't deny his lover anything. He knows this. But he also knows that he is not a small and delicate man. He is nothing like the elves his king rules. He's no slip of a thing like the King's wife must have been. He's seen the king's son. Truly, it had to have been the most attractive of unions. Nothing at all like himself, who could put the very orcs he fought to shame in his size.

"Of course. If that is your wish. I want nothing more than to see you happy." It would make him happy too, he knows. But there is still that old fear, from when he had attempted to have human lovers in his youth, all of whom took one look at him and decided him too freakish to even try. He's grown up since then, but the memory still has him hesitate. Only shortly, because he wishes to know if his king will still find him attractive under that thin layer of cloth.

He's quick about it, baring muscle and scar easily. He longs to feel delicate but strong fingers sliding through his chest hair and wants to feel that single eye upon him, liking what is being shown. Reinhardt's breeches are next, leaving him bare, only half hard at the moment, but already so hugely impressive. He then sits back to let his lover look. "Do I still...suit your tastes, Majesty?"

Remaining eye widened noticeably, even when already seeing it once before it doesn't lessen the awe at all. He sat up straighter. How big the girth when fully aroused, he wondered. "You are magnificent," he murmured, eye looking down and up following the trail of hair. His own torso is only lightly covered by smattering of hair the same colour with his head, but Reinhardt...

Hand reached to touch, sliding from the crown and continuing sideway to the bottom side then root. Temperature-wise it is hotter than he imagined and the weight... he cannot imagine someone his size have to carry such thing all his life. The human phrase of 'hung like a horse' doesn't do Reinhardt's justice, not even close.

Something stirred inside himself, and he realized that if in the current form he already find the reality of his lover's body arousing as hell it would be even stronger when he have even partial female biochemistry after the transformation.

Somehow he found himself already sitting on his lover's thighs and straddling the very organ that captivated his interest. "Meleth nîn," he murmured, running a hand through the thick pelt that decorated the knight's broad chest, fingers curving and digging well-maintained nails across taunt skin. Eye is blazing with undisguised lust, "I must be the envy of many right now." If he is an elleth he probably would be gushing with natural slick just from the sight alone.

His king's hand on him feels amazing. He is already hard, but such a touch only makes him more so. There's just something about being touched by the elf that turns him on. He throbs strongly in that strong and elegant hand. He can't even argue, that he's too largel too much. If it's just a hand, it's fine. It's more than fine. He would be honored with only that much. He would never dare ask his king to lower himself with such debased acts as fellatio, even if Reinhardt enjoys performing such on the king.

He groans more at the touch up his torso and his hands go around Thranduil's hips. His huge hands once more nearly fully encircling the king. "I think you have that wrong." He gives the other a smile. "I'm the one to be envied. You are the king. You are powerful and beautiful. Fierce and passionate. I am certain the line for your favor and a space in this bed stretches all the way to your borders and past it. I am indeed fortunate that it is I that you chose. I am a truly lucky man." As he speaks, his thick fingers slide, just enough to tease his ruler, the rough pad of a finger brushing against the man's small cock. He knows it's supposed to be about him tonight, but Reinhardt can't stop himself from wanting to bring Thranduil pleasure.

One of the elf's hands flew to prevent Reinhardt from continuing his act. He might be locked in place by huge hands that almost spanned the width of his hips but it doesn't mean he is helpless. "Later," he said with decisive tone. Later he would let Reinhardt to take him in mouth but right now the giant of a man have a task to perform.

His hand once again encircled Reinhardt's engorged cock, this time making mental note about its exact size. Satisfied, he nodded to his lover, "Pleasure yourself, my love, I will be watching." He wants to learn how Reinhardt like it. If the transformation succeed the knowledge would come handy.

Physically, he might be stronger than his king, but as soon as those long fingers grip him, he stops. He won't fight against it. It's a command from his King. As much as he might want to see that handsome face lost in pleasure, he obeys. His fingers curl away and he gives a nod. If Thranduil says later, then later it is.

Besides, that hand is on him again and he shudders. He has no shame around his king. If the elf tells him to pleasure himself, than he will. The idea that that single icy eye will be on him the entire time is quite the turn on. He adores knowing that his king is looking at him.

He shifts himself up a little and spreads his legs carefully. He doesn't want to knock his lover off his thigh. Then one large hand goes down to wrap around himself. He starts slow. Just slowly stroking his hand up and down his shaft. He travels, fingers lose and teasing all the way up to the head, fingertips dipping into his foreskin, teasing it down to bare more of his swollen glans, already beading with pre.

As he continues to tease and stroke, working that skin down, he shudders, trying to keep his hips still. His eye never leaves Thranduil though. His voice soft, murmuring in his own guttural language as he hands get tighter and his stroking gets more vigorous.

Single eye watched with intense concentration, here perched on Reinhardt's thigh he could feel every shift of muscles under his bared bottom as his lover tried to not jostle him off. Every movement and its timing was recorded in long term memory that already measured in thousands of years. Concentrating on watching, seemingly by it own volition one of his hands moved towards his own re-hardening erection. He looks like being in rapture, lips parted slightly and eyes glazed with phantom pleasure. The flexing muscles under his bottom is rubbing all the right areas and before his eyes is an unbearably erotic view of Reinhardt being fully displayed and enjoying himself. But make no mistake, despite being quite preoccupied right now his compartmentalized mind doesn't miss anything.

His eye slides from his king's face to his hand. He watches as Thranduil starts to touch himself. It has him moaning deeply, a low growling sound, so taken by the sight. To know that his lord found him so enthralling that he would take himself in hand. As much as Reinhardt want to be the one to bring the other male off, he won't deny the elf whatever pleasure he seeks. Instead, his hand continues, following how the other is touching himself. Imagining that elegant hand being on him instead.

His thumb rubs over the tip, pressing a little, into the small hole leaking heavy clear fluid making his hand slide even easier. He gasps a little and a flushed face looks to his king. "My lord...slide up...Let me take the both of us?" How nice it would feel to stroke himself off while rubbing his huge member against that small one.

Pale blue eye refocusing at the request, then without further ado he relocated. Legs splayed wide besides Reinhardt's hips he fitted their members together side by side. It won't be him if not adding his own flair. His hand wrapped around both then with the other one he placed Reinhardt's huge one to cover his own. "Do it," permission granted. It is possible to just hanging from those massive shoulders but he likes to participate.

Besides, he could not let Reinhardt's family jewel being left unattended, could he? His free hand slides between them to gently cradle the furry sac.

Reinhardt groans again. It feels so good to have his king this close. He loves the weight of Thranduil right there. It's often a quite fantasy when he's alone and needy to imagine his king mounting him, riding him until they are both worn out and spilled dry.

He gasps Thranduil's name when he feels those long warm fingers and again when his hand was put on top. "You honor me. Thank you." Because he does so love the other's touch. He doesn't go any slower though. Instead, he focuses even more, stroking them both together, his own dick sliding against Thranduil's. His moans get louder and more throaty when he feels the other hand on his balls. They're heavy. For his age, he's quite the virile man still.

His moans contain murmurs of love. Telling his king how much he loves the other in his guttural human language, in struggling Elvish. He's never been this close so quickly, but he knows it's because of his King's touch.

It was hard to concentrate while like this, Reinhardt's rhythm and timings are different from his own and he keeps becomes caught by surprise that effectively left him reeling with pleasure. He leaned forward, face hiding on the crook between his lover's neck and shoulder, breathing heavily and shuddering often. Legs bent on knees are pressing hards against Reinhardt's sides while hand previously cradling the human knight's balls now clutching at the muscular back for balance, for anchor amidst the wild firing of his nerves. He is quiet most of the time, until the end where all the passion would burst forth and he finally be free from all the trappings that comes with being the leader of the realm.

He loves it the most when his king gets loud. When the pleasure pulls those beautiful sounds from his lips. He adores it. He knows it's something the other needs. To just be able to let go and enjoy himself. No rules. No one to judge. Just the two of them chasing their pleasure while enjoying each other. His thrusts pick up and his strokes grow more frantic the closer he gets.

He moans more fully when the other rests against him. When he gets the pleasure of feeling the other's body against his. He tries hard to hold off, to warn his love. His king should always come first. It's difficult to hold off though. He knows he could ask permission from his king. But he knows not to beg. He won't insult Thranduil by begging him. Instead, he just holds off, leaking so heavily with each stroke. "Soon." He warns though. Warns because he knows he'll make a hell of a mess.

All Reinhardt's thrusts was what makes him have to hold up tight or risk become dislodged. He vowed to himself that the next time they are in this position he would be the one who dictate the rhythm. He always loves to see his lover battles his own impulses when all his instincts screams to take control, the fine-tuned self-control was one of the things that spiced up their bedroom activities in his mind.

When the huge man warned about his impeding climax the elf knows what he have to do. It is time to let go and if he is not ready yet to do so then something must be done. Two fingers swiped some of the leaking fluid until became drenched then reached between his own thighs. He arched backward with a loud cry when the two digits penetrated the ring of muscles in abrupt movement, the act sent shock racing along his spine that triggered his climax, fingers digging hard into Reinhardt's back.

Edited 2018-01-01 08:31 (UTC)

Reinhardt's world narrows down even further. A war could wage right outside that door and he wouldn't find it worthy of note. Only his king matters. Only the look on Thranduil's face. He feels more than sees the way the elf soaks his fingers. It's the same when he feels how the other's hand move. It's something he enjoys doing. But his fingers are so long and large and he likes it when the king does it himself. Let's go to pleasure himself.

He imagines what it must feel like. What it would be to be able to be inside his King. He squeezes his hand a little tighter around them both as he's certain it would be quite the tight fit. It's the imagining and then the way his lover arches as he cums that has Reinhardt following close behind. His own orgasm is strong, his cock spilling in heavy ropes within his hand, joining with Thranduil's. His moan is loud, a near shout of his lover's name before he falls backwards, panting, slowly letting go to examine the mess he's made of their hands. He won't get up until he has the king safe beside him. Then he will, so he can get water and cloth to clean them both so they can rest.

It was a testament of the crafter's skill when the bed didn't even shake as Reinhardt's bulk fell upon the rest of the mattress. Thranduil looking slightly dazed, his reflex had kept him perched on his lover's thigh, and he watched Reinhardt with interest. This is the first time he see the human knight enjoyed himself like this. Reinhardt's skill on pleasuring him on the bed was never in question, many times already he saw stars by the ministration of the surprisingly gentle hands and mouth, often to the point of exhaustion but instead of taking his turn his lover would proceed with cleaning them up. Bones feels like liquid his (often slurred) protests fell on deaf ears and the last thing he felt before being claimed by sleep usually was Reinhardt's arms cradling him like an elfling.

Some of the thick substance had landed on the long pale hair, how is a mystery that he doesn't have plan to divulge. It would take more than some dampened cloth to deal with the mess Reinhardt's had made of his hair. Fortunately the King's private bath is a pool that could accommodate even a giant like Reinhardt with comfort and still have space to spare.

Stained fingers carded along the thick pelt of Reinhardt's pleasure trail, going up and further spreading the mess. A smirk now gracing his lips, "Now this is how it should be."

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❝Significant Other Experience❞

Foggy Nelson | AU Daredevil

belle ❀ beauty and the beast (2017) → f/m

Eren Jaeger | Shingeki no Kyojin | M/M

Thranduil | cross-canon especially wanted.

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Owen Shaw | Fast & Furious movies

I'm sorry this took so long, let me know if this is all right.

Welcome back ^^ What is your expectation besides allowing him to roam the realm?

maybe dumb politics stuff and if you wish for anything hot and heavy, that too

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Happy New Year! New fighting spirit for us, for a better future! ^^

Rey | SW: TFA | OTA

A very happy belated New Years to you too. May the coming year give you much joy

Grins.