#sauron smut

[pursuitseternal]

PursuitsEternal Tolkien Masterlist: A collection of First Age Sauron, Annatar fanfics

Summary: Lady Galadriel alone suspects Lord Annatar, Lord of Gifts, to be more than he appears. Seeking to reveal him for the deceiver she believes him to be, she finds herself no longer alone in his private chambers. And he wants to give her a gift.

Summary: Retelling of “Beren and Luthien:”

His curse demands the love of one Being of Light, a being Sauron has found in his very path. But he remains trapped by Huan and Luthìen’s curse, stuck in werewolf form until the magic is broken. Galadriel cannot deny that this Dark Wolf has saved her from Orcs, soldiers sent to skin the former Dark Lord for his failure in Tol-in-Gaurhoth. Nor can she deny the growing attachment she has for his snuggles and kisses, her faithful Dark Wolf.

Summary: Dead Dove, Breeding, ABO

When Galadriel is the one captured along with Beren’s company, the dark of Tol-in-Gaurhoth is the least that will make her body shiver. Hints of A/B/O, Forced Heat, Questionably forced Breeding, Bestiality Dead Dove to come, and also talking werewolves.

🎨 by @marimosalad 💞

[dirty-ainur-confessions]

mairon + guide?

❪ ♡ ❫ ── mairon , GUIDE prompt

“more,” he groans, tossing his head back so that fiery tresses fell along his shoulders. lean fingers grip onto your hips, dark nails clawing at your skin and threatening to leave pretty little welts as he brings you down upon his cock.

“just like that, precious.”

greedily, you eat up his praise. arms around his neck and hands fisting at his locks, you alternate between burying your face into his shoulder and glancing down to watch as he makes you take his length. you whimper into him, crumbling, shattering and muttering his name in hushed sobs.

“m-mairon, mairon, it's too much,” you try to whine, legs weak and trembling as you let him take control. barely bucking your hips into his, you gasp as his grip abruptly forces you down so that you take the entirety of him. it leaves you gasping, crying, and squirming on him as you fervently rock yourself down.

“mairon, oh mairon,”

“there we go,” the maia exhales, drawing his head back to glance down at your cunt that greedily takes him all in. “isn't that precious?" dark lips press to the front of your throat and his groan vibrates against your skin.

[marimosalad]

🌶️NSFW🌶️

See it uncensored on AO3 🖤

[kiatheinsomniac]

☾ ⋆ﾟ MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

Notes: this idea came from a conversation with @edensrose​ so I’m gifting it to her! 

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: NSFW, dacryphilia, overstimulation, pet names, vaginal fingering, mutual/guided masturbation (a bit), oral (fem receiving), creampie, marking kink

Eyeliner and tears

You did your very best to not scrunch your eyes shut at the overwhelming pleasure being brought down between your legs. Your eyes were teary and you were doing your utmost to make sure that they didn’t spill from your eyes, laid over your lover’s lap with his fingers unforgivingly pistoning into your cunt. Biting your lip was a better alternative to burying your face in the blankets beneath you and failing the goal of this challenge. You yelped at the feeling of his palm coming down against the softness of your ass – which, without a doubt, was already bright red from all the spanks it had endured earlier. 

It almost gave you whiplash each time that these hands, which had been so gentle and tender with you before, were capable of tearing you apart so easily like this. 

It had started with you watching Mairon do his makeup that morning, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the mirror, tutting to himself in irritation nas he went in with a cotton bud to touch up a mistake, never satisfied unless his eyeliner was the very definition of symmetry. You enjoyed wearing eyeliner yourself, not in the style that he did and so you had asked him to do yours for you when he was done. 

You had ended up sitting in his lap while his hand cupped your face, tilting your head in the right direction whenever needed and being very careful to avoid getting any makeup in your eyes. You were sure he noticed the look of utter adoration on your face as you gazed into his eyes that smouldered like embers in a summer night’s fire. 

You were quick to get over to the mirror when he announced that he was done. You brought your face close to the glass of the mirror, admiring your lover’s work before his face joined yours in the reflection, leaning down to brush the tip of his nose against the corner of your jaw, hand coming up to rest at the base of your jaw and gently pulling your head back to rest against his shoulder. 

“Look how pretty you look…” He hummed and the praise made you melt into his touch, humming at the feeling of his black-stained lips against your cheek, turning your head to meet them in a kiss that you knew would leave black smears over your mouth. He loved doing that, possessive bastard. But you loved it too. 

The way his eyes lingered over your lips as you pulled away told you that you were right. His lipstick was now smudged but his mouth was curling up in a wicked grin that he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding, amber eyes burning with desire and being eclipsed by the way his pupils were dilating. Oh no. You knew that look all too well. 

“Why don’t we play a game?” He mused, thumb further smearing his signature shade across your lips that were already aching for yet another of his dizzying kisses. 

“I know how games with you go. What happens to me if I lose?” There was a low chuckle that rumbled in his chest as his other arm, which had already snaked around your waist, pulled you further against his body, feeling your back press up against his chest. 

“What makes you think there’s a catch, hm? Can’t I wish to have some fun with my sweet, pretty girl?” You fought the heat that rushed to your core, aware that he knew exactly what he was doing in talking to you like that. 

“Because I know you well, my love, and I know that when you have that look in your eye – yes, that one right there, don’t try to change your expression now – that there will always be a catch.” He ducked his head forwards to hide his face in your hair, taking a moment to recompose at you so blatantly reading him. There wasn’t another person in the world that could do such a thing: Mairon was a closed book that had to be prised open, written in a language that only you could speak. 

“Alright, there is a catch.” His lips skimmed over yours and you fought the urge to tilt your head just that little bit which would allow you to kiss him once more, knowing that you would need to hear these conditions, “If you lose, I get to make you come to my heart’s content.” You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought over what your answer would be. You knew how Mairon was with overstimulation: fucking relentless. 

“And if I win?” You glared when he scoffed at your question. 

“If you win, you get to demand whatever you want of me.” His voice was quiet, the hand at your neck gentle while the one curling around your hip was firm. 

“All your money.” You quipped with a teasing grin and he rolled his eyes, sighing before pressing a long kiss to your lips. 

“Whatever you want of me, sexually.” 

“Well that’s nowhere near as fun.” 

“Don’t be a brat.” His fingers twitched warningly against your throat. 

“I’m just being confident, my love.” You hummed, reaching up a little to press another kiss to his lips, “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to make you beg.” 

“Don’t be so sure of yourself…” His voice dropped to a whisper before your lips were colliding again.

So, here you were, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, whining loudly when his fingers were suddenly pulled from your drenched cunt just as that coil building in your abdomen was about to release. Biting down on your lower lip and breathing heavily helped to try and repress the tears: you were determined to win and dreading losing. This was the second time now that he’d brought you to the edge of orgasm and then denied it of you. 

He leaned down to get a look at your face, bright eyes lighting up at the teariness of yours. 

“Awe, are you going to cry? Is it not enough?” His tone was dripping with mockery and you simply narrowed your eyes at him as you willed your tears away. Your stubbornness seemed to dampen his smug mood. You liked that.

A lot.

Soon enough, he was sitting upright again, hands gliding over the softness of your ass and roughly squeezing the tender flesh before delivering yet another slap. Perhaps you liked watching the smugness drain from his expression a little too much because you propped yourself up a little higher on your elbows in order to look over your shoulder as you spoke next: 

“You hit like a bitch.” 

Silence. 

You were suddenly flipped onto your back, Mairon’s body pinning yours down as you hissed at the sudden contact of the mattress against your ass. You were glad for the breath of air you drew in with the hiss because your supply was suddenly cut off with a hand around your throat, feeling his golden ring pressing into your skin. The surprise must have been clear on your face. 

“What? Did you expect me to just hit harder? To give you what you want?” He eased up to allow you a moment of air before the grip returned, “Dumb slut.” There was a smile upon his blackened lips as he looked down at you beneath him. Your hips jerked when his other hand went down to rub against your clit, dipping his fingers into your entrance to push more wetness over that particularly sensitive bundle of nerves. 

The lack of air was making your eyes water even more and you would have cursed him if you thought such precious air worthy. He was doing this on purpose, for the lone purpose of making you cry so that you would lose. He’d tried pain and edging and now he was seeing if you could be choked without ruining the makeup that he had done for you. 

Putting it like that, you were quite proud of yourself for even lasting this long. 

His body easily covered yours, caging you to the bed, and you brought your hands up to wrap around his wrist, squeezing it and greedily gulping down the lungfuls of air that he allowed you in response. His fingers plunged into you once more, his hand now cutting off your blood flow instead of your air, and the noises of your moans and the slick sounds coming from your cunt filled the room as you felt yourself being pulled towards an orgasm. 

Mairon’s head dipped down, his fiery hair spilling over his shoulders and tickling your bare skin. His lips pressed hot kisses over the tops of your breasts, leaving little black prints in their wake and you cried out when he took one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked down. 

He quickly had you seeing stars and the moan that you let out as you came was cut off by the newfound pressure of his hand around your throat once more. The feeling of hot tears gliding down your cheeks only made you want to sob. You had managed to get so far. 

When his fingers finished riding you through your orgasm, his hand let go of your neck to grab your cheeks instead, fingers digging into the soft flesh and slightly turning your head from left to right to see the black smudges in the outer corners of your eyes that slightly trailed down the tops of your cheeks in grey rivers. 

“I go to all the effort to do your makeup and you ruin it.” He frowns and your body trembles in anxiety and anticipation of what he would do next to you. 

Mairon sat up on his knees, spreading his legs apart more in order to spread yours wider as they were laying over his. You suddenly missed the feeling of his hair gently caressing your flushed skin. 

His hands ran over the softness of your thighs and his gaze fell to between your legs, taking in the sight of you utterly drenched for him. 

“Do you remember what happens now?”

“You make me come as many times as you please.” You reply in a quiet voice, unsure how he would go about doing that, whether he would even make you come again at all. He let out a low hum in reply, looking over your flushed skin and the bruises at your neck from his mouth as well as the black smeared around your lips, neck and chest. He took in the way you were lightly panting for breath and the way your hips couldn’t quite seem still, paired with your glistening cunt. He took up one of your hands in his and you watched him in silence as he uncurled your fingers, sliding his between them and then pressing his palm to yours, making you notice how his hands were bigger than yours, feeling the band of his ring pressing to your skin. 

“Such little fingers…” He drawled out, “Touch yourself with them, make yourself come.” He guided your hand down to your cunt and you hesitantly ran two fingertips along your slit, feeling just how drenched you were from him edging you and then making you come once already. You gently rubbed over your clit, fingers sliding down to sink into you, whining at both the stimulation and how they didn’t fill you as well as Mairon’s did. “You can do better than that…” His nails lightly raked down your thigh as he ran his hand over your flushed skin. Your breath hitched when you began pumping your fingers into your cunt even harder, the wet sounds of it making your face hot with a mildly embarrassed blush. His own hand had reached down to oh-so-slowly stroke his cock as he watched you touch yourself. 

“Mairon…” You sighed out when you began to feel that coil tightening. 

“Say it again…” His other hand came to press down over your abdomen, increasing your pleasure and your free hand came to rest over his, keeping it there. “You’ll say my name while you come for me…” You could only nod your head, curling your fingers up as you fucked yourself with them. 

“Mairon…” You clutched his hand tightly as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, only for him to move down the bed and your body, pulling you away by the wrist and making you whine at the sudden loss before his lips were wrapping around your clit. His arms wrapped around your thighs as your hands shot down to tangle your fingers in his fiery hair, throwing your head back as he lapped alone your slit, sucking down on your clit until you felt white-hot and everything seemed to dissolve into pleasure for a few blissful moments, able to do little else but call out his name. 

You opened your eyes to the feeling of his hair tickling your stomach as he kissed and nipped his way up your body. He captured your lips in a searing kiss and you wrapped your legs around his body, trying to bring him closer to you, inside of you. 

“For someone who’s lost, you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot.” He murmured against your neck as he pressed a hot kiss just below your ear. 

“I want you…” You whispered, nails featherly scraping over the skin of his back. 

“How much do you want me?” There was hardly any lipstick left around his mouth now, just some grey smudges: the rest of it was marking up your body as his. 

“A lot.”

“A lot?” He raised a brow, a hand caressing your side and you huffed at his teasing but knew it wouldn’t be wise to tell him to cut it out as he’d only up his ante, “Enough that you’d beg for it?” 

“Mairon, please.” Your voice came out weakly, “I really, really need you to fuck me, please.” 

“Even if I don’t plan on stopping when you cry because it just feels too good?” There was a mockery in his voice yet you wasted no time in nodding your head yes, “Might as well… you’ve already ruined your makeup already…” His thumb dragged down your cheek to further smear it across your skin and a possessiveness simmered hotly in his abdomen at the sight of you wearing his makeup that had been ruined by him. 

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his cock pressing to your entrance and your hands tangled in his hair as he sank into you, muffling your moan into his shoulder until he pressed you down and held himself just out of reach of your mouth, forcing you to allow him to hear you. It took very little time to adjust to him, soaked and worked up as you were. He gave a few long and slow thrusts, experimental, until his hand went down to tease your clit as he established a much firmer rhythm. You arched your back up to press your chest to his, wanting to feel his skin against yours, pushing your hips to meet him. 

Your bodies were flushed with heat and the room was filled with the noises of your skin meeting and your combined sounds of pleasure. Your nails dug into his bicep while your other hand tangled in his bright hair, eyes opening to meet his amber ones that seemed to burn into you, setting you alight with a warmth that flooded between your legs. 

“Such a pretty mess.” He groaned, looking down at you, the stains of tears around your eyes and down your cheeks, fresh tears building in your eyes as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm. “So desperate to come a third time.” 

“Mairon, please.” Your words were smothered by one of his consuming kisses, muffling the moans that you let out as you came again. He showed no signs of easing up on you as he kept his harsh pace, leaning up to place a hand on the headboard, holding himself up to loom over you. Your palms splayed over his bare chest, feeling the definitions of his lean body beneath them before your hands curled into fists and your nails left pink streaks on his skin, feeling overstimulation begin to hum between your trembling legs. You reached down to wrap one hand around his wrist, prying his fingers away from your abused clit only to have your hand swatted away, making you whine. 

Your chest heaved with each breath and your head turned to the side, burying your face into the pillows. 

“Look at me, little one.” Mairon ordered, voice calm but leaving no room for question and you turned your head back to look up at him, “Good girl.” His red hair was falling like a curtain around the two of you and you reached up to tangle your hands in those soft locks, pulling him down for a kiss, hoping that it could distract you from the overwhelming pleasure that was pooling heavily between your thighs. 

Seeing his eyes, framed by dark makeup, only reminded you of why you were here in the first place. You had been so sure of yourself when you agreed to his little game. 

His hand left your clit and you almost let out a sigh of relief until you were being pushed over onto your front, hands engulfing your hips to pull you onto your knees and then you were full with his cock once more. The position allowed him much deeper and you reached back with one hand to grip his hip, the other one fisting the case of the pillow that your head was being pushed into by a hand on the back of your neck. His thrusts were much harder and you let out a sob when yet another orgasm tore through you, washing your frame in a violent shudder. Any words that left your mouth weren’t able to string into a sentence, babbling out nonsense between cries of his name as he leaned over you, feeling hips lips and teeth on your skin. In this position, your wetness slid down your inner thighs and your nails dug even further into your lover’s hip as his pace lost any form of pattern, leaving you whimpering beneath him as he came with a shuddering moan, hot seed filling your cunt. 

Mairon’s hips stilled against you and he tenderly brushed the hair away from your face, pressing a kiss to your tear-stained cheek as he slowly and carefully slid out of you, sitting up to watch his cum flow from you with a very masculine look of satisfaction at such a sight. He eased your boneless body down to the mattress, laying beside you and gathering you up in his arms. 

“Feeling alright?” He asked quietly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You nodded your head gently, an absentminded smile on your lips. His hands soothingly ran over your flushed and marked skin. “Do you want me to clean you up, little one?” 

“No.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around him. “Stay. We can clean up later.” There was a tender smile on his lips as he gently brushed the hair away from your face, looking at the utter state of ruin that your makeup was in and the satisfied smile upon your mouth. You shifted a little to rest your head on his bicep and melted against him as he ran his fingers carefully through your locks, untangling any knots. You fell asleep as he hummed an unfamiliar melody to you.

🏷️ @clumsycopy​

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Lovely, M!

I would like to request a rough and possessive evil wolf boi smut from you. I love what you've written for him thus far and am hungry for more 😈

Fem reader

Xxxtra spicy / xxxtra ruff

Maybe the ainur, eldar, or silly hoomans were looking at reader in a slightly less than platonic way and Mairon squints his pretty eyes at them in warning but in private he marks up reader and absolutely wrecks her

Hello again! And as for your ask? You want wrecked? Here is wrecked. I think. 

"Impression"

🔥Pairing: Mairon x Fem. Reader (Maia attending Yavanna / Second person POV)

🔥Themes: Smut 

🔥Warnings: Kissing | Some dirty talk | Explicit language | Mild choking | Hickies | Oral (fem receiving) | Rough sex | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

🔥Word count: 2k words

🔥Rating: 🔥🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

🔥Summary: An elf trying to get familiar with you brings out the beast in Mairon.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

Author's notes: Since this ask includes the ainur and/or elves, I thought of setting this scene on Almaren, while Mairon was still an apprentice under Aulë. I also decided to describe the light from the trees spreading out like the northern and southern lights.

The feast was a grand, riotous affair. Aulë, overjoyed with his new bride, held the celebrations in his own halls. There was plenty of food and drink, including delicate pastries, rich soups, and roasted meats, and rich wines to wash it all down. There was also music and dancing, which took place in a hall that was open to the night sky. A roof was not required here, not at this time, not with Telperion's soft light spreading across the darkened heavens in swirling sheer rivers of silver. Torches were few and far between, as more would have marred the splendor of viewing the sky. Laughter was plentiful, and it was here, in this hall, that Mairon sipped at his wine and watched.

Who was he watching? Why, it was you, of course. Mairon kept a close eye on you, watching your every move like a hawk. Oh, but it was not because he doubted you, oh no. He wanted to keep an eye on the Edain that hovered around you like gnats while you carried on, oblivious to them. Mairon on the other hand, didn't miss the sly looks in their eyes or how they followed your every move as you worked your way around the hall, talking with other revelers. He didn't like it, not one bit. He kept watching, growing angrier by the moment, his eyes narrowing to angry slits when a group of those elves came over to talk to you, one of them going so far as to ask you to dance with them and being foolish enough to place a hand at your waist. You quickly slid away and moved to the other side.

What that elf did enraged him. Everyone knew you were with him and that the two of you were together. Everyone knew how he approached you and how both Yavanna and Aulë gave their blessings. And even if they did not, they should have still kept a respectful distance instead of trying to hem you in. Some of them continued to look at you with less-than-innocent eyes, and Mairon, furious with them for trying to take liberties with you, drained the last of his wine and rose to his feet. It was time he joined you, he decided, as he made his way through the crowd to where you were standing.

"My jewel," he said warmly, his hands cupping your cheeks, his kiss a far cry from the quick, casual peck he usually used in these situations. This kiss lingered, leaving you lightheaded and gasping for breath. "Who are these... acquaintances of yours?"

You looked up at him, at eyes that seemed to burn with cold fury. When he arched an elegant brow, you nodded and turned to the elves that sought you out. Mairon listened to the introductions, one arm around your waist, his eyes narrowing again when you told them his name and what he meant to you. The elves took one look at him and saw the warning in his eyes. Oh, they got the hint quickly enough. He was one of the Ainur, was he not? And angering one such as him would not bode well for them. They scattered in no time. Mairon then took your hand and led you through the crowd.

"Where are we going?" you asked when he had you walking out of the hall altogether.

Mairon said nothing. He simply led you through one dark corridor after another, past one empty room after another. He took deep, steadying breaths, to try and calm himself and stop himself from going back and doing something that could not be undone. It enraged him, that those elves conducted themselves the way they did, that one of them touched you the way they did, and the need to remove the impression of that touch raged through him, growing stronger and stronger with each passing moment.

"My love," you tugged at his arm, "Where are we going?"

Mairon stopped when he reached thick wooden doors that were more than twice his height. "Here," he muttered, "Get in, my jewel."

And of course, you recognized this chamber. Wide and airy, this room was for Mairon's personal use on those occasions when he had to work through the night and needed a place to rest for an hour or two. And it was comfortable, with a wide bed at the other end of the room, the quaint chairs by the hearth, and the table he sometimes used for his sketching. Open windows let in Teperion's delicate light and sweet-smelling spring air. 

"My love, why are we here?" You turned to him, trying to make sense of what was going on. All you knew was that he had been angry, that it must have something to do with those elves from before. That rage was still in his eyes, in his jaw, which had remained clenched since the time he approached you at the feast. And his grip, how his hand tightened around yours in his haste to get you out of that corridor.

Mairon didn't answer. He simply came over to you, the heavy thud of his boots echoing across the room. He didn't give you time to think, didn't give you time to even speak. He simply grabbed you by the arms and dragged you in for a kiss. This kiss wasn’t tender. It was full of unbridled fury, demanding your surrender. Your entire fana just yielded, your hands reaching up to grab onto his tunic as you staggered, like your knees tried to buckle under you.

"That elf touched you," he growled as he dragged you to your bed. "He fucking touched you."

So this was the cause of his anger. But did it extend to you too?

"Are you angry with me?" you whimpered helplessly, your arms letting go of his tunic and moving over to his shoulders. His hair, pulled up into a thick bun, came free in your hands. A still waterfall of fired gold fell free, and you couldn't help but bury your hands in those thick, silky locks.

Kisses that were hungry and frantic moved to your throat, teeth grazing—not too gently—over your skin, lips tugging and pulling, leaving patches of red and purple to bloom in their wake. There was wildness in his touch as his hands tore at your dress, leaving it a ruined mess. Large hands—the hands of a smith—rough and callused and hardened, explored and possessed, their grip far from gentle. His name came out like a sob as you gasped–from shock and need­–when those sinful hands of his moved over your breasts, your fingers dragging through his hair when his restless fingers teased and pinched at peaked buds, making them throb and ache.

"I am not angry with you, precious jewel," Mairon pushed you into bed, onto your back, his eyes never leaving yours. And those eyes of his… they were wild and blazing, even in the dim light. "But I need to remove the impression of that touch."

"Do it then," you purred, your gaze drifting over his fana after he made quick work of undressing himself. So perfect, you thought. Mairon was so utterly perfect, and he was yours, just as you were his. Just his. And the only being you'd give yourself to again and again. "Remove it."

Mairon didn’t have to be told twice. He was over you in a heartbeat, his hot mouth crushing yours. There was no tenderness still, only wildness and heat, the kind that burned you to your core. When he gave into raw, unbridled lust, so did you. The two of you were lost in each other, in a frenzied tangle of lips and limbs. Mairon tore up what remained of your clothes in his desperation to get at more of your exposed flesh. His teeth nipped their way over your skin once more, harsh and relentless, his lips starving and greedy. He wanted you a quivering mess and that was what he got when he pushed your thighs apart and moved to your slick heat, his tongue delving between your folds.

You honestly felt you were dying, and you barely clung on, your fingers digging into the sheets every time he laved at your slit. "Mairon," you mewled, panting.

He simply growled and continued, his arms hooking around your thighs and his fingers digging into your skin, leaving little crescent-shaped marks behind. The pain of it was a mere trifle, and the pleasure, oh, how that welled up inside you, drowning you. Your back kept arching, your fana slowly succumbing to the heat that smoldered inside, the hot sparks of it building and building and leaving you in the throes of dark and desperate needs. Mairon felt it—the pressure building, the trembling in your thighs, the raggedness of your breath. He pulled away, leaving wet kisses all over the insides of your thighs and your belly, his teeth marking the very place that elf touched you, his breath hitching when you reared up and pulled him in.

The taste of you lingered on his lips and tongue. The heat of his touch was against your throat, pressing against it softly and carefully, eliciting a sharp gasp and a stunned look.

"You like this, yes?" He muttered, squeezing gently once more, applying just the right amount of pressure, groaning when your nails scoured his back.

He kept doing it, just tight enough to draw out one sharp breath after another. It was too much. Everything he did was too much, and it overwhelmed and jolted you. And you liked it, enjoyed it, and welcomed it. "Yes," you breathed, "I do."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and his lips smothered yours. And Mairon was relentless, dragging you into the same pleasurable madness that threatened to consume him. He couldn’t stop himself, his free hand sliding to your hip, lifting it, moaning long and deep as he plunged in, even as you adjusted to take him in even deeper.

Your legs scrambled for purchase against his hips as he rode you, hard and fast and relentless, his hips bruising the insides of your thighs.  And the way he felt inside you, his cock brushing up against your velvety walls, reaching the deepest part of you, the part that gave you the kind of pleasure you'd never felt before.

"Moan for me," he gasped, his hand squeezing gently over your throat. "You make me even harder when you moan."

Sensation after wild, heated sensation pounded at you, and your lips willingly parted under his command. The sounds that escaped ranged from soft to deep and desperate. And Mairon grew drunk on it—on the sounds you made, on your pleas, on the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. He forced open his eyes, taking in the expressions upon your face, how your hands tore into the sheets. And your eyes, how they darkened bit by bit as your core tightened, as pressure built and built, as your cunt contracted around his cock.

Now, came the frenzied thought. Now. Now. Mairon pushed you deeper into the bed as the muscles in his belly tightened, as he took you over the cliff. He fucked you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher, until it felt like his own fana splintered and his seed spilled into your warmth, and his body trembled even as yours stopped shaking.

"My jewel," he breathed, his chest heaving over yours. Mairon took a deep breath to steady himself, before slowly lowering himself over you, his face burying itself in your hair. You welcomed the weight of him over you, the soft sound of his breathing, and the gentleness of his touch. The two of you lay there, your fanas entwined, your limbs all caught up in a tangle.

The feast was still going on, and the soft strains of music and laughter carried into the room. You ignored that and just focused on him. "Are you still angry with that elf?" You asked teasingly.

Mairon let out a breathy chuckle, his chest rumbling against yours. "I’m still a bit tempted to go back out there and punch that elf right in the face."

"Bloody his nose for me?" You cooed, your nails tracing lazy circles between his shoulder blades. "My champion."

tags: @fictionfordays | @asianbutnotjapanese |@cilil | @edensrose

[ali-r3n]

Halbrand Masterlist

{LOTR: Rings of Power}

Moodboards:

Halbrand’s Lady

Blurbs:

{Coming Soon}

One shots:

Queen of the Southlands

Anytime

Requests:

{Coming Soon}

[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

[autism-purgatory]

Not to be annoying on main but I would let him do unspeakable things to me

[junk-whunk-punk]

Coloring your hair makes you insane ©my experience

but in fact I was just ecstatic with my incredible desire to draw something in traditional, so gathered all my art supplies in a pile (shit and sticks bc i have nothing i'm broke) and pleased my creative impulses... I drew @melkors-big-tits SaBOOBron yaa👹👹

p.s. I admire how unstable his designs are. in a good way. Sauron has his own highlights(???) on each of his new art, and I didn't know what exactly to draw to show that it was Sau eehee🤠🤠

[pursuitseternal]

“The Eighth Day” 💐 S3x Pollen and political meetings in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”💐

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader| E |3.7K

🎨 by @lirotation [Full version under the cut]

For monthly prompt in the Creative Corner discord

Summary: The Netherbrain has fallen, and the Vampire Ascendant seeks to rise. Overtures of political workings are derailed for the new Ascendant when his Consort falls under the influence of some untimely pollen.

CW: sex pollen, secondhand embarrassment, uncontrollable urges, public sex, feral/needy Consort, A!Astarion is aroused and uncomfortable all at once.

Previous Ch | Ao3 link | Masterlist

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐

“I still don’t understand why you insisted I attend too, Astarion,” you grumble as his light-touched fingers remove your cloak for you from behind.

“Well, this is my first official meeting as Vampire Ascendant,” he purrs into your ear as the fabric falls into his arms, “if I have to suffer through having some mortal Grand Duke flaunt his inferior status in my face, you’re sure as the hells are going to suffer too, darling.” He pats you on the shoulder and places a warm, breathy kiss on the scars in your neck. “Besides, I think Ulder liked you better after we saved his arse.” That soft pad of his thumbs runs over your lip as he smirks. “Wait here, I’ll be right back, my darling.” He gathers your cloak and his together to find a servant. Astarion grumbles under his voice as he walks away about how Wyll wouldn’t have let the Vampire Ascendant put up his own cloak, but his father…

His voice was audible only to your ears, even then, barely. You take in the foyer of the grand Ravenguard estate. Turquoise and blues and golds, the colors of the sea cover every wall and surface. You scan the room, the walls hung with paintings of maritime history. Portraits of the Ravenguard line span out towards the halls. And you think you even see Wyll’s from a distance. It makes you smile, if sadly.

How long had it been since you had seen him… any of them? You sigh. Looking for distraction, you note the strange looking arrangement of flowers on the entryway table. Such curious colors and shapes of blossoms, blues and teals that seem to glow. It brings your memories right back to those days in the Underdark. Thoughts turn wistful; those days on the road when your heart pounded with the thrill of oadventure, the memory of aching for the man you now call yours for eternity. You can’t help it, you cross over to those tantalizing blooms and inhale deeply.

It tingles your nose, deadens your other senses, and something burns at the back of your sinuses and throat.

And then you sneeze.

“Gods bless you, my consort,” Astarion purrs as he takes your arm in his and leads you deeper into the mansion. “I’m so glad you’re here at my side, I know that your smiling face and smoothe wit will undoubtedly leave a good first impression,” he smirks.

Your throat starts to go dry, but you swallow and simper at him. “So glad I can be of such service, Astarion,” you rasp as you wipe your nose on the back of your sleeve.

He places a finger over your lips and draws you to a quick, forceful halt. “Pet,” he chides with a tut of his tongue, “what has slipped your mind?” His eyes narrow with a hint of mischief.

“Sorry, Lord Astarion,” you croon as he nods and gives you that fanged smile in approval.

“Good girl,” he replies, “we have to keep up appearances, you know, put our best foot forward, turn every head in the room.”

Your hand laces into his, and as he leads you into the grand room before you, you realize his hand grows colder and colder by the second.

Or, perhaps you are growing hotter and hotter still.

But Astarion only marches forward with focused determination, his voice pure gold and refinement as he greets the Grand Duke with all his well-practiced pleasantries.

You glide to stand at his side, a smile on your face, but your cheeks are decidedly growing warmer to the touch. Then you hear your name from the Grand Duke. “And you, Lady Ancunìn, I trust you don’t miss your days on the battlefield?”

“Oh no,” you smile after you swallow, “there is far more excitement to my liking now as Consort of the Crimson Palace. And my Lord takes such attentive care to my… every need.”

Was that your voice, dipping into dulcet tones of seduction? It must be you, and Astarion must not approve, his hand gripping yours like a vice. You roll your shoulders and smile. “Those days of adventure and rescue do remain fondly in my heart, like our fortuitous timing when we broke that Iron Prison apart.”

Ulder’s bald brow lifts in good humor. “A fact for which I am forever indebted to you and your Lord.”

You flash him a fanged smile, trying your best to look demure and powerful, but drool collects and drips from the corner of your lips.

“Oh, darling,” Astarion croons, suave as ever, even as he pulls you to face him, eyes dark and brows furrowed in disapproval. “Have we forgotten to feed properly today? I suppose you’ll have to wait for a decent nibble until our affairs here are concluded,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb to clean the streak of drool from your chin. “Apologies for my Consort, Grand Duke, she is still new to the sort of hunger and power that comes from being a vampire, let alone being the creation of the Vampire Ascendant.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the way he says his own title. You barely manage to hold your polite smile. Astarion grabs hold of your upper arm, guiding you to sit next to him on the couch beside the fire, the Grand Duke and some of his associates sit opposite. The conversation turns to politics, to the remaining vestiges of the cults of Bhaal and Bane, to the Guild and the criminal aspects of the City…

But your blood boils, your body keens to be touched. Slowly, you scoot across the velvet upholstery of the couch until your side presses against your love.

Better, your body groans, but not enough.

You slowly bring his hand in yours from his lap to wind his arm behind you, a caress along the top of your shoulder, the heat of his skin through his embroidered silk jacket calling to you.

It’s still not enough. You need to smell him to taste him… the droning of his voice is a siren song, and it pulls you until your face presses against the veins of his neck. At last, your mouth waters as you take a loud and deep inhale.

Sniiiiiiff…. “Ahhhh…” you sigh.

“What in the hells are you doing?” he hisses from his mind into yours. “Ten seconds into public power, and you’re already a freak?”

“It burns, my love,” you reply down your bond. “I burn.”

“From embarrassment, certainly,” he grunts at you, settling you back a space from him on the couch. “My apologies, Grand Duke,” he purrs aloud, “newborn spawn can be utterly voracious. But it’s nothing I can’t handle,” he shifts in his seat, confidently crossing one ankle over his knee, a perfected air of nonchalance.

But for you, all you can see is the way his trousers cling to that outline of his beloved cock, a flawless sack to cradle his manhood so perfectly, a neat little package for his package….

“I need you,” your voice purrs, caressing his mind with your own, “now, I need you now.” Even your inner voice sounds deranged, it makes his crimson eyes flicker at you as Ulder drones on about the cost of the repairs to the City from the Illithid attacks.

“Pull yourself together, my darling. Is this all because we were in a hurry this morning?”

Nerves flood with heat, and sweat gathers on your forehead.

Astarion sniffs loudly, scenting your inexplicable arousal. “What’s gotten into you?”

Moisture pools between your thighs, soaking your small clothes and petticoats. You bite your lip, feeling more gathering as you shift your seat, sliding one foot beneath you as you lounge casually against the couch. The pressure against your folds lets you catch your breath for a moment and think. Only once have you felt something similar, though not nearly this perverse or profound. You close your eyes, instantly recalling the same fever in your blood and crying need in your sex from your travels… you picture blue-glowing mushrooms and pervasive darkness. The Underdark. “Spores…” you whimper into his mind. “Spores,” you repeat, your tongue thick in your mouth with the need to lick and suck and bite.

You look at him with pure, abject longing. Desire incarnate. And then you shift yourself over your foot beneath you. A little grind of your hips on your own appendage only makes you long for more friction…

And you whimper.

“I must apologize, Grand Duke, but my Consort is just not herself. Perhaps politics is too much for her to bear.” Then, he snaps your name at you inwardly. “Get up, and get outside,” he snarls, “now.”

You head back into the hall without further question, though you throw a glance at him, the biggest set of bedroom eyes you can muster.

“I believe she needs some air, Grand Duke, a chance for her to regain control of her hunger. Might you have a garden?” He pauses, turning his head and grimacing, “preferably once a bit more… isolated?”

Ulder quirks a brow. “Back out the doors and to the right,” he replies, “a good idea. It should give you enough privacy. Wouldn’t want blood on the antiques you know.”

Astarion maintains that veneer of politesse just long enough to leave the room, his brown darkens and fangs glint the moment he locks that crimson, predatory gaze on you. You shiver, head to toe, to have his full attention at last. Lips locked shut, you just send him your incoherent babble of need from your mind to his; a string of “please, gods, fuck me,” and “I want that perfect cock inside me,” and “ravish me, my love,” surrounded by pants and whimpers.

His eyes look you up and down. “You’re quivering and shaking, you look rabid, sick, deranged,” he shakes his head, leading you into the darkening light of the sunset as your feet skate along behind him down the pebbled path.

A few turns between the shrubbery and he pulls you up to a wide granite bench. He releases your hand, but the absence of his touch makes you whimper and whine with increasing force, just his name over and over again. “Astarion… please…”

“What in the hells has gotten into you?” he snarls under his breath, pulling out a handkerchief to ball up. “I haven’t seen you this bad off since—”

“Spores!” you mewl, collapsing to your knees at his feet, hands raking up the fine fabric of his trousers.

“Precisely, but how could you ever have gotten your nose into Underdark sex spores here?” He shakes his head, “It’s not as if this place is overrun with bright blue glowing mushrooms.”

Lips parting, tongue licking, your eyes are feral and your gaze is wanton as you drop to your knees, your hands on his waist to slam his ass down on the bench. “Hells,” he snaps in pain and surprise. “What the fuck…”

“Yes, yes, fuck,” the word sounds like music on your hungry tongue. “Please, fuck me,” you whine, your hands tugging hard at the fasteners at the side of his hip.

“Easy, easy,” he cajoles you, glancing around once to ensure enough coverage in this spot of the gardens. The bushes are thick, the roses are in bloom, and the fencing here separated the grounds and the manor. A wicked smirk on his full lips, he obliges you, freeing his cock to have you almost swallow it whole. “Gods, darling,” he grunts as he slams into the back of your throat and scrapes against your teeth and fangs. “How in the hells or in this realm did you get like this?”

A valid question, but one that faded mutedly from his mind as you started to suck him more. Logic seemed to elude him, as if drawn out by your lips and tongue until he knew the only way to unravel this puzzle was to fuck some sense back into you both. Wet, lewd sounds come from your lips, your mouth working furiously to consume him, craving his seed, knowing it’ll extinguish the fire in your veins. This suffering has wracked you before, a blind drive to purge the instant swell of lust that dictates your body’s every pulse.

And he’s recognized it, reveling in it as you bob your head with reckless abandon. Until you release him with a loud pop and whine at him from the garden path. “Not enough,” your voice cracks. “I need you, need you…” your hands shake as you scramble to your feet, hiking up your skirts.

“For fucks sake, darling,” Astarion chides you, embarrassed and aroused in equal measure. “Alright, alright,” he blocks your hands from tearing off his clothes… or his face, he’s not quite sure which. “Be a good girl,” he hisses, breath hot down your neck as he backs you up against the fencing, “and hold on tightly.”

He takes your half-bunched skirts from your shaking hands as he hushes you. “It’s going to be alright,” he consoles you. “At least we’ve endured this sort of suffering before. You are in really rough shape, my dear. Thank goodness you have me to fuck it all away, darling?”

You nod, eagerly grinding against him, wrought iron bars pressed into your back, your hand and nails gripped hard into his perfect ass.

“Oh, I’ve missed this, how needy this magic makes you. What a glorious little mishap… although you could have timed it better,” he levels those crimson eyes at you, teasing the flushed, hot head of his cock up and down your entrance. “If we didn’t need to attend to business, I’d draw this out for you, just to teach you when you shouldn’t be sticking that nose of yours into Underdark spore magic.”

Embarrassingly high pitched whimpers flutter at your lips, tears in your eyes at the thought of being left so unsatisfied. “Please, please, I’m being so good. I need you… need you,” you start to keen louder and louder.

Astarion’s warm palm covers your mouth, a laugh in his throat. “A good thing Ulder is an idiot and thinks you’re just hungry for my blood,” he sniggers more to himself than for your benefit.

“Hungry; yes, starving for your cock, my love,” you pant, salivating again, missing its hard length and warm pulse in between your lips.

“It’s alright, I’ll take good care of you… if you can keep quiet.” His hand presses against your neck teasingly as he reaches for the bars above you for leverage. “And if you can’t be quiet, then I have to resort to other measures of silence, you understand, my pet?”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding vigorously, sweat dripping from your brow to feel his cock pressed hard against your belly. Your own hand tears at your neck line, your skin too hot and flushed and needing to be caressed, a single breast loosens from your neckline. Those crimson eyes devour the sight of your swaying breast and its peaked nipple, almost as if he’s the one possessed by magic and lust.

“Gods, you’re so hot again, burning and thrumming, a warm, living body with undead power,” his eyes dilate to nearly black to feel your slit warm once more as he grinds his cock against it. Those dexterous fingers lift your thigh, and he thrusts inside you in one swift shove of his body. The iron gate creaks under the force, but its volume is nothing compared to the way your undead heart thumps in your ears, slow but hard.

“Astarion,” you whine louder, “I need more…”

“Then more you shall have my pet,” he hisses in your ear. He groans at the now unfamiliar warmth, the dripping, blistering heat that rages in your body. “Just like old times,” his voice barely audible, so husky and rough as he slams into you. Every thrust makes the gate behind you rattle, stealing gasp after gasp from your mouth, even as you try to swallow them back into silence.

His hands grip your ass in warning the moment your noises seem to crescendo. “Ah, ah,” he chides. But as those hips snap harder against you, it grows difficult to be good, to be silent and careful as he asked.

The heat is too much, the pulsing fire in your veins too demanding…. “More,” you whine. “I need it, your delicious self.” His hand flies to cover your mouth, muting your pants and stifling your noises.

“That’s it, my love,” he groans right in your ear, feeling your legs beginning to shake and your knee buckle. “Come for me, burn up that magic and purge that heat all… over… me.”

You throw your head back, banging it on the bars, hissing in pain and yet groaning in relief as your orgasm builds to bursting. You bite into his gagging hand, fangs sinking into the sides of his fingers and palm. He hisses in pain, a sound quickly overtaken by the rapid grunts of his own climax. Face pressing against your neck, he mutes the roar of his own shaking bliss, warmth dripping down your one standing leg.

The air feels cool in your lungs, your pulse slowing back to its undead dirge of a tempo in your chest. You taste blood on your tongue, and you sweep its tip to lap along the edge of his hands where it protrudes into your mouth.

Astarion musters enough strength to lift his head, his curls looking a bit well-tossed. “How’s that, my darling? Are you decent enough to make it home?” He purrs the questions in your ear, his voice partly laced with concern, equally rippling with hope to the contrary.

You give a more steady smile, master of yourself once more, for now. Your thoughts still elude you, but your body doesn’t burn with boiling lust, more of a simmer. A whine escapes as he slips from your folds, his hands adjusting your dress and stuffing his cock back inside his own trousers. “What, for the life of me, brought this on you? What have you been sticking your nose into, darling?”

“Spores,” you repeat as before. “Blue!” You add. Muttering the words again, thighs starting to clench and rub on themselves already.

“I’ll get you out of here,” his mind racing, “image is everything, and right now this… image… isn’t quite our best foot forward.” A scan of you both, and he pauses, less than satisfied. “You need more blood,” he assesses, “or they’ll never believe you were just feeding…” A swift bite to his own wrist, and he smears your chin, your lips in his scarlet essence.

Hustling you into the mansion again, he practically carries you, arm threaded behind your back. “I’m dreadfully sorry, but my newborn Consort must retire…” he stops you both in the entrance hall, his voice muted as your mind pounds, the magic in your bloodstream calling to its source as you stand near the door.

Astarions wraps your cloak around you, feeling your skin flushing again under his touch. He follows your gaze, honed in like an eagle on those blue flowers, a soft glow beginning to emanate from them as the shadows lengthen in the day…

“My dearest Consort, why don’t you wait for me in the carriage,” he bids you.

You nod, meeting Ulder’s dark eyes, wide in shock at the state of your blood streaked face. He mumbles some prayers, probably wards against the undead, such as yourself. You hear his deep voice speaking with Astarion once more.

“Oh, these flowers? Just a gift from the Myconid colony’s ambassador, a token for me and my wife…”

A low chuckle sounds from your lover’s throat. “Oh, no doubt it is, I have never seen such rare blossoms, though they do make me recall some rather fond memories of the Underdark…” your love’s voice trails off the further you walk, his purr drowned out by the increasing thumping of your cold heart against your ribs. Waves of need build once more, rapid and consuming, and you groan to haul yourself into the carriage so you can wait for more…

By the time you make it home, you’re aching… sore… and you’ve had him on almost every surface between your carriage and your bed at last. But that was yesterday. Now, knowing yourself once more, you wake to a new day. Sunlight warms your bed, your skin absorbing it now that you are corpse cold again.

As cold as the rest of your sheets, you realize. He’s gone already, smug bastard, probably with his hair extra curled from your rigorous activities and a satisfied smirk on his full lips.

Groggy and cursing, you manage to sit yourself up against the pillows, and you ring for your maid. She enters quickly, hands outstretched with a message from the Master, she tells you, who left that morning to resume acquaintances with the Grand Duke.

Your cheeks would flame red if they still drew on the heat of that aphrodisiac magic. The note is penned in his immaculate hand: “Ulder was far too easy to convince you were merely a victim of sanguine hunger. And he was far too eager to agree to my offer of coin in exchange for your gift. Don’t indulge or inhale too deeply without me.”

His signature was almost as elegant and impressive as he himself.

“A gift?” you ask, warrily, knowing all too well the sorts of gifts Astarion tends to bestow.

With a snap of her fingers, your servant calls in another, a scarf tied tightly over her nose and mouth, a silver tray between her hands. Adorning the silver lies a beautiful bouquet of glowing sapphire flowers. The very same from the Grand Duke’s manor. The source of your follies and cause for all your most embarrassing thoughts to ponder when you can’t sleep.

“My Lord is so…. Thoughtful,” you reply, abstaining from adding, ‘and selfish and arousing and cheeky and…’ You pinch your nose, just in case. “Set it carefully over there,” you flail your exhausted arm in the direction of a table and groan, seeking the rest you will inevitably require. And you smile.

[furious-haste-of-malice]

❝ "Come, Mulkhêrînim, and do not be shy. The Elf-prince is yours to use tonight, for this is how the Lord rewards his loyal subjects." ❞

⊱ Prompt: Pillory/stocks, free use ⊱ Pairing: Númenórean cultists x Maglor, Mairon ⊱ Synopsis: Mairon captures Maglor and brings him to the Temple of Melkor as a gift to his loyal followers. ⊱ Featuring: The Cult of Melkor is also a deranged sex cult now because Mairon said so, references to past Angbang ⊱ Warnings: Non-con, ritualistic gang rape, sadism & voyeurism (on Mairon's part in particular), the prompts by themselves

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Another one for @tolkienpinupcalendar's Dead Dove December; we're nearing the end (one more regular chapter that I have already written plus a bonus fic I'm currently working on).

Mulkhêrînim - (Adûnaic) - Children of Melkor. Thought it would be a lovely way for Mairon to address them like that as an ultimate affront against Eru. Translation by me with the help of this dictionary (because in the Tolkien fandom even the nasty porn needs linguistics!)

"I have a special gift for you today, oh faithful Mulkhêrînim." 

His loyal cultists mumbled among themselves when Mairon presented them with the exquisite treat he had captured. 

At first glance, it appeared to be yet another captive, like the innumerable amount he had caught in the service of his lord – a dark-haired man, albeit handsome by incarnate standards, was kneeling on the dais in front of the altar, his head and hands secured by a hastily erected pillory, naked save for a flimsy loin cloth. 

The more perceptive among Mairon's followers, however, had already noticed what made this one special: The pair of pointed ears sticking out from the mess that was his hair, almost defiantly announcing his identity as one of Ilúvatar's immortal children. 

"Is that an Elf?" one of the cultists gasped, pointing at the helpless prisoner. 

"Indeed it is, very good," Mairon purred and stood next to the Elf in question to almost tenderly pull his hair out of the way to show them off. "But not any Elf; I have captured one of royal blood." 

The whispering among his followers intensified, and he savoured the tension before the anxiously awaited revelation. 

"Meet Prince Makalaurë, also known as Maglor, the last living son of Fëanor!"

Laughing and jeering erupted from the crowd, their faces changing from curious to ravenous within seconds. Maglor, however, remained quiet, merely pressing his lips together and hardening his gaze. 

I suppose his dear brother told him what happens to those who talk back, Mairon thought with a pleased smirk. 

"Our minstrel's lonely wanderings have finally come to an end, so that he may grace us with his presence instead," he declared with a grand gesture, smugness bleeding into his tone like black ink dripping into water. 

"Will he be a sacrifice to the Lord?" a younger cultist asked. 

Mairon laughed. Oh, Melkor would be delighted to witness this scene; he could practically hear his gleeful laughter echoing through the temple from beyond the circles of the world, could see his eyes gleaming with dark amusement, could feel his joy – but he swiftly tore himself away from his memories and imagination, lest he be distracted for too long. 

"Perhaps he will be in time," he drawled, "though for now he shall serve you." 

His mortal followers, while loyal and so very eager to attain the immortality he had promised, didn't seem to grasp the meaning of his words, looking up at him expectantly. None had the courage to ask. Mairon suppressed a sigh of exasperation and the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and stepped aside so they could properly admire Maglor's scantily clad form.

"Have you never dreamed of getting a taste of what we will conquer? Of enjoying the pleasures of immortal flesh?" He chuckled. "Such rare blood is too precious to spill with haste, would you not agree? After all..." 

In one swift movement, Mairon raked his claw-like golden nails down Maglor's back, drawing blood and eliciting a piercing scream. 

"He has such a beautiful voice, for which he is renowned to this day. What a waste it would be to not enjoy his illustrious company..." 

Murmurs of agreement rose within the crowd, and a few cultists came closer, looking up at their high priest as they waited for permission. Mairon stepped back to make space for his followers and beckoned them with an elegant wave of his hands, causing the golden bangles on his arm to clink and tinkle. 

"Come, Mulkhêrînim, and do not be shy. The Elf-prince is yours to use tonight, for this is how the Lord rewards his loyal subjects." 

A heady mix of lust and greed filled the room, and he inhaled it eagerly, a warm shudder going through him. He was going to enjoy this spectacle greatly. 

Had he caught any other Elf, he would have to be worried that their fëa would all too soon flee to Mandos, unable to endure such violation, but the Fëanorion's ill-fated oath would keep him chained to his hröa. 

Robes billowing behind him as if moved by an unseen tempest of malice, Mairon strutted around the altar and leapt onto the lap of Melkor's statue with feline grace, taking a seat like a king would sit on a throne. 

"Do you see that, precious? Almost like home," he whispered to the statue and pressed a reverent kiss onto the cold marble hand, exactly where his ring would have been. 

Maglor didn't scream when his loin cloth was torn off him, nor when greedy hands explored his body and fondled him like a common whore. He didn't grace his captors with any pleas or protests. Only when one cultist knelt behind him and forced his cock inside, he finally cried out. 

Mairon smiled. Awaken their lust, and they are reduced to mere animals, as you taught me yourself. 

The scene unfolding in front of him was chaotic, erratic and filthy, just like Melkor would have loved it. The Man's coupling with their Elven captive was frenzied and hasty, gripping his hips with his knuckles white, chasing his pleasure. Maglor himself was soon silenced – in spite of his wonderful voice and the lovely sound of his screams – by another cultist forcing his mouth open to shove his cock down his throat.

"Let's see what else he can do with that talented tongue of his," another commented on the act, followed by raucous laughter. 

Mairon considered chastising them for not appreciating the beauty of a voice trembling with pain and despair, but instead kept a serene expression as if it had been an amusing statement. He couldn't quite fault them for it; after all, mortals were ever so impatient, and their new toy had many of them to satisfy. 

Whenever one finished inside of him, another would take their place. A young initiate was sent to retrieve some oil for additional lubrication and returned with a pitcher containing the very same sacred oil that was used in their ritual sacrifices – another thing too entertaining to be irked by, and thus Mairon remained silent, smiling and nodding along whenever one of his followers looked up at him for encouragement. 

"Let us see if they can break him, precious," he whispered to the statue. 

Maglor's head hung low whenever no one held it in place, though he had little room to move. The pillory kept him upright even as knees gave in, and seed had begun leaking out of him and down his thighs. Mairon was delighted to see droplets of red marring creamy white and caught the distinct scent of blood. Still, it didn't stop his followers from using their new toy like wild beasts mounting one another during mating season. Some also opted to help themselves before or after their turn, spilling onto whichever part of Maglor they could reach. 

Mairon hadn't paid attention to the passage of time, but he estimated a few hours had passed when they were finally done with the Noldorin prince, readjusting their robes and withdrawing from him while glancing up at their master. Abandoning his comfortable seat on the statue – though most unwillingly – he stepped closer to survey the results. 

Despite no longer being gagged, Maglor was eerily silent. His entire form was stained with viscous white, his face in particular, his lips were swollen, his legs trembling, his hole loose and leaking. 

Mairon graced his followers with a bright, pleased smile as if they had done him a great kindness and placed his fingertips together. 

"Well done, Mulkhêrînim. Our Lord shall look down upon you with benevolence and grant his favour to those who stand against his enemies." 

Maglor let out a small snort, yet the spark of rebellion was short-lived when Mairon backhanded him across the face with graceful elegance that belied the force of his blow. 

"Now take our guest to the King's dungeons and make accommodations worthy of a prince." 

The sweet smile on his face then twisted, showing sharp teeth, and his voice darkened as he added, "And make sure he cannot escape, lest you wish to invoke our Lord's wrath." 

Thanks for reading! ♡

[marimosalad]

Forge sex, Part II (NSFW)

🔥

Uncensored, full image on AO3 ❤️

[kiatheinsomniac]

KINKTOBER 2022

✩*⢄⢁✧day eighteen: begging - Mairon

tag: #Tyelpëlos Kinktober Event

word count: 0.3k

warnings: smut, NSFW content, MDNI, begging,

“Mairon…” You tried to sound warning and yet your tone only came out as weak and desperate as you were. “Mairon, please…” Your wrists tugged at the ropes above your head, body squirming against the plush mattress and sheets, trying to turn your hips, to push them closer to where he was so teasingly rubbing his cock against your drenched and aching pussy. Your fiery-haired lover was pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance again and again before sliding his way through your slit to tease your clit just enough to keep you all riled up before leaving again. He was stroking himself with his hand, unabashedly moaning at the sight of you so desperate and needy beneath him. 

“If you want something, precious, you’re going to have to beg for it. More than these pathetic little ‘please, Mairon, please’s.” He mocked your voice and let out another obscene groan just to taunt you further. 

“Mairon, I need you, please, I’m begging you to fuck me. Please?” Your head fell back when he teased your clit for a mere moment before pulling away once more, his fiery eyes smouldering and lidded with lust as he watched you struggle beneath him, so desperate to feel full with his cock. You fought against the ropes and pushed your hips against him until your muscles tensed and ached, so desperate for him to just take you already, trying to beg him with your body as much as you were your words. You spread your legs invitingly and brought them upwards, enticing him to push them down against your chest as he took you. 

“Giving up already?” He taunted and you whined. 

“Mairon, please, I need you, I need you so badly. You know that no one else can do it like you, that I can’t even do it like you. I’m yours, all yours, you’ve ruined me and now I’m begging you, pleading with you, to just take me.” Your fiery-haired lover let out a deep groan, looking down at you hungrily with burning eyes, made all the brighter by the dark makeup that framed them. 

“That’s my girl… Get ready to be ruined all over again.” 

☾ ⋆ﾟ  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee? ✧⋆.・゜Want to be tagged?

🏷️@clumsycopy @edensrose @augustwithquills @involuntaryspasms @wolfwarrior06 @eunoiaastralwings @welcometomordor @spidergirla5

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Requests opeeennnnn >:3

I love your writing sm

May I pretty please request some smexy smut with my beloved evil wolf boi Mairon?

I had this idea that reader surprises him one night wearing a leather harness, collar and leash, wolf ear headband, and a tail :3

Woof!

Now, I'm going to operate under the assumption that the reader is female. But, if you'd like a male reader insert, let me know.

And let's begin.

"The surprise"

Pairing: Mairon x Fem. Reader (Maia / Second person POV)

Themes: Smut 

Warnings: Kissing | Nicknames | Some roleplay | Oral (male receiving) | Penetrative sex | Rough sex | Love bites | Dom sub aspects

Word count : 2.1k words

Summary : Enticing your lord with a surprise results in more than you could possibly imagine.

Rating : 🔥🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+ 

Want to be tagged? want to know the rules? Read all here.

Mairon stretched out in bed, wondering what was taking you so long. "Is everything well with you, my jewel?"

You hummed and shook your head. Who knew Mairon could be impatient? "Yes, my lord!" you called out from behind the dressing screen. "I just need another moment."

Had you heard his impatient huff, you would have chuckled. Mairon sighed and looked around, his mind plagued by ravenous curiosity. You said you had a surprise planned for him, and no amount of asking, pleading, and yes, even threats, got you to give so much as a sliver of a clue. He looked up at the intricately carved canopy of his four-poster bed and decided that if you didn't come out soon, he would have to go get you himself.

It seemed like an age had passed. "I apologize for making you wait so long, my lord," you finally said, and stepped away from the screen.

Mairon looked at you, his eyes wide as he gaped. "My jewel?" he pointed at your head - "Are those..." - and titled his own in confusion. "Ears?"

You nodded as you stood there, clad in a black robe with a high neck. "False ears, my lord," you fidgeted hesitantly with the headband, hoping he would like what you had done. "Made to look like wolf ears."

"I see," said Mairon, as his gaze raked over your high-necked robe. "And what, pray tell, do you have under that robe, my jewel?"

Your tongue got all twisted up in knots. "I... I... It was something I made, my lord."

Mairon rose and left the bed, his curiosity peaking. "Something you made, my jewel?" He came over to you and circled you, playing with the false ears as he did so. "May I see it?"

You swallowed, suddenly embarrassed. "It's nothing, really," your cheeks flushed as you reconsidered your little scheme. What if he didn't like it? What if he laughed?

Mairon arched a quizzical brow as he kept circling. Nothing, you said. And yet, you wanted him to see it, made him wait for you to show it. "It cannot be nothing, my jewel, if you went to all this trouble." 

Mairon stopped in front of you as he caved into his need to know. "Show me, my jewel," he said sternly. "Now."

You swallowed, but nodded and worked on the ties of your robe. The knot, though simple, suddenly refused to yield to fingers that had turned into clumsy thumbs. You struggled, trying hard not to look at him. Mairon watched, highly amused by now.

Your hands refused to cooperate, and Mairon chuckled before coming over to help. "My sweet jewel," he sighed and undid that bothersome knot, not knowing what to expect as he peeled the robe away from your body. "Why you are like this, I will never kn--"

His words died on his tongue when your robe parted, exposing the naked body beneath. Mairon swallowed when you slipped out of your robe and let it fall around your feet. 

You looked away, not knowing what he'd say. "Do you like it, my lord?"

Mairon hummed and circled you again. He drank in the leather harness that artfully crisscrossed around your torso and ended right around the edge of your hips. He played with the false tail hanging at the back of the harness. His eyes narrowed when he caught the lace collar around your throat, and the leash that hung from it. Mairon couldn't deny you looked so tempting in it, couldn't deny the sudden need that took root in his belly.

"I like it, my jewel. I like it very much." Mairon took one last turn, his body going hard when he eyed the pretty lace collar around your neck. "And what are you tonight, my jewel? An equal who has her say in tonight's pleasures, or," He stopped in front of you again and picked up the leash, gently tugging at it and pulling you closer. "A submissive ordered about by her superior?"

You swallowed when his eyes gleamed and burned a deep, golden yellow. Oh, the beast was there, just beneath the surface. A little encouragement was all that was needed. "Ordered about," your body tensed and pulsed when you heard a growl of approval. "My lord."

Mairon smirked and dipped his head so he could brush his lips over yours. "Good, my jewel." His lips quirked as he reconsidered what he just said. "Or to be more precise, my pet."

You hummed and looked up at him. Mairon's eyes gleamed wickedly when you licked your lips in anticipation. 

"Come, my pet," he said, and pulled at the leash, making you follow him. You thought he'd take you to bed, but he didn't. Mairon led you to the soft pelt carpet spread in front of his favourite seat, one that was all ornate and richly decorated. "On your knees," he ordered and pointed at the spot he wanted you to be.

You sink to your knees, not knowing what he'll make you do next.

Mairon took you in, all compliant and submissive. When you looked up at him as if in expectation, he hummed and wondered what to do next. Then, seeing your lips gave him an idea. A wicked grin tugged at his lips when he sat down and made himself comfortable. "My breeches," he eyed you wolfishly. "Undo it."

You made quick work of undoing the lacings, biting your lower lip when he lifted his hips so you could pull down the waistband, freeing his cock. You sink back to your knees, your hands folded neatly over your lap. Mairon leaned over and cupped your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. He let his hand wander, brushing it against your hair, making you giggle when he booped you on the nose. Mairon chuckled, then ran his thumb over your lips before forcing them apart. When you felt his thumb in your mouth, you couldn't help but suck down on it, running your tongue against a smooth pad. Mairon groaned when your lips tightened around his finger, your tongue flicking at it, as if tasting it. His breath grew ragged when he pictured your lips around his cock.

He pulled back to pick up your collar, tugging at it and forcing you up. "Come here my pet," Mairon leaned back into his chair again. "And ruin that pretty mouth of yours."

You complied and sat up, whimpering when he tugged on your leash again, pulling you until your lips were right over his cock. Your throat tightened when you wrapped a hand around his length, and he let out his first moan, his head rolling back as he made himself more comfortable. 

Oh, how wonderfully sinful it felt, to touch him like this, to work out a rhythm and pace he liked. You licked your lips as little drops formed at the tip of his cock, and unable to help yourself, you dipped your head and took him into your mouth, wanting to taste.

Oh, how good he tasted against your tongue. Moans that were deep and lustful left you heady and weak. Mairon groaned when your lips tightened as they bobbed up and down. A large hand bunched up in your hair, pushing your head down even lower until your mouth was completely full. Your own body responded to his moans and whispers by growing incredibly heated and slick. Your own moans were muffled as he kept sinking his length into your mouth, his hips slowly thrusting in rhythm with your lips.

Mairon felt lightheaded and dizzy. He forced his eyes open, just so he could watch. And he was not disappointed. Seeing your head bob up and down and your mouth growing full of him made the pleasure build slowly and unceasingly, making him hungry for more than your lips. He wanted you on your hands and knees as he took you, his hand pulling on that leash of yours, his teeth leaving his mark all over your body.

"Stop," he made himself say. When you pulled back, he didn't give you time to think. Mairon yanked on your leash again, this time leaning forward and crushing your lips with his.

Oh, how he kissed you, with fire and need. Mairon was relentless, leaving you breathless. When your hands found themselves in his hair, you moaned into his mouth, shuddering when his tongue licked past your parted lips. Your body throbbed as he kissed and kissed, his name rolling off your lips in soft pants.

Mairon grabbed onto you as he got out of his chair, hooking his arms around you and lowering you to the ground, his thighs forcing yours apart.

"T-the bed, m-my l-lord," you whimpered when the carpet rubbed against your back.

Mairon's chest rumbled when he took in your bruised lips, your darkened eyes. You were more than ready for him. "Not tonight, my pet," he said and dipped his head, sinking his teeth over the soft flesh of your throat. 

He wasn't sure what was sweeter, the taste of your skin, or the arched back and moans that greeted him with every nip. Mairon took great care to mark you all over that mattered, the parts of your body that would be exposed, so everyone would know who you belonged to. The beast in him reared its head, and with a growl, he flipped you onto your back and turned your collar around, so he could get a better hold of your leash.

You braced yourself when he lifted your hips and teased your entrance repeatedly by rubbing his cock against your slit. It was torture, but this was what you wanted, and you mewled every time he feigned entry before pulling away again. It was too much, and then, just when you couldn't take it anymore, Mairon yanked onto your leash, pulling you up so you were propping yourself on your hands, and he moved that false tail out of the way. He gave no other warning or sign. With a deep and guttural groan, he plunged into your heat, grabbing onto the belt of your harness with your free hand and pulling you back into him.

You saw stars when he filled you, your walls aching and throbbing and clenching around his cock. Your breath had reduced to ragged pants when Mairon started to thrust in a languid rhythm that slowly grew harder, rougher, and faster every time either one of you moaned.

"Is this what you wanted, pet?" Mairon hissed as he felt his muscles coil.

You moaned when he tugged on your leash, making the backs of your thighs slam against his. "Yes, my lord," you moaned again when he struck that spot that gave you such intense pleasure. "This was what I wanted."

He growled, his rhythm growing wild and frantic. When you squirmed beneath him, he tugged harder at your harness and collar, growing drunk on your mewls and whimpers. "That's it, my pet." He picked up his pace as he took in the sounds of skin slapping against skin. "Give in. Give in."

It felt like the room suddenly went blurry as your orgasm ripped through you. The sensations that washed over you were more intense than anything you had experienced, and you cried out repeatedly as Mairon fucked you through your orgasm. You barely heard it—the deep and satisfying moan he let out when he thrust one last time and emptied himself inside you.

That red haze that clouded you slowly cleared. You first felt your breath, then heard his. Your knees were sore, and your back hurt. It was still good. Everything felt so good despite those discomforts. Mairon pulled out of you, groaning when he caught his essence slowly dripping out of you. But he was far from done. He had more in store for you. 

You sighed when he helped you up, his hands gliding all over your body. "Was that good for you, my jewel?" he asked.

"Yes," you hummed when he laid you down gently on your back this time. "So good, my lord."

How it thrilled Mairon to hear it. "And I relished it, every sound you made, the sweetness of your lips," he said, moving himself over you, his lips a hair's breadth over yours. "How your cunt fluttered around my cock." He brushed back your hair as he pressed a soft kiss against your lips. "And I wish for more."

You wanted it; you wanted to feel him all over you again. When you smiled in invitation, Mairon grinned and dipped his head. 

[barbedbetty]

Stay with Me

Halbrand x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Semi rough, semi public, p in v, a little dirty talk, sex on an anvil bc c’mon, oral (fem receiving)

Y’all gotta forgive me, I just saw the new ROP yesterday and so this was not reviewed

When I first met Galadriel and Halbrand in Numenor, I had a strange mix of feelings about them.

Galadriel is kind and compassionate and fierce, she carried herself with confidence that I could only dream of having.

Halbrand on the other hand was more mysterious, he was constantly watching everyone. A lot like me I suppose, I grew up in my fathers forge and while most girls weren’t in the Navy, it wasn’t forbidden. He was spending a lot of time with my father watching him work and helping him with a few projects. I did think he was handsome but I steered away from him, he was a stranger to our island and I didn’t want to get attached.

Or so I thought, once I volunteered to go to the Southlands to fight with Galadriel, he was taking more interest in me.

I remember how Halbrand looked at me when I signed up for the voyage and he was waiting in the archway of my fathers forge that night.

“My father is away for the night.” I said as I walked past him. I set down a few things from the market and I saw him from the corner of my eye turn to face me.

“I didn’t come to see him.” He said in a low tone. “Why did you volunteer to go to the Southlands?”

I paused and turned to look at him. He looked ever more handsome with the moonlight behind him and his green eyes almost glowed in the firelight.

“I thought an adventure might be fun.” I smirked at him and he smiled.

“War is an adventure?” He came closer and I could smell the saltwater still drying on his skin.

“War is a part of life, it brings peace when done correctly.” I said quietly.

“I agree.” He reached out and gently grasped my chin, he tilted my head up so I was forced to hold eye contact.

He leaned toward me and it was like time stood still, he moved closer and closer and I was frozen in place. When his lips touched mine, it felt like my blood was on fire and then everything was moving too fast.

His fingers quickly went from my chin to my neck and I ran my hands up his chest to his shoulders and yanked him towards me.

His kiss stole the air from my lungs and I was not complaining. His other hand gripped my hip and pushed me backwards till the back of my thighs hit the large anvil.

He pulled his lips away and kept his grip on the back of my neck. He glanced down at the anvil and I could see his pupils get bigger and he looked back at me with a hunger that almost frightened me.

“If you want me to stop, tell me right now.” He said in a deep tone while holding my neck tighter with one hand and slowly lifting my skirt with the other. “Once I start, I will not stop.”

“Don’t stop.” I whispered and grabbed his collar and kissed him hard.

He easily lifted me to set me on the anvil and yanked my skirt up as far as he could. I reached down to untie his belt but he grabbed my wrists in a shockingly tight grip and shook his head.

“Not yet.” He whispered.

Before I could even let out a breath, Halbrand knelt before me and lifted my legs on top of his shoulders and started licking my cunt.

I cried out and gripped the anvil as tight as I could. He held tight to my thighs and moaned as his tongue made indecipherable designs in my folds, I felt him groan into me and I wanted to scream.

Everything felt amplified, I’d never experienced anything like this before. My skin felt like it was on fire, his tongue was erasing thoughts from my mind until there was only him. I could hear people laughing in the pub across the road and see dust floating through the firelight, I looked down and Halbrand was looking up at me. When we made eye contact, he pushed his tongue as far as he could inside me and I moaned out loud, I bit my lip and leaned my head back. His nail bit into my flesh but there was so much adrenaline pumping through me I felt nothing.

He moaned again and I felt my climax coming, so fast that it almost scared me. I tried to tell him to slow down but every time I could get a syllable out, he pushed his tongue further inside me and curled it against that one perfect spot and I almost blacked out.

Too soon, he tugged my thighs as tight as he could, he growled against my clit and curled his tongue over and over and over until I saw stars and my vision went white. My muscles grew tighter than ropes on a sail and I covered my mouth with one hand to try and keep my scream as quiet as possible.

I was still panting when Halbrand stood up, slowly lowering my legs from his shoulders and he licked his lips slowly before taking my hand off my mouth and kissing me slowly.

“Halbrand.” I whispered he pulled away.

“Y/N.” He whispered back and smiled at me. “I’m not done yet.”

He smiled as he held onto my hips and pulled my body flush against his, I could feel his cock rub against my cunt. I moaned and leaned my head back. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me back to him.

“Look at me.” He growled and then he pushed slowly inside me.

I gasped and opened my mouth to cry out but no sound came out. His green eyes held my gaze in a strange way, it was so intimate that it made me blush more than his cock hitting my cervix. I shivered when he paused for a moment, he was taking deep and slow breaths.

“Don’t look away.” He whispered as he pulled his hips back slowly and gripped the back of my neck. “Look at me, luv.”

“Yes,” I gasped as he pushed back inside me. “Yes, Halbrand!”

I moaned and fought against the urge to to close my eyes, instead gripping his shoulders as tight as I could to hold him close.

His pupils were so big, his eyes were practically black, his tunic had fallen open and I could see his chest was flushed up to his neck. His thrusts were gaining speed and force and knocking the air from my lungs. All I could do was hold onto him as my eyes welled with tears.

He smiled as he kept thrusting harder and harder and whispered.

“You can close your eyes, I will have you more than once.” He let go of my hair and I leaned my head back as he used one hand to pin my hip still and the other to hold onto the anvil.

I felt another orgasm warm my skin like a hot summer breeze and I dug my nails into his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his hips as best I could.

“Come for me, luv.” He groaned and he thrusted with everything he had. “Come on my cock.”

I cried out and buried my face in his neck as I came harder than I ever had before in my life.

It was like I was pushed into ice cold water, every muscle seized up and yet it was the best feeling.

Halbrand rocked his hips slower as my pussy pulsed around his member and as he grunted and cried out my name, I felt him come deep inside me, letting me feel his warmth drip down my thighs.

I was panting like I ran five miles as he slowly pulled out of me.

He groaned and felt up my body with his rough hands and cupped my face and kissed me with a passion that made me want to pull him back inside me.

He finally broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Stay with me in the Southlands.” He whispered, gently rubbing my face with his thumbs.

“Is that an order?” I smiled and looked up at him.

“Please?” He smirked and kissed me chastely. “Stay with me?”

[cilil]

AN: Back again with @angbangweek! Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday, but all the remaining ones are written now. Maybe I'll also get you a little surprise... :)

This one is a gift for the wonderful @neldeathstar, inspired by this artwork. I took some creative liberties with the timeline and all, but I hope I captured the energy of the piece regardless. Thanks for all your hard work and enjoy!

⚡︎ Prompt(s): Fire & lava ⚡︎ Synopsis: Melkor and Mairon engage in a fun roleplaying (and fucking) session in the depths of Utumno ⚡︎ Warnings: Smut, kinky roleplay, light bondage ⚡︎ Short oneshot (~700 words) | AO3

"How do you want me, my lord?"

"Chained within the deepest pits of Utumno, where Arda's blood runs through her veins." 

Melkor looked at him with burning eyes.

"Naked. Ready for me. All mine."

~ 

Those had been the words exchanged between the two of them before Mairon had descended into the deepest dungeons of Utumno to make that fantasy become reality. 

Everything had to be perfect for his precious. 

Thus he was now standing in the middle of a lava lake, his wrists chained to a rocky column, his neck adored with a black collar. Attached to it, as well as to the golden bars piercing his nipples, was a thin golden chain that went around his hips and thighs. Mairon coyly crossed his legs to hide what lay between and pretended to squirm in his bindings. 

Melkor was regarding him from the entrance of the cavern, silent, but with an appreciative smirk. His icy blue eyes seemed to be on fire, smouldering and wild, fueled by the lovely image presenting itself to him.

He approached in swift, long strides, and Mairon suppressed a self-satisfied smile. His precious was always so impatient, but he wasn't going to complain. At least he wouldn't have to wait. 

"Such a pretty thing, all alone and helpless in my dungeons," Melkor purred and began caressing his hair. "Should I free you from such a predicament before evil things find you and take advantage?" 

"Yes, my lord, please," Mairon said, demurely lowering his gaze to play the part of a shy, lost Maia. 

"Of course, little flame." He could hear Melkor's grin in his voice. "But first I shall have you, as is my right as lord of this fortress." 

Before Mairon could pretend to protest, he was swiftly and forcibly turned around and pushed forward, his palms coming to rest on the rock's jagged surface. One of Melkor's hands came to rest on his neck, keeping him bent over, while the other grabbed his hip. 

"Now spread your legs like a good little Maia..." 

He did, spreading them as far as he could and keeping his hips raised, utterly shameless. His beloved adored seeing him in positions like this, he knew, all obedient and submissive. 

Melkor had begun to examine him by reaching between his legs. Instead of a proudly erect cock like his own, his fingers glided over soft folds, wet from sweat and arousal alike. 

"So excited for me already. What a lovely little flame you are." 

He wasted no time taking what was his. Mairon cried out in feigned anguish when he was penetrated in one swift thrust, speared on the Vala's cock as it tore into him mercilessly. Fortunately, his ever-faithful fána had prepared itself with sufficient lubrication and recognised his lover, eagerly taking him inside. 

Any pain he felt seemed like pure bliss to him. 

Melkor took him fast and hard, as if he was merely intending to quench his lust by using a helpless prisoner. The mere thought of being treated as such sent a powerful wave of arousal through Mairon, slick dripping all over the Vala's cock and down his legs. He was being used and possessed by a being mightier than he, one who would toy with him as he saw fit. His fána trembled with raw thrill. 

A large hand reached around him now, grasping his chin to turn his head. Obediently, he looked over his shoulder and opened his mouth when Melkor's thumb brushed demandingly against his bottom lip. 

"Suck," he ordered, pushing it inside, and Mairon did. 

Lips closing around the digit, his tongue caressed the pad of the thumb. He licked and sucked on it as if his life depended on it, imagining that he was servicing the Vala's cock instead. 

The effect of his eagerness and efforts was both powerful and immediate. Melkor came inside him with a low growl of satisfaction, filling him so thoroughly that seed spurted out of him and ran down his legs. 

Mairon glanced up at him, and his heart leapt with joy when he saw just how pleased he was. 

"I lied to you earlier," Melkor said then, his thumb pressing against his tongue to keep him from protesting. "I think I shall keep you here after all."

Thanks for reading! ♡

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