#mairon reader insert

[waterlooletterwrb]

WRITE WITH ME!

I will start, and you can use the reblog to continue this story however you desire! The idea is that post by post we do a longer story (but if you wanna post your version somewhere else feel free to do so, you just remember to credit me!).

The One rule: You can't gender the Elf!Reader character.

If you need, add more warnings to your post!

OTP: Mairon (Sauron) x Elf!Reader

Universe: Rings of Power / Tolkien

Warnings: main character death, angst, blood, "you can fix him" plot;

Summary: You're the one who stole the Dark Lord's heart, yet you're dying in his arms.

A Forbidden Promise

"Don't go. I — I cannot follow you there. You can't go. You can't go." His voice was frenetic, desperate in a way the dark lord never sounded. How could he not be? You're dying in his arms, the only sweet touch, warmth, love he's ever known. And he will never be able to follow you to Mandos. "Please, I will never be able to go with you there, please."

His plea sounds like he wants to go tho. A begging, maybe the first time in more than two ages that Mairon of the Maiar actually regrets his choices. In you he found his perfection. And now he would lose it. Was that the vengeance of the Valar?

You raise your weak hand, resting it on this face. With your thumb you wipe one of the tears from his cheek. Even now he is as beautiful as the first time you saw each other.

"I — I will come back. For you, I will come back." Your voice is not much more than an whisper. Yet, somehow you make a disbelieving smile appears on his lips.

"Who would give up paradise for me? For Sauron?" The name disgust you as much as it disgust him, and your face probably shows it because he sighs. "If you're leaving me, at least leave saying the truth. It's too... cruel to say it. For I never hoped before."

That makes you give him a pity sad smile. Ignoring the pain, you do everything you can to raise yourself. He holds you tighter, his warmth is what you need to concentrate even when your vision starts to fade.

"Mairon, endanya¹. Hear the last words of the one who stole your heart." This make you see for one last time the sweet smile that he only ever directed to you. "As I promised once, I will never lie to you."

He presses his forehead against yours. For the last time you breathe the same air. "So I dare to command you, Mairon or whatever name you desire to hear now: learn to hope." I little cry escapes your lips, and you feel his hands tremble where he holds you, for a moment you lose your mind and all you can hear is the blood dripping. It's a shame, his always beautiful tunics will forever be stained within your blood now.

Even so, he won't stop holding you. So you do everything you can to reassure him again. He needs to understand, he must believe.

"Learn to hope." You mumble. "For I shall return to you."

You no longer can see or feel, your hand falling from his face is the first sign you went to the undying lands. But you were right. And Mairon, Sauron, does not let you go. He holds you tightly, in a crying so long it's impossible to believe that that destroyed and devastated being was once Morgoth's heir.

The grief is too much and, when he finally let you, there's no one to hear but the wind while he whispers:

"I — I'm yours to command, endanya. I will hear whatever name you call me. I will do whatever you wish. I will hope — I will hope for you."

A promise and a threat. Because in his soul he knows; you were the only one that could stop what's coming for Middle Earth. You were the only one that could stop him.

So now even the wind hopes. You need to return.

••••••••••••••••

Endanya¹ = if i did the word correctly it should be quenya for "my love/my soul", but in a deeper way of calling the one you love "your everything". In my mind, when Sauron says it he is also telling that the reader is his light.

[cilil]

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇𝓈

Characters: Mairon, Gothmog, Eönwë, Tilion & Ossë; reader's gender is unspecified - all up to your imagination~

Featuring: 2nd person POV, vampire!Mairon, werewolf!Mairon, monsterfucking, Balrog anatomy, avian Ainu, merman, some Dom/sub dynamics, bit of predator/prey and other kinks, penetrative sex, intercrural sex, dirty talk

Warnings: Possessive themes, smut, tiny bit of degradation branding/burn marks, blood drinking/vampirism, mentions of impact play (whipping, spanking), swords/blades, bit of blood, biting, scratching

AN: Thanks to everyone who voted on my poll (back in the day). Sorry for the delay and here are your top choices plus our favorite birdy boy - hope you enjoy!

Mairon

𓂀 Once your heart is his, Mairon makes sure to live up to his reputation as the Lord of Gifts and the Lord of the Rings. Whether it is to seal a bond of marriage, asking for your hand or a promise of love and courtship, he crafts a beautiful ring just for you - showing everyone that you are now his and possibly also enhancing said ring with a few spells so he can watch over you.

𓂀 Yet gold is not the only way for him to mark your body; he also loves to use his fire to ensure neither you nor anyone else will ever forget where you belong. Mairon's preferred symbol to draw on your skin is The Eye, and he loves to place it right on your neck or chest so he can see it every time he takes you.

𓂀 His love and desire for you take many forms, as does he; when in the shape of a vampire, he enjoys biting you and drinking your blood while he makes love to you, strengthening the bond between you. He may sing to you to keep you calm while he feeds, and his song causes the wound and the vein he drank from to appear golden for a time until it slowly fades. Mairon expects you to wear those marks with pride and not cover them up.

𓂀 Whenever his form has more wolfish attributes, he also likes leaving bite marks, but his favorite feature is his knot. He loves how it swells inside you and stretches you out while he breeds you and how it keeps his seed inside until he decides he's done with you for the night.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"Do you think you can take it?" 

Mairon slams into you with the full strength of his fána, making sure you can feel every inch of his hot, hard cock stretching you out without mercy. 

"Do you think you can take my knot, my precious little slut?" 

You barely manage to nod before a searing hot sensation makes you cry out in pain and pleasure alike. The eye symbol, proudly adorning your chest, glows in response to his words, like on the day when you were first marked by his hand. 

Satisfied with your obedience, Mairon stops moving and allows his seed to fill you. His knot swells proudly, binding you to him, and you try to muffle another scream — only for him to deter you with a quick slap on your thigh. 

"No," he says firmly, "let me hear it. I want to hear how much you love this, and you will not deny me."

Gothmog

☄ Contrary to popular belief, Gothmog can be affectionate and isn't afraid to show it. He likes to keep you close in public and holds you like a pretty little doll, making it clear to everyone that you belong to him and no one else may come close to you, let alone touch you. Even when he isn't around, the scent of fire and heat of his touch seems to surround you everywhere you go.

☄ Yet make no mistake: The Lord of Balrogs is incredibly strong and likes it rough. He may use his claws and fangs to as part of passionate love making and leave bite and scratch marks in strategic spots to ensure that everyone knows he has claimed you. Carry your marks with pride: To Balrogs, they are a symbol of strength and a sign that you belong.

☄ Gothmog's favorite way to claim and mark you, however, is fire - but he won't use his whip unless you ask him to. Instead, he may opt to simply use his hands to leave a nice and warm hand print on your skin; the same applies to any sort of impact play where he uses his hands instead of any tools. The touch of a Balrog leaves a lingering feeling of either cosy warmth or searing heat, and which one it will be is his choice to make.

☄ Aside from horns that you can hold on to, Gothmog also has a tail - and yes, he can and will use it. Not only is it a convenient as an additional limb to wrap around you and pull you close when his hands and arms are occupied and to keep others away from you, but he can also use it to fuck you if he so chooses, be it to tease you or for double penetration. He loves to test your limits.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"What a pretty little thing you are." Gothmog pats your head with his large hand while he continues to effortlessly bounce you on his lap as if you weigh nothing. 

You would have cried out from the intensity of his massive cock thrusting in and out of you rapidly, but all you manage is a muffled moan; your mouth is currently occupied by the tip of his tail. 

"We don't need the entire fortress to hear you," Gothmog said beforehand, and you agreed. 

He is — for his standards — gentle with you, but you also know that there isn't much mercy to be had in Angband. You consider yourself lucky to be with him. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Gothmog rakes the claws of his free hand down your back and chuckles when he feels your throat vibrate with muted screams. 

"And so good for me too," he adds to his previous statement. "Keep taking me so nicely and I might even let you rest after this round."

Eönwë

⚔ As sweet and affectionate as Eönwë is with you in private, he's not exactly fond of others trying to compete, particularly during avian mating season. He stays with you whenever he can, guarding you like a precious treasure, and watches the people who approach you, both when's nearby and when he's somewhere else. Should another suitor be so foolish as to approach you anyway, they will soon notice a very irate Maia glaring at them and posturing aggressively, every single feather fluffed up.

⚔ While you two are still courting and not quite ready for marriage yet, Eönwë presents you with a lovely promise bracelet or anklet (your choice), made of his favorite materials that he gathered himself. Nothing makes him happier than seeing you wear it, and conveniently enough it also serves as a reminder to other suitors that you are very much taken - by the chief of the Maiar, no less.

⚔ When Eönwë makes love to you, he can be gentle, but he can also be feral. Sometimes his desire simply overwhelms him. Depending on his current form, he has talons on his hands and will make use of them to mark you, even drawing ancient patterns on you to show everyone who claimed you. You can also expect to find yourself covered in love bites, with his favorite area being your neck.

⚔ If you enjoy rough sex and agree to try out some more "extreme" kinks, Eönwë would love to make use of his sword - the song of steel and battle is ingrained in his very being, after all. As much as the rational part of him hates to see you hurt, the feral part of him is fascinated by the way you shiver when a cold blade is pressed against you or when it leaves beautiful lines of red on your skin and draws a few droplets of blood.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

Cold steel bites into your skin as the blade touches your throat, but you only have eyes for Eönwë. He's breathing heavily, and his fána glows with barely contained lust. 

"I want you," he breathes. 

You spread your legs in silent invitation. Surely he must know that you are already his; even if you decided to fight back now, which is the last thing on your mind, he would be too strong for you. 

"Exactly like this," Eönwë says then, and you understand. He wants to take you with his sword at your throat, utterly at his mercy, and your skin prickles with excitement. 

The prospect of submitting to the greatest warrior of the Maiar so completely is thrilling. 

Eönwë enters you with one swift thrust, his free hand reaching for your hip. You make sure not to move, as you know he wants from you, and welcome him inside. The blade presses against your skin, but only lightly; his hold is steady, his posture impeccable, no blood is drawn. 

You surrender. 

Tilion

☽ Tilion loves antlers, his pride and joy when it comes to his fána, and wants to share that with you. If you yourself are an Ainu and grow your own pair, he will paint them silver with moonlight. If not, he will gladly hunt beasts of your choosing for you to claim their horns or antlers as a prize for you to wear and paint them as well. Nothing makes him more proud than everyone seeing that you belong to him.

☽ In order to make sure you are always safe, even when he isn't around, Tilion also crafts protective moon charms, infused with the light of Telperion's fruit. These are designed to keep creatures of darkness away, fearing his wrath, and may also glow to alert you to nearby danger. Not least of all they come with the additional benefit of letting everyone know that Tilion is only ever one call away.

☽ He loves to be intimate with you whenever he can, worshiping your body to his heart's content. Like his own hunt and war paint, Tilion enjoys painting your skin with matching patterns. These are expressions of love and companionship, glowing hymns to your beauty, but also marks of ownership and desire.

☽ For as hopelessly romantic as Tilion is, never forget that he's also a hunter. When lust overwhelms him, he is a passionate and wild lover, and sex with him can get rough. He enjoys chasing you, catching you and holding you down while he takes you, as well as leaving bite marks all over your body. Rest assured though that he will take good care of you after and do anything to ensure that you're comfortable and at ease.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"You are too beautiful for your own good," Tilion sighs, smiling as he kisses you on the lips. 

You are both naked, lying together on a bed of moss in the woods of Oromë, and panting heavily after a wild and lengthy chase. Of course your lover has caught you in the end and carried you to a comfortable hidden spot to enjoy his prey. 

Tilion trails his hand down your chest, your stomach, your lower body, and you spread your legs in anticipation. He wants you, you can see it; his midnight blue eyes darken with desire. 

"There you go, little deer," whispers gentle praise against your lips before pushing two fingers inside of you. "You will be all nice and wet for me soon, won't you?" 

You nod. Of course you will be; how could you not when you are with your beloved hunter, chasing your love and your pleasure with no less determination and ferocity than he chases his prey. 

Ossë

⚡︎ Ossë is a capricious and jealous lover. His feelings for you are strong and passionate, and he will fight anyone who wishes you ill - or comes closer than he would like. The storms he conjures are mighty, and even if Ulmo and Uinen stop him from giving in to his jealousy, Ossë is also a mischievous Maia who will find other ways to mess with those who have wronged you or him.

⚡︎ You will find yourself getting showered with gifts from him, various trinkets that he picks up in the oceans of Arda: Pearls, seashells, items and parts from sunken ships, bones, teeth and also all sorts of fish and sea creatures he caught for you. Ossë delights in swimming, diving and hunting to his heart's content, but most importantly coming home to you with something new to show you.

⚡︎ Just like he himself is wild and fierce, so is intimacy with him. You will find yourself completely soaked, regardless of whether he takes you in the water (as he prefers) or outside, and covered in bite and scratch marks; Ossë simply can't resist taking a bite out of something as beautiful as you are. He also loves the thought that everyone can tell what you two have done afterwards.

⚡︎ Ossë enjoys being on top of you, all around you and inside you, having his tail wrapped tightly around you. After he's done making love to you, he likes carrying you around like a precious little pearl and singing to you in ancient tongues until you fall asleep. You may also notice that, whenever you've been with him, the scent of seawater sticks with you for days.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

The sand feels warm against your skin, but Ossë's form is cool and smooth. He rolls over so he's lying on top of you, his tail wrapping around your legs, and flashes you a toothy grin, like a hungry sea monster about to devour its unfortunate prey. 

"Should I take you here, marilla? Or should I drag you to the bottom of the ocean first?" he teases. 

Clawed, webbed fingers hold onto you possessively, and Ossë wastes no time nibbling on the side of your neck as you writhe underneath him. 

"Please have mercy, o lord of storms," you gasp, entertaining his little game to entice him to go on. 

You know your words had the intended effect when you feel something hard pressing against your thigh. 

"Perhaps I will," Ossë muses, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

His tail keeps its grip on your legs, and he pushes his now-exposed cock between your thighs to rut against you.

"We will even start slowly," he whispers, "but worry not. You shall feel my full strength soon enough."

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

marilla (Quenya) - pearl

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @saintstars @singleteapot @urwendii

[edensrose]

. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕but in after days he rose like a shadow of morgoth and a ghost of his malice, and walked behind him on the same ruinous path down into the void.

. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ he can't help it, you're just so pretty to look at ꒷꒦ imagine  ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ he just so happens to walk in on you crying ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧◞ꕥ 

꒰ oh does he love and hate it that you're just as cocky as him ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬◞ꕥ 

꒰ you decide to play the 'I want a baby prank' on him ꒷꒦ texts ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ how the dark lord kisses you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶?◞ꕥ 

꒰ the last thing annatar expects is for you to recognise him ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴?◞ꕥ 

꒰ you adore messing with him, so you decide to dodge his kisses ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯◞ꕥ 

꒰ he really tries not to, alas he can't help but get a bit jealous ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft.ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ every once in awhile, mairon enjoys spoiling his lover with a date ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ mairon finds himself fascinated with his s/o's modern world ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft.mairon ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ mairon learns how to act around a s/o who stutters ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦?◞ꕥ 

꒰ he knows it's silly, but he can't help to see green with your ex around ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶◞ꕥ 

꒰ mairon with a s/o who has sa trauma ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ he's so comfortable, how could you not fall asleep on his lap? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘯𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰surprisingly enough, mairon is quite the cuddler ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘵◞ꕥ 

꒰ you gift him the news of your successful pregnancy ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘯𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ angband was always typically cold thanks to melkor's presence. the least he could do was compensate for the iciness you have to deal with  ꒷꒦ 1k follower event ꒷꒦ 0.8k ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ what if the dark lord had a daughter? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘰𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ the dark lord is, indeed, capable of being soft with his s/o  ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ◞ꕥ 

꒰ it's something that he has always feared, losing you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ throughout your eons before and during arda, you found yourself in a friendship between two particular maiar. but what happens when you find yourself falling for one — and then the other? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. eonwe ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧◞ꕥ 

꒰ you were the lover of mairon, one of the most precious things in his life. how did his love become his only weakness ꒷꒦ 1k follower event ꒷꒦ 1.5k ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ accidents happen, unfortunately, this is not something that the dark lords can ever fix ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯◞ꕥ 

꒰ long have you lost mairon to darkness, yet when you meet him again on the battlefield - your heart still yearns for him ꒷꒦ drabble ꒷꒦ backstory ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳?◞ꕥ 

꒰ mairon lost his physical form during the war of wrath and has had his fëa trapped in limbo for centuries. all until an unnamed maia performs a ritual to summon him in such a way that mairon has control over this new form — only to find out that you have moved on ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦  ft. eonwe ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯?◞ꕥ 

꒰ you decide to surprise your lover by asking him to join you in the shower ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ surely your beloved wouldn't mind a few dirty texts while he's a work, right? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱?◞ꕥ 

꒰ he just so happens to stumble in on you touching yourself. . . and decides to watch ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳◞ꕥ 

꒰ it was supposed to be a simple visit to your lover whilst he worked. the last thing you expected was to be the item which he worked on ꒷꒦ 1.1k ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ he couldn't help it, when you're riding him like that how could he not fill you up? ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹

. ˚◞♡ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌◞ ₊˚﹕

˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰ he's obsessed with you, and now you're pregnant with his child ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ yandere!mairon ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳◞ꕥ 

꒰ mairon finds out that you aren’t as innocent as you let on to be, you have a particular love for elven flesh ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 &  𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ yandere alphabet with mairon ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ part 2 ꒱ ₊˚⊹

˚◞❀˳ 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘶◞ꕥ 

꒰ seems like the conniving strategists of one of the most renowned mercenary syndicates in arda takes an interest in you ꒷꒦ dark!mairon ꒷꒦ multiwork ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ 

꒰ perhaps you should have felt honoured that the dark lord saw potential in you, yet sometimes it felt like a crushing curse. but what can you do? other than let him pull the strings as he always does ꒷꒦ 2.1k ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ 

꒰after being captured along with your lover, you had the unfortunate twist of fate by catching mairon’s eye ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. maedhros ꒱ ₊˚⊹ 

[doodle-pops]

Pocket-Sized AU! Elves Adventures

A/N: In celebration of recently earning 1.5k followers, I couldn’t help but share a project I had been working on since January 2022. Returning to my old Wattpad days of Pocket-Sized Imagines, I decided to create this for fun and as a new AU with excitement to share. I do hope you all enjoy these pieces I've made!!

Context: Follow through on an adventure with different elves as your Pocket-sized friend.

Style of Content: Headcanons & Alternative Route

Introduction: When your life had been down the drain in the past few months and your lack of having good friends became an issue, you found yourself isolated. Days rolled into weeks and nothing seemed to be working no matter how much you pleaded to have good friends in your life. Growing frustrated in a final plea for comfort and someone to care for and adore you, one day, you decided to shut the world out.

However, you awoke to the sound of an anonymous knocking on your door. Rushing, hoping for a moment of opportunity, you came face-to-face with a giant grey box sitting on your porch and a note attached, addressed to you.

𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑌/𝑁,

𝐼 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝐼 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

𝑀𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑗𝑜𝑦, 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘!

𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦,

𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠

𝑃.𝑆: 𝐷𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑠.

Growing more confused about the letter and the contents of the box, you first peered around your porch for the suspect before eyeing the box. Taking a deep breath and reaching out to unfurl the silver ribbon, the box came undone to reveal multiple smaller boxes of the same colour, yet, one stood out the most. The same grey box, but with the addition of a red bow.

Tempted to unravel this box first, you reached forward and brought it closer until there was a muffled “Hey! Hey! Careful!” making you freeze for a moment before ripping the cover off to reveal a tiny person inside.

Gasping and nearly falling on your butt, you braced yourself against the doorframe as you were caught in a staredown with this mini-person. Larger eyes staring in panic at smaller, softer and much serene ones.

“You’re a...what are you exactly?” you doubted in astonishment and interest, focusing on the movement and expression he cast.

“I’m not a ‘what’, I’m a ‘who’. Who am I?” he rectified as he stood upright with tiny hands upon his waist while looking up at your gigantic figure. “I am an elf, and a pocket-sized one to be precise, sent here to care for you and be your friend...so my Master says!"

Speechless at his ability to move around and speak like an ordinary person, you were slightly dumbfounded. “Ah...”

“You must be the giant mortal my Master spoke of? Y/N was it? I am...”

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ House of Feanor

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ House of Fingolfin

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ House of Finarfin

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Lords of Gondolin

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Doriath

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ House of Elrond

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ Gil Galad & Gwindor

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ The Ainur

Masterlist

Taglist: @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @mcwentfandomtraveling @ladyenchanted @aconstructofamind @lamemaster @stormchaser819 @hermaeuswhora @zheiya @addaigio @elficially-done-with-life @eunoiaastralwings

©doodle-pops 2024: no permission to repost, upload, translate or plagiarise on any platform. I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. Please do not steal my content.

[thirteenducks]

smoke and wine

(diluc x fem!reader) [suggestive, but SFW]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader wears a dress and is referred to as 'her'), some suggestive content, no established relationship

༻❁༺ word count: ~4.7k

༻❁༺ tags: self indulgent stormfic, adelinde best mother figure AND wingwoman, flustered diluc supremacy, reader does not want to cause trouble for diluc, diluc desperately wants reader to cause trouble for him, diluc wears boxer briefs because i said so, rampant use of ellipses

༻❁༺ author's note: i am back to offer you this with my hands outstretched before i vanish into the void for another six months :/ regardless, thank you for reading! <33 this fic was inspired by this lovely art by @mmmairon https://www.tumblr.com/mmmairon/733185437964926976/hi-mairon-i-love-the-self-insert-comfort-you-did?source=share please go check it out!

Diluc is a simple man. If there's something he can provide, he'll go out of his way to do it. And if that means allowing you to stay at his home for the night during a fierce storm, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort.

Before today, you had considered yourself rather proficient in predicting the weather for your forays into the Mondstadt hills. Experience had given you somewhat of a sixth sense for which afternoons would yield sunny skies and which would leave you huddled under a tree during a downpour.

This storm, however, had truly come out of nowhere. 

When your feet finally find the steps of the vineyard path ahead of you, you’re already too drenched to bother running from the rain. Your shoes, unfit for travel through the rain-soaked countryside, leave puddles behind everywhere you step; your dress is so soaked through that it must leave nothing to the imagination. 

You shiver, thanking Barbatos that you seem to be the only unfortunate traveler caught in this downpour. At least the grates of the grapevines above you give you some form of cover from the lashing sheets of rain.

Through the raindrops in your eyes, you gaze at the herbs in your basket, their delicate leaves sodden and dripping. Once the storm has passed, and you've returned home, you doubt they will be much worth keeping. So much for freshly-gathered, you lament.

Distracted by your mournful predictions, you hardly notice the dirt beneath your feet has turned to stone and you’re suddenly before the imposing building that dominates the landscape. Above you, lanterns on posts swing wildly in the wind, illuminating the grand wooden door of Dawn Winery.

As you huddle beneath the scant protection of the balcony above, poised to knock, you’re inevitably reminded of the only other time you’d encountered the owner of this estate. 

In the many months since, you’d learned which places to avoid in the Mondstadt countryside due to high monster traffic. That morning, however, the abyss mage had appeared out of nowhere in the sunny meadow of sweet flowers, leering at you and your lack of a weapon. You had barely gathered the presence of mind to drop what you were holding and run when the noise of boots, fast approaching, came from behind you. In another second, a blur of red and black had sped by and a gloved hand was pushing you down to the ground. Overhead, a blast of ice meant for your heart had split the sky above you instead.

Before you could regain your wits, the horrible sound of what you could only imagine were the monster’s last words tore through the air and flames, red and deep orange, surrounded you. The blue of the sky above you was ringed with fire.

Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you had scrambled to your feet, fear shooting through you like lightning as the flames licked higher and hotter around your boots -

And then they were gone, extinguished in an instant. Your breaths coming fast and shallow, you had inspected yourself for injuries and found nothing amiss but a few singed pieces of hair.

The gloved hand had appeared again in your field of vision, hovering hesitantly near your shoulder. 

“Are you alright? That attack didn’t hit you, did it?”

The voice was low and unfamiliar, and you had followed the sound until your eyes caught a mane of red hair in a sea of black. He smelled like smoke; you could see it emanating off the massive sword he held in his other hand.

“I’m not hurt, thank you. I had no idea this area wasn’t safe...” You murmured, gazing at the now-scorched patch of flowers you had stood so peacefully in a moment before. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, sir.” You offered your hand and name in introduction, and he had taken both with a gentle grace. His questioning eyes alighted on your belongings, dress, and hair before returning to your face.

“Please, call me Diluc. Of Dawn Winery,” he answers, anticipating your question.  “I’m the one who should apologize. This one -” he glances down at the ground in distaste, where a few shining leaves are all that is left of the abyss mage - “got away from me last night, and I’ve been chasing it down ever since. Really, it’s my fault.”

You duck your head in gratitude. “Thank you regardless, Diluc. I’ll make sure to avoid this area in the future...” You trail off sadly. This had been the best hill in the area to collect sweet flowers...

His face had changed a bit at your vow, so quickly you might have imagined it, before his handsome features returned to an unreadable expression. The exchange had not lasted long past that point. 

“Keep yourself safe,” were his brief parting words, leaving you with a nod before starting at a brisk pace toward the building in the distance.

And now that same building is before you once more. Drawing your bag closer to you in trepidation, you knock, the sound barely reaching your ears over the roar of thunder overhead.

You don’t have to wait long in the harsh wind before the giant door swings open and you’re face to face with the same man from all those months ago, staring at you with his mouth slightly parted. You blink at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to say, until a woman’s soft voice calls from behind him in the doorway.

“Master Diluc? Is there someone out there?”

A middle-aged woman with a kind expression peers over Diluc’s shoulder at you and gasps. 

“Master Diluc! What are you doing, keeping her out here in all this rain?” she chides, pushing Diluc’s shoulder to punctuate her sentence, and he blinks as if coming out of a trance. He steps out of the doorway and allows the woman to grab you gently by the hand and lead you into the warm, carpeted foyer. The great door swings shut behind you with a soft thud and you allow yourself an exhale of relief at being out of the storm, if only for a few minutes.

“Goodness, you’re soaked through.” The woman, who wears a maid’s uniform, putters around you, taking your belongings from your grasp and hanging them on a stand next to the door. As she circles you, murmuring with concern, you take the opportunity to explain yourself.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, ma’am, I was just gathering herbs near Stone Gate when the downpour started...” You lock eyes with Diluc, who has not said a word yet. Your resolve wavers, but a drop of water cascading down your back causes you to shiver and you remember your situation. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I impose upon you until the worst of the storm passes?” Your teeth chatter a bit as a draft catches your soaked clothing. “I promise I won’t make too much trouble for -”

You’re cut off by the sensation of something large and warm surrounding you. It smells of smoke and wine and you look up in surprise to see Diluc, now bare to the arm, settling his overcoat on your shoulders. A light shade of pink dusts his cheekbones.

“This storm isn’t likely to pass before tomorrow morning at the earliest,” he rumbles, avoiding your eyes. “Adelinde, please tell Moco and Hillie to prepare a bath and fresh sheets in the downstairs guest room.” 

The warm timbre of his voice is tinged with something you can’t identify. Before you can protest, the woman, who must be Adelinde, gives him a nod. She curtsies to you with a smile and takes her leave.

Now standing alone with Diluc, you hurriedly voice your objections and promise to be on your way after you dry off a bit and perhaps borrow an umbrella. The man in front of you, however, refuses to acquiesce.

“You’ll at least let Adelinde feed you dinner, won’t you? It’s quite late already,” he remarks, glancing out the bay window at the darkened sky. “Have you eaten?”

At your dissenting response, he nods as if all is settled. You stare down at your shoes in mingled embarrassment and relief, watching the pools of water sink into the rich carpet. 

Diluc clears his throat and moves his hand to hover behind the small of your back as he walks towards the fireplace. “Please, wait here for Adelinde to return. I’ll speak to her about getting you some dry clothes to wear for the night,” he says, gesturing to the couch in front of the fire.

You grimace as you sit, the damp fabric of your dress sticking to you and probably ruining the plush velvet of the sofa. Not to mention Diluc’s coat...

Before you can dwell too long on that, Adelinde reappears with a steaming cup of tea that she sets in front of you. She appears to be in conversation with Diluc about something across the table as you sip your tea, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into your bones.

“It’s awful luck that everything had to be taken in from the clotheslines when it started to rain,” she sighs. “There’s not a dry piece of women’s clothing in the house, I’m afraid.”

Diluc hums in contemplation. “I suppose mine will have to do, then. As long as it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, of course...” He trails off as he turns to you, his cheeks pink again.

You laugh a bit, good humor returning to your body as the warmth does. “I’ll take any clothing you have to offer, Adelinde. Truly, thank you.”

She smiles, and before you can say anything else, Diluc has gotten to his feet and is already halfway up the stairs. Your eyes follow him as he goes, afraid you’ve said something wrong, but Adelinde just laughs and gestures for you to stand.

“Don’t mind him. The young master’s always that straightforward. Let’s get you into a warm bath, hm?” She starts for the hallway at a brisk pace, ignoring your concerns about the water you’re tracking across the floor.

As the head maid leads you to the guest room, Diluc stands in his own quarters, staring at his bureau with a look of deliberation that a complex military maneuver might inspire. All around him, various pieces of clothing lay rejected. He’s glaring daggers at his pants drawer, which he now realizes contains only neatly folded black slacks and pairs of underwear.

Do I really only wear slacks and boxer briefs?

That’s a question for another day. For now, he lays out his options.

He can’t... he can’t offer you his underwear to wear. That’s out of the question. Few things could be less appropriate to lend to a guest, let alone a pretty... 

He shakes his head. His face is burning just thinking about it.

But wouldn’t you be uncomfortable in dress pants? They’d hardly fit you, anyways, so you might have to wear a belt as well just to keep them up... And could you really sleep in them? You’d probably end up shedding them, right?

He shakes his head again before he can go any further with that... dangerous thought.

He huffs. This is going nowhere. He’ll have to bring them both to Adelinde and see what she has to say, he thinks as he descends the staircase with a stack of clothes in hand.

Meanwhile, you stand with Adelinde in the most lavish guest bedroom you’ve ever set foot in. The bedspread, softer than a lamb as you run your hand over it, matches the curtains of the four-poster bed it rests on and the wall behind it. She opens the door to the attached bathroom, where a steaming claw-foot tub stands in the center. The aroma coming from it is like that of the lampgrass you had been collecting that afternoon before the storm hit, and it draws you to it like a moth to flame.

Adelinde curtsies to you and asks you to simply leave your wet clothes by the door and she’ll send someone to pick them up and deliver dry clothes in a bit. With that, she shuts the bedroom door behind you and leaves you to disrobe in the sweet-smelling bathroom.

After so long with your soaked garments clinging to you, peeling them off feels incredible. The water is the perfect temperature as you slide into it, feeling the stress of the afternoon melt away from your shoulders. The soaps next to the bath are thick and luxurious, perfuming the air with a thousand faint floral scents.

You don’t know how long you sit there, half-awake and submerged to the nose in the sweet-smelling water, until a knock at the bedroom door brings you back to reality.

Thinking it to be Adelinde or another maid, you straighten up and stretch your arms. You’d rather not get up and let her in yourself, so you merely call out your permission to let herself in. After all, the water’s so nice, and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with but a towel, anyways. 

The door opens quietly and a heavy step can be heard entering the bedroom and shuffling around a bit until it suddenly pauses. 

That’s odd. “Adelinde?” you call, rising a bit in the water to peek into the bedroom through the open door. No answer comes.

Furrowing your brow, you move to get out of the tub when the panicked voice of a man rings through the room.

“Wait! Wait, please... Archons, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you were - the door is - ”

It’s Diluc. He sounds more flustered than you thought was possible of such a stoic man.

“I just came to drop these off,” he continues, voice discomposed, and there’s a sound of something being placed on a chair. “Please forget this happened. I- I apologize a thousand times. I’ll, um, wait outside - please, forgive me... I’m leaving now, I swear.” 

And with that, the bedroom door closes with a thunk. You’re left frozen, your hands on the rim of the tub, your face a fetching shade of scarlet.

Diluc, on the opposite side of the door, is in no better shape. Not only had he walked in on you while you were- not only had he imposed upon you, but he had completely forgotten his objective of having Adelinde choose your clothing. Which meant, of course, that you were about to walk out of the bath and be faced with an odd selection of things to clothe yourself with.

It’s not like he can go back in and tell you it’s a mistake, though. Diluc sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, willing his heart rate to go down. Idiot. He’s an idiot.

Since the least he can do now is protect you from any further embarrassment, he thinks, he takes up a guard position outside your bedroom door.

It helps to know that at least it’s just him and the maids in the house, so you have no one else to worry about. It doesn’t help to know that you’re currently bare and covered in soap a scant twenty feet from him.

He buries his head in his hands again.

Meanwhile, you’ve removed yourself from the tub and are drying off while waiting for your pulse to return to normal. The towel in your hands is probably the fluffiest thing you’ve ever touched, yet it barely registers in your mind at the moment.

You weigh the ethics of telling Adelinde you’ve suddenly fallen violently ill and cannot come to dinner, but eventually you’ve gathered yourself enough to inspect the clothing Diluc brought you. There’s a black dress shirt, which is softer against your skin than it first looked as you button it up to your collarbone. Like his coat, it too carried a familiar fragrance of smoke and wine.

Turning to the rest of the stack, you’re confused to see a pair of dress pants and a pair of men’s... underwear?

They also smell like him… you think, as you pull them on.

Diluc, still fighting a blush, is leaning against the wall outside your door when Adelinde finds him. A hurried conversation ensues that you don’t catch much of from inside, but it’s clear enough that Adelinde is laughing at her master’s expense. 

She knocks, asking if you’re dressed, and waits for your affirmation before she enters. You hold up the slacks to her, a question on your lips, but the head maid puts her hand on yours before you say a word.

“You don’t have to wear those unless you want to. I know they’re far from the most comfortable pants in the world. Besides, it’s only Master Diluc and us maids here,” she assures you. “You have nothing to worry about, dear. It’s up to you.” You return her smile and fold the slacks, passing them to her waiting hand. “Why don’t you come sit by the fire while I set the table?” 

Thus assured, you leave the safety of the guest bedroom in only Diluc’s shirt and boxer briefs. Outside, the lord of the manor himself is standing in the hallway with a look of contrition on his face. 

He turns at the sound of the door and his eyes meet yours. 

It’s fatal. You offer him a smile, hoping to pretend the earlier situation never happened, but you’re met instead with a blank stare that makes you falter. Was he… angry? 

Archons, did he think you had let him into your room on purpose while you were undressed? The thought sends you spiraling. This was bad. You have to fix this. You fiddle with the hem of the dress shirt and prepare to apologize.

Across from you, Diluc is fighting an uphill battle with his self control to keep his eyes on yours as you stand before him in only his underwear. 

You were supposed to be wearing pants. Not… fuck, you’re staring at him like he has three heads. He has to say something. He has to set your mind at ease. He has to be a gentleman.

Think of Varka. Think of Seamus Pegg. Think of fucking Barbatos. For the love of Celestia do not think of anything else. Now SAY something.

“...How was your bath?” 

You blink. “It was… lovely, thank you.”

DO NOT THINK OF HER IN THE BATH. 

By the grace of whatever archons are watching over him, Diluc manages to carry a stilted conversation with you in which he apologizes profusely for his behavior earlier.

You do your best to reassure him that it was an honest mistake and no harm was done (except to your heart, but you’d hardly admit that). You soon find that he’s also asking your pardon for the “inappropriate” selection of clothes he brought you, however.

“Please, don’t apologize. They’re very comfortable.” You smile at him and Diluc feels his heart skip far too many beats. “Thank you again for your kindness, Diluc.” Archons, he loves the way you say his name. You’ll kill him at this rate.

Soon he’s falling into step behind you as Adelinde leads you into the dining room and seats you by the fire with a blanket. Satisfied that you’re comfortable, he turns and prepares to return to his study for the evening. 

Before he can, though, he’s arrested by your voice, innocently asking if he wouldn’t be joining you for dinner.

“I’m afraid I have… work to attend to,” he murmurs, glancing up to his office. “My apologies. I hope you enjoy- ow, Adelinde -”

The maid in question has two fingers wrapped around Diluc’s ear and is wearing a look of exasperation as she tugs on it, ignoring his words of protest. In a voice that suggests this is a common occurrence, she strongly forbids him from doing any more work tonight.

“Is it not the job of the master of the manor to keep his guests company?”

“Adelinde...”

“Master Diluc.”

He sighs, meeting your eyes with a sheepish look. “It appears that I’ll be joining you after all.”

With that, he settles himself in the armchair adjoining your couch, allowing his large frame to relax into it. A pleasant quiet descends as you watch the fire, listening to the maids readying the meal in the kitchen and the storm as it continues to rage outside.

You’re brought out of your reverie by Diluc’s voice, softer than you’ve yet heard it.

“May I ask how you found yourself out in the downpour this afternoon?”

You smile. “For the same reason I was out the first time we met.” He nods in recognition, glancing at the gathering bag and basket that still hang by the door to the winery.

“So, you’re a botanist, then? Or maybe an herbalist?”

The two of you continue this way, Diluc asking you questions about yourself in a low voice, and you answering them in the same soft tone. You lose track of time in the easy back-and-forth. 

After what feels like only a few minutes, a maid alerts you that dinner is ready; you rise and stretch, the blanket falling away from where it covers your bare legs. Diluc pointedly looks away, but you’re too distracted by the lovely smells coming from the table behind you to pay him any mind.

Walking ahead of you, Diluc draws out the seat adjacent to the head of the table and waits for you to sit before taking his own seat. The maids have been busy: a pot of tea, a bottle of sparkling wine, plates of roast beef, green beans, buttered potatoes, and stuffing, a tray of candied pecans, an apple tart, and a myriad of smaller dishes all line the ornate table. For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to take a portion of anything. 

Fortunately, Adelinde appears beside you and asks which and how much of each dish you would like, and soon your plate is as full as it can be.

For a while, the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you eat. The food is beyond reproach. Either the maids and Adelinde have pulled out all the stops tonight for you, or wealthy estate owners eat like this every night. You’re not sure which makes you feel more out of place, but the food is too delicious and you’re too tired to dwell on such things now.

Periodically, Diluc asks how you’re liking a certain dish or if you would like more of what you’re drinking. As the maids top off your glass of wine and you begin to feel the day catch up with you, however, your responses to Diluc get slower and shorter until you can barely keep your eyes open. 

Through your lowered lids, you’re graced with the sight of a rare smile as the man next to you takes you in. He stands, offering you an ungloved hand in a silent offer to escort you to your room. You’re too exhausted to notice the color that comes to his face when you gladly take it and get to your stumbling feet. 

By the time you’ve reached the door to your room, you’re leaning more on him than you are on your own legs. Offering Diluc a drowsy smile, you bow a little and thank him once again. He returns it in kind, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. He’s never looked more handsome.

“Have a restful night. With any luck, the storm will abate by morning. Please, if there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to come ask me.”

And with that, he leaves you to the plush sheets of the guest room. You’re asleep almost before your head hits the pillow.

You dream of smoke and wine.

In the small hours of the morning, you awake to a cold draft that makes you shiver and a mind fuzzy from sleep. You try in vain to return to sleep, the soft silk sheets beckoning to you, but a peal of thunder seems to shake the house every time you close your eyes.

Sighing, you sit up and rub your eyes. It’s almost pitch black in the room; the sun won’t rise for several hours yet.

Maybe you could make yourself a cup of tea? You shiver a bit, drawing the covers tighter around you. Sitting by the fire doesn’t sound bad, either.

Your feet are quiet on the carpeted floor as you gently open your bedroom door and step into the hallway. Sure enough, there’s a flickering light from the main room; the fire must be still alive in the grate.

You gather the blanket around you and hurry towards the warmth, only to stop short at the silhouette of a figure sitting where you were earlier. You take another tentative step onto the floorboards, but a creak gives you away. The figure stiffens and turns to face you.

Diluc’s face and frame relaxes when he sees you, but there is still a hint of worry in his tone when he asks, “Is there something wrong? Are you warm enough in your room?”

You nod, stepping gingerly around the couch to sit next to him. He shifts a little to give you more space as you pull your legs up beside you. “Everything’s fine. I just went to bed a little too early,” you assure him. “Could I trouble you to let me into the kitchen? I’d like to make myself a cup of tea, if it’s alright.”

“Please, allow me,” he murmurs, producing a pot and a second cup from the table next to him, where he was apparently enjoying one himself.

You sip it gratefully, allowing the taste to linger in your mouth. “May I ask why the esteemed Master Diluc is still awake at this hour?”

He smiles a bit at that and mentions that he never sleeps well during storms.

The two of you watch the flames as you sip your tea, listening to the patter of rain on the roof. Even at this hour, the fire is still going strong. A thought strikes you and you turn to Diluc’s lap.

Sure enough, his vision is glowing, pulsing in a gentle bump-bump pattern that you’ve heard matches the wielder’s heartbeat. It relaxes you to see it so steady and dependable.

Before long, the warmth of the fire and the tea have lulled you back soundly to sleep. 

For the first time today, Diluc allows his gaze to rake over you unhindered.

You, asleep on his couch in his manor. Smelling like him. Dressed in his shirt and underwear.

In only his shirt and underwear, the least helpful part of his brain reminds him, and he has to stare at the fire for a while to curb that train of thought. It’s difficult when his gaze keeps flickering back to you anyway.

He counts himself lucky you’re not awake to see how the fire in the grate has grown in size and intensity, or how the vision on his hip is flickering in a wild bmp-bmp-bmp.

After reciting everything he knows of Mondstadtian foreign policy in his head a few times, he’s able to tone down the blush on his face enough to be manageable. As for the familiar, tight ache in his pants, he regards it as a lost cause. For now.

Diluc stands, stretching his arms with a quiet groan before turning to your sleeping form. He gently scoops you up into strong arms and wraps you tighter in the blanket you’re still clinging to, careful not to wake you. As he begins the slow walk to your doorway, a small smile adorns his face.

Upon ducking into your room, careful not to hit your legs against the doorway, he frowns. It’s much colder here than it was in the living room. He’ll have to do something about that.

As he places you under the covers, he unclips the vision from his thigh and folds it into your hand, where it thrums with a gentle rhythm . You drift awake for a moment, recognizing the red mane that hangs over your chest as Diluc tucks in the blanket around you.

Seeing your eyes flicker, he calls your name gently. “Are you comfortable?” You nod with a smile that hurts his heart in the best way. 

“Thank you, Diluc,” you murmur blearily, and he laughs a bit. You have just enough consciousness left to decide it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard as you slip back under the blanket of sleep.

That night, as the storm continues to rage outside his bedroom windows, Diluc sleeps better than he has in a long time. Downstairs, his vision pulses in your hand to his steady heartbeat.

You dream of warmth.

[two-white-butterflies]

Choose five of your favorite ocs (be it yours or another) and pass it on to 5 different people! Spread oc love

I haven't read a lot of fics with OCs lately, but here are my (few) favorite ones. (some of these are not OCS)

Queen Maereth from @sotwk. I love how motherly and feminine Maereth is. She is Thranduil's perfect match. I reread all the fics/headcanons about Thranduil and Maereth every month 🥺 I love all their sons. I could finish this post by naming all their children. If ya'll love LOTR/TH/ROP please check out sotwk's blog because it is the epitome of Tolkien loving.

Princess Saera Targaryen from coaxed you into paradise. This is a shameless self-plug in. I wrote her during a time where I was still honing my fanfic-writing powers. She isn't the best flawless OC, but she's the one closest to my heart ❤️ I'm a sucker for kind and feminine OCs, so I made her out to be everything that her sister isn't. Whereas Rhaenyra had to put on a strong front as the heir apparent, Saera had the freedom to be kind and flawed.

Reader in @youvebeenlivingfictional 's Bad Faith (x Harvey Specter). This is the best Harvey Specter fanfic in the ecosystem. You can insert yourself shamelessly in the reader part, as all the characters seem to act their character. There was an amazing characterization of Harvey, Mike and Jessica. The words that the author used, I can imagine being uttered in Suits. I LOVE THIS FANFIC SO MUCH!! 10/10

Reader in @edensrose 's When Darkness Reigns (x Thranduil, x Mairon love triangle). This is also one of my favorite fanfics. Constantly lives in my head rent free. I love how sassy Mairon is, but I also enjoy the characterization of Thranduil as he is corrupted by darkness to protect his people. Really dances will with Tolkien's motif: goodness cannot be determined by the destination, but the means to get there.

Theradis in @mismaeve 's Long Live The Queen (x Thranduil). Yes, I'm obsessed with Thranduil. I love the theme of corruption portrayed in this fic. Reminds me of that one episode in Encantadia where Mine-a was brought back to life, corrupted by evil, and forced to fight against the people that she loves. I love that even when fighting against each other, they can't ignore the pulse of love.

That's all! Thank you anon.

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Greetings, dear readers. Here you shall find my writing masterlist. I regularly take requests, and can write for The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, and The Witcher. I dally in gender-specific, gender-diverse, and gender-neutral reader inserts, and am happy to cater. Read on and let your mind drift away into a world of submersible imagination…

She’s the Man (Fellowship X Disguised as Boy! Reader!)

The Road Less Traveled (Fellowship x Pregnant! Reader)

The Road Less Traveled (Part 2) (Legolas x Mother! Reader)

“Thanks, I Owe You Guys One.” (Fellowship x Reader)

Speak My Language (Fellowship x Hurt! Reader)

Leap of Faith (Fellowship x Reader)

Wrong End of the Ithillien Stick (Legolas x Reader)

Not a Hero (Fellowship x Soldier! Reader)

Elf Got Your Tongue? (Legolas x Reader)

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

And Then There Were Two (Legolas x Reader) (One Bed Trope)

The Softest Shout (Fili x Reader)

Silver is the New Sexy (Kili x Reader)

Imagine the Fellowship comforting you as you reveal your aro/ace identity to them

Imagine accidentally marrying Legolas whilst drunk in Edoras

Imagine Legolas only yelling at you in Sindarin when angry

Imagine spending your Sweet 16 with the Fellowship

Imagine Mairon and Melkor dangling you over lava to extract information from you

Imagine helping Legolas deal with a sprained ankle

Imagine waiting at the battle of Helms Deep

Imagine Thranduil helping you deal with your skin insecurities

Imagine you, a bard, writing the song ‘Soldier, Poet, King’ about Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas

Imagine Gandalf taking the Fellowship to you after they’ve all been turned into animals

Imagine you, a journalist, forcing your way into the Fellowship of the Ring

Imagine having a spa day with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli

Imagine Legolas becoming a “bridezilla” at your wedding

Imagine Aragorn and Legolas helping hide your mermaid identity from the rest of the Fellowship

Imagine having a playful songwriter rivalry with Maglor

Teaching the Fellowship to drive a car would include: (Fellowship x Reader)

Imagine having Maglor as your neighbour in the 21st century

[celebbun]

1, 3, 13

1. The character everyone gets wrong

Thranduil. The movies did him so dirty and the fandom just ate that portrayal up with zero critical thought or ideas of its own and honestly? Both movie canon and fanon Thranduil suck ass.

I don't go into his tag anymore because I know all I'm gonna get is some variation of dead wife headcanon, bar/duil or reader insert smut.

Not to mention the 2014 "party king" cringe.

3. Screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

Today's "Celegorm is obviously pronounced Selegorm because English words are pronounced like that sometimes, nevermind the actual existing pronunciation rules for Sindarin" is definitely a contender!

But what really takes the cake is, as always, antis. You know the drill: your likes and dislikes in fandom reflect your moral standing, things they don't like automatically being wrong because obviously their sense of morality is the only Correct™ one and everyone should change their tastes to fit theirs, fic and fanart being responsible for normalizing taboo topics in real life society (I have to laugh at this one in particular, lmao).

13. Worst blorbofication

Is blorbofication like woobification?

- Maedhros and Maglor are always big ones. The whole thing with people trying to sanitize them to make the "kidnap fam" look better just ain't it.

- Celebrimbor. I feel like fandom leans way too hard on "poor dear Tyelpe was a ray of sunshine and a cinnamon roll and could never do wrong" and that takes away from his character. Still looking for a Celebrimbor I find compelling. This is a character fandom made me dislike.

- Mairon. Yes, I said it. Mairon apparently has two settings in the fandom: 1- he's a terrible irredeemable person with zero good characteristics; a big ol' sadist, rapes as a hobby, main villain of every single fic where people want their faves tortured (seriously, so tired) and 2- he's a poor little baby who was soooo abused by Melkor so he obviously has no fault in anything he's done 🥺

Both of those absolutely fucking suck.

Choose violence ask game

[cilil]

Oh I have so many lovely fics to share this week!🖤

Foggy Breath by @i-did-not-mean-to. A lovely reader-insert BDSM fic with sub!Caranthir - delicious! IDNMT has singlehandedly made me fall in love with angry submissive Cara :D

Infatuation by @elentarial, written for the Ainur Secret Santa - not for me, but I feel blessed by this contribution nonetheless! I am utterly obsessed with the way Finarfin, Gil-Galad and Eönwë in particular were written in this one

Our Antlers Tangled by @saintstars, in which Melkor and Mairon have a meet-violent (my new favorite tag) in the woods of Oromë during the Feast of Horns, a hunting festival and certified night of debauchery

Night Moth by @lvsifer. A thrilling tale of Mairon seducing the Witch King of Angmar, with a slow burn and character study approach - but we will also get some smut later on ;)

Of Gods And Monsters by @fraeuleinfriedhof. Mairon again, this time with Ar-Pharazôn and as expected it's not fluffy - but the way my dear @fraeuleinfriedhof writes these two is sooo good.

Finrod/Sauron by @curufiin. Can't get enough of dark and messy Mairon content? Here's more, featuring some spicy Tol-in-Gaurhoth action. Great portrayal of both of these characters!

Dream & Fantasy by @maironite, in which our OCs Írilómë and Amarëa have a fun little dream encounter and a certain local incubus tries and fails to seduce the daughter of the sun

Everyone has been writing great stuff and I feel blessed that I get to read the works of so many amazing writers in this fandom🖤

Happy Friday, Fellowship! 💛

Fic recs are the best way to help promote someone else’s works! Find some of your favorite fics, they could be WIPs, completed, old, new, whatever you want to share, and rec at least (1) of them for us and your followers to see! Who knows, it might just be the fic someone out there is looking for!

Bonus: tag the author (if possible) and share with us why you are recommending this fic!

[kiatheinsomniac]

KIA DARLING, for your 1k event! Could I request Mairon with this prompt: ❝  i was sort’ve hoping you needed me.  is that selfish?  ❞ ? I'll give you free reign. Congratulations again, you deserve so much more with the sheer QUALITY of your writing <3

notes: sAYS YOU, one of my fav silm writers kicking of her own valar fic revolution AHAHA and yeah... I see what you mean about getting asks and being called darling now... hehehe

pairing: Mairon x maia! Reader

word count: 2.2k

☾ ⋆ﾟ  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

I was sort've hoping you needed me. Is that selfish?

You beamed a grin at the glittering flower in your hands, petals made of shimmering jewels, the stem of meticulously styled and wound precious metal. They glimmered in the light of the trees that filtered in through the tall windows of his workshop and your eyes flickered up to meet his amber ones. 

Mairon’s fiery hair spilled over his shoulders as he leaned down towards you, lips hovering over yours for a moment before pressing to yours so sweetly, hands at your waist pulling you close as those soft lips peppered kissed across your face and came to stop at your forehead. “When it withers,” he began in a gentle whisper, “I shall stop loving you, and not a second before, I promise you that.” You rested your head against his chest, letting go of the crafted flower with one hand so that you could wrap your arm around him, holding him close. 

“I love you...” You murmured, nose nudging against his neck as you inhaled deeply, his scent a familiar mix of the smoke from the forge and something like a warm and sweet spice, “I adore you…” Your free hand found his, lacing your fingers together, “Come with me, you deserve a break. You work so hard here, allow yourself a moment to breathe – with me.” He seemed hesitant but you reached up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, “Please.” He seemed to hesitate before something in your eyes melted whatever resolve he might have had, nodding his head as you smiled at him, beginning to lead him away from the workshop where he seemed to live at times. 

The two of you rested under the privacy of a willow tree, the branches concealing the two of you as you leaned back against the trunk, long arms of the tree casting a curtain around the both of you. Mairon’s head rested in your lap, your hands gently combing through his hair, idly braiding and unbraiding those fiery locks. You leaned down to give him a lingering kiss, feeling how his hand came up so that his fingers could featherly dance against your jaw, caressing your skin. 

“When was the last time you allowed yourself to simply relax, my love?” You asked as your thumb caressed his cheek and his brows furrowed, knowing you would not like his answer. 

“Three days ago…” You sighed and brushed some hair behind his ear. 

“That isn’t good for you. I shouldn’t have to seek you out just for you to realise that it’s time to step away for a moment.” Your voice was soft but firm, knowing this was a difficult habit that your lover wished to break. You were ever reflective of your nature as a maia of Ulmo, assisting in bringing rain down upon the earth: harsh at times, yes, but nourishing. 

“I know…” He replied, “But I cannot rest until I’ve perfected a project, I cannot leave it flawed or it chases sleep from me.” 

“I know why you strive for perfection, my love,” You began, “but you have nothing to prove to anyone. You are the most gifted maia of Aulë, you are more than enough. I know that your perfectionism comes from fear of shame, you need not admit-” He sat up and you worried for a moment that you had crossed a line but this was something he needed to hear, “-it. You are allowed to make mistakes, they’re necessary steps to self-improvement which can never be achieved if you let yourself be chained down by this perfectionism.” 

“You sound like them…” His voice was quiet, his back to you now. You knew who he was referring to, the valar and maiar who criticised his, oftentimes obsessive, perfectionism. However, you knew that his reputation came with a pressure to succeed, to present his work as flawless. 

“No, my love, I don’t.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, “I understand your struggle and I admire your dedication, your attention to detail, these are strengths but not when you allow your fear of shame and failure to control them, to stunt them from being tools that you would use to thrive.” You shifted from where you were sitting to press your front to his side, wrapping your arms around his neck as you rested your chin on his shoulder, waiting for him to look at you, “Do not allow them, do not allow yourself, to corrupt your strengths.” He hung his head, hair hiding his face from you, “You are more than enough, my love, this is an unwavering truth that I will not allow you to deny.” He finally turned to face you and nodded his head slightly, swallowing hard. You could see a turmoil of emotions behind those amber eyes and you knew better than to press him any further when this was already difficult enough for him. 

“Thank you.” His voice came out in a whisper and he turned to return your embrace, pulling you into his lap as he held you close, burying his face in your hair as the two of you remained there, hidden beneath the willow tree in the garden. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stood upon a hill with the mountains surrounding Angband in the distance, watching the small cloud of dust, which you knew to be a rider, coming closer and closer. After much debate between Ulmo and Manwë, you had been ordered to travel to Angband and bring Mairon back to the west, to steer him from this dark path that Melkor had turned him onto. Rain began to patter down onto the desolate land around you. You had been unable to convince him once before and you could only hope that perhaps things would be different this time, that the time and distance since that might be enough to change the outcome this time. 

He had tried to convince you as you had him and you had no doubt that he would try again now. Neither of you had won that day and you hoped that one of you, at least, would win today – perhaps it was selfish but you merely longed for an outcome that allowed you to be with your Mairon. You glanced down to the crafted flower in your fingertips. It had yet to wither, of course, and so his promise that his love still lived would have to stand, you hoped. 

The rain only grew heavier with the rider’s approach. You were grateful to see that he was alone: he didn’t see you as a threat, at least and you were glad for that. You had come here as a negotiator, not an executioner. 

The horse that he dismounted was large and dark, much like the armour that he wore but he was lacking a helmet, another good sign in how he saw you. His hair was a darker red than you remembered. Perhaps it was the overcast light of the sun that caused this, you had never seen him in sunlight before now. 

“Mairon.” You expected him to greet you with your name, instead it was with a correction. 

“Sauron.” You shook your head gently at him. 

“There is nothing you could do that I could never forgive you for and so you will always be my Mairon to love.” 

“So, Ulmo commands you here to drag me back to the west, to deprive me of freedom?” He questioned. 

“Ulmo was very against my coming here, actually. It was Manwë who permitted this.” He seemed genuinely surprised. 

“Then, how is it that a maia of Ulmo stands here against his wishes?” 

“I went to Manwë because I will never give up on you, Mairon.” You took a step closer to him, caring little for the rain that you had very little control over, the emotional mess you were on the inside, as it poured down around the two of you, “Melkor was once forgiven for his misdeeds, ones far graver than yours, you will be forgiven even more readily. Come home, come with me.” He opened his mouth to speak until his eyes caught the glint from your hand, looking down to find the flower there and you could see surprise on his face once more. 

“You kept it…” 

“Of course I kept it. I’ll hold you to that promise, you know.” There was a faint smile on your lips and tears welled in your eyes. It had been so long since you had seen him. 

“Then why didn’t you come with me?” You could hear the hurt in his voice and you knew it well as you held it within your own heart. 

“Why didn’t you stay with me? I was sort’ve hoping you needed me. Is that selfish? To think I might have been enough to make you stay?” You returned. There was a heavy pause. 

“Were you not the one who told me to strive to improve, to be the driving force in my life instead of being a slave to shame and fear of failure?” You opened your mouth but the words seemed to elude you for a moment, desperately trying to gather them. 

“Not like this…” Your voice came out quiet and you took another step towards him, “This is…” You scrunched your eyes, looking for the right words, knowing that you were walking on eggshells, “... it’s not right. You can do so much good, my love, I know you can. Please, come home.” The distance between you closed even more as he took a step towards you, reaching down for your hands and guiding you to hold the flower with both of them, his own hands covering yours. 

“My home is wherever you walk.” His nose nudged against yours as he leaned down over you and you could have cried. Instead, the rain only grew heavier, watching as it made Mairon’s hair stick to his skin, listening to the metallic patter of it as it hit his armour. You cared little for how it was soaking your dress when his hands were holding yours and his breath was fanning across your lips. “So stay here with me, anything you want I will give, nothing will be unattainable to me and I will lay the stars at your feet should you ask me to.” He fell to his knees, hands not letting go of yours, tightening his grip instead as he looked up at you, “You told me that I am enough, that it was an unwavering truth and you made me come to believe it, my mentor has refined me to be greater than enough. I am more and I yearn for you to see that, for me to use that to fulfil your every wish but I can only do that here, only if you will come into my arms and stay, my love, my soul, my home.” You had never seen him like this, ever, never seen such desperation in his eyes, never seen him beg on his knees. You could no longer stop yourself from sniffling with the efforts to not outright burst into sobs. 

“Look around you.” His voice was more delicate now, “Look at the growing storm, a fraction of your power. You are mighty, my love, you have agency in this world. We were torn apart once and I beg you to not allow it to happen again. Stay.” You did look around and you saw how rain hammered down from the sky. It reminded you of who had sent you here to bring Mairon back, to give him a chance to redeem himself. It would be selfish to deny him that chance by accepting his offer to stay. And yet… you had never heard him so satisfied with himself. 

“For your sake, I cannot stay. I cannot guarantee that the valar will ever offer you this chance again and I cannot snatch it from you.” You wanted to fall to the ground with him, to wind your arms around his neck and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. You remained standing with him at your feet. 

“For our sake, you must stay.” He implored you, shifting the flower in your hold so that he could bring your hands beneath his chin, pressing a kiss to the back of one of your palms, “You need not be given chances, you must take them and I am begging you to take this one for us, for our love.” 

“Mairon…” You closed your eyes, prepared to cry. 

“Please.” The way his voice broke was all it took to crumble your resolve and you fell to your knees, collapsing against him as you sobbed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his wet hair. His one hand landed on the back of your head soothingly as the other wound around your waist, pulling you close. Your entire being trembled at just being held by him again after so many years and you could hear him gently shushing you, caressing you, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. You felt him lift you up in his arms and place you upon the horse, sliding in behind you and holding you close. “I will never let anything keep you from me again, my love, nothing will stand in my way.”

☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee?

🏷️@clumsycopy

[cilil]

Ok, listen… what about Mairon taking dick for the first time…

I would prefer if the reader is gentle at first, but then Mairon demands him to go faster. The reader is a soft dom, but doesn’t talk too much during sex. (Bonus if he has a big dick)

If you’re uncomfortable doing this, I completely understand. No pressure :)

AN: Thank you for the prompt and apologies it took so long. I took some time to give this some thought because I wanted to (hopefully) make it good and when I was finally inspired I had to put the fic aside after a third or so due to exams. I hope you enjoy my take on this :)

Pairing: Mairon x male!reader (2nd person POV) Synopsis: Mairon has recently taken you as his lover and now has an unusual request - he wants you to take him Featuring: Soft dom/service top reader, pushy bottom Mairon, first time bottoming, sex toys (briefly), fingering, anal sex Warning(s): Smut, explicit Oneshot (~1.65k words)

"Are you sure you want to try this?" 

You look at him quizzically, resting next to him on his luxurious divan, propped up on your forearm. 

"Of course I am." Mairon smiles. His lilting, chuckling tone suggests that he finds your concern amusing. "Have you no faith in the strength and capability of my fána?" 

"I do," you reply without hesitation. It's the truth, you know well how powerful he is, yet when you look at his elegant, slender figure, you can't help thinking how awful it would feel to accidentally hurt him. 

Mairon traces the rim of the goblet of wine he's been holding with his index finger. Your eyes follow the movement. 

"I know what I want and how I want it," he says in a low voice. "So when I ask you to take me, I mean it." 

You nod. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and your tongue too clumsy to respond, but it's prickling excitement rather than paralysing fear or any other unpleasant emotion. The thought, now that you allow it to unfold in your mind, is tempting. 

"Will you do as I ask then?" 

You nod again. Of course you will. And you will do your best to ensure that he isn't displeased with you. 

"Good." Mairon leans forward to peck your lips, then pushes his goblet into your hand — a silent order. Dutifully, you take it and roll over to deposit it on the nearest table. 

You hear the sound of fabric. When you turn back around, he has already undone the sash holding his satin robes in place and is in the process of undressing himself. No need for frivolous pleasantries, no waste of time. 

Mairon leans on his forearms and lets his head fall back. In the flickering, warm light coming from the fireplace his skin looks like it's made of pure gold, as if he himself was a marvellous piece of art rather than a living, breathing being, and you take a moment to simply admire him. 

In spite of him not facing you, you feel his gaze on you. Maybe he placed his third eye in the fireplace or a candle flame somewhere, you can never be quite sure. 

"Well? Are you going to sit there and stare or..." Mairon trails off, spreading his legs invitingly. 

He has a way of maintaining control even when he puts himself in positions others might consider submissive. 

You clear your throat in an attempt to regain your ability to speak. "Do you have any oil on you? I need–" 

"Left pocket," he cuts you off. 

Bowing your head, you move to sit between his legs and search his half-discarded robe as you've been told. Indeed, there is a tiny flask of oil in his pocket, but when you bend down and push his legs back, you discover a fine ruby between his cheeks, decorating the end of what you presume to be a toy stuck inside him. 

"I did some preparations on my own," Mairon comments on your discovery. His voice is calm and casual, as if you were discussing minor business or idle gossip instead of sex toys. 

"I'll just make sure you're comfortable, if that's alright," you mumble in response. 

He lets you. When you pull out the toy, you notice that he's as tight as you suspected, but relaxed and well-oiled. Dutifully, you pour a little more oil on two fingers and push inside, finding little resistance. Still, he could use more stretching if he's going to take your cock. 

Mairon watches you, only letting out tiny noises of enjoyment as you go deeper and start scissoring him. You pay attention to the movements of his muscles and the way he clenches and unclenches around you, mindful of any tension you feel. Despite his inexperience with receiving his partner, his control over his fána is impeccable. 

"I should perhaps remind you that I am no fragile incarnate," Mairon says after a few minutes. 

"Sorry. It's just... you see..." You bite your lip and blush. The truth is that you are rather well endowed, something you have become aware of after past experiences and learned to pay attention to with your partners. 

"See what?" Mairon smirks. "Why not show me?" 

You get the feeling that he knows. Maybe it's precisely the reason he chose you as one of his lovers. Nevertheless, you obediently proceed to take off your clothes. Your cock is already hardening, reacting to the delightful sensation of your fingers knuckle-deep inside a gorgeous Maia. 

Mairon stares shamelessly. You even believe to see greed flaring up in his golden eyes. 

"Sorry if–" 

"I want it like that." He spreads his legs wider. "Now give it to me, precious." 

"Y-yes." 

You take a moment to breathe, yet don't dare delay any longer; not only because it's an order, but also because you are eager to do exactly what he's asking for. 

The first thing you feel is heat. For a moment you fear Mairon could burn you, but there is no pain. You begin to feel as though it could be pleasant once you adjust to it. 

"Go on." 

You nod. The second thing you feel is how tight he is, despite your best efforts, though it doesn't seem to cause him any discomfort. Mairon keeps his eyes on you when you push deeper, half-lidded and glowing with simmering pleasure. His lips part ever so slightly, but he makes no sound; you haven't earned it yet, you know. 

Wishing to please your lover, you kiss him instead — a promise, perhaps mixed with an apology. Mairon is not impossible to please, but not easily either. 

He wraps his legs around you and allows himself to sink into his pillows. What he wants is clear, and you don't even need the gentle pressure of his heel against your back to spur you on, though the gesture is welcome. When you lean forward, get on top of him, place your arms at his sides and sink both with and into him, you truly feel it. You are fucking this beautiful creature, and he wants you. The thought is exhilarating, maddening. Your hips begin to move before you know it. 

Mairon's eyelids flutter, and you observe him well, even as you give in to your growing desire. He's content with slow, careful thrusts for a while, enjoying the feeling of your cock filling him again and again, then he speaks up.

"Harder," he commands, "faster." 

You nod. You are no longer at a point where you have the focus or patience to ask if he's sure, and neither does he, you can sense it. Obediently, you increase the speed and vigour of your movements and marvel at how well he takes you, how good he feels, how hot and beautiful and perfect he is. Being taken by you for the first time doesn't prevent Mairon from performing well in his new role, from being as admirable as ever. 

He wraps his legs around you more tightly, pulling you in. You understand — deeper. Shifting your weight onto your knees, you reach for his hips and thighs, angle them to go deeper. Part of you briefly worries that it might cause discomfort, then you hear Mairon moan, long and indulgent. It encourages you to keep holding on to him like this and thrust as hard, fast and deep as you can. 

You intend to keep doing so even if your hips give out. The tight heat of his fána ever tempts you, burning away any exhaustion you may have felt. 

The greater challenge is to last. You wonder, for a second or so, if you are allowed to spill inside, but Mairon hasn't told you otherwise and says nothing whenever your cock twitches inside him — and you know he feels it, you can see him smile and hear him moan whenever it does. Proud and pleased with himself. Even his arrogance is sexy. 

The thought of filling him with your seed as you do with your cock pleases you. He is yours, for a few precious moments at least. But you know Mairon wants this to last, wants to enjoy himself thoroughly. He expects you to give him your best, like he has done for you; even if perfection seems almost effortless on him. 

You do your best to hold on. Focus on the flow of your movements instead of his voice, instead of the maddening pleasure, instead of him. You give it your all, and it works for a time, until exhaustion erodes your barriers and lust floods all your senses and you come with a small grunt. It feels as though Mairon clenches around you with feverish greed, taking all you have, not relenting before you have given it to him. 

Only then his fána lets you go. 

You sit back on your heels and attempt to catch your breath, lest you collapse on top of him like a stag with an arrow in its chest. 

Mairon has closed his eyes for a moment, looking almost peaceful. You see pearly droplets glistening all over his stomach; not even he managed to escape your climax and came with you. Pride makes your chest swell — you succeeded. You pleased him. 

His legs release your hips and drop to the bed. He keeps them spread, allowing you to watch as seed trickles out of him.

"Well done, precious," he purrs. "You may now leave."

"Shouldn't I take care of you first?" you ask. 

"My attendants will see to it." 

You bow your head, accepting his decision. Perhaps, you muse, his decision to let you take him was a first step, a sign of trust, and you will be allowed to care for him and spend the night if he has need for you again in the future. 

Perhaps it wouldn't be entirely foolish to look forward to it. 

 ˚ ੈ✧̣̇·˖ 　˚ .　　　✶ ˚　　✦　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　.  ˚　

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist:

@angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @uruk-thighs @bluezenzennie @destinyeternity1

@edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human

@numenhore @sauron-kraut @urwendii @wandererindreams

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Snippet of what to look forward to this Friday

“So be it then,” Mairon said. He turned his attention to the door. One of the Balrogs was singing. Their deep voice rang around the halls and chambers like rumbling thunder. It was not unpleasant to hear. “Now come, y/n. You have toiled in here long enough. It is time you indulged in some amusement and gave yourself some relief. Lord Melkor is presently away. Your designs for Ungoliant can wait until he returns.” “But I do not need relief,” you said, as you walked around setting the chamber to rights. The discarded quills and empty bottles of ink you placed in a rough-hewn chest. The parchment you arranged into neat little stacks, each according to their own theme. Then you went to the windows, and closed the shutters. “Why would I need relief, pray?”

From "Silk" - A smutty Mairon/Fem. Reader story

A/n: This is still a WIP. The text could change here and there during editing.

[heavenlayt]

Irmo is so cute!

Tolkien characters when they’re s/o falls asleep in their lap? Amazing work as always❤️

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ tolkien characters ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. thranduil, legolas, mairon, melkor, manwë, irmo, námo and fëanor's reaction when their s/o falls asleep in their lap

· ⊰ note. absolutely! thank you <3

( masterlist ) ( taglist form )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ THRANDUIL 

ʚ He had promised to be with you in a moment, he just wished to finish a few more things and then would pay all of his attention to you. Thranduil allowed you to cuddle up in his lap while he worked 

ʚ Wouldn’t realise you fell asleep until after he finished and called out your name - but received no response 

ʚ Feels a little bad when he sees that you ended up falling asleep. Did he really take that long?

ʚ He slowly picks you up, putting you under the covers and pulling you to his chest 

ʚ Plays with your hair a little before he too falls asleep 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLEGOLAS 

ʚ You were both stargazing. Legolas was rambling on about some quest and as intrigued as you were - you couldn’t help but fall asleep to the sound of his voice 

ʚ He would notice fairly quickly. At first trying to keep you awake as he wished to spend more time with you - but when he saw how precious you looked with your sleeping expression, he decided against it 

ʚ Doesn’t get up, instead admiring how you snuggled up into him, the moon shining down on your face, you looked so peaceful 

ʚ Probably leans down and peppers little kisses to your face, before bringing you closer and also falling asleep beneath the stars 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMAIRON 

ʚ He let you sit in his lap whilst he worked on his eyeliner as you had wished to learn a thing or too. You tried to pay attention, to listen to his little instructions - but he was just so warm. You ended up drifting off 

ʚ Mairon was a little irritated over the fact that you fell asleep whilst he was trying to teach you something 

ʚ Probably even had half a mind to wake you up. He moves to shake you awake but immediately freezes up with the way you snuggle up into his chest and breathe his name out in comfort 

ʚ He’s still, trying to wonder why that alone gave him so much butterflies. But he pushed the thought aside, wrapped his arms around you and admired your sleeping form 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMELKOR 

ʚ He was on his throne with you in his lap. Not particularly doing anything as he was a little busy talking to one of his subjects. Melkor is much bigger than you in size so you always felt quite comfortable within his lap - so much so that you fell asleep 

ʚ Only takes notice when the person leaves and he turns to speak to you but receives no answer. A part of him almost thinks that you’re ignoring him 

ʚ Practically shakes you awake - only to hear your whine before you huff, snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep 

ʚ That’s when he realised that he more or less woke you up. He remains still, unsure whether he should take you back to the room or wake you up again 

ʚ He’s so unsure that he just ends up staying there, arms around you. Did you feel so safe with him that you would fall asleep on him? He quite liked that thought 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMANWË

ʚ You were cuddling up to him after a long day, and he returned them all gladly. He often sang to you when you’ve had a rough day and that’s exactly what he did now - how couldn’t you fall asleep?

ʚ He almost felt his heart explode when he felt you limp into him and nuzzle into his chest. He glances down to confirm his theory and yes - you were asleep 

ʚ Smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your head, calling you his perfect little dove before wrapping his wings around you to provide even more comfort 

ʚ Stays there with you, not necessarily falling asleep and rather continuing his little lullaby. Most likely puts off a duty or two, telling Eonwe to handle them. How could he give up this little bundle of joy in his arms?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ IRMO 

ʚ He was braiding your hair whilst you told him about your day. Needless to say you were rather exhausted and just wanted to cuddle up to your dreamy ( literally ) boyfriend 

ʚ Seeing as how distressed you were, Irmo allowed his powers to come into play whilst he spoke to you. Sowing a little sedative in his words to try and bring your form into slumber - and it worked 

ʚ He doesn’t usually use this on you much, but today you were practically fighting to stay awake despite your evident exhaustion, he couldn’t allow you to neglect yourself 

ʚ Brings you into his arms, peppers a few kisses along your neck before curling up in the little spot in his garden to take a nice long nap with you 

ʚ Spooning! Irmo absolutely loves it. You fit so perfectly with him 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ NÁMO 

ʚ He took you along to a little meeting with his maiar, not exactly expecting it to drag on for so long. You always felt most comfortable in his lap - and ended up falling asleep before the end of it 

ʚ Námo only really noticed when one of his maia points out and takes a few moments to stare down at your sleeping form. Half not knowing what to do, half silently admiring 

ʚ He ends the meeting after a few more moments, leaving his subjects a little surprised - but pleasantly so when they saw him standing to his feet and scooping you up in his arms 

ʚ Tries his hardest not to wake you - and when you stir he lowers his typically intimidating and deep voice to hush you back to sleep 

ʚ He takes you back to his resting chamber and finds his bed, not once removing you from his lap

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFËANOR 

ʚ Let you sit in his lap whilst he sketched out some designs for forging new weapons. He was explaining to you the process and rambling on about the craft that he adored so much - you almost felt bad for falling asleep, but how could you not when listening to his voice and heartbeat?

ʚ Saw that you had fallen asleep and stopped everything he was doing in an instant - should he feel offended that you fell asleep?

ʚ He wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not with how adorable you looked snuggling up to his chest 

ʚ Fëanor curses a little under his breath - he’s going soft. But the smile on his lips would tell anyone that he did not mind, especially if it was for you

ʚ Places everything down and wraps his arms around you, watching the fire in his forge whilst he rests his chin on your head and murmurs how much he loves you 

taglist — @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @blueberryrock @a-chaotic-dumbass @m-shade @nerdydcfan @flowerchildishere @camilomyshiningsun @bugnug @algae-rave @snakesofindia-sursesaji @theroguemaia @heraluthor @pinkslashersimp @the-girl-king @qwerty-19923 @livialounalamontagne @perwaineintsomi @yellowbadgermole @spoopy-fish-writes @itsdameron @aeonianarchives @rurifangirl @tumblertatiana-blog

[dirty-ainur-confessions]

Imagine traveling through woods in a red hood, delivering herbs medicine to a sick relative. You meet a wolf named Mairon, who becomes your odd chatting friend in your every trip through the forest. You grew to trust him and even love him above others. You feel disgusted with other men, who compares you fragile and innocent one for taking. Out of frustration being good all the time, you vent out to your beastly friend. He heeds your frustration and turns into a beautiful man, promising to help out with your hidden desires. Too enchanted by his beauty, you let him ravish you like a beast. Biting, scratching and dwelling in pleasure. Dropping all restraints from things considered taboo while wearing the red hood and droblets of blood from your rough love making as he didn't leave you unsatisfied.

he's got your back flushed to the tree, his arms hooked around your thighs and pressing your knees as high as possible to allow him as much access as he requires. he takes you again, and again, and again. muttering into your neck how good you are for him, how you take him oh so well — and how pretty you look tainted by him

mairon would see too it that you're covered in a series of bites and scratches, from your neck to your sides and your thighs — leaving his mark all over you.

[luna-redamancy]

I see that requests are open! I'm going to keep this one simple. Morgoth and Sauron sharing a female reader. Interpret that as you will.

You see...When I first read this... My brain went: Smut. SMut. SMUT. Straight-up spiciness. But no, we are wholesome tonight! Enjoy:

The morning air was crisp, but you could only feel it on the tip of your nose as you woke up, eyes blinking to adjust to the bright room. You were warm, surrounded by heat. 

Melkor had his head on top of yours, his chin resting on the crown of your head with his hand holding yours, his other under the pillow. 

Mairon was behind you, face buried in your neck with his one arm looped around your waist to keep you to him- like a child hugging onto a stuffed bear at night. His legs were tangled with yours while Melkor’s right leg was up and over the two of you, trapping you in. 

Shifting slightly to roll over, it appeared that you awoke Melkor. 

Making a sound mixed between a groan and a sigh, Melkor lifted his head upwards for you to move freely. 

Mairon stayed asleep, grip loosening ever so slightly as you shifted before he scrunched his brows in his sleep, pulling you tight against his chest once more. 

Chuckling to himself, Melkor pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he lowered himself to hold you from behind. His eyes shut with a blissful expression as he inhaled your scent. The lingering smell of your body wash and shampoo infiltrated his senses as he nuzzled his nose against your flesh. 

Now that you were awake you couldn’t fight the urge. Mairon was so so pretty, his long eyelashes kissing the flesh of his under-eyes, expression peaceful and content now that you were flush against him again. 

Licking your lower lip, you glanced from his eyes down to his lips, soft and plush looking. Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his own, feeling his body slowly awoke by your ministrations. He stiffened before relaxing, hand changing positions from holding onto your waist to cradling your cheek to tilt your head back and deepen the kiss. It was loving, strong, and for a moment you could feel his love for you that nearly reached obsession.

As you two separated, you laughed at his dazed expression, kissing his nose before relaxing against the pillow. 

“Now, now, that’s not fair,” Melkor tsked, kissing your shoulder again. “He gets all the kisses this morning,” Early in your relationship with these two you’d assume he was jealous, angry at you for sharing your lips with another, but in reality, it’s just his coded way of requesting his own kisses without outright saying so. 

“Big baby,” You huffed, but the amused smile on your lips told the two of them that you were anything but angry. 

Twisting to lay on your back, you carefully held Melkor’s face in your hand, guiding his lips to yours. Melkor’s kisses were softer, less demanding, but still had that obsessive passion emitting from them like his other lover as he adjusted to holding himself over you.

When he pulled away, it was you in a daze, making Mairon's laugh grace your ears as he leaned over you to capture Melkor’s lips in his own. 

Your heart felt full and nearly bursting as the two also exchanged morning kisses. 

Tags:

Forever Tag

@lady-of-lies @all-things-fandomstuck  @fizzyxcustard @izzydaelleth @aquaangel18 @raindancer2004 @love-colorfulglittercollection @ladylouoflothlorien​ @ten-tenya-iida ​​ @legolaslovely​ @bthtallmadge2​ @abesottedlass @wilhelmyna @tigereyesf​ @aspookybunny @keijibum @moony-artnstuff @sirkekselord @guardianofrivendell @fluffymadamina @izbelross @fandomhoe101 @acahope311 @kitkatd7 @mooseetx @themerriweathermage @elvish-sky @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @laurfilijames @frequentlychangingfandoms @cameronsails @linasofia @starryeyedrogue  @shethereadinghobbit @beenovel @onlystarshere @fckmini @spidergirla5 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @myselfandfantasy @strange-old-worlds @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @broken-ghost @mbruben-stein @tschrist1 @hai-kbai

Sauron/Mairon- None Currently

Morgoth/Melkor- None Currently

[howlsmoonhaven]

WHOOOOOOOOO, I NEEEEED A MOMENT TO CALM DOWN AFTER THIS HOOOLY OÆSDFIHJNDÆRLOFIGHJ CALM HOWL

CALM

Calm

I am calm

No I'm not

I will go drink water

When You Fake An Orgasm | The Ainur

A/N: I realised that I haven't been posting any Ainur content which is bad. Just the usual bunch, no Oromë, Ulmo, Ossë and Tulkas. Perhaps in a separate post, I'll write for them.

Warnings: fem!reader, bondage, rough sex, edging, overstimulation (multiple orgasms), orgasm denial, temperature play, asphyxiation, pet names (princess, dollface, doll), reader passing out, impact play

༻¨*:·Manwë

This Vala doesn’t play when it comes to you faking something he’s passionate about, and it was perhaps your worse mistake because he’ll keep you up all night to tire you out. Manwё doesn’t have a problem fucking it into your mind, so you never make the mistake again. It’s more pleasure for him.

For a moment, you felt smaller than normal under the scrutiny of his glare when you faked your moans and trembled your legs, acting all tired and sleepy. His thrusts slowed and his arms that gripped your thighs dropped them. One hand snaked easily up your torso and gripped your chin, forcing you to look him in his eyes while the other snatched your hands and pinned them above your head. In an instant, his pace picked back up but with more vigour and power, rocking the bed and trembling your bones. “Faking your orgasm with me princess…when I know exactly what this cunt feels like when it cums?” He laughed and scoffed.

Pulling himself off your sweaty body and straightening himself to prepare for the onslaughter he was about to deliver, it was alright if he ran late to his little meeting with Lord Námo. He had to teach you a lesson first. “If you wanted me to fuck you better, you simply had to ask. But for you little stunt, I’ll make you beg me to cum.” You couldn’t help but widen your eyes as the power of his thrusts increased making your eyes roll in the back of your head. The loud, whiney and pathetic moans that left your lips, begging him to slow down make him laugh. “M-Manwё…p-…please slow d-down, I’m s-sorry…ngghh. Won’t do it…again…” Kissing his teeth, he repositioned him, releasing your chin and pushing your legs over his shoulders, folding you into the bed. “Don’t complain, love, you asked for this, or would you rather me deny you?” Shaking your head frantically at the second option, you whined and begged him not to. “Good girl, consider this mercy with a warning…don't attempt this again.” With that, he kissed your lips and went to work with delivering all his promised overstimulation, sending you to sleep earlier than usual.

༻¨*:·Irmo

You are playing a dangerous game with his Vala who basically has a hand in manipulating sexual pleasure. Irmo isn’t going to let your little game go so easily, he’s holding it to his heart. So, tell me, why fake it? Do you like punishment?

“P-Please…I’m s-…sorry…” you hiccupped with tears streaming down the sides of your pretty face. You were tied to the bed after your little stunt while Irmo sat between your leg, torturously rubbing your clit, fingering and eating you out all that the same time, yet never giving you your release. Edging your for more than an hour, you were covered in a bucket of sweat, tears and hickeys. All the while, Irmo appeared pleased and smug at his artwork. His eyes glittered with affection the longer he stared at how desperately you were searching for your orgasm while he dangled it over your head on a string, out of reach.

“I’m s-…sorry,” he mocked with a laugh, “you sound so pathetic, princess. I thought you didn’t want an orgasm?” He shuffled closer, keeping his finger languorously rubbing circles on your clit, to kiss your forehead. He withheld four orgasms from you, and this was your fifth he was about to deny you. The silver-haired God who hovered over you with a sickeningly sweet and sadistic smile dragged his finger lower and slunk it into your hole and snickered when your eyes rolled back. For a moment, you assumed he was being merciful after the torturous hour he punished you for, but he was attempting to set a record. How long could he edge you for? “I-Irmo, please. I won’t do it again…p-promise,” you whined.

“Oh, I know you won’t because when I’m through, your pretty little brain will remember.”

༻¨*:·Námo

This man has patience, unlike any other being that exists. If you want to play that game with him, the challenge is accepted. I hope you know what you are getting yourself into because your pain is his pleasure.

Gasping and pretending to come down from your high, your body shook and trembled to display your orgasm washing over you. The soft moans that escaped your lips were still a sign of your lover’s cock thrusting deeper and moulding your insides. However, your lover who observed with judging eyes said nothing while you continued your performance. As a being of higher powe, it meant having proper control over his body, and Námo had no problem with showing you how skilled he was. Sighing, he easily gripped your hips, slid himself out to shuffle off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. With confusion in your eyes, you whined at him, demanding that he returned to finish what he started. “Námo, come back! I still need you!”

It was a lesson to remember when he brought out his ropes, tied you up and then relieved himself before your eyes. He was silent the entire time, enjoying the whines and cries for him to release and continue fucking you. Turning his head to silence your complaining, his viridian eyes bored into your frustrated ones and arched a single brow. Peace had settled over the room which allowed him the time to freshen up and redress. The entire time, he passed up and down your tied-up figure without batting an eyelash and focusing on himself. You looked like a spectacle tied to the bedhead, immobilised. Finished dressing, Námo headed to the door, not before giving you a warning. “Since you didn’t want a real orgasm, you can stay like that and enjoy your time without one until I have finished my duties. Contemplate on your wrongs.”

༻¨*:·Melkor

One word, incapacitated. Seriously, don’t play with something he’s passionate about, but then again, this is all gameplay for him. Something like foreplay, so he’ll consider this a warmup for the real course. However, he still wouldn’t take it lightly because he’s putting effort and time into making you cum.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” his deep voice rumbled throughout the room and shook your very fёa. Eyes widened and form trembling, you realised the mistake you made by playing a dangerous prank on him. He wasn’t going to take ‘it was just a joke’ as an excuse for something he was persistent and dedicated to achieving. You were insulting him, an absolutely disgraceful act to commit. Your stutters and words were stuck in your throat when he leaned closer and hovered watchfully as his hips stilled their motion. Melkor waited patiently for some justification for your little stunt—being benevolent just for this one moment. “I’m…I’m sorry—” your apology was cut off, him not wanting to hear the rest of the excuse.

“Of course you are sorry. My little one would never fake an orgasm, huh? Isn’t that so? Yes…” His words were patronising but his hips that regained their momentum and now pistoned in and out your heat were diabolical. Your legs went into a frenzy and began trembling while your nails dug deeply into his biceps. Whimpers and squeaks flew past your lips and incoherent mumblings floated through the air. His laughter at your pathetic state, drool everywhere, eyes rolled into your head and head lulled, echoed deeply in your mind. It screamed at you to never attempt such a challenge again. “Get it in your head dollface, you accept what I give you with gratitude or you get nothing at all,” he whispered against your cheek before dipping his head to attach his lips to your neck. Before the night was over, Melkor had stolen orgasms and given you so many, your body was sent into overstimulation until you passed out.

༻¨*:·Eönwë

He really couldn’t believe that you would go to great lengths and refuse to inform him that he isn’t fucking your right. Like why couldn’t you just tell him he wasn’t doing something right? Was communicating so difficult?

Gripping the sheets for dear life, a sharp moan slipped past your lips when a firm hand came down on your ass, leaving it bright red. Your body was being tossed around like a ragdoll and there wasn’t anything you could do or say. All you had to do was lie there and take all the rough fucking that Eӧnwё was giving. You could feel the anger and pain in his grip and voice when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Is this enough, or am I still not fucking you right? Hmm? Don’t run from me Y/N…” he growled when you arched from a powerful thrust he sent your way, sending your body jerking out of his hold. He was feral and his avian side was acting up at the fact that his mate was lying for a serious matter. “What’s the matter, can’t talk like earlier and tell me I’m fucking you right?!”

Your eyes rolled at the same time your head dropped into the mattress to hide your whimpers, but he wasn’t having any of that. His right hand reached out to snatch your hair and yank your head upwards so he could hear your cries. “Is this what you wanted?” you could hear the faint traces of his avian side slipping into the mix. If it did, you were in trouble. Eӧnwё’s avian side never took these things for granted, and you were sure from the rate his thrusts were developing, it was there. Pressing his body against yours, his left hand wedged itself between your legs to rub your clit, pinching the little nub and laughing at your pleas. “I’m feeling to deny you right now, but I want to fuck you senseless at the same time for using me. I bet you would love that, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t cum tonight while I get my fill.” Seems like his avian side was surely there and you weren’t getting any sleep.

༻¨*:·Tilion

He’s angry at himself for not being able to realise that he wasn’t pleasuring you right to the point you had to fake it, but…he isn’t entirely your himbo who’s going to cry in a corner about it. Tilion will take matters into his hand and make you remember to never pull that stunt again.

Looking up at his face when you decided to open your eyes after pretending to suffer the effects of an orgasm, Tilion’s eyes were sharp and narrowed. “You really think that after all these years of fucking this cunt, I won’t know what it feels like?” A hand had snaked its way up your body to wrap around your throat and apply pressure while the other came down to slap the inner of your thigh. His hips ceased their thrusting, and his cock stilled its movement in your cunt, though he could feel the desperation of your walls fighting to clamp around him. The little flexing of your muscles to retain what little pleasure you could find to satisfy your cunt caused him to look down and tauntingly laugh. “You want my cock so badly after your little stunt? Brats like you don’t deserve my cock or to cum.”

Flashing a look of apology and whining, you pleaded with him to have mercy and cried even moving when he slipped out. In a flash, you were on your knees with your ass high in the air and a loud smack echoed. You could barely comprehend the next round of actions since everything happened so quickly. The feeling of his weight pressing on top of you, immobilising you while driving his cock into your deeper was euphoric, but he found it better to deny you your orgasms. Refusing to rub your clit, and using your body to get himself off, he wanted to teach you a lesson. “Til-…Tilion please, let me c-cum!” He enjoyed listening to the sounds of your begging, the desperation in your cries, but he wasn’t giving in so easily. “Are you sure about that? You didn’t want to earlier. Be a good little girl and take what I give you.”

༻¨*:·Mairon

He’s gonna do the same thing as Námo and Irmo. You are really in for it and was simply setting yourself up for torture. You’re not going to be getting released because he’s evil like that.

You couldn’t say or do anything as you found yourself tied up and dangling from the chandelier in your shared chambers. Not too high off the ground, but just low enough for your toes to touch and fight to grip the carpet. The flaming red-headed Maia stood before you no longer naked but dressed in simple trousers and robes leaving him shirtless for you to marvel at his lithe physique. There was an increase in the room's temperature, more heated than anything leaving a sheen of sweat to coat your skin which Mairon took advantage of. Ice. He ran the light cube over your erogenous zones, close enough to gain whiny, high-pitched squeals and pleas from you. “Why should I stop? I’ve been wanting to experiment for a long time—I’ve found the perfect moment to practice. Don’t interrupt me!” he warned.

Clearly not pleased with your stunt earlier. Your orgasms were an art form he described to be perfection to the highest degree. Something that took care and time…and then you faked one before the eyes of a perfectionist. Nothing ever went without punishment, and what better way to punish you than to give you what you were demanding. “Don’t cry, you asked for this. If you had only been a good little doll for me, I would have spoiled you tonight… Now don’t squirm, I want to see how long you can take being denied before you learn your place.” His hands were chilled from gripping the ice and now running over the expanse of your skin, tickling, rubbing and touching everywhere far too light to relieve the ache. “Are you going to be good and let me have me way after your little stunt? Of course, you are, it’s the only way to cum.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @cilil @edensrose