it's not personal

[missjadesfics]

A Hart on Fire

Clem Hart x Reader request: no gif credits: @loo-nuh-tik @halbrannatar divider credits: @adornedwithlight Summary: Y/n reminisces on her relationship with Clem Hart. Warnings: semi-smut, making out, slight!anger bursts, clem saves y/n from a drunk man, y/n is nervous and timid, brief!mood swing, conflicted feelings, y/n reveals something about her past, foul language is spoken, a mix of canon and non-canon clem hart Word Count: 3.2k Disclaimer: I don't own The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Jay and The Americans - This Magic Moment text in italics are flashbacks

I've seen the show, and I've recently started the book, so I can gather a better understanding of Clem and his character whilst seeing the changes in both the show and the book. Not wanting to stray too far and bend the rules for his character completely, but me being me, I try to provide a combination of both canon and non-canon for all readers to enjoy. Also, sorry, there is no smut plot in this fic; maybe the next one :)

DT: @catswonderland, as you are the first person that has expressed an interest in my writing for Clem, I dedicate this first piece of official writing of his character to you. And as far as I can see, I am also the first writer for him, which makes it even more special. Hope you enjoy <3

I also want to make clear I do not condone nor do I accept the doing and thought of abuse and domestic violence in any kind of relationship. Those in a situation, seek help if you can and remove yourself from said situation. And if the abuser is willing to receive help and try and create a better version of themselves so they can live a happier life with themselves and with their loved ones. Nothing is never impossible. Help is always near.

It was summer. The heat had grown to high temperatures during the day, making it unable to be outside. But when it was evening, it was cool, and the mix of warmth and cold would create a heavenly atmosphere. No matter where in Australia, you will find someone sitting on their verandah drinking beers and music would be playing. A party would indeed be happening. Though at one home, it was quiet, the cicadas trilled, and the fireflies danced in the sky as the sun began its descent. A young woman, Y/n, sat on her porch chair, swaying back and forth gently with the warm breeze kissing her face. Her eyes would flutter every now and then as she rested her head back on the cushion, listening to nature around her. Her eyes fell on him, and a smile appeared while she admired his figure walking to the house as his focus was drawn to her. Even in the darkened light, she would still see the brightness in his eyes. Y/n’s mind drifted back to when she first met him, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐭. 

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Now, you really wouldn’t say he was hers based on this first meeting, no more like a man who was rough around the edges and scared her off a little. At the same time, he demonstrates his slight heroic side. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” Y/n’s timid voice broke through the pub as the drunk man didn’t take no for an answer. His hands slipped down her body Y/n tried to push the man away, but it was no use. “Please leave me alone.” She pleaded. A voice broke and spoke up behind them. “She said she’s not interested, mate.” As the man turned around to speak, the sound of a fist colliding with the man’s face made Y/n flinch. Delivering a few harsh blows, the man spoke up, spit flying from his mouth as he glared at the harasser in anger. “If I catch you harassing her again, I’ll kill you myself. Got it?!” He shouted as Y/n eyed her saviour with a concerned gaze. His attention focused back on her while trying to steady his breathing, and he smiled slightly. “Are you alright, love?” He asked her; his voice was rough and thick, similar to his appearance—a long-sleeved cream shirt rolled at the elbows, light sweat built up on different sections of his body. And a scruffy but well-kept beard with that rugged charm —a true blue Australian.

Nodding her head she released a shaky breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “Thank you. I, um, let me pay for your drink; it’s the least I can do.” She offered whilst grabbing some money and putting it on the counter. “I should, um, probably go; it’s late, and I don’t want to attract any more unwanted attention.” She hopped off her barstool and slid past the man; as he watched her leave, his eyes narrowed, and he downed the rest of his beer and ran after her. “Hey! Hey, wait, I’m sorry if that was too much for you-” He began speaking as Y/n turned, a nervous laugh falling from her lips. “It’s okay, really. I, uh, I shouldn’t have been out in the first place. I know better.” She tried to reassure him as he shook his head, pointing inside. “That piece of shit in there had no right doing that. All night, he’d been eyeing you. He fucking deserved it.” Y/n blinked at the use of his foul language, and her timidness grew. 

And then it happened. It took me by surprise. I knew that you felt it too. By the look in your eyes.

“I’m Clem, Clem Hart.” He reached out with his hand. Y/n eyed it cautiously before slowly grasping his hand in hers and shaking it softly. Feeling the sparks she always read about in books ignite within their touch. Her eyes found his as her lips parted, a slight gasp filling the air between them. “I’m Y/n.” 

Y/n wasn’t sure if she wanted to see Clem again after their first meeting, though he saved her from perhaps being sexually assaulted. It was the way he leapt into violence to save her. Y/n was naturally timid and shy around people enough without having her first damsel in distress situation be tangled with a man who would save her by trying to knock a man unconscious. So to say, she was surprised to see Clem driving down the road past and then driving in toward her home. She grasped her apron and threw it away, washing her hands clean of her baking ingredients. Y/n felt a sense of fear and excitement fill her as she heard the rattling of her screen door being knocked on. “Be right there!” Her voice cracked with nervousness as she tried to steady her breathing. Approaching her door, she saw Clem standing there with his hand in his pocket. His charming smile and bright brown eyes radiated a warmth in which Y/n could easily lose herself in. She could see the danger lurking beneath the surface. The fear of getting too close in that she could easily drown. She had in the past too many times. She did not have a good history of choosing the right man to share her heart with. Her first interaction with Clem revived the familiar sense of dread within her. 

“Hi, love. Remember me the other night at the pub?” Clem’s gentle tone made her nod slowly as she opened the door standing in the gap. “Yes, I remember. Hi Clem.” She answered, her voice quiet and nervous. He could sense her uneasiness as he shuffled on his feet. Spinning back and forth on his feet, Clem laughed lightly. “I just want to apologise again. I have moments where I just…” He paused, his hand waving near his head, trying to think of the right word. “My temper is a little uncontrolled. I did not, nor do I ever mean any harm toward you. I just hated seeing him all over you like that. So, as a sorry gift, I was hoping I could take you out—maybe tonight? If you’d let me.” Y/n rubbed her arms; she met his eyes once again. She couldn’t remember looking away, but she must have. “Um. I was actually going to go stargazing at my favourite place. It’s a traditional thing that I do, but if that’s something you might be interested in, we can go together. I-i-if you’d like.” She stuttered slightly as Clem’s smile widened as he nodded, a gentle breath of relief fell from his body. “Yeah, no, sounds great. Um, what time should I come back?” Y/n looked over her shoulder at the clock ticking away; it was three in the afternoon. Was that really the time already? “How does seven work for you?” She asked, her smile brightening slightly. “Seven it is, love.”

Y/n scrambled around her room with her towel wrapped around her waist as she looked through her dresses. The spring air was warm, but the cool breeze offered some relief; thankful for the weather, Y/n found a simple lavender dress. It was one of her favourites, inspired by the 50s, and it brought her a smile when she first laid eyes on the garment. If you look inside her home, it is filled with anything vintage and old-fashioned that she adores, but there isn’t anything in her home that wasn’t from the eras of the 50s through to the 70s. Making sure her light makeup was applied right and her hair was straightened and brushed neatly.

Y/n smiled at her reflection before walking out and putting on her lavender flat shoes; she gazed at her clock, seven on the dot, just as she heard the car engine of Clem’s vehicle pull up. Switching off all the lights, Y/n walked out and locked her door as she turned around to meet Clem, who walked toward her with a small bouquet of native australian flowers in his hand. “Well, Y/n, don’t you look gorgeous on this fine evening.” He complimented Y/n, who blushed, avoiding his eyes as she looked at the flowers. A soft gasp escaped her as she admired them. “Clem, these are beautiful. I’ve never received flowers from any man before. I’m a little taken back.” She admitted as Clem frowned, his eyes studying her facial expression. “Well, obviously, the men in your past were dickheads. Pathetic, really.” The rough tone returned as Y/n looked at him with a nervous gaze.

“Sorry. I’ll uh try to be a suitable date tonight. Here, let me.” He led her around to the passenger side and opened the door for her as she climbed inside. Watching him close the door and walk around, Y/n quietly ran her fingers over the flower petals. “I’ve never seen these before. I’ve grown up in the outback but never came across these flowers.” She murmured as Clem smiled, reversing back as he turned to look at her briefly. “Well, lucky for you, I am a man who knows his flowers. Now, where am I headed?” He asked as Y/n gave him the directions; he followed her words and drove to their destination. Climbing out of the car, Clem noticed a lake up ahead as he grabbed an esky and picnic blanket from the back of his car and carried it. As he set up their sitting area, he watched Y/n move her fingers in the air, feeling the gum tree leaves blow in the evening wind. “You really are one with nature, aren’t ya?” He pointed out, resting his hands on his knees. Y/n turned around as she walked back and sat beside him. “My mum and dad owned a cattle farm in the middle of nowhere. I grew up surrounded by wildlife, and the beautiful and harsh weather came from the outback. It was only natural that I would be; I loved every moment of it. And my mum and dad were the best. Every day was an adventure with them. I do miss them.” Her voice wavered as she spoke about her parents. Clem sighed, looking around; his eyes changed from their brightness and went solemn. “Your childhood sounds…perfect. I wish I had that.” His eyes landed on the lake. “You were fortunate you had loving parents. There isn’t many.” Y/n stretched her hand out to his but curled her fingers back, resting it beside his. She looked at the black sky. A silence fell around them as they observed the stars sparkling for them. “So this is a tradition for you?” Clem asked, breaking the silence Y/n nodded with a smile.

This magic moment. So different and so new.

“On this day, the north star shines its brightest every year. I would always sneak out and find the perfect tree, climb up and gaze until it showed itself. I tried to do it with…others, but they never shared a liking. Couldn’t even pretend to.” Clem turned his head down to look at their hands, a smirk built on his lips as he moved closer. The edge of his fingers brushed hers. An uneven breath came from Y/n as she stared at him. Clem smiled; the light sparkle in his eyes made her heart race. “Don’t be afraid, love.” He leaned forward, the tip of his nose nudging hers with a gentle caress. Reaching up with his other hand, the roughness of his fingertips slipped over the softness of her cheek.

Was like any other. Until I kissed you.

“You’ve been kissed before, haven’t you?” He whispered as his lips skimmed hers, sending a shiver through her body. With a shy nod like cotton had filled her mouth, she was unable to form any words. Cradling her cheek, the anticipation hanging in the air grew; Y/n’s heart was beating violently; she thought that perhaps Clem could hear it. The throbbing in her ears made it hard for her to comprehend anything if Clem spoke to her. Slightly resting his head on hers, Clem’s lips found hers in a breath-stealing kiss. Y/n felt her body grow weightless; a small moan escaped suddenly, and all her nerves left her system. Feeling brave for once in her life, she welcomed the gesture of affection from a man. Whatever cautions she had about Clem Hart disappeared, only in that moment.

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Whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh. Magic, magic, magic

“You are lost in your thoughts again, love.” His voice broke through as she blinked rapidly; she gave him a shake of her head with a smirk dancing on her lips. “I was; they were about you, as a matter of fact.” She stated Clem grinned, stepping up the verandah with a grin resting his hip on the railing and crossing his arms. “Oh, what a lucky man I am. Even when I'm here, you still think about me in the past tense.” He gave a light laugh as he threw himself on the chair beside her, sweeping her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “So, where did you get to before I interrupted?” He asked her Y/n sighed lightly before finding his eyes and gazing at him. “Our first kiss.”

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It wasn’t until their three-month anniversary that Y/n witnessed the change in Clem. He had taken her to Thornfield, and it was a tense meeting. She could see the estranged relationship he had with his mother. Though Y/n was the kind-natured girl she was raised to be, she tried to diffuse the tension but unfortunately did no good. When June pulled her aside, warning her of Clem’s violent behaviour, Y/n’s caution came back; June explained his abusive nature and told her to place some distance between herself and Clem for her own good. The drive home was quiet, but Y/n could feel the anger radiating off Clem, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a murderous grip. When Y/n saw Clem driving to his home instead of hers, she frowned in confusion. “Clem? Honey, why are we at your home?” She raised her hand to touch his shoulder. Clem’s jaw clicked as he turned to face her. The darkness washed over his face as he released an unnerving but calm breath. “I realised I don’t have enough petrol to get to your place. Mine was closer.” He climbed out of the car as Y/n followed suit; when he noticed she was lingering back, he smiled—reaching out with his hand. “It’s alright, love. You don’t have to be afraid.” Taking his hand, she let him lead her inside. “Clem, do you need to talk about anything.” Clem rummaged through his drawers as if searching for something, mumbling to himself. When he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he grabbed a drawer and threw it across the room. The loud crash made Y/n jump. Clem’s heavy breathing filled the room as he slammed his fists down on the desk. “Fucking bitch! You know what, screw her. Don’t need her, don’t need any of it. I have you, love. That’s all that matters.” He breathed the sudden change back to his sweet self, making Y/n step back. 

Seeing her retreat, Clem walked toward her. “No, no, no. Please, please don’t leave.” Y/n shook her head, her back hitting the wall. “Your mother told me about your abusive side. She warned me that I should leave.” She whispered. Clem laughed, nodding. “Yeah, of course she did. I would never hurt you. I swear it—my sweet girl.” He murmured, holding her face in his hands, his touch making her eyes fall shut. “You never have to be afraid of me. I love you; you don’t hurt the people you love.” Y/n swept her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, pulling him closer. The atmosphere changes as the couple lock eyes, pressing her to the wall; Clem kissed her with a fierceness leaving her breathless. This kiss was different; this was…raw. Y/n’s legs were wrapped around his waist as he picked her up, pinning her hips to the wall with his palms. “I want to believe you.” She voiced between their kisses. Clem trailed his kisses along her neck. His pelvis ground into hers with a roughness that made her moan, her arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Her soft gasps and his heavy pants filled his living room. Clem moved his hands up her torso. 

Feeling the smooth skin under her shirt, Y/n was lost in her own desire; she didn’t care. Her bubbled nerves and warning signs were ignored. “I promise I’ll never hurt you.” He looked into her eyes, and Y/n could see the conflicted emotions swirling in the hazel gaze. Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing his cheek, and gave him a nod. “I’ll hold you to your promise. But the moment you turn back on your promise. I leave. And I won’t come back.” Clem swallowed heavily, a shaky breath escaping his trembling lips. Even though no words were spoken, the message and answer was clear. He will never hurt her.

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Sweeter than wine (sweeter than wine)

Softer than a summer night (softer than a summer night)

Everything I want to have (everything, everything)

Whenever I hold you tight

“And I have held that promise. You’ve accepted my past and what I went through with my mother. And you knew about me. And you’ve made me a better man for it. I don’t want to be someone who uses violence and abuse to get what they want. I had to break the cycle; I just needed someone to come along and show me the way.” The love in his voice made her heart flutter. Moving off her chair to sit in Clem’s lap, he welcomed her with a warm embrace, his fingers tracing her hands with heart shapes. “When you forgive, you in no way change the past - but you sure do change the future. That was something my father always used to say; he suffered, too, from my grandfather. I had seen him hit my mum a couple of times. They would fight too sometimes, and then one day, my father said enough after he accidentally hit me in a fit of anger. And that was it; he changed.” Clem brushed his thumb along the apple of her cheek, his eyes welled with tears. “You never told me that.” Y/n shook her head, resting it on his shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to hear it. It’s hard enough living your own trauma without hearing about someone else’s.” Clem kissed the crown of her head as they both watched the sun disappear behind the distant hills.

“Thanks, love.” Y/n hummed gently, her hand holding his. 

“For what, sweetheart?” She asked. “𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞.”

[missjadesfics]

His Wicked Game : Gil-Galad {V}

Sauron | Annatar x Gil-Galad Wife!Reader x Gil-Galad request: no gif credits: @lukaskyle @martanis (gifs aren't mine, please don't mistake them with the original owner) divider credits: @adornedwithlight @cafekitsune Summary: Gil-Galad rides to make one last attempt to win back his wife. Sauron makes a desperate last plea, and Y/n's heart reminds her who she truly loves. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, emotional reunion, fingering, illusion sex to piss off Gil-Galad, masturbation, dry humping, Y/n breaks free of Sauron's binds?, love declarations, use of magic, conflicted feelings, Sauron is desperate, pleading, cliffhanger??? Word Count: 1.9k Disclaimer: I don't own Rings of Power or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Imagine Dragons - Smoke and Mirrors

ick, i hope you all enjoy this, i wrote it at 4:30am this morning

I II III & IV Sauron ending

dt : @dinsbeskar @notreallythatlost @sansaorgana @justmasblack @ladyoflindon @louiselouve

All that I've known, buildings of stone. Fall to the ground without a sound. This is my word, heartbreaker, gatekeeper. I'm feeling far away, I'm feeling right there.

Gil-Galad kept staring at the letter, Sauron’s words hitting him like a dagger to his heart. He knew Y/n; he knew her like no one else in Middle-Earth. Their souls were intertwined, and their fates were bound together forever. His eyes gazed down at his wedding band reading the elvish inscription ‘Forever shall mín hearts n- er’ {Forever shall our hearts be one} It was their sacred wedding vow to each other. Running his fingers over the silver, the King’s eyes turned sad. Had he been at fault? Did he neglect her so much to drive her into the luring arms of Sauron? Does she even know? Did she leave on her own free will?

The racing questions in his mind continued to spiral as he blinked, crumbling the letter, eyes flickering to his side, and he saw the face of his herald with a concerned look. “High King. Please let Galadriel and I ride with you to Eregion. We do not know what traps have been set in preparation for your arrival.” Elrond called as Gil-Galad climbed onto his saddle, holding the reigns. “No. If I am to win back my beloved from the grasp of Sauron, I must do this on my own. Do not fear; I will return with our Queen.” He smiled, urging his horse to ride as Galadriel and Elrond stood side by side, watching their King ride out in pursuit of bringing back their beloved Queen of Lindon.

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I'm starting to cave, I'm losing my flame. I wanted your truth, but I wanted the pain. To disappear, dream maker, life taker.

Y/n breathed in the fresh air, her eyes falling closed, feeling the palms of Sauron’s hands caress her body, a small moan escaping her lips. “Your mind is still in two places, is it not? It would seem that he still occupies your heart, too.” Sauron’s eerily calm tone made her shudder his lips, finding her neck pining her to the balcony edge. “If I must keep proving to you how worthy I am over your pathetic excuse of a husband, so be it.” He breathed heavily, his hands spinning her around to face him Y/n gasped softly, her hands on his chest. “Annatar…” She whispered, Sauron’s lips capturing hers in a bruising kiss, silencing her words, sweeping up her dress skirt up her thigh. The back of his fingers brushed up her smooth skin teasingly before trailing between her legs. Feeling how wet she was through her undergarments, Sauron smirked into their kiss. Pulling away briefly to graze their lips, Y/n chased his as Sauron panted heavily, tearing the loose fabric from her body and plunging two fingers into her soaked cunt. Y/n threw her head back, looping an arm around his neck for support; his mouth found her neck biting down, gently marking her skin with lovebites. Thrusting in and out, the lewd sounds of her cunt sucking in his fingers greedily sent blood rushing down to his cock. Rutting against her leg, his desperation took over.

Sauron’s laboured breaths fanned over her cheek, and his green eyes focused on her parted lips and flushed cheeks. Her eyes opened to meet his, the shine in her irises mirroring his own. “Please do not leave me. If he comes for you, do not leave with him. Stay with me.” He pleaded Y/n’s heart shattered at his pleas, and her leg wrapped around his torso, the grip of her hands on his shoulders tightened. “Annatar…” She moaned, her walls beginning to clench around his fingers. Sauron’s brows creased, resting his head on Y/n’s, his thumb rolling over her swollen pearl, pulling her close. 

Sauron let out a pained moan as he rutted his hips harder, their breaths mixing with each passing moment, their peaks growing closer. “Y/n, my sweet, I’m afraid I cannot hold back any longer…” Sauron groaned as Y/n cried out, arching her back as she came on his fingers, her body shaking from the aftershocks of pleasure rippling through. Sauron bared his teeth as he let out a growl, his hips jolting unevenly as he stilled and came in his pants. Their faint pants filled the air as Sauron slowly removed his fingers, the pads glistening with her arousal. Y/n’s eyes fluttered, watching Sauron suck off her release of his fingertips; the sight made her lick her lips. Smirking, Sauron cupped her cheek and kissed her passionately, their tongues skimming each other’s—the lingering taste of wine and her arousal filling each other’s senses. “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞” Sauron’s voice deepened the hint of Halbrand’s accent weaving through. Y/n ran her hands down his chest, her nose bumping his affectionately. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her inside. The distant galloping of hooves rang through his ears as Sauron’s green eyes gleamed with delight at Gil-Galad’s arrival. 

Gil-Galad stormed into the forge, pushing the doors apart with force. “Where is the Queen? I know she is here!” He shouted; the elven smiths pointed to Annatar’s room as Gil-Galad demanded everyone leave the forge as he readied his sword. Hearing the muffled moans from behind the door, Gil-Galad listened to the familiar cry of Y/n’s voice. “Sauron!” Opening the door, seeing Y/n’s writhing body on the bed underneath Sauron as he fucked her; looking up, Sauron grinned, leaning down to whisper in Y/n’s ear. “It seems we have become neglectful hosts, my sweet. Our guest has arrived, and we didn’t even welcome him properly.” A dark laugh emitted from his lips as Y/n’s eyes followed Sauron’s gaze and fell on Gil-Galad. The High King’s eyes grew sharp as he witnessed the obscene position his enemy had his wife in. “Cease this act now, sorcerer! And allow me the pleasure of running my blade across your throat. Though not before I remove that vile tongue of yours.” Aiming the end of his blade at Sauron’s throat, the deceiver grinned; the illusion around Gil-Galad faded as the King circled around Sauron’s voice, filling the air in the forge. “You have truly risked the probability of you leaving with your heart shattered, High King.” Gil-Galad's eyes flickered around, searching for the dark lord. “I must tell you, our Queen, I’ve grown quite attached to her. I indeed see now what it was that lured you in. Do you remember what it’s like…to feel her cunt swallow every inch of your cock. To revel in how wet she gets even just by a few words, she is a begging mess in no time.” His sultry voice drew closer.

Gil-Galad snarled, letting out a grunt. “Show yourself!” He shouted. “Gil-Galad?” Y/n called out; the High King’s shoulder dropped at hearing her sweet voice spinning on his heels. A soft breath fell from the King before raising his sword. “No, this is a trick.” Y/n’s eyes dropped as her brows creased, shaking her head. “My King, it’s me.” She whispered, Gil-Galad shaking his head and fighting back his tears. “Prove it.” Y/n nodded, removing her wedding ring and holding it up in her fingers. “When Celebrimbor forged our rings, we asked to have our sacred vow inscribed inside. ‘Forever shall our hearts be one.’ You said the moment you saw me at our first meeting, your heart had never raced so fast. That was the moment you fell in love with me.” Gil-Galad slowly lowered his sword, his hand reaching out for Y/n. She walked toward him, her palm sliding into his, and the familiar touch made her heart flutter. “I am here; it is me.” She murmured for only him to hear. Gil-Galad felt his eyes glitter with love, his fingers trailing along her cheek. “This man is not who you think he is. My love, he is Sauron. He has lured you to his side with false promises. Whatever he has told you, it is not true.” Y/n blinked, and her breathing grew shaky as she wrapped her arms around her husband. Holding her close, Gil-Galad raised his sword, seeing Sauron appear from the shadows. 

All I believe, is it a dream. That comes crashing down on me? All that I hope, is it just smoke and mirrors?

“You lied to me! You are no emissary of the Valar. You tricked me.” Y/n’s lips trembled. Sauron’s lips parted, a tear escaping as it fell down his cheek. “I never tricked you, nor did I want to lie. I was afraid you would leave. I’ve searched so long for you, not knowing I was until I saw you in the gardens that day. You stole my heart, and it pained me that I could not have you. We were made for each other; you cannot deny it. He holds you in a cage; I can allow you to be free. I know you crave the darkness inside you. It’s what binds you to me while you bind me to the light. I love you, Y/n, for every part of my being. I do not want to be parted from you. Do not leave me.” He reached out, opening his palm, a golden ring shining Y/n eyed the ring in Sauron’s hand, meeting his gaze. Her heart and mind fought each other as she felt the pull between choosing Gil-Galad and Sauron. Listening to her heart, she turned to look at her husband. Sauron’s face fell, knowing she had not chosen him. His glare hardened as he swallowed thickly. Gil-Galad breathed a sigh of relief as he kissed Y/n’s lips; Sauron clenched his hand around the ring, his body shaking with rage. Y/n looked to Sauron, her eyes brimming with tears approaching. Sauron slowly saw the dark lord’s eyes darken as he glared at Gil-Galad. Softening when he looked at Y/n. “Have I not…” He released a shuddered breath, unable to finish his sentence. He raised his hand, a pained smile appearing on his face. “You have her for now, High King. I shall let you leave with her.” He nodded as Gil-Galad pulled Y/n back to him. Sauron tilted his head slightly. “But I want to caution you; your happiness will not last. You see, the road goes ever winding.” Using his magic, he flicked his wrist as Y/n and Gil-Galad disappeared from the forge. 

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The King and Queen stood in their chambers as they embraced one another tightly, falling to their knees. “You have returned to me. You are here.” He cried, holding her face in his hands Y/n nodded; she, too, began crying before remembering some news she had received a few days ago. “Husband, there is something I want to tell you.” She smiled as Gil-Galad frowned, his eyes following her hands as they rested over her stomach. “I’m with child; it is yours, I’m sure of it.” Gil-Galad smiled through his tears, kissing his wife’s lips in a breath-stealing kiss. “My love, you have made me the happiest man in all of Middle-Earth. We must host a celebration; this is a joyous day!” He grinned, picking her up in his arms and spinning her around. Their laughter filled the room; everything was as it should be. Even if the moment was fleeting, Gil-Galad may have won back his Queen temporarily, but the dark lord’s words lingered in their minds—𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

[thyras]

→ of sauron & the moriquendi masterlist

PAIRING → mairon | halbrand | annatar | sauron x female!elf!reader

SERIES WARNINGS → 18+ mdni - smut, fated soulmates, curses, character death, mind manipulation, love at first sight, brief redemption arcs

SUMMARY → since the breaking of the first silence mairon has carried a great yearning, one he knows not why he is burden with, but the very song of his fëa longs to sing with his harmony, and thus begins the story of sauron and his moriquendi bride.

ao3 link

→ parts 🔥 - smut

in the beginning - since the breaking of the first silence mairon has carried a great yearning, one he knows not why he is burden with, but the very song of his fëa longs to sing with his harmony. of creation & devotion - years pass, and mairon settles into his new life while you yearn for what may never come to pass. of the moon & stars 🔥 - you and mairon finally complete your weaving and share in the most sacred ceremonies with your people. unknowing of the darkness that now stirs. of the shadows - the shadow has come for mairon, and he will do anything to get him back into his clutches. of new beginnings 🔥 - after the fall of your city and beleriand, you build a friendship with a certain elf by what seems like chance and over the centuries he welcomes you into his counsel. though your fëa grows restless as your wayward husband seems to grow in the shadows.

BONUS PARTS

of sauron's regrets 🔥 - after the fall of laureandor, sauron spends a moment with his past life but not before getting retribution for his past self. for he regrets many things, but that day he regrets still lingers in the very core of his being.

[missjadesfics]

Lilac & Berries (II)

Halbrand | Annatar | Sauron x Mage!Reader request: no gif credits: @calirph @ohno-elrond (gifs aren't mine; please don't mistake them with the original owner) divider credits: @enchanthings @cafekitsune (mdni : colours my changes) Summary: Sauron and Y/n begin a passionate affair whilst planning their future in Middle-Earth. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Y/n is similar to Yennefer of Vengerbeg, dry humping, public displays of affection, make-out, mentions of throne sex, talks of Sauron's past, slight!conflicted feelings, flirting, talks of Galadriel having feelings for Sauron, Y/n teases Galadriel, Y/n is described as having violet eyes & dark brunette hair Word Count: 3.7k Disclaimer: I don't own Rings of Power or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Miracle of Sound, Karliene - Lilac & Violet

this part was toned down slightly than what i originally wrote, I'm saving the spicy action for the next part <3

part I

sdt : @dinsbeskar @notreallythatlost @sansaorgana @halbrannatar <3

Powers volatile Lightning awakes in a rising storm The doors to hope and ascension Creak apart

“​​Natura meum audit vocationem Iubes ut faciam voluntatem meam” Y/n’s enchantment came to life, expanding over the dying flora. “That’s it. Come back, rebloom once again.” She encouraged with a bright smile. Sauron watched as he leaned on the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes filled with wonder as the birds tweeted louder at the sound of Y/n’s voice; the animals seemed more vibrant around her presence. “You have a way with creatures, it would seem. Is that something all mages have in common, or are you special?” He smirked Y/n glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Creatures of all natures and sizes seem drawn to my nurturing side. Unfortunately not all mages share such ability.” She paused briefly before continuing. “So, A King of the Southlands is whom she believes you to be? The elf, of course.” Y/n’s fingers moved over a tree, her lilac energy flowing from her fingertips. Sauron sighed, pushing himself from the door and strolling toward her, his hands on her hips, pulling her to his chest. “Her own pride blinds her. But she is determined; I’ll give her that—I admire determination; it’s a unique trait. I simply must let her do what I need her to do. It is an opening for me to, I do not know…” His voice trailed off.

Sensing the quietness from him was unusual, Y/n turned to face him, and she could feel the turmoil within his soul. He was fighting himself in the shadow of his former selves. Y/n rested a hand over his heart; meeting his gaze, she gave him a warm smile. “Whatever your uncertainty is, whatever you decide, you have me at your side if you wish me to be.” She cradled his jaw between her fingers and kissed his lips; Sauron swept Y/n in his arms and pinned her beneath him amongst the grass, and a giggle tumbled from her lips. “How fortuitous am I to be graced with a woman such as you? How can I express my gratitude?” He breathed heavily, his lips coming in contact with her neck Y/n sighed, her back arched into his touch. “Mmm, I can think of a way.” She purred; the violet in her eyes shimmered as she parted her legs. Sauron raised a brow at her suggestion, a cunning smirk formed on his lips. Raking his fingers through his hair, he slid down her body. Kissing behind her knees and trailing down her thighs, he looked up to meet her gaze. “How could I deny you, little temptress.” His head disappearing between her legs.

.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧

Mixing her herbs and murmuring her spells, Y/n heard a knock on her cottage door. “It is open; you may enter.” She called out her fingers, waved over her potion bottles, reading each label, and looked for the needed ingredients. “Welcome to my home, Lady Galadriel; how may I be of service?” Y/n sensed the elf as she walked past the threshold, glancing from her potion bottles. “I have seen you and Halbrand have become quite acquainted with one another.” Her voice, filled with concern and curiosity, the choice of words made Y/n grin, and a laugh fell from her lips, pouring her liquids into her pot. She and Galadriel’s eyes meet, and Y/n narrows hers with a slight head tilt. 

“Has he been talking to you about me?” She leant forward, her tone playful, shaking her head and putting a finger to her lips. “I am not a kiss-and-tell kind of woman, but if Halbrand has divulged our 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 if you will. Then-” She began as Galadriel cut her off with a stern tone. “You have become a distraction. Halbrand is the lost King of the Southlands; his people need him, and you are making it impossible for him to want to leave. I know what mages are capable of. If you only plan on using him for your amusement, cease it.” Y/n paused her movements and walked around her table, approaching the elf with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, do I sense 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭? Perhaps you hold some affection for him; does he know?” She questioned her fingers, tapping her lips. Galadriel held her ground before Y/n, not giving anything away, but Y/n knew. She could feel the stirring emotions inside Galadriel. “Hmm, perhaps you do. Perhaps you do not. But you care for him, no?” She leant forward, her finger trailing Galdriel’s jaw, a slight pout formed on Y/n’s lips. “It’s a pity; if I had a thing for women, I would have liked to have a taste.”

Galadriel’s eyes flickered at the mage’s words, suddenly flushed. Tilting her chin up to keep herself firm, Y/n giggled. “Unfortunately, my love for men is unmatched. I can’t help but be drawn in by their strength, at times daring nature to compete with one another. Especially when they fight over me, it’s captivating. The lengths that some men But I do love 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨...” Y/n paused, her eyes closing; a moan fell from her lips, letting her head roll back as her lashes fluttered open. “𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞.” She finished biting her bottom lip and saw Galadriel falter slightly. Y/n's eyes looked her up and down. “Oh, have I perhaps sent your little mind wandering, dear elf? I suppose I could make an exception if you’d like to sample what Halbrand has the delight of having; I’m sure he won’t mind sharing. He does not seem like the possessive type.” Her teases made Galadriel grow even more flustered; the elf shook her head, and Y/n giggled. “Aww, I’m sorry; I can get a little carried away with my teasing; it’s always been a fault of mine. I do mean no harm at the end of it all.” She admitted with a mock sad face, resuming making her potions.

“So, you would like me to stop being a distraction? Exactly how do you plan on prohibiting Halbrand from seeing me?” She pondered aloud, crushing the herbs in a bowl and whispering her enchantments. “He will listen to you if you tell him to keep his distance. And to regain his focus on helping the Southlands.” Galadriel’s choice of words made Y/n stifle a laugh; the mage gave a deep sigh. “You do not truly understand the will of men. They will do whatever their greedy hearts desire; a woman, elf or human cannot do anything about that. Not even I, a mage, can control or divert a man’s impulses. Let alone Lord Halbrand’s. He is free to do whatever and 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬. And you know how valuable my kind is in the courts of men and elves alike. How do we not know Lord Halbrand would not require me in such circumstances?” Y/n smirked, the ruby shining from the gloss of her wet tongue licking her lips. Galadriel’s eyes hardened at the mage sitting across from her. 

“You are…” She began when the door opened, revealing Halbrand’s figure Y/n rested her chin on her palm “Lord Halbrand, what a splendid surprise. How lucky am I? I am graced with both of Númenor’s finest guests. In my humble home, no less.” She gasped, her eyes glittering from the sun's rays coming through the door. Sauron grinned, his eyes darkening at her excitement before his eyes fell on Galadriel. “It appears I have interrupted. I can always come-” Y/n stood up and placed a hand on her hip. She smiled. “You will do no such thing; Lady Galadriel was just speaking about you. She fears I’ve become a bit of a distraction for you, so she kindly asked if I would cease all contact with you during your remaining time here. And I believe…” She eyed the elf and sighed in mock defeat, resting a hand over her chest. “She could be right. I do not want to lure you away from your rightful duties as King of the Southlands. I am but a mage; what right do I have to be such a burden on you.” She told Sauron, who looked between the two women standing before him, then he nodded, rocking his head from side to side and pretending to weigh his options.

“Yes, I suppose you are right, but it does pain me that I will be leaving an exceptionally beautous piece of Númenor behind me.” He walked right up to Y/n and kissed her lips in front of Galadriel. The elf rolled her eyes with an audible sigh before rethinking her words. Perhaps he was approaching the situation wrong. Y/n was a mage; therefore, she knew about Morgoth. Her power was of ancient magic, and she could help rid Middle-Earth of Sauron. “Your kind knew of Morgoth’s power, did they not?” The lovers broke their kiss; their heads turned to Galadriel; Y/n gave a pained smile. “Many of my sisters gave their lives and devotion to Morgoth. However, their loyalty to him was what he craved for his plans and his tortuous ways. They did his bidding. And Morgoth himself tried to recruit me, but his power could not reach me here in Númenor.” Galadriel leaned on the table, and her eyes grew hard. “And so did Sauron, and I believe he will do so again. Unless we can trust you enough to help us.” Y/n clicked her tongue, waving her ringed finger. “Uh uh, you did not want me to burden 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, and now you request that I help you? Why the sudden change of heart, dear elf?” She questioned, and silence fell in the cottage before Sauron cleared his throat. “Perhaps Galadriel is trying to assess your character. Mages are arduous.” He smirked Y/n stood still, pursing her lips. “Arudous?” She questioned, spinning around to face her guests with her hands on her hips. “Yes, arduous. You know, difficult, challenging-” Sauron tried to elaborate as Y/n slapped his arm with a pointed look. “I know what it means!” She snapped with a playful glare, sighing, and her eyes fell back on Galadriel. “If you would like me to accompany you to Middle-Earth to rid of you, this Sauron. Then it seems fate has played her cards: your coming to Númenor was more than just a tide change, it would seem.” She winked.

.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧

In the shards of the broken mirror Many faces are shorn In the agony I have Been reborn

“Have you ever been on a ship before, mage?” Galadriel questioned, standing beside Y/n at the head of the ship Y/n hummed in reply. “Once, many moons ago, when I came here to flee…from something.” The quietness of her voice filled the night air as it fell short. Galadriel’s eyes softened, sadness washing over her; she had been so busy trying to remain stubborn and cold to the mage that she didn’t even think about what she had lost. “I am truly sorry for the loss of your sisters. How many lost their lives?” Sincerity flowed through, easing the mage’s hard exterior Y/n gave a sad smile. “Too many to count; I did not support their choice in siding with Morgoth, but they were my sisters, and I loved them. I grew up with them; we were all young mages learning the ways of our magic. I possess a rare kind of magic, a key that opens to the embodiment of chaos. Where the dark magic lies. I have only had to use it once, a long time ago, to banish…a vile being. But he rose once again, even stronger and unleashed his wrath upon all of Middle-Earth with his lieutenant in tow. Their minds were reaching out to find mine and lure me to their side.” Sauron was listening from afar, his back pressed to the wooden plank hiding behind so he could not be seen. His heart clenched when he heard Y/n talk about her sisters; he remembered them and how they would kneel and linger on every false promise Morgoth gave them. His gut twisted at the memories of Morgoth’s torture if they did not do precisely what he asked. The marks on their flesh were enough to tell him what his master had done. A God could do whatever he liked, even if it meant breaking and bending one’s soul into nothing. The all too familiar flashbacks bearing too much pain for him, he closed his eyes and released a deep breath. Clearing his mind of the foul past, Sauron left the ship's deck just as Y/n sensed someone was overhearing the conversation. Feeling Sauron’s lingering presence, Y/n bid goodnight to Galadriel for the night; they would arrive in Middle-Earth at dawn. The idea of walking upon the very ground she once knew sent an uneasy chill through her body. It’s been far too long since a Mage’s power had been felt once she would set her feet on the ground. All would awaken to greet her: those of good and those of evil.

Hearing the door to Y/n’s cabin open and close, Sauron lay on his back, his eyes staring at the ceiling. A gentle sigh fell from the mage’s lips as she approached him, her fingers trailing his arm. “Your troubled, what ails you, my darling?” She swept her leg over his waist, straddling his lap. His eyes fell from the ceiling and focused on her face. His hands smoothed over her hips, his thumbs creating crescent shapes. His eyes were brimming with tears, his lips trembling, and he released a shaky breath. “I only wish to express my remorse for what happened to your sisters. They hung on to every word he gave them; I wish I could have done something. Stopped him from hurting them, their cries of pain. I can still hear them. He would torture them as punishment for not carrying out his orders correctly. Sometimes, he would just use them for his own amusement. For his sick, twisted games. Y/n I feel responsible for not helping them when I could’ve. When I should’ve.” Y/n trailed her fingers along Sauron’s cheek; leaning into her loving touch, she smiled through her own tears. “You never need to apologise to me for my sisters’ fates. I know you suffered at his hand also; I could feel the pain coming from your soul, being stripped and bared into nothing by his power. What a mage must endure is bearing the suffering and sorrow of others around her. I felt their pain, too, but yours called out to me. I tried to ease you but was unsure if my magic reached you. But you can be at ease now; I am here. And he is long gone, just a shadow of the past.” She whispered, leaning down to connect their lips. Deep and filled with emotion, Sauron slid his hands up her thighs, exposing them to his eyesight. Sweeping her underneath him, Sauron situated himself between her parted thighs, rubbing himself against her. Their moans filled her cabin as Sauron rutted his hips wildly, seeking to relieve the fueled desire residing inside him. 

“I did feel you; it comforted me even if I was unaware of who it was aiding me. I hated him speaking about you and all the things he would do. I wanted to kill him myself for speaking of you in such repulsive ways. But now I do not have to worry; he’s gone, and I will give you anything you desire. I’ll give you a crown forged with the most beautiful jewels. And a throne…” He moaned, kissing her neck Y/n arched her back, a choked sob falling from her lips. “Yes!” She gripped his arms, hoisting her leg around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Every waking moment, 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮. However, you want me to. A King’s duty is to his Queen first. I’ll 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 beneath me, 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩. I do not care if our subjects entered the room while I pleasured you. Hmm, would you like that, 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬? To be claimed by 𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠?” He grunted, his blunt nails digging into her thigh as he rolled his hips faster Y/n gasped sharply; the violet in her eyes became luminous as she nodded. “Yes, I want nothing more than to be yours. It’s my heart’s desire.” She moaned, their lips brushing before colliding in a passionate kiss, bracing his palm against the timber wall. Sauron growled into the kiss. The thumping of their muffled, lascivious behaviour could be heard if anyone dared to walk past. Knowing well of the entangled passions the ‘mortal king’ and the mage shared, it was best that if anyone wanted to spare themselves the embarrassment of hearing, they would try their best to avoid it.

Y/n slipped her hands underneath Sauron’s shirt, feeling the coarse chest hair under her fingertips. Sauron’s grip on her thigh tightened the mix of pain and pleasure coursing through her Y/n’s body began to tense as she threw her head back. “Sauron-” She breathed, kissing the column of her throat. He pushed himself slightly further up her body, grinding harder, his release threatening to spill over as he rested his head on Y/n’s. “Gods be true cannot wait to feel you around my cock, Y/n. My sweet temptress.” He laughed darkly; his words sent her over the edge as she cried out; their bodies stilled, their laboured breaths mixing. Staring into each other’s eyes, Y/n giggled as Sauron peppered kisses over her face and neck. Tangling her fingers in his hair, earning a soft moan from the dark sorcerer. “I look forward to it, my king. Good things come to those who wait.” She kissed his shoulder, and the muffle of his voice rumbled into her neck. “Indeed they do.” 

Y/n couldn’t see the danger looming when the ships arrived in Middle-Earth—sensing dark energy when she stepped foot on the earth beneath her. Sauron and Galadriel could see Y/n’s hesitation to walk further. “Is everything well? Do you need a respite?” Sauron’s voice whispering in her ear eased her fears, and she shook her head. Y/n smiled. “No, it will just take some time for me to readjust to life on Middle-Earth; it’s been far too long since my presence has been felt here.” She walked ahead, familiarising herself once again with her old homeland. But the peace would not last; as Sauron and Galadriel returned from their battle against their common enemy, fire and ash stormed toward them, and everyone fled in terror, Y/n’s eyes, trying to find Sauron. Becoming separated, Y/n couldn’t remember falling to the ground. The last thing she saw was a soldier burning before her as she slipped into unconsciousness.

.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧

Awaking in unfamiliar surroundings, Y/n’s violet eyes adjusted to the light coming through the window. Slowly raising herself from the bed, Y/n noticed a beautiful, elegant lilac dress hanging on the wall. Running her fingers over the card, a smile appeared on her face. “A lilac dress for my flower - S” Assessing herself in the mirror, faded bruises and cuts decorated her skin. Murmuring a small incantation, she ran her fingers over the scars as they soon disappeared. Changing into her new dress, Y/n wandered down some stairs, hearing Sauron's familiar voice. His eyes found hers as he admired her new dress, and his lips curved into a seductive smirk. “Beautiful.” His lips moved, a soft blush appeared on her cheeks, and another voice spoke up enthusiastically. “Ah, Lady Y/n! What an honour it is to be in your presence.” An older elf bowed deeply and fell on one knee, holding Y/n’s hand and kissing it gingerly. “Oh, you are too gracious, my lord…?” She paused as the elf laughed nervously, suddenly becoming embarrassed; Sauron walked forward. “This is the great Lord Celebrimbor. I’m sure you’ve heard of his remarkable craft.” Y/n’s eyes shined at the name Celebrimbor. “Not the Celebrimbor of House Fëanor? It is such an honour. So this must be Eregion; I apologise. I have been here once many moons ago; it’s been far too long since I’ve seen the beautiful city. All the elven cities, I have missed them.” Y/n expressed her eyes dancing around Celebrimbor’s forge with bewilderment. “It has been so long since a mage has been here. You’ve been dearly missed, Lady Y/n.” Gazing over her shoulder, a solemn expression on her face. “I do ask for forgiveness for my leave. For as long as…those who lived remained here. I could not. Too many lives were taken; mine could not be among them.” Celebrimbor nodded a heavy sigh, sitting in his chair, his hands folded in his lap. “It is my pleasure and honour to have you here in Eregion. Halbrand has been generous enough to impart some wisdom to me about his time as a smith. Though I’m afraid such wisdom is too late, it cannot help save the elves now.” Y/n’s ears perked up at the mention of saving the elven race. “Save the Elves? Whatever for?” She questioned Celebrimbor, who looked between Y/n and Sauron. A sombre expression appeared on his face. “It would appear in your extended absence, my lady. And without a mage’s guidance and power, the elves' time has come to pass.” The sound of galloping hooves echoed through the courtyard as the High Elven King and his herald Elrond entered the forge accompanied by Galadriel. 

As Y/n’s eyes found the familiar face of Gil-Galad, she bowed deeply, her lashes fluttering up as she gave a sultry look as his eyes narrowed, a sour expression written on his face through a forced smile. “High King, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.” 

part III coming soon

[missjadesfics]

Against the Wall

Halbrand | Sauron x Reader request: no gif credits: @ringsofpowersource (gifs aren't mine, please don't mistake them with the original owner) divider credit: @cafekitsune Warnings: Y/n and Sauron can't help but delve into their desires for each other, even in a public place. Summary: 18+, MDNI, wall sex, outdoor sex, slight!manhandling, slight!rough sex, public sex, making out, black speech spoke during sex, Word Count: 1.6k Disclaimer: I don't own Rings of Power or its characters nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Avicii - Addicted To You

Welcome to Day 10 of MissJadesfics KinkMas/Smutmas/Fluffmas 2024! On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me. Public outdoor sex w/ Sauron | Halbrand

dt @dinsbeskar @notreallythatlost @sansaorgana <3

Swore I'd never fall in love again But I fell hard Guess I should have seen it coming Caught me by surprise Wasn't looking where I was going I fell into your eyes

Númenor. An island ripe for opportunity and seeking a fresh start. Sauron and Y/n, upon their arrival, were immediately fascinated with the simple life of working hard and reaping the day's rewards while observing the struggles and triumphs it brought. Drawn to the blacksmith, Sauron paused his steps, watching them forge weaponry and everyday items for people to use. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You miss the blacksmith back home, don’t you?” She whispered, her hands slipping up his chest and his hands covering hers affectionately. “More than you know.” He replied, turning to look down at the familiar eyes he had grown fond of for so many centuries. “Come, let us see if we can find somewhere for you to begin your work for time here.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand still holding hers. The markets were vibrant and busy; the couple took in each merchant with piqued interest.

Sauron leant down slightly to whisper in her ear. “Perhaps we can find something within eyesight; that way, you can watch me slave away at the blacksmith.” He gave a cheeky grin. Y/n only giggled in response before shaking her head and resting her hand over his heart. “More so, admire you craft and forge whilst doing what makes your heart sing. There is still a part of the old Mairon in there. He’s never far.” She kissed his cheek, the roughness of his beard tickling her skin. As she pulled away, Sauron brought her back and kissed her, a surprised gasp falling from her. Breaking apart, Y/n quickly looked around with a blush on her cheeks, hiding her face in Sauron’s chest; he chuckled and kissed her head. “Do not fret, my love. I’m sure the people of Númenor are not unaware of such acts between a man and a woman.” He brushed his thumb along her bottom lip Y/n looked into the sea-green eyes that belonged to Halbrand. Though it was just a form stolen and claimed for his own, it was another man’s eyes looking at her. But it was still Sauron’s gaze. The penetrating flicker of power and lust coursing through that sent shivers through her body. 

I'm addicted to you Hooked on your love Like a powerful drug I can't get enough of Lost in your eyes Drowning in blue

The unspoken words between them spoke louder volumes than what they could voice to each other. Sauron’s hand held on to Y/n’s tightly as they walked through the various outer alleys of Númenor. In a darkened area, Sauron pinned her to the wall, his rough palms pulling and grasping every inch of her dress and exposed skin he could access. Y/n moaned at the desperate touch, threading her fingers in his chocolate locks and pulling him in for a fierce kiss, their tongues tangling in a clash of dominance. Parting her legs, Sauron slotted himself in between and draped them over his waist. “Sauron…” She spoke his name in a hushed moan. With heated kisses, Sauron attacked her neck and the column of her throat, marking her skin—𝐫𝐞-𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦.

Now for all of Númenor to see. “Even la uluk the koh we brus been apart, izub prok dal sends shivers tuk latob olkurz ” {Even after all the time we have been apart, my touch still sends shivers through your body.} Y/n sighed at the sound of her beloved’s native tongue. Pulling him closer breathing in the scent of smoke and metal lingering in his skin. “Latob prok kul the tug ash izub olkurz will parhor recognise.  Izg brishzel nargzab asgaja else” {Your touch is the only one my body will ever recognise. I would want nothing else.} Sauron grinned, his fingers tracing her jaw and nudging the bridge of his nose against Y/n’s.

“It fills izub hun sha happiness u khlaar lat ghashn those words” {It fills my heart with happiness to hear you say those words} Y/n mirrored his grin, both sets of eyes sparkling with love as they stared at one another. Rutting his hips, Sauron bared his teeth; his grip on her thighs tightened, and Y/n’s lips grazed over Sauron’s. A shaky breath escaped her. “Sauron, would you not prefer we were somewhere more private?” Her voice's mix of fear and excitement earned a laugh from the dark sorcerer covering her body with his. “Just focus on me, nothing else.” He murmured in her ear, his hand sweeping up her thigh, exposing her bare skin, gripping the material in the ball of his fist and tearing it. Y/n clutched her arms around her dark lord, feeling his hands and lips litter her body with bruises and marks. Letting her head fall back against the stone wall and succumbing to waves of pleasure coursing through, allowing Sauron to do whatever he pleased. Though he wished he could tear the corset of her dress off her, he knew very well he couldn’t let any commoner look upon her with their filthy eyes. Y/n was his. So, he would have to make do with keeping as much of her clothing on as he could; he would grace himself with the sight of her naked body later in the privacy of their chambers. But for now, he needed to feel her around him, feeling himself grow insane and driven with lust to take her against a stone wall. Such an act shouldn’t be done in the possible public eye, but the idea of it being wrong sent a thrill of excitement through Sauron’s veins. He’d dare anyone to deny him right now. If that were the case, he’d surely burn the whole of Númenor.

Y/n tugged at Sauron’s pants, their mouths meeting in a sloppy kiss. Sauron used one hand to pin both of Y/n’s above her head, the other working to unbuckle his belt. Sauron lined himself with her wet entrance, holding her hip firmly to the wall; he plunged into her with one hard thrust of his hips. The force knocks the wind out of Y/n’s chest, and a strangled moan fills their kiss. Sauron’s tongue swiped along Y/n’s bottom lip; his hand swept along her stomach up her chest, cupping her breast that threatened to spill from the top. Thank you, seamstress. Sauron thought, feeling her back arch off the wall into his chest, her hands wanting to be freed from his hold. Sauron took pity and released his hold. Her arms found purchase on his shoulders, gripping the linen, wishing she could feel his heated skin beneath her fingers. One hand remained on the back of his shoulder; the other found its way into his hair. Sauron moaned, feeling his lover’s fingers rake and grip his brunette locks; it was a weakness she had found in him very early into their relationship. He loved it and wouldn’t dare try and fight it. “Sauron.” Her whimper bled his name; the drive of his cock and the harsh snapping of his hips colliding with hers made her shiver. “Akh, izub prakhum? ghashn izish, what kramp lat bolkum?” {Yes, my love? Tell me, what do you need?} His voice was thick and hoarse, and his ocean eyes turned feral; the intense gaze made her shudder. “I need it harder, please. Want you to ravage me.” She begged him, tears brimming in her eyes; the sweet plea made Sauron’s heart flutter. Licking his lips, Sauron pressed his body firmly against hers, leaving no space between them. “If that is what you wish, who am I to deny you, my lady.” He growled, his thrusts turning erratic every inch of his cock filled her to the brim. Her lips parted, a series of broken moans and shattered cries tumbling from her lips. 

I couldn't live without you now Oh, I know I'd go insane I wouldn't last one night alone, baby I couldn't stand the pain I'm addicted to you

Sauron's brows furrowed in concentration, a thin layer of sweat decorating his hairline as he pounded into her roughly, just like she asked him to. “Lat marr izish zatal ghurn.  Made for izish. Dhuzud narmok izg was made for lat” {You take me so well. Made for me. Just like I was made for you.} Sauron breathed, his lips brushing hers, his cheek resting upon hers. Her dress bunched at her waist, her legs hoisted up further Sauron’s torso for him to drive deeper in her at a new angle. Feeling her walls clench and start to flutter around him, Sauron knew she was close, continuing to build his thrusts, chasing his peak, which soon grew uneven and stuttered as he stared into Y/n’s eyes. The lovers' laboured breaths filled the small alley as they both moaned loudly. Their climaxes crashed over them. Sauron captured her lip, swallowing each other’s sounds as he gave slow, shallow thrusts, riding out their highs Y/n’s legs quivered from the aftershocks. When everything went still, Sauron released a heavy breath, resting his head on Y/n’s. Their tender smiles and glittering eyes met in a post-sex-hazed gaze. Y/n ran her fingers through his hair, gently trailing along his cheek and lips. Sauron kissed the pads of her fingertips, his tongue sweeping out to lick each finger with soft strokes. Kissing along her palm, his ocean eyes returned to their original shade, the brightness making Y/n’s heart melt. “Izg prakhum lat, izub mabrotnosh” {I love you, my Queen.} Sauron’s husky voice rumbled, a wicked grin forming on his perfect lips. Y/n replicated his facial expression before uttering back in a delicate whisper. “Izg prakhum lat, izub king” {I love you, my King.} 

[missjadesfics]

Runaway

Annatar | Sauron x Elf!Reader request: no gif credits: @flymarlo (gifs aren't mine, please don't mistake them with the original owner) divider credits: @arcielee Summary: Sauron could sense Y/n was pulling away from him; he couldn't allow that. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, established relationship, slight!possessive sauron, corruption, he does love her just in his own evil way, Y/n knows Sauron's true identity, conflicted feelings, use of magic, yearning, mentions of y/n trying multiple escapes, outdoor sex, sweet talking, mentions of Sauron's past, binding through sex Word Count: 2.3k Disclaimer: I don't own Rings of Power or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by INXS - Never Tear Us Apart (slowed and reverb) trust me

I really felt I poured a lot more into this fic, than my previous ones. but nonetheless, I am so proud of myself and it's Sauron, so he deserves the best <3

sdt: @dinsbeskar & @notreallythatlost <3

The night air hung heavy with secrets, and as she stood at the edge of the small lake, a single thought consumed her: love could be as treacherous as the dark waters below. Her eyes cast down the brimming tears forming loomed near her lashes. A teardrop fell down her cheek and dripped to the lake’s surface. The moon cast a bright light, illuminating the surface, where shadows danced just beyond her reach. It was here, in this desolate place, that she felt the pull of a heart that had both saved and damned her. Unable to move from her position, she braced herself only for what she did not know. Whether it was to be the cold water beneath or his shadows to claim the darkness beginning to consume her soul, involuntarily, she moved one of her feet off the edge of the rocks and began to walk into the freezing depths. Hearing the cries of the people in Eregion as the battle raged on, the embers of fire moving to the onyx sky. Y/n began to cry, feeling her heart grow overwhelmed with emotions. Becoming brave, Y/n looks back once more, then takes a deep breath, running into the water. It would be unfortunate that she wouldn’t get far before feeling a hand wrap around her arm. Spinning, she was met with his green eyes glowing from the moonlight.

Filled with fury and worry, he pulled her back forcefully to his chest. “No!” She fought in his grip, twisting herself free, grasping her dress; she let out a scream at the cold water hitting her chest. Hearing the water splash behind her, two strong arms wrapped around her, carrying her over his shoulder; she kicked her legs, her fists colliding with his back. “Put me down! PUT. ME. DOWN. NOW!” She lashed out in anger, his arms pulling her off his back and pressing her to a crumbled wall on a cliff. There, he stood before her.

A perfect image of beauty; she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him — 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫 or so she was told. Silk golden hair and deep pools of jade eyes glistened brightly from the distant burning fires roaring amongst the burning city of Eregion. Fighting her feelings, she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words that were shouting in her mind—the truth. Bracing his body against hers, trapping her between him and the stone, their lips ghosting over each other. “You know.” Y/n could hear the awareness in his voice Y/n’s lips parted, hesitation filling her. Fingers brushing along her cheek, a smile formed on his facial features. “It makes sense why you have been distant, your constant tries of escaping. You overheard something you should not have.” Y/n remained silent, not daring to speak, afraid of her voice faltering if she tried. “I admit I never wanted you to find out my true identity. I know you’ve grown 𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫.” Sauron murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Sliding his hand up her thigh, Y/n tried to push him off her; the dark lord raised a brow, his head tilted to the side as he pressed himself harder to her.

Y/n felt his stiff cock in his pants wedged between her parted legs. Wriggling under his hold, Sauron grunted, his lip curling into a snarl. “You fear what will become of you if you let in the darkness. But I can show you the wonders of what awaits you by my side. As my Queen.” He breathed heavily. Y/n shook her head, a tear cascading down her cheek, and leaned in to lick the tear away. “You lied to me. You played me for a fool. You deciever! You cruel monster!” She sobbed, feeling weak; she couldn’t bring herself to fight him; she wanted to, but her body denied her—𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫. “Your darkness… it’s suffocating.” Sauron rutted his hips with a shallow thrust Y/n whimpered her hands, finding purchase on his shoulders. “You’ve always been drawn to it, my love. Just embrace it. Embrace me.” The desperate plea in his voice made her melt.

Don't ask me. What you know is true Don't have to tell you. I love your precious heart

The shadows danced among the gnarled trees, their twisted branches reaching out to grasp any unsuspecting victim crossing their path. Sauron’s voice lulled her into a trance, like a siren's song. “You must let go of your inhibitions, your fears. Only then can you truly see the beauty of what lies beneath.” His voice was like velvet, smooth and intoxicating, causing her resolve to waver. As it always did. This time, Y/n didn’t have it in her to deny Sauron her heart's true desires anymore. She was tired of the running; she knew this endless game of push and pull would never end. Perhaps the darkness wouldn’t be as terrifying if she gave in to him. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. “What if I lose myself?”

Sauron smirked as he cupped her face in his hands, his touch igniting a fire within her. “Then let me show you.” Their lips met in a rush of passion, a collision of desires that sent shockwaves through her body. Y/n melted against him, the world around them fading into a blur of stars and shadows. His mouth moved against hers with a desperation mirrored her own, fingers threading through her hair, pulling her closer as if to fuse their very beings together. “Ahh,” She moaned into the kiss, a sound of surrender and longing. His taste was intoxicating, a mixture of dark magic and something else—something primal that called to the depths of her soul. Hal deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with fervor, a dark hunger that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. “You feel it, don’t you?” He whispered against her lips, his breath hot and urgent. “The power that flows between us.”

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding. She began to feel the overwhelming radiation of Sauron’s darkness pool into her through their heated kiss. With a flick of his wrist, the air around them pulsed, and suddenly, they were enveloped in his warmth. The ruin of Eregion faded from their sight, and the only thing consuming them was one another. The tension was unmistakable, weaving around them like an invisible thread. Y/n felt the weight of his words, the promise of something forbidden sparking a fire within her. 

I, I was standing You were there. Two worlds collided. And they could never tear us apart

Despite the doubt flooding her mind, Sauron pulled her closer, surrendering to the moment Y/n found herself letting go of the fears that had held her back from committing to him —𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠. Shadows wrapped around them like a veil, separating them from the outer world and allowing them to revel in their darkest needs. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.” Y/n’s voice was trembling with vulnerability. “Neither have I.” Sauron replied with a thick moan, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “You’ve awakened something within me that I thought long dead. A part of myself that I believed had been cast aside.” Y/n pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for the truth behind his words. “What do you mean?” 

“I was once a man of light.” He confessed, the glittering of light in his eyes brightening. “I sinned, and for that, I was cast out, but you…you bring a spark back to my existence.” He smiled, a mix of darkness and light, and pulled her back into the kiss, their bodies moving in perfect harmony against the backdrop of the moonlight. The world around them faded into nothingness, and in that moment, they became lost in each other—a storm of passion and longing that threatened to consume them whole.

The roughness of the stone wall dug into Y/n’s back, creating a mix of pain and pleasure to flood through her body. Hoisting her legs around his waist, Sauron laid her on the earth beneath them, discarding her undergarments and tearing her dress skirts. As their kiss deepened, Sauron’s hands roamed over her body, exploring the curves of her body. Longing to feel his bare skin against his once again, Y/n gasped, arching into his touch, feeling the heat radiate between them. “Please-” Y/n began, but Hal silenced her with another kiss, this time more urgent, more desperate. “Shh, my love, just feel. Let me take care of you. Allow me to worship you.” He growled, his body’s heat waving over her Y/n grew wet between her legs. Sauron cupped her jaw. “I will mark every part of you until all you crave is me. Our souls are entwined forever, and no other but I will ever lay a hand upon your precious flesh. You are mine. I am yours. A King is nothing without his Queen.” His voice was filled with aggression, his gaze darkened, a mix of desire and something deeper flickering in his eyes. Sauron’s hands explored her body, igniting sparks wherever they touched. “You’re exquisite.” He whispered, his breath hot against her skin. “I want to savour every moment. However, I am sure we will have many opportunities in the future. To explore our lustful appetites.” Y/n gasped as he captured her mouth again, their bodies moving in a fevered rhythm, the world outside forgotten as they became lost in their own passions.

We could live. For a thousand years But if I hurt you. I'd make wine from your tears

The moonlight bathed them in a silvery glow, the forest's shadows playing around them as they embraced the darkness within. Y/n felt alive; every nerve ignited, and every heartbeat reminded her how far she had fallen into his spell—and 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. “That is it, my beloved. Let yourself fall. I’ll be there to catch you; I’ll always catch you.” He promised as he rid himself of his pants, pulling them down to his legs. Y/n’s heart raced, sitting up to remove his silver armour. His black cloak followed closely behind, unlacing her corset strands with teasing movements. Y/n dug her fingers into the soft grass underneath her; the caress of Sauron’s lips on her semi-exposed chest made her heart flutter. “Just imagine.” His voice was low and enticing, filled with allure, the very allure that made feel forbidden feelings.

“What we will achieve together. Side by side. An empowered force that no one can come between. 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.” He wrapped her legs around his waist, entering her in one fluid motion. A sharp gasp emitted from her parted lips. Sauron’s jaw went slack, her wet cavern encasing his cock greedily. Rutting his body, a broken moan tumbled from the deceiver, his fingers tangling with Y/n’s on either side of her head. “Promise me you will not try to escape me anymore. Promise you’ll never leave me.” He panted his breath, fanning her face Y/n stared into the deep pools; nodding wordlessly, she pulled him in for another kiss. Their tongues clash in a dance of dominance, neither wanting to give in. Raking her fingers through his golden hair, careful not to ruin his bow, Y/n tugged the roots gently, earning a growl in response, a harsh drive of his hips colliding with hers. The head of his cock hit her sweet spot roughly. Sauron kissed Y/n’s neck, leaving his marks over her beautiful flesh. 

“Oh gods, Sa-” Y/n began, her voice catching in her throat. Sauron delivered a shallow thrust, and a grin formed on his lips. “Say it, I want to hear you moan my real name, how it will fall from those delectable lips of yours.” The seductive purr made her shudder. “𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐧” She moaned. Sauron beamed, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, driving his hips harder, pushing her legs higher up his torso. Sauron rested his head upon hers, his lips moving inaudibly. Y/n’s eyes were glued to his pouted lips, and he was trying to read what he was saying. His gaze met hers, a grin on his face.

“Sauron, bind us.” She pleaded, desperation evident in her voice and her eyes glittering from the moon. Sauron smirked, nudging his nose along hers. “If that is what you wish, then we can will it. We will be bound forever—𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭. I will make sure of it. 𝐌𝐲 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧.” Y/n felt her heart flutter at his words, her arms draped over his shoulders, her legs beginning to quiver, her peak bubbling and threatening to spill over. “I want nothing more, 𝐌𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠.” Sauron snarled as Y/n’s walls clenched around him, her moans and cries of his name like prayer as she came around him.

A high-pitched gasp fell from her mouth as Sauron followed closely behind fucking her through her peak as he roared, finishing inside her and laying himself on top of her. Their bodies pressed together, leaving no gaps between them. Sauron’s uneven rolls of his hips against hers, riding out their climaxes, their laboured breaths filling the night air. The lovers smiled at one another. Sauron trailed his fingers along her hairline, his knuckles delicately brushing her cheek. His thumb swiped her bottom lip, Y/n’s tongue darting out to lick the pad. The smile on his face broadened. The darkness in his eyes turned the once-green irises into pools of black. The veins emerging underneath his eyes made Y/n shiver, his true form coming forth. Y/n pushed him off her and straddled his waist, her hands falling on his chest to brace herself. The moon's glow illuminated his Queen, and a dazed expression appeared on the dark lord’s face. “Show me. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” She breathed her voice barely a whisper.

I (don't ask me) I was standing (you know it's true) Mm, you were there (worlds collided) Two worlds collided (we're shining through) And they could never tear us apart

[missjadesfics]

Lilac & Berries (I)

Halbrand | Annatar | Sauron x Mage!Reader request: no gif credits: @winterswake @martanis (gifs aren't mine; please don't mistake them with the original owner) divider credits: @enchanthings @cafekitsune (mdni : colours my changes) Summary: Sauron meets a mage named Y/n when he arrives in Númenor; he becomes enraptured and obsessed with her, and their paths align. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Y/n is similar to Yennefer of Vengerbeg, oral (f receiving), dry humping, public displays of affection, fingering, telepathy, Y/n and Sauron fall in love at first sight, flirting, Y/n knows he's Sauron, but plays along, Y/n is described as having violet eyes & dark brunette hair. Word Count: 3.4k Disclaimer: I don't own Rings of Power or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Miracle of Sound, Karliene - Lilac & Violet

sdt : @dinsbeskar @notreallythatlost @sansaorgana <3

Part II coming soon

Lilac flowers. And berries where we lie

Behind these violet eyes. A fire. No price or power

Can ever satisfy. Behind these violet eyes. A fire

On the island of Númenor, where shadows stretched long, and whispers floated on the wind, Y/n, a powerful mage, wandered through the forest of Andustar. She moved like a breeze, light and graceful. The trees, ancient and knowing, watched her with silent eyes. Y/n was a powerful mage; she had a heart full of light. Her laughter could brighten the gloomiest day. She was renowned for her ethereal beauty and, at times, unpredictable nature. Her long auburn hair shimmered in silver moonlight yet glowed like a halo in the sun’s bathing light. And her violet eyes held the light of a thousand stars. Stories of the famed sorceress reached the lands of Middle-Earth. Many of men and elves sought to have her in their court, though Y/n did not want to accompany herself with petty matters, Kings and jealous hearts fawning and fighting over her. Though the story of her did reach Morgoth and his lieutenant Sauron, seeking to have such a spirited and fierce woman by his side, Morgoth tried to use all forces of his will to bend her and bring her to him. But her place in Númenor was too far from his reach. 

Though such ambition did not dim in his lieutenant, Sauron was determined to achieve what his master could not.

Though his powers were vast, they came with a heavy price. Once full of hope, his heart had turned cold in pursuing his own strength. When the tides turned in his favour, Sauron's path collided with Galadriel, an elf who sought to destroy Sauron. Assuming the identity of Halbrand, a Southlander fleeing the ruin of Orcs in his homeland, the two were found by a Númenorean ship and brought before Tar-Míriel, the Queen Regnant. Y/n was often sought for council by the Queen Regnant, so when Sauron’s eyes fell upon Y/n’s figure walking through the hall encircling them and descended the stairs, her violet irises locked with his ocean ones, a smirk playing on her lips. Turning to face the Queen, she curtsied gracefully, her lilac dress decorated with silver beading and satin hugging her hourglass figure perfectly. Sauron admired the mage with a sparkle in his eyes, noticing a small hair bow in the corner of his lips, tugging into a smile.

“Apologises for my late arrival, Queen Regnant. I see we have company.” Tar-Míriel nodded, motioning for her to observe them Y/n spun round, facing Sauron and Galadriel with a tilt of her head, her pouted lips parting, a smile forming across her face. “An elf” She walked toward them, pausing in front of Galadriel and then stopping in front of Sauron. “But you...” Her fingers ghosted over his shoulder, his eyes watching her hand trail along from one shoulder across his chest and up his throat. The pads of her fingers gently caressed his jaw. “Hmm, how mesmerising you are.” A light laugh came from her ruby-painted lips, and her eyes flickered back to Galadriel. “And do we know these wondrous visitors' names?” She questioned with a raised brow. “Galadriel of Noldor.” Her voice held authority; she was definitely a leader. Y/n nodded. “Galadriel, yes, I’ve heard of you. Commander to the High Elven King Gil-Galad. What an honour to have you.” Then, turning to Sauron, her eyes glittered, waiting to hear his name. “Halbrand of the Southlands.” Y/n’s eyes roamed over his figure, sensing something lingering within him; playing along with his charade, Y/n smiled. “A pleasure 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝. Lady Galadriel.” Sweeping her dress to face the Queen Regnant, Y/n released a breath. “I see no ill intentions in either of our guests, Your Majesty. I believe they are genuine.” Y/n expressed the Queen was happy with Y/n’s observation and nodded, agreeing to allow them to stay for a few days til they decide on what to do concerning their guests. Y/n bowed her head, leaving the council, her eyes locking with Sauron’s before leaving. As everyone parted ways, Sauron found himself wandering in the same footsteps Y/n took, seeing her in the markets purchasing some herbs. Children were playing around her, and the melodic laughter from her lips made Sauron smile. Swirling her fingers in a wave motion, she cast a spell of various coloured miniature fireworks surrounding the children, all squealing in delight. Feeling Sauron’s eyes on her, Y/n gazed over her shoulder, walking toward him, holding her basket over her arm. “Are you following me, Lord Halbrand?” She posed her question with a teasing smirk. Sauron grinned, shaking his head. “I did not mean to, though you certainly made an impression.” Y/n angled her head back, giggling, the violet in her eyes shimmering. “Well, I am pleased I did.” Turning on her heel, Sauron followed her through the markets as Y/n approached the forest edge. Her hand smoothed over the trunks of the trees, murmuring a spell unknown to him; he watched with curiosity. “They miss me when I am away, even for brief periods.” Y/n’s silvery voice reached his ears like the finest tunes of music tugging at his heart. 

“What brings you to Númenor, 𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐧?” She asked. Walking through the forest, his brows furrowed at her question. Unable to answer, she spoke up once again.“Did you think I did not know? I sensed your power the moment you arrived on the island. It’s heavy, filled with danger and chaos. But that is not how Eru himself created you.” Sauron found himself following her through the trees, his eyes cast down upon hearing the mention of Eru. Y/n didn’t have to look at him to notice the change within him. “That is a sensitive topic of discussion.” He answered eventually; Y/n laughed in response, flipping her hair as she looked over her shoulder. “Oh…” She leant against a tree, pursing her lips and her eyes squinting slightly. “Does that bother you? Knowing that your creator made you as he believed you to be.” She circled him, her hand brushing over his chest and her voice speaking lowly in his ear.

“Good and noble. Someone who thrived on the love of perfection.” Standing before him, Sauron watched with careful eyes; his lips twitched Y/n smirked, her tongue peeking between her teeth. Raking her fingers through his brunette tousles of hair. “But then his greatest downfall would be when he followed Melkor. I heard he is no longer with us; what a pity.” She spoke sarcastically, bringing a grin to Sauron’s face. Y/n mirrored his expression, admiring his handsome features. “What a smile you have; it will have all the girls of Númenor swooning in no time. If that is something you hope to pursue in your time here.” She winked at him. Sauron reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush to his chest. “I am not unfamiliar with your kind, mage. I know your tricks and games.” He breathed hot and heavy Y/n angled her head to face him. Their noses nudging in a gentle, affectionate manner, she found herself captivated by the intensity of his gaze.

"Though I am quite tempted to find myself drawn into 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬." His voice was like velvet, smooth and intoxicating, causing her self-restraint to tremble. The air thickening with sexual tension, the mage and dark lord feeling the magnetic pull between them. "You know the stories of me, what I have done. Yet here you are. Unbothered by the darkness that resides within me." Y/n leant forward, her lips ghosting over his, a seductive tone swirling in her voice. "Perhaps I am drawn to darkness." She replied. "Or maybe I am just curious about what lies beyond the stories. Beyond the name of Sauron. What lingers in his true heart” Saruon’s lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of something dangerous beneath his charms. “You can’t help but feel something, a connection between us. I was brought here not just from my own design. But because you need me.” His eyes cast down, tilting his head slightly with a knowing smile; Y/n felt her pulse quicken as he leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking; she could feel his warmth radiating into her body. "What do you mean?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Sauron chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with something deep within her. "I believe we can show each other things that will make our hearts race, things that will make us forget the world we know." Their eyes glinting with mischief, and for a fleeting moment, they saw something more—an invitation wrapped in temptation. Sauron brushed his fingers over her cheek. The allure of the unknown tugged at her, and she wanted nothing more than to lean into that darkness—𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧.·。.·°✧° .·。.·✧

Y/n found that during her visits to the city of Númenor, her feet would take her immediately to wherever she felt Sauron’s presence. Sitting outside a tavern, eating clams and drinking ale, Y/n approached the barkeep. Sauron’s eyes landed on her, a smirk building on his lips. “Miss Y/n! Welcome back; what will it be?” The man exclaimed with a wide grin Y/n told him her drink, making her way over to where Sauron was sitting. “Lord Halbrand, may I join you?” Sauron raised his brow, offering the seat beside him. Y/n took the seat, eyeing the men and glaring at Sauron.

“You are not favoured right now, it would seem.” She motioned toward the men. Sauron looked out the corner of his eye with a nod. “Yes, it would appear so, but they cannot keep their mouths closed when speaking about others within earshot.” Y/n thanked the barkeep as he sat down her drink. “What brings a pretty mage into the city today? If you need some male comfort, you won’t get much from this low man. You would be best looking for a man of better breedin’ love.” One of the men sat across from Y/n, and his grin made her feel sick to her stomach.

Giving him a sickly sweet smile in return. “Hmm, as tempting as your offer seems, my dear gentleman, I do prefer my men not of Numenorean blood.” She edged closer to Sauron, fingers running along his toned shoulder and down his arm. “There is just something so 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 about them. Unfortunately, I have seen all of what the men here have to offer women, and it’s not enough to keep me entertained.” Y/n wrapped her arms around Sauron’s arm; the man scoffed in amusement. “Oh, you’ve already fucked the mage. Have you low man, you take our food. Our hospitality, and now you stake your claim on her. What have you got to make her get on her knees for you?” He laughed loudly with the other men Y/n’s eyes flickered to meet Sauron’s intense gaze.

“A decent pair of manners, for one. And…” She positioned herself on his lap, draping her arms over his shoulders. Sauron played along, his hot breath fanning over her cheek, his lips caressing the skin teasingly. And proceeded down to kiss her neck Y/n threw her head back, fingers tangling in his chocolate locks. “His mouth is absolutely heavenly. Something I fear you all lack.” She moaned. Sauron’s hand moved up her back, bringing her to his chest. Their eyes both fell on the man, fury burning in his eyes. Y/n giggled when he scraped the chair and walked away. Y/n rested her head on Sauron’s, their lips brushing her tongue and darting out to lick his bottom lip. “I must attend a council meeting with the Queen. Do not get into too much trouble, Halbrand.” She whispered in his ear; a broken moan escaped the dark lord giving an experimental roll of her hips before swinging her leg over his body and downing her drink Y/n winked at Sauron, his hand lightly slapping her ass, a soft gasp emitting from the mage’s lips he winked back going back to eating his clams. Y/n walked to the palace, eager to be on time for the council meeting.

“Halbrand has been thrown into the cells. He was found in a tavern brawl. Perhaps you could speak to the guards.” Galadriel spoke as Y/n read through different scrolls; sighing heavily, she followed Galadriel to the cells where Sauron sat inside, a grin forming when he saw Y/n approach him. “I thought I asked you to stay out of trouble. What happened?” She asked him; leaning on the bars, Sauron shrugged his shoulders. “There was a dispute about a woman. 𝐀 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.” He approached the cell door, his voice dripping with lust Y/n hummed, her lashes fluttering. “Mmm, and this woman must be worth being thrown into a cell for then, it would seem.” She laughed. Sauron nodded, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Oh, so very worth it.” Y/n looked behind her, pursing her lips. “I shall see what I can do, but I cannot guarantee the Queen will let you out.” She promised to leave Sauron in the cells to speak with the Queen, and though she was successful, Sauron was placed under warning by the guards. Y/n offered for him to stay with her in her cottage away from the city if he so wished. When Y/n showed him her cottage away from the city, Sauron felt the tranquil beauty surrounding him. Y/n told him that when she was not in the city, she would spend her days tending to the enchanted garden, nurturing delicate flowers, and singing to the woodland creatures. “The trees whisper hidden secrets amongst each other; only I have been given the gift of hearing them. Although they do not mind, they immensely enjoy telling me their mysteries and sometimes riddles.” Leading Sauron inside her cottage, the walls decorated with lilac flowers. “You sure adore the colour lilac, don’t you?” He teased her Y/n rolled her eyes, preparing some tea for herself. “When I was born, my colour chose me. It becomes the very source of energy for our magic. Our colour symbolises who we are. What we are. How we are connected to our magic.” She explained, her fingers waving in the air, swirling of lilac magic weaving through her fingers.

Sauron’s hand reached out for hers, tracing her palm with his rough fingertips. “And what does lilac symbolise?” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion, a shaky breath emitted from Y/n’s parted lips. A seductive smile appeared, straddling his lap, his hands sliding up her body. “It symbolises the joy of youth, the innocence of love, and the purity of emotion. It represents first love and a flower you give during a courtship.” She breathed. Sauron cupped her cheek in his palm, his breath mingling with hers. “And if such a man was worthy of giving such a delicate flower to you. What must he do to prove his worth?” He murmured Y/n’s violet eyes glowing with desire; rolling her hips, a moan fell from her lips. “A kiss.” She answered. Sauron captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his arms wrapping around her upper back and laid her on the table, sweeping off her potion bottles and papers. Rutting his hips into hers, the burning fire between them growing hotter. A moan bubbled in Y/n’s throat as it filled their kiss. “𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐧.” She arched her back off the table, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging the roots, earning a groan from the sorcerer above her. His mouth attacked her neck with feverish kisses, decorating her skin with love bites. “I was correct; your mouth is heavenly.” Y/n praised him, moving away from her neck. Sauron chuckled, his nose caressed hers, their lips meeting in a softer kiss. “My mouth is capable of much more pleasure than just painting your skin with marks, temptress.” His eyes swimming with an urgent need, Y/n raked her hands up and down his body; her eyes glowed brightly before resuming their original shade, spreading her legs for him, his eyes cast down, licking his lips teasingly. He gripped her dress in his fists. “Show me the wonders of your mouth, Dark Lord.” Sauron tore her dress. A sharp gasp left her swollen lips, watching Sauron fall to his knees, running his hands over her hips to hold her down. Noticing she was wearing nothing underneath her dress, Sauron swallowed heavily, his eyes shining at her bare cunt glistening before his eyes. Tangling one of her hands in his hair, Sauron’s tongue coming in contact with her aching core, Y/n moaned, falling back onto her elbow to hold herself upright. Sauron’s hands ran over her thighs and waist, feasting on her dripping cunt with an untamed determination to taste every inch and crevice of her sweet arousal coating his lips and tongue. Moaning helplessly, Sauron felt himself break down into the weakest form of man. “Sauron!” Y/n gasped, rolling her hips, riding his face, her other hand coming into contact with his hair. “You taste of the most lavish of berries and finest honey. A sweetness to quench my thirst.” His voice invaded her mind, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her core through her body. “Gods! Please!” She cried out. Sauron flattened his tongue, licking a broad stroke from her entrance to her swollen pearl, repeating the movement thrice more with the addition of two of his fingers entering her made her jolt. 

Writhing underneath the dark sorcerer, Y/n’s moans and screams filled her cottage. Sauron’s lewd sounds lapping at her cunt, sending chills to ripple down her spine. Curling his finger in a come-hitcher motion, Y/n wailed, her body curved into his touch. Feeling her legs begin to shake, her impending climax threatening to spill, Sauron slowed his movements, teasing her Y/n gripped the table in one of her hands, holding herself steady. “Do you want to come, little temptress? Drown me in your delectable nectar. Only for me.” He encouraged her, his eyes meeting hers, the intense gaze sending her over the edge as she came around his fingers.

Sauron moaned lowly, suffocating himself between her thighs, hungrily devouring every ounce of her. Removing his fingers, he sucked each one slowly, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s. His lips and chin gleamed with her arousal. Between his laboured breaths, Sauron’s lips stretched into a beautiful smile. “I believe I may become quite addicted to your taste, my love.” He pulled her back onto his lap as he sat in his chair Y/n threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back. Clashing their mouths together, Y/n rolled her hips roughly, their moans filling each other’s mouths as Y/n felt his cock harden in his pants. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, Y/n flipped her hair back. Sauron’s eyes were mesmerised by her body rocking to help him find a release. Sauron groaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily, his eyes closed shut, bucking his hips upwards Y/n gasped, the contact of his pants creating a delicious friction against her bare cunt. Her wetness leaked onto Sauron’s lap, not that he cared. “Fuck, you sweet temptress. I cannot wait to feel you around my cock; going to ruin you for any other man. You are mine now, mage. You hear me.” He grunted, his lips curling into a snarl Y/n moaned with a nod of her head, unable to form any words, a shattered moan emitting from him as Y/n felt her second peak wash over as she stilled on top of him. His hips stopped rutting as he moaned, his tight grip loosened as he cradled her face in his hands; their lips came in contact with a messy kiss, a mix of tongue and teeth clashing together, pulling apart for air as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“I look forward to seeing where this beautiful relationship shall take us, little temptress.” Sauron swiped his thumb along her bottom lip. A grin formed, their laughter filling her cottage. Y/n hummed, mirroring Sauron’s grin. “Hmm, I do wonder indeed. It seems our paths were destined to align.”

[missjadesfics]

Enclosed Spaces. Oh wow i'm speechless both parts are so beautiful and so delicious are you going to write a third part. *whispers* please say yes

i've been scrolling through this inbox without realising just how many of you i have left unanswered i feel terrible! Forgive me 😢 All parts of the series is all up and posted for you to read and enjoy <3

I II III IV

[missjadesfics]

His Wicked Game (III)

Sauron | Annatar x Gil-Galad Wife!Reader x King Gil-Galad request: no gif credits: @winterswake @letthefairyinyoufly divider credits: @arcielee Summary: Unable to resist Sauron's pull any longer, Y/n goes to Eregion. But she was greeted not by Halbrand but by another face. Gil-Galad learns some distressing news. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, small time jump, pregnancy signs, telepathy, Y/n and Sauron have sex for the first time, riding, oral (f receiving), mentions of masturbation, brief magic!sex, possessive!sauron, obsessive!sauron, binding through magic and a ring, love declarations?, talks of past events Word Count: 3.5k Disclaimer: I don't own Rings of Power or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Ariana Grande - Into You

dt : @dinsbeskar @notreallythatlost @ladyoflindon @justmasblack @louiselouve

Part I Part II

oof hope y'all like this as much as the previous chapters <3

Y/n had resisted his call for as long as she could. Riding to Eregion in the dead of night, she was welcomed at the gate. As her horse was put in the stables, Y/n entered Celebrimbor’s forge. She held her dress skirt while she ascended the stairs, hoping to see Lord Celebrimbor working. She was met with another when his presence did not greet her. “Do you know where I could find Lord Celebrimbor or Halbrand?” The man turned at the sound of her voice, and his green eyes widened as he saw Y/n standing before him. 𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. Though she admitted Halbrand was handsome in his own right, this stranger before her, well, he stole her breath away. This elf was—𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. If he spoke, Y/n didn’t hear him; she was too lost in him. She could see his body come closer toward her, but she didn’t move, nor did she have the courage to speak in his presence. “Y/n?” His velvety voice broke her trance; his fingers glided along her cheek.

Swallowing her lips parted, a nervous breath escaped her lips; the man grinned. “I must speak to-” She couldn’t finish her sentence, leaning into the stranger’s touch, feeling the familiar spell take over her body as she gazed into his eyes. “I knew you would come to me. I waited patiently, and now I have been rewarded.” He breathed Y/n and tilted her head, her eyes shining as she recognised the rough undertone of Halbrand’s voice falling from his lips. “Halbrand? I do not understand.” A light laugh left him as he shook his head gently. “My name is not Halbrand. My Queen, my true name is Annatar, and I am an emissary of the Valar—the Lord of Gifts.” He introduced himself. Y/n’s lips turned into a smile, and she admired Annatar, and her hands laid along his chest. “That is how I could be with you even when I was here. Our bond is sacred, and the Valar has chosen us to be one. Such pairings do not happen often; I understand you love your husband and King. But you must know my soul longs to be with you; my heart sings whenever it is near yours. Tell me you feel the same. You feel it too, don’t you? ” His voice was low and sultry; the words made Y/n’s heart skip a beat. “Yes. I do—more than anything.” She whispered, cradling her cheeks in his palms, a beautiful smile stretched across his handsome features. 

I'm so into you I can barely breathe And all I wanna do Is to fall in deep

“Then will you allow me to worship you? Drown you in endless pleasure? Give you anything your heart desires. Show you every ounce of my love for you.” He murmured, his hands sliding down her body and pulling her close, the allure of the unknown consuming her mind and heart. She had long forgotten her husband back in Lindon. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫. 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. For so long, she imagined his hands and lips on her body; the illusions he provided weren’t enough. “Show me, please.” She pleaded with him, her hands upon his, sliding them up her body. Sweeping her in his arms bridal style, he carried her to his private chambers, kicking the door closed.

Flicking his wrist, igniting the fire, the warm glow lighting up her eyes, the glittering irises staring at him with awe and love. Removing her robe from her body and discarding it to the floor beneath, Sauron’s eyes cast down to the swell of her breasts through her chemise. Silently, Y/n trailed her hands up his arms, feeling his muscles react to her touch; reaching his shoulders, her fingers moved to his jawline. Pausing to feel the softness of his flesh under her fingertips, he smiled allowing her to admire him. “Your true form is—𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠—𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬.” She expressed her hands, finding themselves threading through his golden hair. “I am relieved; this is all for you. I had hoped you would find it appealing.” Sauron answered, his hands too, exploring Y/n’s body; now the robe was gone, and he could see her through the thin material.

“Most appealing.” She replied, hoisting a leg around his waist, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Each other’s moans fill their mouths, unleashing the flood of emotions within them as their kiss deepens. Sauron’s tongue slips past her lips, exploring her wet cavern with fierce need, the lingering taste of sweet fruit and wine invading his senses. His hands brushed her thighs, guiding her back to the edge of the table. Working his way from her lips and down her neck, Sauron pushed the short chemise up her thighs, falling to his knees, and peppered kisses along her exposed skin, his tongue every now and then darting out to lick broad stripes tasting her. Y/n leant on her hands, watching him lavish her with his mouth. The pool of arousal was evident between her legs. Sauron rested his cheek against her thigh, a wolfish grin forming.

Oh, baby, look what you started The temperature's rising in here Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move (ooh, ooh) Before I make a move (ooh, ooh)

“May I?” He moved two fingers under her chemise; she nodded her head, breathing heavily as she anxiously wriggled in quiet desperation. Sauron ripped off her undergarments, spreading her legs wide for him as the glow of the fire shone her bare glistening cunt to his eyes. Smoothing his hands over her hips to hold her down, Sauron dived between Y/n and moaned loudly, curling her toes at the contact of his hot tongue swiping through her folds. His muffled moans sent travelling vibrations through her core, spreading throughout her body. “Oh gods, Annatar!” She raked her fingers through his hair, rocking her hips against his mouth Y/n’s body faltered as she lost balance, falling back onto her elbow.

“I have longed to taste you, my love. My imagination has not done you justice.” His voice broke through her mind, and gazing down, Y/n’s breath hitched, seeing Sauron’s eyes staring back at her. The intense shade of green made her shiver. Collapsing onto the table, Y/n arched her back, his hands forcing her back down, holding her in place. Sauron flattened his tongue, licking a broad stroke from her entrance to her swollen pearl, relishing in the sounds falling from her lips, a grin on his lips as he increased his pace. He’d be gentle this one time, but he won’t hold back the next. His ‘gentle’ nature will not always be present. Savouring and lapping at every inch and crevice of her cunt Sauron used his magic the dull pulse flowing from his fingers into her body caused her eyes to open wide. “Oh, what is-” She gasped, the stimulation coursing through her veins, making her writhe beneath the man between her legs. “Annatar!” She yelped at the feeling of his teeth grazing her clit, her other hand joining to tangle in between the silk threads of his luscious hair. “That’s it, my queen. Let me hear those beautiful sounds. Tell me how I make you feel.” The rich, luring tone coaxed her to use her voice. “Gods, your mouth…feels so good! I imagined you were there with me while I-” Her voice broke, a gentle slap hit her thigh, Sauron’s way of telling her to keep speaking. “While I pleasured myself.” She let out a sharp gasp, her legs starting shaking. Sauron growled, rising slightly; he pushed her legs further apart, spreading her wide. His hands ran underneath and cupped her ass, suffocating himself Y/n felt her body tense, the band in her lower abdomen threatening to snap as she whined, rolling her hips faster to reach her peak as Sauron grinned, moving one hand and spreading her open with two of his fingers teasing her entrance with the pad of his fingers tracing up to circle her clit the spikes of pleasure sending her over the edge. Sauron welcomed every drop of her arousal into his greedy mouth, pulling her closer if even possible. Slowing his movements to ease her through the after pleasure, Sauron pulled away, pressing a kiss to her pubic bone along her hips and leant over. Capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her toward him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Sauron carried her over to his bed. Not that he had ever slept in it, but he might explore the idea of sleep now that Y/n would be beside him. “Annatar…” She breathed his name between kisses.

Sauron hummed in response, pausing at the end of the bed. Y/n reached down to pull his shirt over his head, unlatching one arm at a time. Sauron effortlessly and singlehandedly removed his garment while holding Y/n in his grasp. Lying her on the bed, Y/n crawled back, her eyes dark with desire, Sauron’s gaze matching her own as he removed his pants Y/n rubbed her legs together, her eyes studying each careful move of Sauron’s hands. Smirking, Sauron stood before her, marvelling at his beauty. A shuddered breath left her parted lips as she noticed his hard cock. Sauron raised a brow following her gaze; he leaned down and softly grabbed her ankle and pulled her down slightly. A startled gasp fell from her lips, followed by a giggle; she reached for him. His heated flesh met her hands Y/n’s hands covered every inch of his torso. Feeling brave, Y/n pushed him onto his back, and a surprised moan escaped his mouth. His eyes were wide with amusement as he watched her unlace her chemise; his hands travelled up to catch the end of the material and push it over her head. Throwing the garment away, his chest rose and fell unevenly as he took in her bare body. Balancing herself on his chest, she gripped his hard cock. Sauron let out a choked moan at her hand, guiding him to her wet entrance.

So, baby, come light me up And maybe I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous But, baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you

Lowering herself down, sheathing himself fully inside her, they both groaned at the feeling. Adjusting to his large size, Y/n froze, her body tense. Sauron’s eyes softened as she looked down, and he nodded at her. “Whenever you are ready, my love. I’m patient.” He breathed. Y/n held onto his shoulders, her hips moving slowly. Sauron bucked his upward, making her gasp. Falling forward, Y/n moved faster. Sauron groaned, eyeing his cock sliding in and out of her. Y/n’s hair fell, framing her face as Sauron brushed the strands away. “Look at you, 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥. I’ve waited so long for this—𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” Y/n felt tears well in her eyes at his confession. Her heart fluttered at his words; something about him ignited a spark within her. Something she did not feel with Gil-Galad. The allure of the unknown residing with the man underneath drew her in like a moth to a flame. She was curious; she knew it was a dangerous game. But it’s a game she wanted to play nonetheless. She wanted this man, even if it was sinful to be with another man aside from your husband. All the promises Annatar had told her, what he would do. Worship her, love her, and give her anything she desires. She wanted it all —𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. Sauron raised himself, his arms securely wrapping her in his hold, his jaw slack, the warmth of her walls around him making his mind fuzzy with lust. “I want you, Annatar. I want all of what you promised me. I give myself to you. My heart is yours if you are who I am to truly be with. My soul, my body. I do not want to fight this anymore.” She moaned. Sauron's eyes widened at her willingness. “You have her. Your pathetic obsession has fallen for your deception. Now is the time to strike; if you think you have the stomach for it.” Morgoth laughed. Sauron rolled them over; his thrusts grew hard, his fingers linking with Y/n’s.

Her high-pitched moans and the sound of skin slapping skin echoed filled his room. “Then, if you want me, bind yourself to me. Be mine, and I will be yours. Seal our love. Tell me you will it, and I shall make it happen.” He panted heavily, and Y/n saw his eyes glitter with impending tears. Suddenly, she felt as if she had no control over herself; the stare from Sauron’s eyes as he awaited her answer made her breathless. The source of his magic worked through her body as she found herself entirely under his spell. Her eyes glazed over with adoration; she nodded, her lips parted as she spoke the words Sauron had longed to hear since he met her. “I will it.” She voiced. Sauron grunted, picking up his pace as he fucked her into the bed Y/n clung to Sauron.

"I thought about you every night, wishing you were here. Fucked my hand, imagining it was me and not him. That it was me giving you pleasure, the one who laid next to you each night. Craved you like a madman, did you think about me? Each time he fucked you, did you believe it was me? You knew deep down you wanted me all this time; you just needed me to help make you see. He is not worthy of your love or your heart. But I am, I am willing to devote my entire being to you. Mark you as mine and claim what has and should have been mine all along!" He growled as she came around his cock with a scream of his name. Sauron roared into her neck, his shallow thrusts colliding with her sweet spot, drawing out her peak as he filled her with his release. Their tangled, sweaty limbs glowed in the fire’s light as Sauron cradled Y/n’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, a quiet moan leaving her mouth. Sauron pulled away a string of saliva between them Y/n watched him slowly climb off her, his legs swinging over the bed. Walking over to the mantle above the fire, Y/n gradually sat up as Sauron resumed his sitting position in front of Y/n.

“I crafted this especially for you. It’s a symbol of my love and devotion to only you. This ring binds us together. My Queen, will you wear it for me? For us?” He smiled Y/n gasped at the beautiful ring between his fingers; she nodded, holding out her right hand as Sauron slipped the ring onto her finger. “It’s exquisite; how did you craft such a beautiful thing?” She held it to the light. Sauron smiled, his hand joining hers, linking their fingers together. “Smithery is just one of my many talents. Though you’ve already sampled my other two, there are still many more to explore.” He smiled, resting his chin against her shoulder. Y/n’s eyes met his, a glint dancing in their shared gaze.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Dawn broke in Lindon as Gil-Galad paced the council room, his fingers drumming against his lips. “High King, we cannot find Queen Y/n anywhere, but this letter was in her private reading room.” A guard presented Gil-Galad with a letter, his eyes finding the worried expressions of Elrond and Galadriel as Gil-Galad read the letter aloud.

𝐀 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝'𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐧.

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.

“NO!” Gil-Galad let out a pained shout. “He’s been here this entire time. Every day, each night. That explains why she has not been herself…” He trailed off. Elrond stepped forward. “If this is true, High King, and what we know of Sauron when he becomes obsessed with something or someone, his hold grows deeper the longer he has it in his grasp. If he has the Queen, we can be sure his intentions are more sinister than expected.” Galadriel listened to the conversation between them, her voice breaking them apart. “No. It’s not his intention to harm your Queen. My sister, I told him about her unknowingly. I never said she was the Queen, but his interest in Y/n was piqued when we were in Numenor. I believed his curiosity was sincere and genuine, but it was not; he learnt everything he needed about her from me. His obsession with my sister runs deep in the depths of his dark heart; there might be a twisted love, but he intends to lure her to his side. High King, my sister loves you unconditionally, and she always has. Has she ever given you a reason to question her heart?”

Galadriel asked Gil-Galad, his eyes softened at the thought of Y/n and their shared love. “She has never, and I know her heart, has remained pure of light and true to the loyalty of her people. If I am to make one last attempt to free her of these chains Sauron has clasped around her, so be it. Ready my horse, I shall ride to Eregion. Alone.” He ordered his guards, and Galadriel and Elrond looked at one another. “We should let him go alone; Sauron is capable of masterful illusions; we must go also.” Elrond nodded at the commander’s words, walking beside her. “We are in agreeance, for the first time in a long time, commander.” He smirked. Galadriel rolled her eyes at the herald’s tease before her lips smiled slightly.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Y/n threw up her remaining breakfast and moaned into the bucket. Believing she was just ill, she disposed of the vile sludge, rinsed her mouth with water, and found some elven herbs to help her stomach. Chewing on some freshly mint leaves, Y/n felt another wave of nausea. As Sauron entered his room, he saw her rush to the bucket, violently throwing up. “Y/n, my love, are you well?” He rubbed her back Y/n raised her hand as she continued to bring up the contents of her meal. “I need a healer.” She managed to speak out as Sauron nodded and left the room, searching for Eregion’s healer.

When Y/n was certain she had finished, she cleaned herself up and found Celebrimbor at his work desk. “My Queen! Lord Annatar tells me you are not well; he’s gone to find the healer.” Y/n sat beside him and nodded, taking a breath, her hand resting over her stomach. “I am thinking perhaps I could be with child. I have not had my courses and I am sure I was due for them.” She expressed the elder elf’s eyes lit up in delight. “Oh, this is splendid news!” He clapped his hands Y/n laughed at her friend’s happy expression as Sauron returned with the healer Y/n followed the elf into a private chamber. “My Queen, tell me your symptoms.” She asked with a smile Y/n explained she had woke up with nausea and vomiting, and for the last few weeks, she had been feeling restless and tired. The elf healer smiled, hearing Y/n’s words, nodding in understanding. “My Queen. I do not know for certain, but it sounds like you may be with child. Until we know for certain, get plenty of rest, and do not over-exert yourself.” The healer told her. As Y/n thanked the healer, Sauron entered the room, his face washed with worry. Y/n reached for his hand; he sat beside her. “All is well?” He asked, holding her hands in his Y/n and nodding. “She says I could be with child. She does not know for certain, yet it’s only early days.” Sauron nodded, placing his hand over her stomach; he smirked, closing his eyes and turning his head slightly. “Annatar?” Y/n’s voice broke through. Sauron blinked. “Forgive me; I was just picturing you with a little one. 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞.” Y/n rested her head on his chest; his eyes grew hard. Narrowing his eyes, his plan was now foiled. She was potentially with child, but it was not his…it was 𝐆𝐢𝐥-𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝'𝐬.

[sansaorgana]

— HUMBLED (I)

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Vala!Reader // Morgoth x fem!Vala!Reader

SUMMARY — Grown tired of living in your sister's shadow, you offered yourself to the one whom she had rejected once – Melkor. You regretted it quickly as he turned out to be a cruel lover and you became the very first subject of his twisted tortures meant to reshape one's spirit. In his eyes you were nothing by Varda's shadow but in the eyes of Mairon the Maia you have always been the only and the most holy goddess. When his master is gone, he can finally get close to you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I had two ideas for Sauron with Morgoth's ex and honestly? I will probably write one more because I like the other idea a lot, too. This fic is quite dark because of the nature of Reader's relationship with Morgoth. Not gonna lie, it was a challenge to write a Reader who is a literal Goddess but Sauron himself inspired me to explore this dynamic when he seemed to be so proud of the fact that it was a God himself torturing him... 👀 The Reader in this fic is a Vala (and Varda's sister but she remains undescribed as well), so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. In the next part there will be some goo/blob!Sauron + Halbrand and in this part our favourite ginger loser makes his comeback! 🦊 Apparently, I can't write him as a dom... 😂 Well, surely not with someone who is so much above him. Huge thanks to @dinsbeskar once more because we were brainstorming about this idea together. ⭐ Special thanks to @olchr-1 as well! 💚 PS – I haven't described how Morgoth looks like either but I imagine him as a tall, black haired hottie like on the fanarts. 💀😂 There is also a slight mention of the Reader being originally promised to Aulë, which was inspired by the story of Hephaestus and Aphrodite.

WARNINGS — Reader is evil (reshaped by Morgoth but not completely evil), domestic abuse (with Morgoth), mentions of Sauron and Reader being tortured by Morgoth, SMUT, sub!Sauron

WORD COUNT — 4,330

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

HUMBLED (I)

The very first thing you remembered was beholding your sister Varda being crowned one of the mightiest of the Valier and Queen of the Valar, Queen of the Stars, a beauty beyond the description of Men and Elves. So pure to reject Melkor and marry his brother Manwë instead – King of the Valar.

You followed your sister nearly everywhere, hoping to bask in her light but it never seemed to be enough to make you feel warm. You were greedy – at first, you were jealous of her husband and insisted on her spending more time with you than with him, striving for all of her affection. Once you realised that it was a lost cause, you began to detest Manwë.

You watched Varda situate the stars in the heavens above Arda as if they were jewels and you were the one setting them alight with the fire burning within you for they could lighten up the firmament. You were responsible for the treacherous element that the fire was – useful in many ways but also dangerous if not used correctly or with malicious intent.

Aulë The Smith began to court you as he watched you set the stars on fire. He was dreaming of how perfectly you two would go together if you were to fuel the fire inside his forge – the source of all his creation would come from you.

Everyone, including your sister, was encouraging you to become his wife for his heart was of a noble kind. Your own heart remained unsure but you wished to marry as well instead of only watching Varda and Manwë sharing a bond you could only dream of. Aulë, however, was not who you were dreaming about.

It was Melkor that you were drawn to; Manwë’s powerful brother, the very same whom your sister had rejected once and he had grown to resent her. You were observing him often because he fascinated you and you probably were the only one amongst the Valar who understood him. You were outcasts, both of you, but you were better at hiding it.

He was sometimes observing you as well, from the corner of his eye. You could feel his gaze on you and you knew that he had to feel the same way you did – he could see the malice inside of your heart for his was the same.

Whenever you would spend time with Varda dancing in the flower fields, you could feel Melkor creeping in the shadows and watching. Of course, he was there for your sister but still, some of his gazes were reserved for you only.

Therefore, on the eve of your wedding to Aulë, you forsake the light and seeked the shadow as you sneaked out of the palace you lived in and you found yourself knocking upon Melkor’s doors. There was no fear inside of you, only pure determination.

And you knew you could never replace your sister; your power was a mere shadow of hers. Yet, you offered yourself to Melkor on that night and he took you in, claimed you as his own and made you his bride. Before dawn, together, you fled from Arda for some time, leaving behind sorrow and dismay.

Your sister was most grieved by your betrayal. Alongside her, Aulë descended into a state of melancholy until Manwë mentioned to him the possibility of courting Yavanna instead and The Fruit-Giver became his wife – that union became one of harmony and love unlike the one you would have with The Smith.

You always fascinated Mairon the most – (Y/N), Mother of Flames, Aulë’s lost love. As his disciple, Mairon observed you humbly before and he knew his master’s heart enough to know that Aulë would always feel bitter towards you. Yavanna was his love match but she could not fuel the fire inside his forge and become the source of his creation.

What a source of inspiration you were for Mairon, though. The same way others worshipped Varda, Mairon worshipped you. Everytime he stared at the fire inside the forge, your image was all he could think of as the thought of you lingered in his mind constantly. You were long gone from Arda after eloping with Melkor but he hoped it was not yet over, that he would see you again. In the early days, when his spirit was still pure, he often fantasised about you being taken back by the Valar and forgiven by them, so he could build altars for you amongst the kins that would yet awake to inhabit Arda.

Some of his bolder daydreams were about another form of punishment for you – he would have you humbled in the name of redemption, bound to a lowly Maia. He meant himself, of course. He imagined the Mother of Flames becoming the source of his creation, fueling the fire within his forge and watching over his craft as his very own wife. He wondered how jealous Aulë would be then and how humiliated you would be, yet he was certain he could make you happy and fix the malice of your spirit with his undying love and endless devotion.

And perhaps that blasphemous dreams of Mairon the Maia, bold in their insolence, would be a kinder fate for both of you and the whole Arda. Because, in the meantime, you were starting to realise with bitter clarity why you should have stayed away from Melkor, the Dark Lord, in the first place.

In his greatness, he dwelt in solitude and his mind remained ungraspable for you. He would rarely let you inside to allow you to see the world the way he perceived it. Though he desired you, it was not as an equal, neither as companion nor as lover. And even in his desire, there was contempt, too, because as Varda’s sister you were a reminder of her rejection, which still lingered within your husband as a wound unhealed. And your beauty, your power, your holiness… They were nothing but pale echoes of your sister’s qualities; faint reflections of her no matter how hard you tried. And each one of your failures to meet Melkor’s towering expectations was met with your husband’s wrath.

None among his servants who would later know him as a cruel master ever dared to complain about his punishments in your presence because you were his first subject of torment, his earliest experiment in reshaping the will of another and they knew that you survived things they could barely think of. You were a Vala and you could endure the worst treatment, therefore in your suffering he reshaped you in ways that would shatter even the mighty Maiar. Melkor forged you anew and twisted your already spoiled essence to his dark design.

Alone in his presence you felt belittled and humbled. But by his side before others, you were exalted and invincible – cloaked in the might of his dominion – and that illusion of power became intoxicating. For allowing you to get sedated with such greatness was enough to worship him like he was Eru himself and out of all your offerings, he loved that devotion the most about you.

To be his wife was not easy – it was a torment and perhaps you were burdened with the most difficult fate out of all the Valar. Yet, it was what you had chosen willingly for yourself and you carried this responsibility with pride, trying not to think too much of the life you could have lived instead. You were made for much bigger things than spending your whole lifetime resting in the sunlight and being followed by the forest animals like some of the Valar ladies were. No, you were aiming for greatness and the price for it was pain.

When Mairon came to your husband’s service, you sensed immediately the amount of his worship and devotion towards you. You sometimes wondered if the Maia joined Melkor for him and his power or were you the real reason for his spirit’s betrayal. His devotion amused you but you offered him no kindness as his yearning for your favour was met with cold indifference. Even though he was desperate for more of it, he should know better and be grateful for your rejection. Because if Melkor would realise the true nature of Mairon’s feelings, he would not go easy on him and his wrath would be merciless. 

Sometimes you wondered how it was possible that Melkor could not sense Mairon’s admiration for you. Perhaps he thought of it as something innocent – something expected from his servants to feel towards his Queen. Perhaps he thought of it as silly and pathetic, unworthy of his attention, because he knew you would never humiliate yourself to betray him for a servant.

Or perhaps your husband cared about you even less than you suspected.

After Melkor’s defeat, you were hiding inside your fortress in the North from the wrath of the Valar. Your husband’s absence was welcomed by you with relief but also a huge emptiness within your soul. You had been his companion for ages and to be left alone now felt oddly wrong. Many of the creatures of darkness expected you to take the leadership but you stepped away instead, wishing for a calmer and more peaceful time at least. 

The power you had once craved now was something you dreaded. Your husband’s ways had drained you nearly completely, you were a shell of your old self. You wanted nothing but to crawl inside a hole and spend another eternity there, resting as a person unknown to the outside world. 

Mairon was the one who took all the responsibilities upon his shoulders and while committing to his duties, he would always emphasise he was fulfilling them in your name. Forever a servant he would remain. 

Now, without Melkor’s eyes observing him constantly, he gained more courage to bask in the remains of your corrupted light. You sensed his gaze on you wherever you would go.

Your wish, however, was to go much further away and Mairon knew about it, which was worrying him. He was trying his best – nearly desperately – to reunite your husband’s armies and dark creatures of the shadows, to become their leader and build a realm for you to rule over. To become worthy of you.

“My Lady,” he kneeled as he approached you and he kept his eyes low although you knew he dared to look up here and there, too tempted not to lay his gaze on you. “Please, grant me an audience,” he pleaded.

“You wish for an audience, Mairon? But is it not you preparing to get crowned very soon, my cunning spirit? Soon it shall be me asking for your audience,” you teased him and he looked up, his eyes filled with panic. Melkor would punish him for such schemes but you were not him and his influence was upon you no more. 

“I might crown myself the new Dark Lord, my Lady, but I would never consider myself to be above my Goddess,” he confessed and you smiled sadly as you approached him to grab him by his chin.

He swallowed thickly out of fear but his eyes remained soft, filled with nothing but pure admiration. In Melkor’s eyes you had been Varda’s unworthy shadow. Perhaps no one had ever perceived you with such devotion as Mairon.

“I shall build you altars in my realm; in every village, every town, every city. And in the capital of my kingdom where I will reside, I shall build a temple where you can find your peace,” he breathed out. “Just, please, do not abandon me.”

Your soft smile turned into a smirk when you let go of his chin and moved your hand to his ginger hair to caress it softly like he was your pet.

“I must, Mairon. When you build your temple for me, though, then I might come back to reside there. But until then, we must part,” you insisted and walked away at the sight of his eyes getting wet.

“Will they ever follow me without you by my side?” He asked, unsurely.

“They will not. Not all of them. Can you not see that it is a cursed path, destined to become a failure, to follow Melkor’s steps?” You turned around to look at his face once more. “Run away with me, Mairon. Forsake this realm, forsake your schemes,” you proposed and he gasped, visibly contemplating his answer. But the sparkles faded away from his eyes very quickly.

“No,” he shook his head. “I must stay and heal Middle-earth. I cannot abandon its people because of my own selfish desire,” he resisted you as you chuckled at that.

“You are no god, then, Mairon. Gods do whatever they wish. Spirits like you were created to serve,” you teased, cruelly as you sat on your armchair and he moved uncomfortably, looking away, but he remained kneeling and humbled.

“Allow me to serve you then, Mother of Flames,” he dared to whisper, nearly inaudibly, his breath shaky and lips trembling.

You tilted your head, thinking about his words. You would leave this realm soon, perhaps forever. He surely deserved a little treat before your departure for all the worship and devotion he had been gifting you with. And you deserved to give in to desires of your flesh as well after all the treatment your husband had given you.

“Come to me,” you ordered, harshly. You watched him trying to stand up slowly but you quickly stopped him. “On your hands and knees,” you explained.

Mairon glanced up at you as if he could not believe the amount of humiliation you would put him through now. It was true that back in the day you had often contrasted with Melkor’s cruelty but now Melkor was no more and you had been taught the craft by the very master of it.

Perhaps his influence was still upon you and it would remain there forever. 

You waited with an eyebrow raised and Marion gave up eventually, crawling on the floor towards you. He might have been humiliated and embarrassed but his eagerness was obvious in the way his eyes sparkled at the sight of your legs getting closer and closer to him. And when he was nearly in front of them, you opened them slightly as he gasped and looked up at you with admiration. He could not believe the access you had just given him while you smirked at his obedience.

“Serve me, Mairon,” you requested, wickedly. “Let my taste remain on your lips and might you never forget it while you build your kingdom in my name. I will come back to you then, my sweet, unless the Valar find and imprison me before,” you leaned in to caress his cheek with your finger gently.

“I shall fight them then. No matter how much it takes, I will release you and bind you to me instead,” he whispered.

“Bold of you, mighty Maia, to speak of such matters,” you let out a laugh. “Even as the greatest of your kind, you would still only be gifted with a mere shadow of my powers. We will never be equal, Mairon,” you reminded him and his eyes welled with even more tears at such a harsh reminder.

He cursed Eru himself for creating him as such a low spirit because this way he could never be worthy of you and to be able to walk by your side as your equal was all he had ever wanted.

“Let it be then… Anything to be close to you, my Lady,” he cooed. “Please, allow me to touch you,” he begged as he moved even closer to your legs.

“Proceed,” you nodded and watched him closely, observing his every movement, every gaze, which probably intimidated him even further but you could sense his desire to please you becoming too grand to care about anything else.

His hands wrapped around your ankles and moved up slowly, brushing your skin as the skirts of your dress pulled up, revealing your calves for him to admire. He had never seen them.

Well, perhaps he had. He had often sneaked up on you here and there and you had known about it but welcomed it with nothing but a chuckle as you had been pretending to be oblivious.

However, he had never been so close to them. To you. He crawled up even closer as he planted soft and devoted kisses to your exposed skin. You had never known kisses like these because Melkor had been mostly devouring you, tormenting you, using you. 

Mairon sighed and you felt a shiver go down your spine at the feeling of his fingertips brushing the back of your knees. You slid lower on the armchair as your skirts pulled nearly all the way up, exposing your thighs to him. Your obedient servant gasped and looked up at you once more as if he was asking if that part of you was allowed for him, too.

“Have I told you to stop?” You challenged him and he nodded before burying his head between your soft thighs to kiss and lick them softly, breathing the sweet scent of your skin as if you were the holiness personified.

Wicked thought it was for you were the most corrupted and fallen out of the female Valar and yet you doubted any of them were worshipped with such eagerness as you were now.

“If we never left Valinor and I never followed Melkor,” you breathed out, caressing Mairon’s ginger hair and playing with the delicate strands of his hair between your fingers, “you would be my disciple and we would spend forever in the fields under the sun with you worshipping me, my sweet spirit,” you shared your fantasy with him and he whined at that as he moved his face further and deeper, his nose nudging your glistening cunt as he requested for your legs to open even wider.

“So impatient,” you pointed out and grabbed him by his throat to pull him away. You felt him swallow underneath your hand and then you forced him to look up by grabbing his chin. It was slightly wet already from your leaking cunt and you leaned in to give him a possessive, open-mouth kiss; to taste yourself on him as his eyes widened but he gave in immediately.

While granting him with a kiss he would never forget, you opened your legs further and further, giving him full access to the sweet nectar between your thighs and he whined into your mouth like a brat when he realised what you were doing. He laid his trembling hands on your thighs and moved the folds of your dress even further to the back, making sure your cunt was all exposed for him.

The cold air of the room caused your clit to twitch and swell before his thumb found it and brushed it. Now it was your time to moan into his mouth. You broke the kiss and pressed your forehead to his as you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in. Pleasure without pain was an experience brand new for your flesh and you had to steady yourself as he watched in awe.

“A-allow me…” Mairon pleaded and your eyes opened once more as you looked deep into his with a nod.

You laid back in the armchair and watched him with curiosity but also a hint of contempt to see a spirit so mighty humbled like this – perhaps you could understand Melkor more than you had ever expected to be able to but it was truly fascinating and pleasurable to humiliate other spirits. 

To be able to kiss and lick your cunt, to devour it – it was surely a life-changing experience for your sweet Mairon. His usually calm demeanour changed in an instant, reminding you of a hungry hound as he whined and whimpered, lapping on your juices as if it was the sweetest nectar granting him immortality. He was intoxicated as his hands squeezed your thighs to keep them open and allow him to feast eagerly. 

Your body of a goddess allowed you to go on without breaks; a peak after peak as you shivered and trembled, caressing his head and meeting his hazy, devoted gaze once in a while to let him know he was doing good. Your praise meant everything to him for all he had always known was your husband’s reprimands. 

Your flesh could go on and on but your mind of a goddess was a demanding one and soon you grew simply bored of his ministrations, therefore you pushed his head away and crossed your legs, taking away the access from him.

Mairon’s face was flushed, his eyes foggy and skin glistening from sweat and your juices dripping down his chin. He was kneeling and looking up at you mindlessly as if he would follow your every order now, no matter how self-destructive it would be.

“You’ve served me good, Mairon,” you grabbed his chin and smiled at him. “Good servant,” you emphasised.

“P-please,” he whimpered and you furrowed your brow before realising what he begged you for.

His own release.

“Was not your kin created to serve mine? I do not think our creator blessed you with such desires, Mairon. Do not be a dirty liar,” you teased him.

“Please, my Lady,” he whined, desperately.

You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Alright, then, let me see for myself,” you smirked and pushed him down onto the floor before getting out of your armchair and straddling him like a predator would trap her prey before sinking her teeth into him.

He looked so pretty like this – both excited and turned on but also absolutely terrified of you. You could do everything to him and he had no other way but to accept it. And he knew – he knew very well – that you could be as cruel as Melkor if you only wanted to be.

Melkor’s brutality had been driven by his own whim. Yours would be driven by your revenge for all the centuries of being treated like his dog. Beaten dogs tended to bite deadly and Mairon knew.

“Do not fear me, sweet Mairon. I only want to see for myself if it is true that you have fallen and corrupted yourself so much with your devotion towards me that you have been gifted with desires of the flesh,” you smirked. “Or cursed with them,” you pointed out as your hands worked on his robes and the trousers underneath them swiftly and quickly.

You gasped and laughed when you saw how hard he was already after all those hours he had spent between your legs. He blushed even further and his cheeks were crimson red now like his clothes.

“This must hurt,” you pointed out with a sinister chuckle. “Is it the first time for you?” You asked, brushing his thighs with your fingernails, making him shiver under your touch but refusing to actually pay any attention to his hard and reddened cock with its tip swollen and twitching, leaking precum.

“No,” he confessed, nearly inaudibly.

“Interesting,” you hummed to yourself and leaned in, your face so close to his that your noses brushed. “And what were you doing usually when it happened?”

“Nothing,” Mairon confessed, his face wincing out of shame. “Nothing, my Lady. I would never… I would never dare to…” He gasped after every word, so sweetly desperate and frustrated but not brave enough to ask you to do anything in particular. He would never order you around.

“Oh, my sweet, poor Mairon… You should have come to me each time and I would have helped you,” you grinned at him although you both knew it was not true. None of you would have ever dared to commit such an act behind Melkor’s back. “Do you want me to ease you now?” You asked.

“P-please…”

You reached towards his twitching cock and grabbed his wet length as you watched with cold fascination while he struggled and writhed underneath you. A few pumps of your hand was enough to make him spill himself with a whine, bucking his hips into your hand as you kept jerking him off to make more and more of his seed spurt out. 

His body of a Maia did not need breaks but there was always a limit to how much seed any male flesh could produce. And when you felt he could absolutely do no more, you stopped and watched him catch his breath as you giggled, laying on top of him and intertwining your legs. One of your hands kept caressing his sore and softening cock gently as your other hand pulled his head closer to your chest, burying his face between your breasts and caressing his ginger hair strands.

“Please, do not go… I will be so lost without you,” Mairon looked up to meet your gaze and you smiled sadly at that.

“Do not start again,” you scolded him.

“Can you at least stay for the coronation?” He pleaded but you shook your head.

“No. I must leave tonight, as soon as possible,” you leaned in to kiss his forehead and a short while of silence occurred.

It surprised you greatly but some part of you began craving to take care of him now. As if the sinful act you had just performed with him, which stained you in a way – because what else would you call lowering yourself to pleasing a Maia? – as if it had forged an attachment between you two and bound you to him indeed like he had blasphemously suggested before.

You definitely had to leave and hide from the Valar, seek your own peace of mind. But you knew already that you would be back for your sweet Mairon sooner than both of you expected.

MASTERLIST

[notreallythatlost]

at first, i have one thing to say: MASTERPIECE

LILY, THIS ONE IS LITERALLY EVERYTHING TAKING ALL MY SANITY AWAY BECAUSE YOU WRITE SUB!SAURON SO FREAKING GOOD 🤍🤍

and i have so many thoughts:

Aulë The Smith began to court you as he watched you set the stars on fire. He was dreaming of how perfectly you two would go together if you were to fuel the fire inside his forge – the source of all his creation would come from you.

i love the fact, that aulë courted her and that she was supposed to be with him

Aulë, however, was not who you were dreaming about

and denied him because of melkor

Whenever you would spend time with Varda dancing in the flower fields, you could feel Melkor creeping in the shadows and watching.

he really IS a creep

He wondered how jealous Aulë would be then and how humiliated you would be, yet he was certain he could make you happy and fix the malice of your spirit with his undying love and endless devotion.

THESE LINES AHHH

Because, in the meantime, you were starting to realise with bitter clarity why you should have stayed away from Melkor, the Dark Lord, in the first place.

and how she should’ve stayed away 😭😭

You were a Vala and you could endure the worst treatment, therefore in your suffering he reshaped you in ways that would shatter even the mighty Maiar. Melkor forged you anew and twisted your already spoiled essence to his dark design.

MY GOD???

You were made for much bigger things than spending your whole lifetime resting in the sunlight and being followed by the forest animals like some of the Valar ladies were. No, you were aiming for greatness and the price for it was pain.

goosebumps, literally

When Mairon came to your husband’s service, you sensed immediately the amount of his worship and devotion towards you.

oh, to be that worshipped

Because if Melkor would realise the true nature of Mairon’s feelings, he would not go easy on him and his wrath would be merciless. 

i think, someone would’ve suffer more than he already did

“My Lady,” he kneeled as he approached you and he kept his eyes low although you knew he dared to look up here and there, too tempted not to lay his gaze on you. “Please, grant me an audience,” he pleaded.

“I might crown myself the new Dark Lord, my Lady, but I would never consider myself to be above my Goddess,” he confessed and you smiled sadly as you approached him to grab him by his chin.

HOT HOT HOT DAMN

Your soft smile turned into a smirk when you let go of his chin and moved your hand to his ginger hair to caress it softly like he was your pet.

oh damn, you bad girl

“Come to me,” you ordered, harshly. You watched him trying to stand up slowly but you quickly stopped him. “On your hands and knees,” you explained.

“Serve me, Mairon,” you requested, wickedly. “Let my taste remain on your lips and might you never forget it while you build your kingdom in my name. I will come back to you then, my sweet, unless the Valar find and imprison me before,” you leaned in to caress his cheek with your finger gently.

“I shall fight them then. No matter how much it takes, I will release you and bind you to me instead,” he whispered.

oh, holy-

“Even as the greatest of your kind, you would still only be gifted with a mere shadow of my powers. We will never be equal, Mairon,” you reminded him and his eyes welled with even more tears at such a harsh reminder.

that must’ve hurt so bad 😭

“You’ve served me good, Mairon,” you grabbed his chin and smiled at him. “Good servant,” you emphasised.

He looked so pretty like this – both excited and turned on but also absolutely terrified of you. You could do everything to him and he had no other way but to accept it. And he knew – he knew very well – that you could be as cruel as Melkor if you only wanted to be.

A few pumps of your hand was enough to make him spill himself with a whine, bucking his hips into your hand as you kept jerking him off to make more and more of his seed spurt out. 

AND ANOTHER ONE THAT LEFT ME TOTALLY BREATHLESS

But you knew already that you would be back for your sweet Mairon sooner than both of you expected.

i’m screaming, give it to me

oh my good lord, i’m speechless.

no, i mean really because i just loved it. and your writing, it gets me everytime. 🤍

i can’t wait to read the next part, can’t wait to see what you did with goo!sauron and our beloved halbrand

[sansaorgana]

Omg! Thank you so much for your kind words, doll 😘 I'm glad you liked it so much 💖 I'm planning to post the second part tomorrow 😃

The "evil" reaction gif made me WHEEZE 🤣

[notreallythatlost]

FROM MY SOUL

pairing: halbrand/sauron x female!elf!reader

summary: you were betrayed by your great love sauron a long, long time ago. and when he returned, you want him to pay for what he did.

warnings: 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, jealous!sauron, handjob, oral (female receiving), p in v, rough sex, mentions of sub!sauron but switches to dom!sauron really fast (i couldn’t resist), blood licking, dark!reader

word count: 3k

note: i’m still alive at posting fics! 🙈 i think this is one of my personal favorites and i really hope you’ll like it too. xx also, i wanted to say thank you again, for all your support. it always encourages me so much. <33 and thanks to @sansaorgana for the gif inspiration, it hasn’t left my mind since then. 🤪

this fic is inspired by last night’s mascara by griff

THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST

The air smelled musty as you entered the prison. But besides that disgusting stench, there was something else that caught your attention. A presence so powerful that it was impossible to resist.

“I'll be honest, when I first saw you here, I didn't want to believe it,” you said, the sound of your voice echoing off the walls. There was no reason to be secretive — after all, you were the only ones here.

“Sauron, the Dark Lord, has returned. And imagine, he is in Númenor. I wonder what he wants here?” you continued as you stopped in front of his cell. You knew how much he hated that name and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from saying it.

The man slowly sat up and kept his eyes on the floor in front of him. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said quietly and turned his head in your direction.

You could feel his gaze gliding over your body. Hot and full of desire. “Y/N, it's been a long time,” he continued, standing up to walk towards the bars and into the light of the torches.

Now you could see his face, which looked pretty scratched, he must have gotten into a fight with someone. “Do I want to know why you ended up in this cell?” you asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, which caused a smile on his lips.

“Dispute about a woman,” he said, leaning his arms against the bars, as you raised your eyebrows. “Don’t start…,” he murmured and his gaze fell down to your hand. “I see you haven't forgotten me. Or the things we did together,” he continued and you rolled your eyes. You hid your hand behind your back, and with it the ring on your finger.

“But that's not why you're here, am I right?” you asked, ignoring his words. “What brought you to Númenor?” With that, you stepped closer to him and looked him in the eyes, without any emotion.

There was a brief silence and only the faint rustling of the torches could be heard, then he began to speak. “To be honest, it was just a coincidence at first. But when I stepped onto this island and felt your presence, I knew that fate had brought me here. Back to the only woman who was ever able to love me. And maybe, after all these years, she is ready to stand by my side.”

In another time, his words might have triggered something in you, but now only an unimpressed laugh escaped your lips. “How long did it take you to rehearse that? A century?” you asked and Sauron frowned.

“Believe what you want,” he growled threateningly, his pride hurt by the slight undertone of mockery in your voice. “I’m only telling the truth.”

“Just as it is true that you betrayed me? Betrayed me at the moment when I needed you most? You knew what you were doing when you set the orcs on me out of fear that I might, one day, have more power than you could ever bear,” you spat out the words, but he didn't even blink.

“And yet you still wear that ring,” he noted, raising his hand as you raised yours in the same way. For a moment you stared at the silver band which shimmered in the light of the torches, remembering the moment he had put it on your finger.

It’s you and me against the world.

That was his promise. And he broke it with turning his back to you.

With a snort, you ripped your hand from his power. “I wear this ring to remind me of one thing. That I will never trust the words of a moron like you again.”

With that, you whirled around and left him behind, alone in the cell where he had brought himself into.

You would have loved to plunge your dagger into his chest, but you would have to wait. And patience was a virtue, after all.

The wine tingled as it ran down your throat and you sighed softly. It felt good and distracted you from the fact that your lover was on this island with you. That he was still alive, even though you had thought him dead for so long.

“You look like you could use some company,” a voice said, and when you raised your head, you looked into Kemen’s eyes.

“To be honest, I'd much rather be alone right now,” you replied, but he didn't seem to care what you wanted. He sat down on the bench opposite you and looked at you with a hungry look. “Believe me, I can tell when someone doesn't want to be alone. And the way you're drinking that wine, you definitely need some distraction,” he explained and you snorted.

“Oh, yeah? And you want to give me that distraction?” you asked skeptically, raising your eyebrows as you placed the mug on the wooden table.

Kemen just looked you in the eyes as he reached across the table for your hand. You looked down at his fingers that were holding yours and then raised your gaze again to look into his eyes.

A few moments later he was pushing your back against the wall of an alley while he greedily devoured your mouth. It wasn't that you found him attractive. He was a nasty little snake, but in that moment he could give you what you needed and that it was a distraction from the man, who hurt you so many centuries before but still held your heart in his hand.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this,” the mortal gasped against your lips and you had to control yourself from rolling your eyes. “You better be quiet and keep kissing me,” you replied and your lips collided again. But just as his hands were about to wander down your body, he stopped.

Or rather, someone ripped him away from you, causing him to stumble backwards into a few barrels that were behind him. “You better get out of here before I kill you,” Halbrand growled menacingly, making Kemen swallow hard. He gave you a last look, before he turned and hurried away.

With a heavy sigh, you wiped your mouth, erasing the feeling of his lips, as you casually pushed yourself away from the wall.

“Now you've chased him away. I just wanted to have a little fun,” you said with a sly smile, which made Halbrand snort.

“Seriously? He's not even attractive. Nor even worthy of you. Besides...” he began, moving closer. “I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you like this.” You could see his eyes darken and you took a step towards him. Your hand went to his chest and you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sweetheart, who can touch me is still my decision. And it's definitely not you,” you said, pushing past him and wanting to leave to follow your toy, but he grabbed your wrist.

“It's you and me against the world,” he said, making you freeze. You closed your eyes, let the words sink in and gathered all your hatred before turning around and shoving him in the chest. “You damn bastard! Do you really think that I will fall for these words again? That I will give myself to you again as if you hadn't ripped my heart out of my chest?”

By now he was standing with his back pressed against the wall and stared at you with a wild look. Your breathing was heavy and you were about to slap him, but instead your mouths collided.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his clothes while he held your head in his hands. He devoured you completely, just as if he were a starving man. His tongue ran over yours while his other hand clung desperately to your hip.

An angry growl escaped your lips as you pulled away from him again, grabbing the dagger from under the skirt of your dress to press it against his throat. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me. You promised to give me everything. Instead, you took everything from me. And I will make you pay for that,” you hissed against his lips, but he didn't seem to care at all.

“Go on, do it. Make me pay for it,” he growled, his voice full of desire, giving you goosebumps. “But you can't deny what your body is telling me so clearly. You're dying to feel me, aren't you?” he continued, his words against your mouth and you pressed him a little harder against the wall.

The dagger was still at his throat and he slowly raised his hand. He wrapped it around the blade and pushed it away, causing pitch-black blood to ooze from his hand and drip onto the floor. “You know I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I wanted you by my side, believe me,” he said and pushed himself away from the wall, forcing you to back away. The blade was still cutting into his skin, but you didn't think about letting it down.

“Then why did you betray me?” you asked him, your voice shaking with suppressed anger.

“Because otherwise you would have gone down with me,” he answered, the look in his eyes so honest that you slowly lowered the knife. “You want to hear the real reason I came to Númenor? It's you,” he added, raising his hand to stroke your cheek, but you clasped his wrist before he could touch you.

Your eyes were locked, neither of you able to look away as you took his hand and ran your tongue over the bleeding wound in his palm. The sweet taste of his blood filled your senses and you saw his mouth open in a soft moan.

The dagger fell from your hand and onto the ground as Halbrand's lips crashed against yours again. He groaned as his tongue touched yours again and he could taste his own blood.

Soon his hands were everywhere, in your hair, on your ass and your breasts — but you had no intention of letting him take control. In the middle of the kiss you paused and looked up at him with an evil smile. “You really think I'll forgive you that easily?” you asked and he frowned. “I want you to beg. I want you to fall to your knees in front of me and beg for forgiveness,” you continued and his jaw tensed.

Before he could protest, you pushed him back against the wall again and your hand stroked the bulge in his pants. “Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused me? How many times I've wished you were alive so I could be the one to stab a damn dagger into your heart?” you said and Sauron hissed as you applied light pressure to his erection.

You could feel his cock twitching in his pants, desperate for your touch, but you were far from finished.

“I turned my back on the Valar, and yet I begged them to wash you from my soul. Your touches, your kisses, everything that was left of you,” a tear ran down your cheek, “so that I no longer have to bear the pain of your betrayal, but they did not hear me,” you continued, pushing his hand up. Fresh blood had oozed from the wound, but instead of licking it up, you smeared it on the skin of his neck.

You slowly leaned forward, one hand in his hair, pulling his head back. “And here you are and I finally get the chance to take my revenge,” you whispered before sliding your tongue over his neck and licking the blood from his skin.

Halbrand shuddered and gasped as he moved his hips against your body. But you wouldn't give him that release. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“Please,” escaped his lips and you bit your lower lip.

“Please what?” you breathed and began to massage him through the fabric. “Use your words, deceiver,” you demanded and he growled in frustration at your choice of words.

“Please, touch me,” he said and you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Without saying another word, you opened his pants and took his cock in your hand, which made Halbrand almost gasped in relief. With your other hand you gently brushed some hair from his face and he leaned almost longingly into your touch.

“Of all the faces you've ever worn... this is my favorite, my dearest Mairon,” you whispered, slowly starting to move your hand up and down his length.

His eyes closed and his head fell to the side as you squeezed a little harder, causing him to moan softly. “How does that feel?” you asked, pausing when he didn't answer. “Have you lost your voice?” you breathed against his lips and he growled softly.

“It feels good. Finally feeling your touch again... I've been longing for this for so—” he broke off as you ran your thumb over the tip and smeared the precum.

“Fuck!” he groaned and you couldn't help but smile. “That's the plan,” you replied and started moving your hand faster until his cock began to twitch in your hand. His breathing became deeper and you could tell he was close, but you weren't finished yet.

Just as he was about to reach his climax, you let go of him and his moan turned into a frustrated growl. “You damn...” the words died in his throat as he opened his eyes and his gaze fell on your naked body.

He could see how much you wanted him too, because your arousal was clearly visible on the inside of your thighs, practically inviting him to taste you.

“You will be the death of me...” he said and took a step towards you, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest again, brushing your fingertips through the dark curls growing there.

“No, not yet. Not until you're ready to kneel for me,” you said, but he decided your dominance was over now. He came closer, your hand now trapped between your bodies, and slid his hand over the curve of your ass.

“I would always fall to my knees for you, my love,” he whispered against your lips, gliding to the back of your knee with his rough hand and lifted your leg to his hip.

With a smile, you leaned against the stone wall behind you and looked him in the eyes as he slid his finger through your folds. After that, he raised his finger to his lips and licked up your wetness, making you whimper.

“Are you getting impatient now?” Sauron asked, unable to suppress a grin, then, without warning, he sank to his knees and guided your leg so that it was over his shoulder.

Finally, he dove between your legs and ran his tongue through your folds. Your body trembled under the intensity of the touch and you clung your hands to his hair. Your lips were slightly open, but no sound came out.

Only when he dipped his tongue into your wetness, did you moan and lean forward to press his head deeper between your legs. But Halbrand put a hand on your stomach and pushed your upper body back, so you had to lean against the wall again.

He started lapping at you as if you were his favorite meal and didn’t stop until you whimpered his name, then he pulled away from you and stood up.

“I have missed you, you have no idea how much. Even when I was nothing more than a mass without a body or a brain, all I could think about was that beautiful face and how much I loved fucking that beautiful little cunt,” he murmured and began to gently kiss up your jaw. “I wanted to marry you. I wanted you by my side. And in the end, I had no choice but to betray you — so I could protect you,” he continued, pressing a kiss just below your ear, the stubble making you shiver. “If I hadn't done that, you would have suffered the same fate as me. And unlike me, you wouldn't have come back.”

His hand lifted your leg to his hip again and you felt him stroking your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“What if I hadn't managed to escape? What if they had killed me?” you asked him before letting out a shaky breath. “Oh love, I never doubted you, so why should I have started with that?”

With those words, he thrusted his entire length into you. A breathless cry escaped you, and as you looked into Halbrand's eyes, could see the darkness spreading in them. Dark lines became visible on the skin around his eyes for a split second, making him seem so much more menacing — but to you, even more attractive.

It caused your core to clench around his cock and a gasp escaped your lips. Your fingers slid over the lines, which disappeared right after, and his gaze met yours. “You are mine. You always have been,” he said, beginning to move his hips against yours. “You can never escape me.” With that, he pulled out of you before thrusting hard into you again, drawing a frustrated cry from you.

“You will never be able to wash me from your soul. And even if I do, I will find you and defile it again, because you are mine.” Your head fell to the side and you breathed his name. “Mine.” Another thrust and a tremor in your body as you met his movement.

Suddenly he slipped out of you, grabbed with both hands under your thighs and lifted you up so that you had to wrap your legs around his waist. Seconds later he was inside you again and fucked you mercilessly against the wall.

The rough stone scratched your back while the most sinful sounds escaped your lips.

And when he felt you approaching your climax, he put a hand on your cheek and stroked your lower lip with his thumb. Your eyes met again and you could hear him in your head. Heard the words in the Black Speech that made you fall apart.

You and me against the world.

And you realized, that it was true. You could never really wash him from your soul.

2024 notreallythatlost

[sansaorgana]

“Dispute about a woman,” he said, leaning his arms against the bars, as you raised your eyebrows. “Don’t start…,” he murmured and his gaze fell down to your hand. “I see you haven't forgotten me. Or the things we did together,” he continued and you rolled your eyes. You hid your hand behind your back, and with it the ring on your finger.

Imagining Halbrand in that cell with his face scratched... Looking me up and down... Oh holy mother of God... 🥵

There was a brief silence and only the faint rustling of the torches could be heard, then he began to speak. “To be honest, it was just a coincidence at first. But when I stepped onto this island and felt your presence, I knew that fate had brought me here. Back to the only woman who was ever able to love me. And maybe, after all these years, she is ready to stand by my side.”

You fucking deceiver 🫠 I would fall for him so much 🫦

“Seriously? He's not even attractive. Nor even worthy of you. Besides...” he began, moving closer. “I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you like this.” You could see his eyes darken and you took a step towards him. Your hand went to his chest and you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

Obsessive, possessive, jealous and toxic. The best combo in a fictional man 😍🙈

“Go on, do it. Make me pay for it,” he growled, his voice full of desire, giving you goosebumps.

Fuck... It's the way I'd manhandle him after hearing that 🤗

“You really think I'll forgive you that easily?” you asked and he frowned. “I want you to beg. I want you to fall to your knees in front of me and beg for forgiveness,” you continued and his jaw tensed.

Sauron on his knees is my favourite Sauron 😊

“Of all the faces you've ever worn... this is my favorite, my dearest Mairon,” you whispered, slowly starting to move your hand up and down his length.

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 yes, girlboss, call him a pretty boy, make him blush and make him cum!

Dark lines became visible on the skin around his eyes for a split second, making him seem so much more menacing — but to you, even more attractive.

I'm glad I'm not the only one finding it hot... That or when his eyes change. A creepy little reminder of how powerful and evil he truly is... 🥵

“You will never be able to wash me from your soul. And even if I do, I will find you and defile it again, because you are mine.” Your head fell to the side and you breathed his name. “Mine.” Another thrust and a tremor in your body as you met his movement.

Yours, yours, yours... 🥲🫡

And when he felt you approaching your climax, he put a hand on your cheek and stroked your lower lip with his thumb. Your eyes met again and you could hear him in your head. Heard the words in the Black Speech that made you fall apart.

Black Speech is extremely sexy and the fact he only spoke it like inside of her mind at a moment like this? Had to be mind-blowing 😵‍💫

I need her to go with him to Middle-earth as the Queen of The Southlands 😩

[missjadesfics]

His Wicked Game (II)

Sauron | Halbrand | Annatar x Gil galad Wife!Reader x King Gil-Galad request: no gif credits: @fukutomichi @vreenak divider credits: @cafekitsune mdni (gradient colours my changes) Summary: Y/n begins questioning her feelings. Sauron forges a binding ring. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, dream sex, telepathy, oral (f receiving), mention of masturbation, slight!voyeurism, jealousy, emotions, obsessive!sauron, semi-public sex, riding, beginning of possessive!sauron, illusions, Y/n develops feelings for Sauron, slight!manipulation, brief!breeding kink, threesome kind of?, Y/n and Gil-galad are still in love?, seduction, sweet talking Word Count: 3k Disclaimer: I don't own The Rings of Power or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx this fic is inspired by Lana Del Rey - Money Power Glory

hope this lives up to part I's status xx

— Part I —

“You jest, my King.” Y/n teased, resting her head on Gil-galad’s chest; his fingers moved through her hair with a soothing wave motion. “I never jest, my love. However, I say it’s only for you whenever I do.” He smiled, leaning down and resting his head on hers. Their hands touched each other’s cheeks, breathing one another in. The sound of birds tweeting filled the air as the lovers lay by their secret place in Lindon’s woods. “You’ve been distant lately. Is everything well?” His concerned voice rumbled through his chest as he voiced his question. Y/n released a gentle sigh. “I have been feeling a little unwell, I will admit. But I am on the mend, my love. There is nothing to worry about. You have enough on your mind with your duties as King.” She reminded him with a subtle kiss on his lips. Gil-galad returned her kiss, both parting briefly for Y/n to turn, resting on her knees, connecting her lips with her husband’s again. Moaning in unison, Gil-galad trailed his hands to her hips, pulling her into his lap, a giggle falling from her lips into their shared kiss. Pushing him onto his back, Y/n laid down, her hand resting above his heart; she smiled. “The Valar has blessed me with the most devoted husband I could ask for. What did I do to deserve such a man?” She whispered, her lips ghosting over his. The King grinned, bucking his hips upwards, a low groan filling his throat when Y/n pressed a kiss to his jaw—moving her waist in slow movements, a tiny gasp emitting from her lips. “Gil-galad” Her breathless moan tickled his sensitive ear, and her husband gripped her dress tightly in his hands. Sitting up, Y/n removed her hair from her braid confines her fingers winding down to tug at Gil-galad’s pants. A smirk formed on her lips when Gil-galad took her silent hint.

You say that you wanna go To a land that's far away How are we supposed to get there With the way that we're living today?

Resting on her thighs, Y/n waited for Gil-galad to release his painfully hard cock before she laid her legs on either side of his waist. Lowering herself, his cock filling her thoroughly, a loud moan bubbled in her throat while she stilled her body to adjust to his large size. Gil-galad groaned, his head thrown back, exposing the veins in his neck as Y/n desperately clutched his clothing for stability. “Gods be good. Just like that, my love.” Gil-galad gasped; a sharp thrust from his pelvis drove his cock to hit her sweet spot, making Y/n lose her balance, scrambling to hold herself up as Gil-galad made a breathy laugh with each roll of her hips sent a pleasurable shock through her core. “So beautiful above me, using me for your pleasure. Not many Kings would allow it.”

Gil-galad grunted, earning a sigh from his wife. Her eyes fluttered closed, relishing in the waves of euphoria flowing through her. Gil-galad’s hand lay on her stomach, and Y/n’s fingers were lacing with his in a loving grip. Her eyes opened, a sharp gasp escaping her mouth, seeing Halbrand leaning against a tree—a dangerous smirk on his face. Rolling them over, Gil-galad ran his hand up Y/n’s thigh under her dress, exposing her thigh, his lips attached to her neck. “𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞?” His voice filled her mind Y/n arched her back, her eyes falling on Halbrand, and raised his finger to his lips. “𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡?” He asked, his back falling onto the tree, sliding down to the grass, his eyes falling closed, and Adam’s apple bobbing heavily. “Gil-galad!” Y/n cried out, one hand tangled into her husband’s raven hair, the other behind his shoulder, gripping his robe tightly. Halbrand laughed, his wrists draped over his knees. “𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?” Y/n felt her legs begin to quiver, her climax threatening to break as Gil-galad panted heavily. “Want to feel you come undone around me, my love.” He moaned, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss Y/n, her tongue dancing with his, their gasps filling each other’s mouths as Halbrand’s lips ghosted over her cheek. “𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠?” His fingers trailed along the collar of her dress. “𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞” Y/n sobbed her walls clenching around Gil-galad’s cock her hands gripping his arms Gil-galad’s hips turned erratic as he chased his climax filling her womb with his seed. His body shook from the afterpleasure, his head resting on Y/n’s, their laboured breathing touching each other’s lips. “I have always been the optimistic one, my dear, but I do believe you will be child this time.” He smiled Y/n felt tears brim her eyes and nodded, nudging her nose against his. “I would love nothing more, my love.” Peppering Y/n’s neck with delicate kisses, her eyes flickered behind her. 

— 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sauron opened his eyes, letting out a guttural moan as his body curled forward. His hand was sticky with his seed; he looked into his mirror. His forehead was drenched in sweat, lips red from him biting down to suppress his sounds. His chest hurried to keep up with his unsteady breaths. “How tragic, you want a woman so desperately you watch another have what you can’t. Sauron; the pitiful.” Morgoth laughed. Saruon pushed his old master out of his mind, cleaned himself from his release and adjusted his robes. The colours of beige and brown fitting for a perfect emissary of the Valar — 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬. He chose the name quite literally ‘anna’ meaning Gift and ‘tar’ meaning Lord, though some others in Middle Earth would argue it meant for of meaning to a King or High King. Running his fingers through his hair, the sun lighting the angelic-like blonde hair to match his fair form. An elf with immaculate features, he differed from other elves; he didn’t take this form just to fool those around him. He had taken this handsome form in hopes she would find it attractive. Everything he did from the moment he met her was for her only. He gently placed the half-golden crown on his head, and a smirk formed on his lips — 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬.

You talk lots about God Freedom comes from the call But that's not what this bitch wants Not what I want at all

Y/n found her hand brushing along her cheek, where she felt the caress of Halbrand’s lips. A delighted shiver travelled through her body, bringing a smile to her face. Y/n poured some water into her goblet, sipping the cool liquid and her fingers flipping through the pages of her book. “𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.” Halbrand’s voice echoed in the chambers. Y/n swallowed, her eyes fluttered and closed, and she felt the ghost touch of his hands on her skin. “You are not real. Nor are you here.” She spoke aloud, continuing to read her book, ignoring Halbrand’s alluring voice. A moment of silence fell in the chambers Y/n reached out to adjust her dress, feeling a hand grip her wrist. “𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞” His figure appeared before she swatted his hand away Y/n stood before him. “I am the High Queen. And Gil-galad’s wife, you will show me respect and give me the courtesy of leaving of my mind.” She commanded, speaking with a shaky tone. Halbrand smiled, his eyes shining with amusement. “𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭.” He whispered, a finger tracing along her bottom lip; his eyes turned soft, and he walked her back slowly to the wall. Pinning her between him and the marble, Halbrand released a shuddered breath. Y/n felt paralysed under his gaze, unable to move or run from his grasp. Halbrand smoothed his hands over her hips, pushing up her body and resting his head on hers. “𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞” He whispered again, fading before her. Y/n rested a hand over her rapidly beating heart, touching her hip, and a warmth bloomed from his touch. Pushing herself away from the wall, she paced her chambers, biting her nails nervously. “𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞” She heard him call to her. 

I want money, power and glory I want money and all your power, all your glory Hallelujah, I wanna take you for all that you got Hallelujah, I'm gonna take them for all that they got, baby

Feeling two arms wrap around her waist, Y/n let her head fall back onto a broad shoulder. “I’ve missed you” A mix of Halbrand and Gil-galad’s voices caused a moan to fall from her lips. “Want you” She murmured, spinning in their hold and kissing their lips with a fevor. Sweeping her into their arms and carrying her to the bed, Y/n gasped, feeling light-headed. The sound of her dress tearing didn’t bother her. Craving the man's attention before her, she needed to feel something. Anything. “𝐒𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞” Halbrand’s rough tone made her shiver her fingers threading through his brunette hair his mouth attached to her thigh biting down leaving a mark on her porcelain skin. “Yes!” She cried, the contact of his tongue meeting her aching core making her body jolt a chuckle leaving Halbrand his tongue greedily lapping her arousal leaking from her needy cunt. Gazing down, her eyes were met with her husband’s, a sharp gasp escaping her one hand gripping the bed in a fierce grip. Her legs sprawled out, her desperate whines filling the chambers as the man between her legs ate her out. 

“Been thinking about you all day, my love.” Gil-galad mumbled into her cunt. The vibrations through her core made her sigh. Arching her back, her hips rolling against his tongue, she couldn’t tell what was genuine or a dream. It all felt so real even if it was a dream. “Gil-galad!” Y/n whined, her fingers holding his head, rolling her hips harder against his face. His nose nudged her clit whilst his tongue delved into her entrance, moving his muscle in circular motions; his head moved from side to side Y/n dared to look down at Halbrand’s piercing ocean eyes staring back at her. His eyes sparkled something animalist and wild behind the stare as he grinned, cupping her ass and pulling her closer, the loose strands of chocolate curls falling over her hips—a hungry growl emitting from his chest, positing himself further up her body—𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲. Halbrand threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling away his lips and chin glistening with her arousal.

“𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.” His lips curled, his hands gripping her soft flesh tightly in his grip. His eyes grew dark, jaw tightening, and his features almost turned possessive. The image made Y/n’s heart skip, not of fear but in delight; Halbrand could sense it; he licked his lips. His mouth moved, but with no sound came a sinister smile decorating his lips. Y/n blinked; the image of Halbrand was replaced with Gil-galad looking back at her with a creased brow. “Have I done something to upset you, my dear?” His gentle voice filled with concern; Y/n shook her head, and her husband crawled up to press his lips to hers.

“Do you wish for me to carry on?” Y/n nodded silently. Gil-galad grinned, kissing down her body Y/n felt her body collapse onto the bed. Gil-galad’s mouth latched onto her cunt, this time with more vigor. Screwing her eyes shut, Y/n whimpered, a chorus of moans and spills of her husband’s name filling the room. Lapping at her cunt greedily, the debauchery of his tongue meeting her wetness seeping from her entrance, making her head grow fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure. Swinging a leg over his shoulder and pulling him closer, smothering his face between her legs, her husband gave a pleased moan, his hands massaging any part of her flesh he could hold. 

“Anne- me your pleasure, mime mel.” {Give me your pleasure, my love.} The heat pooled in her lower abdomen, growing fierce, her impending peak coursing through her. Holding Gil-galad’s head within her hands, she rocked her hips faster, a shattered cry escaping her mouth. Her back arched, and a quiet sob filled her throat. Gil-galad eased her through the aftershocks of her release, slowing his movements to gather all her arousal, not letting a drop go to waste and kissing her thighs, trailing along her hips up her body, peppering lovebites along her neck. Y/n wrapped her arms and legs around her husband’s body, breathing in his earthy scent. “I believe your talent with your mouth is arguing and commanding. But mayhaps this could be a close second.” She teased her husband, their lips meeting Gil-galad growled with his chest at his wife’s tease. “How dare you?” He gasped with a mock facial expression. Y/n gave a soft pout, her finger trailing along his bottom lip, catching the tip between his teeth. A mischievous glint caught in his dark eyes. Releasing her finger, he began to tug at the corset laces of her dress. “Well, in that case…” He sat back and unlaced her corset roughly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Raising a brow, he smiled down at his Queen, her eyes wide with anticipation. Swallowing nervously, her lips parted to allow a shaky breath to fall out. “I should show my wife what else my talented mouth can do.”

— 𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐨𝐡 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sauron watched the molten metals pour through the deep circular mould, his eyes analysing the measurements carefully. Balancing with the slight inclusion of mithril, the metal melted seamlessly into the combined metal to form the next ring. Celebrimbor sat beside his friend; his brows creased in curiosity as he watched Sauron create. “If I might be allowed to ask Annatar, this design is not for one of the seven rings, isn’t it?” Sauron smiled, shaking his head and holding the sheet of paper in his hand. “No, it is not. It’s a special ring, designed for only one person in mind.” He showed the elven smith. Celebrimbor admired the intricate details and the beautiful craftsmanship. Celebrimbor was blown away, and a smile appeared on the older elf’s face. “Might I ask also who this special ring is for?” Sauron looked at his friend, and a dreamy sigh fell from his parted mouth. “The most beautiful woman the Valar has graced me with. I intend to ask for her hand; I only pray she will say yes.” He gazed back into the pool of molten metals. Celebrimbor placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You truly love this woman, don’t you, Annatar? An emissary of the Valar fallen for a mortal.” Sauron nodded. “With all my heart and soul. Although in the Valar, we do not normalise love and lust physically, since my arrival, I have felt nothing but longing. And this woman, I cannot be without her. She is my light. The very reason for my existence. ” He expressed with a light laugh, resuming his work. Celebrimbor nodded silently, removing his hand from Sauron’s shoulder. “Well, I look forward to meeting this exceptional woman of yours. Do not be ailed, but I’m sure she will say yes.” Sauron watched the elven smith retire for the evening, the dark lord’s focus drawn back to the ring he was crafting.

Taking a small blade, he cut his palm, his black blood oozing to the surface of the fresh wound. “Za nazg symbolises izub prakhum, devotion, agh everlasting loyalty u the ash amirz holds izub hun agh soul. Let za nazg krimp to u izish as izg krimp to u myself. Za nazg creates a bond u entwine izubu shum beings sha for uluk eternity. Izg, sauron, will it sha uluk izub fuk within izish. For she shall be zo, agh izg shall be tob.” {This ring symbolises my love, devotion, and everlasting loyalty to the one who holds my heart and soul. Let this ring bind her to me as I bind her to myself. This ring creates a bond to entwine our very beings together for all eternity. I, Sauron, will it with all my power within me. For she shall be mine, and I shall be hers.} Sauron’s black speech echoed eerily in the forge his blood dripping into the melted metal, the slits in his eyes forming, the green faded, replaced with the burning colours of a roaring fire. Glancing down, Sauron gripped the mould with iron pliers and into the ring mould, the cold water surrounding it cooling the metal immediately as the silver band took shape. Eyeing the elegant ring within his fingers, he saw the smooth finish of the silver band glittering from the fire’s light. Placing it on the ring stand at his desk, Sauron walked onto the balcony; resting his hands on the ledge, he breathed slowly. “𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.” He murmured into the wind, carrying his voice, knowing it would reach her ears. He could sense the conflict in her heart; he was succeeding in his plan. When her King was fighting a losing battle, Sauron could almost feel guilty for him—𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲?

dt @dinsbeskar @notreallythatlost @ladyoflindon @justmasblack @louiselouve

[dinsbeskar]

Hey, I hope you're well! ~ Would you be able to post the order to read your story? 😊

Hello my love!! Yes I keep meaning to post a masterlist, I'm confusing myself at this point. I have it in chronological order on AO3, but here on tumblr, I've confused myself 😂 it's just because of when inspiration struck, I've ended up posting it out of order 🤦‍♀️

Wicked Game

The Number of the Beast

To Have and To Hold

Haunted

In the Dark of the Night

Evil Will Find Her

Two's Company

Subjugate the Devil (can actually be read whenever you fancy, slots in wherever)

You can read Subjugate whenever bc it's literally PWP, there's no plot in there at all 😂

[folkloregirll]

Thank you! 😊🔥

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Tides of fate (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which your newly returned husband is unsure of the path ahead, and the sea itself tries to deter you from the one you choose together

Warnings: evil!reader, smut (sneaky handjob in a public place, brief descriptions of p in v), probably inaccuracies of canon geography/lore to suit the fic, somewhat repentant Sauron stands a teeny tiny chance of being better but reader is an ‘I can make him worse’ kinda girl

Note: part of the evil!reader collection. If you’re new, reader has been married/soulbound to Sauron since before Adar killed him and infiltrated herself in Eregion as a smith while she waited for his return, but came to find him when his presence became strong enough through their bond again.

Mature content below the cut—minors DNI!!!

Halbrand.

Whilst the other passengers on the ship are asleep, he lies awake with his new name and his new face, heading into what is to be a new life. He has yet to decide whether it should be different from the one before, but one thing he knows beyond all certainty—you shall be by his side, body and soul, until existence itself is no more.

You lie in his arms as he sits reclined against a pile of cargo, with your head resting upon his heart. Even aslumber, you seem to cling to him, your fingers ever so slightly curled in the ragged shirt he wears. Halbrand himself refrains from tightening his hold around your waist to the point where he might wake you, and contents himself only with soft caresses of your hair as he cradles you close. Weeks after you had nursed him back to his solid form, there are still times when you feel you must convince yourselves that you are together once more, and the long wait is over.

It had taken a while for the frenzy to pass, once he had been remade. For his newly woven flesh to find relief, if only in part, from the yearning with which it burned for yours.

The first time he’d had you in this body is a blur in his mind, nothing left of it but white-hot flashes of rampant breathing, wails and growls, skin slapping against skin. No sooner had he breathed the air into his new lungs than he had claimed your mouth, fell with you to the ground on the very spot where his new feet had first touched it, and begged to have his wife. A beast rutting into his mate in the snow is what he had been reduced to. On an open trail, beneath the open sky, he had ploughed into you with wild abandon, searing the pleasure of every thrust into his soul as if it would be the last he ever tastes.

He had not known, when last you had been by his side before Adar’s betrayal, that you would be out of his reach for centuries to come, that the very memory of his beloved’s embrace would slip from his grasp with the long years, sunk into the black depths of a rudimentary shape which had forgotten what it was to feel at all. And so the moment he had at last regained a form that could, he had grasped, seized, clawed the feeling of being one with you back into himself.

And you had sunk your nails into his new flesh, christened it with scratches, marking it as yours. He remembers your tight heat, your shrill moans, your tears as you begged him for more, even after your peak. He remembers his frustrated curses when his fresh, tragically human form had softened beyond his control after spilling inside you only once, and your sweet laugh in his ear, nowhere near judgmental as you reassured him that with time, his Maia prowess shall return to spare him such tedious whims of a mortal’s flesh.

“You are still extraordinary, my love,” you had praised with an adoring nibble of his humanly round ear. “A true mortal man as starved as you would not have even made it all the way inside.”

It was, perhaps, for the best. For you might have fucked the very life out of yourself on his cock in those first few days, if not for the occasional need for respite. His partial oblivion, though nothing short of agonizing, had stripped him, at times, of the knowledge of what he was missing. Your longing for your husband had shredded your heart through every single moment of the centuries you had been apart, vivid as ever in your mind and soul. The hollow in your bond had never subsided into anything less than a freshly severed limb, forever bleeding from an open wound. The only reason you had not withered away was that last glimmer of feeling, barely there but undeniably real, that your husband had not passed beyond your reach completely and forever.

For weeks you had remained in those woods, unwilling to do anything but be together. Even if you weren’t making love, you were hardly ever not touching, and it cost you even to pry yourselves away to hunt or gather wood—an effort that much greater since his prowess did gradually return, as you had been most certain that it would.

As you lay in his arms, you spoke to him of the world, all the ways it had changed and all the ways it had not. The dealings of Elves, Dwarves and Men nowadays. The life you had secured for yourself in Eregion, the opportunities it held. A power over flesh. All it did was remind him of the last words he had spoken to Adar’s wretched Orcs before they had butchered him, and the only power he found himself craving was that of feeling your flesh, beneath, against and around his. And you were oh so willing to grant it to him.

The last night before your voyage, you had looked so beautiful, bathed in moonlight and the warm glow of the fire beside you as you rode your husband slowly, savouring every drag of his cock within you. He sat up, holding you close, watching in awe as you took what you needed, and gave him all he craved. His tears do not spill easily, but they had burned behind his eyes as you threw back your head and cried out your release, bringing forth his own. You were everything. His wife. His soul.

His Queen.

He had once sworn he would not rest until the whole of Middle-Earth had been brought to its knees to worship the pair of you, side by side. That nothing less would ever be enough.

Lying beside you by the fire, he was not so certain anymore.

“My love,” he had whispered as you ran your fingers through his unruly hair, “where do you wish to go?”

It was the first time either of you had spoken of your heading, rather than acting as though where you were now was all there was.

You had frowned ever so slightly, as though surprised he even had to ask, and murmured, “With you.”

The following morning, you began your journey. Eregion was your destination, as you had anticipated all throughout his long absence. To follow his weak presence through your bond and find him in Forodwaith, you had left your false life with the Elves claiming to be visiting distant kin. He had yet to spin a tale justifying his joining you upon your return, and he found it more difficult than usual to do so when he didn’t seem to be sure of his goal once you had reached the Elven kingdom. You noticed, of course, but kept your mind at a thoughtful distance, knowing he would speak his in his own time.

When a group of Men crossed your path, it was the first time since his return that you were in the presence of others. With the bit of shape-shifting ability received from your husband upon the forging of your bond, you had made the pointed tips of your ears recede into a round shape to match your husband’s current one. You were to pass as human travellers, unworthy of a second glance.

But an old man, whose name Halbrand had later learned to be Diarmid, halted to inform you of the danger ahead. You must have spent longer in Forodwaith than you thought, for you had not encountered the armies of Orcs described by Diarmid when you had come seeking your husband. The man had spoken of embracing the uncertain tides of fate in hopes of a brighter future—a sentiment embodied, in his view, by a piece of heraldry he wore which had belonged to kings long gone, whose mighty path had crumbled as easily as a less fortunate one might prove to lead into a better place.

This belief of the man touched something in Halbrand, birthed a dim spark of a feeling akin to hope. You, on the other hand, did not seem as affected by his words, or his warm invitation for you and your husband to join his people on their intended voyage to a new life across the sea. No sooner had he moved on than you began to scheme.

“A symbol of royalty with no one left to claim it? That might prove useful,” you said under your breath as the two of you remained standing by the passing group of Men. “We could take it, and their ship. Sail to Lindon instead of risking a run-in with Orcs on the way to Eregion. I have quite enough connections there as well.”

You didn’t need to speak the details for him to know the exact intent behind your words. He was stronger in his power now than he had been when this body was fresh, and you were a force to be reckoned with yourself. The two of you fighting as one could cut through the humans like butter, leaving only enough to man the ship to your desired destination under your forceful command. It would have been easy enough, nothing you hadn’t done before.

“Or perhaps we might sail with them,” Halbrand suggested instead, driven by a sudden impulse.

“Into the West?” you asked quizzically, trying to figure out a purpose of which he was not sure himself. “Is there something you wish to achieve in Númenor, or thereabouts?”

“What I wish,” he said, meeting your eyes, “is for you to come with me.”

Like you’d said you would.

And you did. With but a curious look and a slight furrow of your brow, you placed your hand in his and joined him on this new path, though neither of you was sure where it would lead.

After the weeks—or had it been months?—spent in a near perpetual embrace in the wilderness, the lack of privacy on the ship proved quite the challenge. For plain communication, your bond would have sufficed, but even there a certain veil of concealment had fallen between you. For the more you began to suspect where his intentions might be straying, the less eager you were to breach the subject.

But you hardly ever left one another’s side, and spent each night in the closest embrace appropriate to the rather crowded circumstances, as you are doing now. He never sleeps, and pretending to do so would be a most tedious chore for the sake of avoiding suspicion, if it weren’t for his wife nestled comfortably within his arms. Some nights, however, he finds himself too deep in troubled thoughts for his eyes to remain closed, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Nightmares again?” Diarmid questions, lifting his head from his own makeshift pillow closeby. He lowers his eyes to you as he says with a knowing lilt, “One would think such a warm embrace can bring peace to even the most troubled of minds.”

His remark lacks any trace of envy, his gaze on you admiring without coveting, and so Halbrand is not enraged by either. He looks down, his eyes following the soft trails drawn by his fingers as they caress your hair.

“She is all the peace I know,” he murmurs.

“But you are haunted still.”

His fingers halt, resting upon your head.

“I’ve done evil,” he confesses. We have done evil, would be the more truthful statement. But so charming and joyful you had made yourself appear to your fellow passengers, he would be taken for a liar. He can only imagine how loved you are in Eregion—how loved you would be anywhere.

“All of us have done things that we care not to admit,” Diarmid replies, seemingly unfazed by Halbrand’s grim admission. How naïve for a mortal man of his age, the Maia thinks, to so easily give the benefit of his doubt to a near stranger.

“Not like I have,” he presses on. What is the purpose of this conversation, he wonders? To test whether he would be cast out? To hear the man lie again, that there is another path for him than that of suffering he has known so far?

Is that a lie?

Diarmid ponders his words. “Your wife,” he says then, as if in answer to his inner musings. “How did you come to be wed?”

You had maintained that much truth in your façade, for obvious reasons. It is a piece of truth Halbrand reveals now as well.

“We were undone,” he says in a dark rasp, “and we remade ourselves by swallowing each other whole.”

A hoarse chuckle escapes the old man. “What a way you have with words, lad. Isn’t that a most dreary manner of saying you have healed one another?” When Halbrand looks at him, guarded, he thankfully knows better than to insist upon the details. “And she knows of this... evil you say you have done?”

Halbrand gives a nod.

“And yet,” Diarmid says, voice softening with a kind of wise tenderness, “she looks at you as though you hold the very sun above her head in the palm of your hand.”

A most uninspired metaphor. Sunlight had become too bright for your eyes, after years spent in the dark heat of Morgoth’s fortress. You do not thrive in it, but rather under grey skies, with cold air caressing your cheeks. But the sentiment he means to express is perfectly true.

“And it is plain to see,” Diarmid adds, “that you love her a great deal as well.”

There is not a single false word in that sentence. You give the lightest stir in your husband’s arms, softly nuzzling his shirt in your sleep, and Halbrand, Sauron, Mairon—everything and everyone he had ever been burns with adoration as he holds you just that little bit closer.

“You cannot imagine,” he murmurs, with nearly as raw a sincerity as only you can draw from him.

Diarmid laughs warmly. “Oh, I can, lad,” he says with a trace of wistfulness. “I can.”

His eyes drift to the distance, as he no doubt remembers some past love of his. And a great one it may have been, but he shall never know what it is to bind his very soul with another’s, to be so inextricably intertwined as the pair of you have made yourselves to be.

Halbrand says nothing, leaving the old man to his imaginings. But Diarmid soon returns from them, and gives his supposed younger a sage look.

“So, you see,” he goes on, “whatever you’ve done in your past, she has forgiven it. Now, you must find forgiveness within yourself. You are alive, holding the woman you love in your arms, because you have chosen good.”

“What of tomorrow?” Halbrand asks, almost a challenge.

“You have to choose it again.” Diarmid gives a small chuckle, as though the answer is most obvious. “And the next day, and the next, until it becomes a part of your nature.”

His nature. Good had been his nature. Once.

He wonders, had you met him as Mairon, whether your souls would still be as one now. Whether you might have lived as Melian and Thingol did, rulers over a kingdom of light, protectors against Morgoth’s darkness rather than partial cause of its spread.

But it feels like a betrayal to imagine a love any different than the one he has known with you, even if it’s still a version of you with whom he contemplates such a thing. Because in the end, it would not be you. Morgoth had stripped you of the Elf you had been as brutally as he had disposed of the once Mairon, though with the Maia, he had made the pain seem so much sweeter in the beginning. You had not fallen in love with songs and poems, with you dancing in a field of flowers and him finding himself struck dumb by your beauty. Your bond had been forged in the hottest and cruellest of flames, and was all the stronger for it. This all-consuming passion, this ruthless obsession of yours, which scorches everything and everyone in its path—nothing less would ever suffice.

Seeing that Halbrand has become lost in thought upon hearing his words, Diarmid gives him one last friendly smile and pat upon his shoulder, then turns away to settle back to sleep. Not long after, quiet snores begin to leave him.

That is when you give a light hum, and shift so that your cheek rests on your husband’s shoulder and your eyes meet.

“What a way you have with words, lad,” you tease softly.

The slightest smile tugs at Halbrand’s lips. “It isn’t proper to eavesdrop.”

“It seemed as though you were having a moment.” Your teasing smile dims as you add, even more quietly, “It seemed as though you wanted it.”

You bring your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb through the light stubble that now adorns it. You seem to like this form of his, imperfectly human as it is, and nothing pleases him quite like pleasing you. His eyes fall shut as he leans into your touch, taking your wrist in a gentle hold and pressing his lips to the palm of your beloved hand.

“My love...” he begins, but you rest your fingertips upon his mouth.

“I know.” You sigh, letting your hand fall back to his chest. “I know. You’ve been... different, since you have returned. Not only in body. After all this time, what you have endured... I know you are faltering. That you lack direction.”

“And yet you followed me blindly.”

“Always,” you smile, though it’s short-lived. “But... if forgiveness is what you seek... from them...” Your brow creases, voice becoming pained as you lift your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze properly. “My love, we have been here once before.”

“I know,” he says firmly, wrapping your hand in his. “I would not take such a risk again.”

Like he did at the end of the First Age. When, in the wake of Morgoth’s defeat, he’d had a mind to seek pardon from the Valar rather than await their retribution. He had witnessed their might as they decimated his master’s dark forces, and Sauron himself now lacked an army with which to retaliate, should they seek him out. All he had was you, and in his wish to keep you, and in the haze of his new-found freedom from Morgoth’s clenched fist, he had entertained the thought that perhaps the Valar might consider your union, a defiance of Morgoth in itself, to be proof of your renouncing his authority even since before his defeat. Surely, they could be persuaded that all, or at least most of your vile deeds, had been for the sake of each other, to spare your beloved from Morgoth’s wrath. And to a certain extent, it was true.

But the opposite happened. The Valar had deemed your bond unnatural, volatile, forged in too deep a darkness to be anything but a force of destruction. If you truly wished to be pardoned, you were to allow it to be undone. He was to return to Valinor whilst you remained in Middle-Earth, serving to rebuild what Morgoth had destroyed until you had proven beyond doubt you had put your foul ways behind you. Only then would you be allowed passage into the West to be rejoined with your husband, should your love endure such prolonged distance and transformation from the beings you had been when you met.

Servitude would already have been nigh impossible to swallow. But separation—that was unfathomable. It was cruelty beyond imagining, from beings who had the audacity to claim they were righteous and fair. You and your husband had been left with no choice, then, but to seek out a power which would make you gods in your own right. Power over flesh, power over Middle-Earth.

Separation came anyway, only in a different form, the path you had most wanted to evade forced upon you by Adar’s treachery instead of the Valar’s so-called justice. But as great a blow as it might have been, the aftershocks of it spanning over so much time, it didn’t break either of you beyond repair. As Sauron, he has known many setbacks, failures, betrayals. He is not afraid. Even when he sought pardon before, he tells himself, he was being cautious, practical.

But he is, perhaps... tired. So tired.

“You told me you have no wish to return to your life with the Elves,” he breaks the silence you had let fall between you, patiently awaiting the further words you sensed he had to say. “Númenor is said to be a paradise, ripe with opportunity. A smith of great skill and his equally gifted wife are most likely to thrive in such a place.”

Though he speaks in statements, you hear the question they conceal. You had long suspected he had been harbouring such thoughts, and your eyes shift uneasily upon hearing them.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought of it,” you confess in the end. “That perhaps we might simply... be together, as so many others are, and that would be enough. But even if we could find it in ourselves to put Middle-Earth behind us and let Adar go unpunished for what he did...” Your hand grips his painfully as you shut your eyes for a moment, striving not to raise your voice above a tense whisper. “I cannot bear to live in fear any longer. Wondering whether or not the Valar will finally deem us worthy or harmless enough to leave us be. Seeking to appease a higher power whose breath is constantly at the back of my neck even when I cannot see it, like... like he was. Is that not why we put such thoughts aside before, and sought to claim the power that we did? To gain control, bring about a new order—our order?” You lean in closer, the despair in your eyes giving way to determination as you stare into his with each and every searing word. “You know we are meant to be more than this. The Valar may not favour us, but fate does. It’s why our paths crossed in the first place, and why we found our way back to each other time and again, despite Morgoth, and Adar, and all who would have seen us apart. It’s why we will prevail.”

It’s so taxing, keeping the intensity of your words’ sentiment quiet, that the release comes in the form of tears slipping from your eyes. Your husband’s brow creases, leaving your hand to lie upon his quickening heart as he cups both of your cheeks.

“All this time...” he whispers, thumbs brushing your tears like they are priceless gems, “all these centuries, you have kept your faith in our vision. In us.”

He knows all too well how strong you are, how ruthless in your resolve, but sometimes, the sheer might of your devotion to him still knocks the breath from his lungs.

A teary chuckle escapes you. “Had you not spent all those centuries as a barely sentient liquid, I’m sure you’d have done the same. Not to mention,” you add, seeking to lighten the mood with a touch of coyness, “you promised me a crown, my love. And I shall not let you rest until you have put it upon my head, and I have known what it is to be a true Queen, worshipped by all beings,” you lean so that your lips ghost over his as you whisper alluringly, “and by her King most ardently of all.”

He gives in with a subdued groan, catches your lips in a fleeting kiss—then presses a thumb to the soft flesh beneath your chin to better his hold on you and keep you at bay.

“My love,” he rasps out in warning, eyes roving over your face, “do not tempt me so when I cannot have you as I please.”

A wicked smile spreads across your lips, and your softly-spoken words are the sweetest siren song, calling him to his doom. “You can have me, my love. We can have anything we wish.” Your hand begins a most audacious journey down his chest and along his tensing stomach, disappearing beneath the blanket covering the both of you above the waist. “They are nothing,” you go on, nimbly working open his trousers. “What they see, what they think of us now, will be nothing once we have brought them under our rule.”

Even with the blanket covering you, if someone were to look closely, they would likely be able to discern the precise location and intent of your hand. Quite frankly, Halbrand cannot bring himself to care if they did notice either, not when his wife takes his flesh in a nearly cruel grip. His cock grows and hardens in helpless answer to your beckoning, and this, he thinks for the one thousandth time, is the sole kind of helplessness which sets his blood aboil with desire rather than rage. It takes but a few strokes, dry and curt, and he is swollen, aching, the veins in his neck straining as he bites back a growl.

As for you, it’s a struggle not to rub yourself against his leg like a warg in heat. But it is his pleasure you wish to achieve, not your own. You press your lips to those captivating lines of tension on his neck, and swipe a thumb over the tip of him to find it wet. He remains discreet in sound, if not in expression, but you feel the spike of his pleasure through your bond as you keep caressing that most sensitive part of his cock. All of a sudden, his hand is at the back of your neck, and he pulls you down so that your cheek is pushed into his chest, his chin resting the slightest bit too heavily upon your head. Like this, you feel his rampant heartbeat, his ragged breathing, the tremors you send throughout his body with each and every stroke of his length.

It’s an illusion of control, he knows, crushing you to his chest whilst the heart within it contorts and threatens to unspool back into a pile of black slime, taken apart by your words and touch. He lets you break from his hold the moment you rebel out of it, and plant your chin upon his shoulder.

“I kept my faith, because I could see us,” you whisper, your hot breath in his ear plunging straight to his cock as you pump him into a silent frenzy. “I can see what we will become, and it is so... so beautiful. Do you see us, love?” you all but whimper, as though your words alone bring you as much pleasure as the glide of his length within your fist does him. “Can you see your Queen, spread upon our throne... wearing nothing but the jewels you have given me and the crown upon my head... as your tongue swears fealty between my legs? Can you see me do the same, on my knees before my Lord and King?”

Oh, he can. So many times he’s had you, in so many ways, but the thought of you worshipping each other whilst you are being worshipped across all of Middle-Earth, taking pleasure in one another as well as the symbols of your power... That had always wrought a particular kind of havoc upon his loins, proportionate in might to the high brought by the prospect of victory in itself. And you know that damn well, as well as all the right ways to caress and graze and squeeze and knead to play his body like a harp into the very melody you wish to elicit, regardless of the form he takes, for you might as well be nestled beneath his skin, living and breathing among the strings you so deftly pluck with your ruinous fingertips. Your touch, your words, moulding his mind as you please—is this what one feels like, he wonders, when Sauron the Deceiver slithers his way into their unsuspecting thoughts?

But this is no deceit. This is his wife, his soul, reminding him of his true self, just as you did when you first found what had been left of him in Forodwaith, and put him back together. His hips jerk into the movements of your hand, seeking you out, uncaring of the people who might wake and see him being undone by your touch. You are right. They are nothing. You are all there is, and all there ever shall be.

You chuckle as he chases his breath, and bite his earlobe—hard. It may not be the sensitive tip of an Elf’s pointed ear, but the jolt of pain lights a fire beneath his skin that scorches everything in its path, and no amount of control over his form could have prevented him from spilling his seed right there and then. The growl he lets loose would have surely roused those sleeping closest by, if not for your sudden grip on his throat and lips covering his, swallowing his rough breaths. He spills and spills as you stroke him through his release, until the exquisite throbbing in his cock has finally run its most fulfilling course.

To think there was a time he knew not what it was to crave another, nor did he care to know—and then he had known you. The pleasure of his flesh might as well have your initials engraved into it.

You loosen your grip on his throat as you break the kiss, and that hand goes instead to tenderly brush a lock of dark hair from his temple. You seem awfully pleased with yourself when he opens his eyes into yours, and he doesn’t shy away from admitting that you very well should be. The hand with which you had pleasured him emerges from beneath the blanket with his spent glistening on your fingers, and you hold his gaze as you rest the digits on his bottom lip. The tip of his tongue darts out slightly, tasting what you have done to him. What you always do. He wraps his lips around your fingers, scrapes them lightly with his teeth, and something softens in your eyes.

“I want more,” you whisper, nothing short of a goddess reduced to her most vulnerable self. “I want everything. But I need only for you to want me.”

His new heart lurched in his chest. As if he could ever stop. As if there could ever be more, be anything, if there was no you and him.

He knows much better than to take your words as an admittance of defeat, however. If he truly were to demand that you renounce your aspirations, you would be furious. You would fight and fuck him in every way you could think of to change his mind, but you would follow him wherever he went. As he would you. There is no such thing as choosing to leave one another’s side, unless you have reason to believe that your temporary separation shall serve to make you all the more fruitful in your shared endeavours upon your reunion.

Your shared endeavours is what they still are. What they always have been. He sees that now, clearer than ever.

Having released your fingers, his mouth claims yours in a bruising kiss. You moan into it, too loud, too desperate, but neither of you cares. He truly abandons all caution, pulling you into his lap by your waist, and you grind your clothed core into his newly hardening cock as soon as you are astride him, and damn these people, damn your ruse, he is going to have you, fully and unrestrained, right here in their midst. It matters not, for most will be dead soon either way. For you will take the ship for yourselves, just like you first suggested, and sail back to Middle-Earth to claim it as your own. And he means to tell you this whilst you ride him, just as you are reaching your peak, and send you careening into it with this sweetest promise like you had done him—

Something’s wrong. Even in the heat of passion he feels it, and every muscle in his body stiffens. You break away at once, alarmed by his alarm.

“Hold on to me,” is all the warning he has time to give you.

Not a soul on the ship remains asleep when it takes the first hit, water flooding into the hull through shattered wood. It’s everywhere, bursting through holes in the walls and pouring down the stairs from the deck, and you barely manage to scramble to your feet before the next blow lands, and the next. You do try to keep your grip on each other, but end up bracing yourselves against the pile of cargo on which you had been resting so you don’t get knocked off your feet. At the very least, he manages to hastily refasten his trousers. Not that anyone would care if they caught a glimpse of a man’s privates at a time like this—but in his flailing circumstances, it isn’t quite the power move it would have been if he were shamelessly buried to the hilt inside you for all to see.

“Was that—?”

“Yes,” he answers you gruffly. “Sea worm.”

“Is that a problem?” you ask urgently, ever so pragmatic even as your chest heaves through the sudden panic.

He isn’t sure. He feels recovered enough, but he can’t say whether his ability to sway the creature’s mind is good as new until he’s come face to face with it. He’s about to go and find out, when a voice screams, “Help me!”

It’s Diarmid who cried out, trapped beneath a wooden beam that had collapsed upon him. Bleeding from a head wound, he looks to Halbrand in despair. No one else even stops to look, the other passengers scurrying around in a frenzy, as if there is anywhere to run.

Halbrand and you make no move. Your gazes meet as you wait with bated breath for his choice, even in the midst of chaos.

Whatever you’ve done in your past, she has forgiven it.

If anything, you should forgive him for ever faltering in his resolve. There is no such thing as a man called Halbrand, or as you and him disappearing in the crowd. You shall be everywhere, standing above everything and everyone, as you were always meant to.

He leans over Diarmid, grabbing hold of the fallen beam atop him—only to snatch the pouch bearing a king’s symbol from his neck, the Maia’s pitiless eyes staring into the man’s terrified ones. He turns to the beautiful sight of your smile, proud and relieved, and a smirk blooms on his own lips. Screams fill the ship as it is ripped to shreds, but you put your hand in his and pull him towards the deck with an exhilarated “Come on!”, and for a moment he suspects this feeling in his chest might be akin to what a young man would experience, if he were being whisked into the unknown by a rebellious first love.

And like the folly of such youth, it doesn’t last. Your hand slips from his as the ship falls apart, swallowed whole by the ocean, and he is submerged into an underwater field of shattered woods and floating bodies. He has lost you from his sight, but he knows you’re alive. He knows he is still lord over beasts as well, when the sea worm obeys the command in his eyes and abandons its attack, swimming away. Perhaps the effort of imposing his will on such a great creature is still too taxing. Perhaps that’s why the pulse of your life is as vivid as ever within your bond, but feels further away. The water is dark, and you are strong—he feels is. You are soon to surface.

But when he emerges from the sea, grabbing hold of a floating piece of wood, you are nowhere in sight.

He waits. Waits, then dives back in.

The bodies he finds are all corpses.

You are alive.

But you are gone.

His scream is lost in the black depths of the sea.

*****

As soon as you break through the surface, gasping for air, you know something is terribly amiss.

For one, there is no one in sight. No ship, no people, no sea worm. Then, there is the rising sun, when moments ago it had been little past midnight, and land in sight when you had been most certain you were in the middle of the sea. And most poignant of all, there is distance—great and sudden, between you and your husband.

He is well, though, and even more so now that he has felt you reaching out to him. The spark of relief echoing through your bond is the only reason you do not immediately despair. You have an inkling of what might have occurred. But you save your energy for swimming towards the distant shore, channeling your ire into each kick of the water.

How do the Valar expect you to renounce your bitterness towards them, when they do their very best to fuel it with every given occasion?

*****

He breathes easy at last. He had known you were alive all along, but the gnawing emptiness where your consciousness should have been had not ceased to churn within his chest until he’d felt you, aware and present in your bond once more.

For you to have drifted away, so quickly and so far... it was no natural occurrence.

There’s a presence he’d felt. A watching. Sickly familiar, and he knows not how, but—they knew. Perhaps you had invoked them one too many times, and Ulmo himself had reached out with a watery tendril of his power to snatch you from your husband’s reach. Whether in punishment or warning, it matters not. For in his haste to part you, the Vala had failed to prevent a great opportunity from landing right into his great enemy’s lap—or rather, swimming her way onto his raft.

Galadriel.

He knows her name. How could he not? Sister of Finrod, daughter of Finarfin. A mighty Elven warrior, hailed as the fairest of Elven women, the very light of the Trees of Valinor supposedly snared in her tresses. It’s hard to tell, with her golden hair soaked and clinging to her shoulders. But her beauty concerns him little. Once he has taken Middle-Earth, he thinks, he shall have the tongue of any being who dares suggest another might be fairer than his Queen.

You’ve reached the shore, he senses, back in Middle-Earth. To Galadriel, he speaks half-truths of hateful Orcs that chased him from his homeland, but within himself, he smiles. So, they dare not kill you, still, especially after they were proven right to hesitate in doing so before—when the Orcs had robbed him of his form, his power had burst from the remains of him with such anguished fury, Forodwaith had been reduced to an icy wasteland. Should your bond be severed as violently, there is no telling what horrors that gaping wound might unleash. The Valar have revealed their fear once more, and it serves to remind him why the two of you have nothing to fear.

You were right, my love, he thinks. The message may not reach you word for word, but he knows it will be crystal clear in your mind. Though some may seek to part us, the tides of fate are flowing ever in our favour. Make for Eregion. Await me there. I shall return to you soon, having made great progress towards our end.

From you, there comes the anger and the grief of your parting, which he shares—but stronger than that is your faith in him, further solidified by his determination.

“Around your neck,” Galadriel says. “Is that the mark of your people’s king?”

She had noticed, then. He’d been careful to fiddle with it earlier, tucking it into his shirt when she thought he hadn’t seen her scrutinizing him. You had been right, of course—that pouch would prove useful, after all.

Thank you, my love, he thinks fondly to you. For reminding me who I am. Who we are.

Your devotion caresses his soul, and the Deceiver begins to worm his way into an unsuspecting mind once more.

Previous fic with same reader -> Remade

Next fic with same reader -> Reunion

[little-diable]

Bound in Eternity - Halbrand/Sauron (smut)

This obsession isn't fading, but I ain't sorry, y'all will have to endure this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Once wed, once forced apart by Adar's betrayal, and now their paths cross again - all while he is fighting side by side with an elf that looks at him as if they are soulbound.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, public, jealousy, choking, possessiveness, some degrading

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x fem!reader (2.3k words)

At first it felt as if she was dreaming. A restless dream that would haunt her for centuries to come. A darkening dream that would force her to doubt everything she had clung to ever since their paths had been forced to part. Centuries that have turned into a cloud of confusing smoke, too thick for her to see through it.

But the tip of the sword felt too cold, too sharp to be a mere imagination of her racing mind. This wasn’t a dream, this was all but a dream, reality had caught up with her, drawing her towards the battle where she could feel him close.

Him. The one she had been bound to ever since she could remember. Him. The one who had always held her heart in his hands, careful not to crush it even as darkness had begun to poison every vein, every inch of his frame. Him. The one she had longed to feel close again ever since Adar’s betrayal.

Hope was flickering in her eyes, she had changed her frame just like he had, finding a new body to house her soul for the time being. A frame he seemed to find himself confused by, not reacting to the way her soul tried to reach for his, desperate to let their powers intertwine once again. But something seemed to hold him back, something that left a bitter aftertaste on (y/n)’s tongue while studying the unreadable expression tugging on his new handsome features.

“Who is she to you?” His eyes flickered from hers to Adar’s, the one she didn’t dare to look at, knowing that she’d fight against every sword for the mere chance to kill him. She’d burn Middle Earth to the ground for a chance to pierce her sword through his skin, robbing him of his life just like he had tried to rob the life of her lover.

“I don’t know her.” She couldn’t stop a huff from leaving her, forcing her lover’s eyes back to her. (Y/n) was close to murmuring his name, but the presence of the elf held her back, the golden haired warrior who looked at her lover with something making (y/n)’s insides churn in disgust and jealousy. The elf spoke something to him, but she couldn’t listen, not when she tried to make herself familiar with his new appearance, the slightly unruly look that seemed to perfectly fit him.

His eyes found hers again as he sheathed his sword before reaching for her arm to pull her to her feet. A fire spread through her the second he touched her, something he must have felt too judging by the momentary recognition flushing through his eyes. They kept holding eye contact as the elf reached for Adar, binding his arms to drag him with her. A soft smile managed to break out on (y/n)’s lips, she fought against the need to reach for his bearded cheek, to let her skin meet his again like it had last done on that forsaken morning before he had been ripped from her side.

For a second, a darkening grin widened on his lips, a grin that made her breath hitch in her chest. He tightened his grip on her while moving towards his horse, wordlessly helping her into the saddle before placing himself behind her. His arm found its way around her waist, pushing her back against his armoured chest before dipping his head down to let his breath fan over (y/n)’s neck, “I feared you may have forgotten about me, sweetling, but I should have known that our bond will survive even the furthest distances.”

Goosebumps rose on her skin, perfectly matching the heat spreading through her body. She couldn’t reply, not when the elf looked back at them for a moment before leading them down the forest path, but the way she squeezed his hand seemed to be enough for him for now.

…

“Halbrand, what a strange name to choose.”

Her voice had a teasing touch to it, drawing him closer as they stood near the shed the elf had dragged Adar into seconds ago. His eyes burned holes into her skin, leaving a fiery trail as he cupped her cheek, letting his calloused thumb stroke her skin.

“And what should I call you now, sweetling?” His voice dropped lower with every spoken syllable, undoubtedly feeling the same pull in his chest. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his lips pressed against hers, but something seemed to hold him back, something having to do with that elf (y/n) struggled to look at for longer than a handful of seconds.

“I haven’t chosen a different name yet, Mairon.” The growl leaving him drew a whine out of (y/n), she needed to feel him closer, desperate to taste him again just like she had longed for all those centuries.

“The elf, Galadriel, is a worthy asset in our game, I fear you need to put your trust in me once more.” Confusion pushed through (y/n), forcing her eyebrows to furrow while looking up at him. He let go of her before another word could leave her, forced to look at Galadriel reemerging from the shed.

He left her side to speak to the elf, murmuring words (y/n) couldn’t understand. Anger began to simmer inside of her, anger directed at her lover who hadn’t even kissed her yet after all those years apart, at the elf who seemed to pull him into her trap all too easily, at herself for falling for his game yet again. But no matter how much she wanted to rip herself free, she couldn’t leave his side again - not after only being reunited moments ago.

“Speak, what’s your name?” Galadriel had her eyes directed on (y/n), waiting for her to find her words again as she fought against the lump in her throat. For a second, she let her gaze find his, hoping to find something swimming in his pupils to direct her path, but he didn’t give her anything. Nothing but the grin she had once found herself obsessing over.

“(Y/n),” it was a simple reply, a reply that left him tensing while the elf only nodded her head. It had been centuries since he had last heard her name being spoken out loud - only he had allowed himself to call it out loud when lust overcame him, the simple pleasure mankind seemed to ache for as if it was the air they needed to breathe. But his longings for her had always been stronger than his arrogance, allowing him to let go of any darkening thoughts while fucking his hand to the thought of her.

“Do you know how to wield a sword?” Galadriel’s eyes didn’t leave hers once, a gaze filled with uncertainties and confusions. (Y/n) only nodded her head as she could watch a smirk widen on her lover's lips. Perhaps her return had been just what he needed, another asset in fooling the elf who looked at him as if he had placed every single star on the night sky himself.

“Good, you’ll come with us.” Wordlessly the elf turned away from them, not picking up on the sight of Halbrand and (y/n) grinning at one another with darkness swimming in their pupils. A darkness that forced lust through their veins, a longing both seemed to share as he positioned himself behind her on the saddle once more.

For a second, time seemed to stand still as he whispered to her in the language others feared, the black speech both had shared all those centuries ago. His longing for her was clear, as was hers while she pressed herself back against his chest, unable to bite down a soft whimper as his words kept teasing her. Her whimper turned into a gasp as he suddenly led the horse into a different direction, away from Galadriel who seemed to be oblivious to what was happening.

Trees blurred past them, putting more and more distance between them and the elf. And then the horse came to a sudden halt, almost throwing her off the saddle had it not been for the strong arm he’d wrapped around her waist. Wordlessly he helped her back down, feet meeting the ground before she found herself pressed against the nearest tree.

And then their lips met, finally, after all those years apart. He still tasted the same, of loving and a home others would curse but she had always been aching for. The kiss wasn’t soft nor was it sweet, their teeth clashed, their tongues got tangled while his impatient hands toyed with the lacing of her trousers. Heavy pants left them both, urged on by their longings and the need to unite their bodies once more.

“Tell me, did you let another touch you?” Anger simmered inside of her, a sensation so strong, it allowed her to switch places with him, pushing her lover against the tree while her hands worked on his armour to free his aching cock. He stared down at her, hairs falling into his forehead, eyes growing darker with lust.

“Do you think so little of me, Mairon? I’ve endured centuries without a single touch while all I could long for was your closeness.” A satisfied hum left her lover, eyes momentarily fluttering close as he felt her hands wrapped around him, touching him just like he had touched himself days ago to the thought of her. He felt heavy in her hand, leaving her walls clenching around nothing at the thought of him “But what about you? Did your game ask you to bed the elf? She looks at you as if you’re soulbound.”

A raspy chuckle left him, a sound that only agitated her further. His cold hand found (y/n)’s warm cheek, forcing her to keep looking at him even as he pushed her hand away. Wordlessly he turned them around again, with his hand finding its rest on her throat he kept her held in place, “Perhaps I have, perhaps I’ve fucked her to blindside her, you always knew of the sacrifices we had to make.”

She knew that he was lying, set on pushing her further into her anger to heighten her senses, and yet she couldn’t stop the curses rolling off her tongue, words in the black speech he cut off with his hand adding more pressure to her throat. Her eyes grew wider as she felt his cock near her entrance, coating himself in her slick before he finally pushed into her.

The second he pushed into her she could have sworn she felt the ground shaking, an eruption so strong it buzzed through her body. But the smirk lingering on her lover’s lips was enough to keep her focused on him.

He fucked (y/n) against the tree, hard, fast, set on leaving bruises to make up for all those lost centuries. Barely any air managed to flood through her lungs, just enough to leave her trembling against him while choking on his name, “I’ve almost forgotten how being buried inside of you feels like, no matter which form we take on, we’re always made to fit, sweetling.”

The words were unusually soft, leaving her brows to furrow while she felt the air around them growing heavier. Something was happening in the Southlands, but she didn’t dare give in to any distraction while her lover finally fucked her again, “You’re taking me so well, fuck, I should have known that all those years wouldn’t change your hunger for me, you’ll always be a cock hungry whore for me.”

“Fuck you,” she spat the words against his lips, a mere whisper and yet just enough to make him raise his brows in mock surprise. His thrusts grew rougher, drawing whines out of her as she felt her orgasm creeping closer and closer. He dipped his head down to kiss her throat, letting his beard scratch her skin while his hand let go of her, only to find her pulsing bundle.

“Beg for it.” It was a simple, rasped command, enough to make her see stars while she could taste her release on the tip of her tongue. For a moment, his thrusts grew slower, dragging out the moment as she searched for her voice. “Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you dumb, you poor thing. Let me hear your voice.”

“Please, Mairon, let me cum.” A sob left (y/n), blurry gaze focused on his features. Darkness seeped out of his every pore, shadows wrapping themselves around the two, all while another hum left him. “I need it, oh fuck, please.”

“Cum with me.” Both fell over the edge at the same time, drawing moans from them while they lost themselves in the intense sensation. It had never felt this strong, this relieving, this perfect. A deadly mixture reminding them both of the power they could wield when their souls were finally connected again.

His forehead fell against hers, lips connected once more before he pulled away. But her hand darted out to cling to his jaw, searching his eyes while finding her trembling voice, “Tell me you’re still mine, tell me she’s nothing but a pawn in your game.”

A raspy chuckle left her lover, he shook his head while intently studying her, “She’s a worthy asset, a pawn to bring us closer to what we’ve been working towards. But she’ll never be you, nobody ever will, sweetling, and it’d do you good to finally remember that.”

(Y/n) pressed another kiss to his lips before both directed their gazes towards the darkening sky, tasting the smoke and ash in the air - something seemingly pushing excitement through his veins, “So it begins.”

[xximmortalkissxx]

Where the Shadows Lie (Chapter One: Welcome to Mordor)

It has been an age since I've posted a fic, but this season of Rings of Power has dug itself into my brain and inspired this one. Thank you for reading!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Pairings: Sauron / Halbrand / Annatar x Móriel  | Adar x Móriel (Original Character: Daughter of Morgoth)

Summary: When Halbrand is brought in chains to Adar's feet, the Lord-Father's consort Mòriel sees him for who he truly is, her father's former lieutenant and her oldest rival.

Warnings: (18+ Only! Adar Smut: Fingering, Oral Sex, Sex, Licking, Biting)

Translations (Black Speech):

Throqu-ni: Devour me.

Sha-ni: Together with me.

Ash Burzum: One Darkness

Word Count: 3k

Under the looming shadow of Mount Doom, an unruly war camp of Uruks stretched for miles, the air thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and the faint metallic tang of blood. Within the center of the camp, two crude thrones forged from blackened wood and iron stood atop a dais, watching over the gathering of Uruks and prisoners alike.

Móriel sat languidly upon her throne, her golden eyes catching the light of the torches like embers in the dark. Half-lidded in thought, her gloved fingers idly stroked the coarse fur of the warg resting at her side. Its snarling maw, dripping with saliva, leaned into her touch. Beside her, Adar sat tall, his eyes fixed upon the approaching prisoners dragged forward by the ever-fervent Waldreg. The Uruks jeered as the clanking of chains and hesitant footsteps of the captives filed into the clearing, but Móriel’s attention remained distant while Waldreg’s voice cut through the din.

“Do you swear allegiance,” Waldreg bellowed, “to Adar, Lord-Father of the Uruks, and to our Lady Móriel, Daughter of Morgoth, Mother of the Uruks, and Maiden of Pain?”

The prisoners quaked beneath the weight of the question, eyes wide with terror as they glanced between the towering presence of Adar and the ethereal, dark beauty of Móriel. Some muttered prayers, others stammered weak declarations of loyalty to the dark power that had consumed their land. All who swore loyalty were branded on the nape of the neck with the Mark of Adar and Móriel.

Móriel’s gaze barely flickered at their pleas and cries of pain, her hand still stroking the warg’s fur, until a particular figure was dragged forward. Waldreg pushed a man clad in rough, travel-worn clothes onto his knees. His face was bruised, his eyes steely, but there was something in his bearing—something familiar.

Sauron.

“Halbrand, The King of the Southlands turned himself in Lord-Father, says he wants to negotiate.” Waldreg spat.

Móriel’s interest piqued, her eyes sharpening as she recognized him immediately for who he truly was. Sauron, in a mortal guise, masking his power behind the pretense of this King of the Southlands. She kept her expression carefully neutral. With a voice smooth and honeyed, Móriel leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. 

“Negotiate? What could you possibly offer us, your highness?” 

“Let my people go.” The man commanded, standing up to meet Móriel’s eyes. He held firm even as the jeering intensified. 

“Or yours will die.” he added tersely. 

“Our people defeated the men of these lands, we defeated the elves who came to their aid, we even defeated their allies, the Men from beyond the sea.” Adar replied, standing from his throne and walking towards his prisoner.

“There is no one left for us to fear.”

“There is one.” The King of the Southlands retorted.

“Since Galadriel’s defeat, she sought out a new ally. An ancient sorcerer, to instruct the Elves in forging a new weapon. One you first told her about. “A power over flesh” Do you remember those words?” Halbrand continued.

Adar’s and Móriel’s eyes met briefly, though they quickly returned to Halbrand as he continued to speak.

“A power that will allow him to use your children as slaves in his army once more. Set my people free, and I will tell you where he can be found. So you can destroy him, and rid us both of his evil.” His voice seemed so sincere, Móriel had nearly forgotten how earnest Sauron could sound.

“No, Your Majesty. You will tell us everything you think you know of this sorcerer now. Or I will spill the words from your throat.” Adar threatened, his eyes locked on the man in front of him. 

“If I die, all that I know dies with me. You can’t kill me.” Halbrand’s challenge lingered in the air, and Móriel watched with bated breath.

“In time, you will beg me to.” Adar countered coldly, then turned his head, dismissing the would-be king. Waldreg, sensing the conversation had concluded, struck Halbrand with a devastating blow to the stomach and drug him away into the depths of the camp.

Móriel’s gaze lingered on Halbrand as he was led away, a flicker of intrigue dancing in her eyes. Her hand stilled on the warg’s head as her thoughts drifted, contemplating what she had just witnessed. Sauron, always playing his games. Always maneuvering, weaving his webs of deceit. And yet, he had chosen to reveal himself to her. A dangerous move, but one that sparked something within her. What game was Sauron truly playing, and how could she turn it to her advantage?

The Uruks had been steadfastly loyal to Adar all these long years. He did not seek to rule over them; did not seek to instill fear in them; he seemed to love them, and they loved him in return. But love was fickle, and the Uruks had grown as restless as Móriel of late. None of them remembered the reign of her father or the terrible might she had commanded until he was cast into the Void and her power was collared by Valar. All of the Uruks revered her and saw her as their mother, but they didn't fear her. Not as they should.   

************************************************

In the solitude of their shelter, Móriel moved with practiced care, her fingers deftly undoing the clasps of Adar’s armor. She worked in silence, her gaze steady as she freed him from the worn dark plates. Adar watched her, his expression softening.

“You seem distracted of late.” He broke the silence between them, a hand gently resting on her cheek. Her skin was warm, like the radiant heat of a kindling fire.

“Do you believe him? This King of the Southlands, that Sauron has returned?” Móriel asked, slipping a slight tremble into her voice. 

“No.” Adar replied, his thumb brushing across her cheek.

“You saw him parish just as I did all those long years ago.” he added.

“I warned you then, it is no simple feat to kill a Maia.” Móriel retorted. 

“I did not think the daughter of Morgoth would flinch at the mere mention of a ghost.” Adar replied sardonically.

Móriel's face hardened slightly, eyes narrowing.

“You would risk all we have accomplished, risk our children's very freedom, on this belief? The hubris of elves still lives within you I see.” Móriel broke away from Adar's touch, and turned to leave. He grabbed her wrist in response, just as she intended, pulling her back to him.

“Mortári,” Adar addressed her with a cautionary tone but used his term of endearment for her. 

“Do you remember what you vowed to me, all those centuries ago at Dúrnost?” Móriel asked softly. Adar contemplated for a moment before replying.

“I told you I would never see you bow to another dark lord again. That I would stand by you as your equal, in all matters, for all time.” 

“Then I will speak with this King of the Southlands tonight. There is either truth to his claim, or this is merely the last prayer of a desperate man. “ Móriel said simply. 

“I pity him.” Adar replied, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her pointed ear. 

“Once he feels your wrath, his Majesty will long for Waldreg's gentle touch.” 

Móriel’s mouth melted into a soft smile as she leaned in to his touch. Adar had been a good companion to her. Loyal, attentive, reverent, and accompanied by legions of Uruks for her to command. He saw her as another victim of her father and of Sauron, a kindred spirit in his quest for belonging. There was a part of Móriel that wished that were true. But in her heart, she felt only a ravenous endless hunger. Hunger for power, pleasure, dominion over all others, a hunger to become something truly divine. There was no room for sentimentality, she learned that lesson long ago. Her hands clutched the rough material of Adar's tunic and pulled him closer to her. With a practiced tongue, she traced the curve of his ear slowly. Adar's breath caught at the touch, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Lay with me.” Móriel whispered in his ear, her voice laced with urgency. 

Adar eyed her hungrily as she slipped away from his grasp. Nestled amongst the rough woolen blankets and furs that littered the ground, Móriel removed her silk shift and beckoned him closer. After all this time, seeing her laid bare before him, long hair cascading down her body like a river of night, Adar still felt as though he had strayed into a dream.

His mouth found hers, hungry and unreserved as their bodies met. Adar groaned as her skin began to heat to his touch. His bare hand slid between her thighs, gently teasing and massaging her. Deliberately slow at first until he felt her mouth move beneath his, nibbling, sucking, moaning his name. Mòriel's hips rolled against him greedily, one hand clawing at the fur beneath her while the other grasped Adar's silken hair. He slipped a finger inside her, then another, causing Mòriel to whimper against his mouth. The sound was enough to drive him mad. Adar’s fingers worked eagerly, curved slightly to heighten her pleasure. Móriel bit his bottom lip as she neared overstimulation. He let out a throaty chuckle in response, nibbling along her neck, over her collarbone, and finally making his way to her breast. Adar's tongue took her nipple into his mouth and gave it a tight squeeze between his teeth. Móriel gave a sharp cry in response, he could feel her constrict around his fingers and the trembling of her body. She was close.

“Throqu-ni!” Móriel pleaded in the Black Speech. Adar's eyes met hers and she could see a smirk form from around her breast. Slowly, he continued gnawing along her body, across the tender flesh of her stomach, and down to her thighs. The momentum of his fingers didn't cease, even as Adar added his mouth and began to taste every inch of her. 

“Adar…Lord-Father please!” Mòriel cried, pulling his hair as her climax took over. She bit into her lip as Adar's low guttural growls vibrated against her, sending aftershocks rolling though her body. Loosening her grip on his hair, Móriel guided him back to her, panting hard as she rested her forehead against his. She could smell the smoke in his hair and almost taste the sweat on his skin. As Adar slipped his fingers from inside her, Móriel's eyes met his with a mischievous glint. Shifting beneath him, she spread her legs wide and invited him to claim her.

Adar pulled away momentarily, unclasping his belt. Seeing her under him, eyes tracking him with anticipation, made his chest ache with longing. Slowly, attentively, he inched himself inside her and was welcomed by the sweet sound of his name and a lusty moan. Móriel's toes curled as he filled her to the hilt, savoring the fullness of him.

“Mortári…” Adar breathed against her neck, his thrusts becoming more rapid. Móriel's arms wrapped around his body, holding him close. With each thrust, the weight of him threatened to knock the wind out of her. Móriel relished the moment, the dizzying lightheadedness, the heat building in her core. She threw her head back with the pleasure of his body pounding against hers. Letting out a primal moan, Móriel raked her nails against Adar's back, sending him into a frenzy. But before he could finish, Móriel wrapped a leg around him and used their momentum to overturn them. Now in control, she rode him mercilessly with her hands digging into his thighs. Adar used the sharp points of his gauntlet to dig into her hip and ass, while his bare thumb rubbed her clit. 

“Sha-ni Adar! Sha-ni!” Moriel screamed, as their bodies crashed together violently.

With a deep guttural groan, Adar took hold of her hips with both hands and thrust himself into Móriel as hard and far as he could. She could feel him spasm and the warmth of his seed spreading inside her. Móriel's body tensed around him, quivering with pleasure as the two of them rode out their climax together.

With trembling hands firmly planted on his chest for support, Móriel withdrew herself slowly. She already missed the breadth of him inside her, now feeling strangely hollow. Settling beside her consort, she gave Adar a moment to recover from her touch. Though they were already beginning to recede, she could still see the angry red marks on his chest and face. The inevitable burn of her caress.   This much sustained contact, though undoubtedly pleasurable, was mixed with pain. But Adar was used to pain, and if it were by her hand he welcomed it. Combing his fingers through her hair, Adar brought his lips to hers before withdrawing again. He was utterly spent, panting softly at her side. The Lord-Father of the Uruks would rest soundly this night, but Móriel had other matters to attend to before sleep would claim her as well.

************************************************

Entering the dimly lit tent, Móriel was as quiet as a lurking wolf. The scent of charred earth and iron filled the air, mingling with the lingering scent of blood. The light of a lone torch caught her eyes producing a luminous eyeshine. A hint of the true lineage lurking behind them. Halbrand, shackled to a sturdy post, sat slumped in the center of the tent, his body bruised and battered from Waldreg’s less-than-kind methods of interrogation.

He raised his head slowly. Seeing Móriel step closer, his eyes narrowed with a flicker of recognition. She moved with graceful precision, a coy smile on her lips. Móriel felt a sense of satisfaction seeing him in this state, yet there was something else too, something so familiar about the scene before her.

Kneeling beside him, Móriel produced a damp cloth and began dabbing it gently against the cuts and bruises marring his skin. Halbrand’s muscles tensed under her touch, but he remained silent, watching her with calculating eyes.

“This,” she began softly, her voice lilting with a mixture of amusement and nostalgia, “reminds me of when my father was particularly cross with you."

Halbrand’s lips melted into a smirk, though the pain from his wounds made it brief. “Morgoth was often cross with me,” he muttered, his voice low but carrying that ever-present edge of defiance. “I lost track of the times.”

Móriel chuckled softly, her hand continuing to gently clean his wounds. Her touch was tender, so deceptively tender. 

“Yes, well, your penchant for ambition often aggravated him.” She teased studying his face. 

“And yet, here you are again. Spinning your webs, even in chains.” Móriel added, dabbing the cloth against a particularly deep cut, causing him to flinch slightly. 

“Adar believes you are just a pretender—a king of a people long forgotten. It’s almost endearing. Could you imagine if he were to discover who you truly were? With how much he loathes even your memory.”

Halbrand raised an eyebrow, leaning his head back against the post. 

“And you?” he asked, his voice low, testing her. “Do you loathe me too?”

Móriel paused for a moment, her hand hovering over his skin as she looked into his eyes. Her expression softened, but only slightly. 

“Loathe? No.” She leaned in just a little closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. 

“You have always been… beguiling. A rival, a kindred spirit, calling to my very nature.” Móriel’s lips hovered just above his, tantalizingly close. It had been so long since he tasted them, held her soft scalding flesh with his hands and teeth.  

“But prone to arrogance and never heeding sound counsel when presented to you.” she withdrew slowly giving him a knowing look. 

Halbrand chuckled darkly. “I had a long time to reflect on your words. While you were here, playing wet-nurse to an army of orcs, and warming my would-be-murderer’s bed.”

“They have served their purpose, most enthusiastically.” Móriel purred, unwilling to fall for the obvious bait. The charged silence between them lingered for a time, neither wanting to break first. 

“I have missed you.” Halbrand sighed, his eyes softening in feigned affection. Móriel scoffed, but her face lacked any sign of irritation.

“I have missed you too, Mairon.” There was a charming lilt to her voice as she spoke his name. A name he hadn't heard in an age.

“Now, I'm not fool enough to expect the whole truth.” Móriel began, setting the damp cloth aside.

“But you revealed yourself to me on purpose, why?”

“Because, you will expedite my release from these shackles.” Halbrand said giving his chain as sharp tug.

“So I can free you from yours.” He added.

A fit of uncontrolled laughter burst from Móriel's chest. The Vallar themselves had shackled her, suppressing the vast terrible power she had once wielded as her birthright. There was no force on Middle Earth that could break that. Was there?

“A noble pursuit, truly.” Móriel's laughter faded as she met Halbrand's gaze, expecting a glint in his eye, a vicious grin, but there was nothing. He looked at her expectantly, a slight furrow of his brow. He was serious.

“How?” Móriel couldn't contain the slight tremble in her voice, subconsciously touching the hollow of her neck.

“There exist three rings of power, forged in Eregion, which will reverse the very will of the Valar and restore the Great Tree of Lindon.” Halbrand explained, his voice low and conspiratorial. 

“You forged these rings?” Móriel asked, her eyes searching his for any sign of deciept. Mairon had once served Aulë, the smith of the Valar, he had such knowledge. Móriel could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest.

“Inspired. But after I arrive in Eregion, my influence will help forge the rest. Seven for the Dwarf-Kings, nine for the race of men, and one for you my Ash Burzum.” the deep guttural sound of the Black Speech leaving his lips sent a tantalizing chill down Móriel's spine. His eyes locked onto hers with a fire she hadn't seen since that fated day at Dúrnost.

“Out of the goodness of your heart?” She asked, eyes narrowed skeptically. 

“No.” Halbrand replied with a dry laugh.

“But I would rather not make the same mistake twice. I need you Móriel, and if the price is restoring you to your former glory, so be it.”

Móriel contemplated his words carefully. There was enough history between them to fill tomes. Memories of exhilaration, pain, lust, torment, and satisfaction flooded her thoughts. She couldn't trust him, there was obviously a cost to these rings, one that would benefit him greatly. But she had to take this chance…no matter the cost. 

Móriel's hand clasped the chain around his neck, gently pulling him closer until her mouth hovered next to his ear.

“Then you have me Mairon.” Her answer was soft, delicate, like the vow of a lover. Twisting the chain slowly in her hand, she pulled him tighter, until her mouth touched the lobe of his ear as she spoke.

“But cross me, and you will long for the mercy of my father.”

Halbrand's eyes darkened and a subtle smile touched his lips. He was happy to let Móriel think she had the upper hand… for now.

[kasagia]

In death's arms

Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!maia! reader Summary: There was nothing Sauron regretted doing. Every nasty thing he did to gain power paid off for him, and given the choice again, he would do it all over again. Or so he thought, until his path was crossed with someone from his past. It turns out that some of his mistakes are destined to haunt him forever. Author's note: A little sth that stuck in my head after watching Agatha All Along... this is pure fiction and probably wouldn't work in Middle-earth, but since I've written it... 😅 I've been completely out of it lately and everything's been going so fast in my life lately, so I'm terribly sorry if I've missed any messages/comments from you! I'm trying to catch up slowly! Anyway, enjoy! Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

“Have you come to torment me again?” He asks, gathering the last of his strength to mock you as you appear before him.

From the nasty grin you give him, instead of being angry at his mockery, he realises how bad a state he is in. Morgoth has just put him through one of his tests. Sauron no longer remembers what he had to do. But he remembers his master's anger when he failed. He remembers clearly every cut he inflicted on him, every wound, every spilt blood that stained his skin and clothes, or at least the shreds that remained of them.

He no longer counted how much of his blood had soaked into his clothes and how much into the stone floor and wall behind him. And the seemingly irritating digging of the bars into his neck and skin stopped bothering him as the metal and his body became one.

"Contrary to appearances, your new master is not willing enough to hand you over to me. Too bad. You'd look pretty in your grave, Mairon. Oh, forgive me. Old habits die hard, Sauron."

He trembles when you speak his true name. The name given to him by the Valar. It sounds both sweet and deadly on your lips. A reminder of what he has lost, of what he could have had, had his lust for power been kept in check, had he never left the forge…

"He needs me. He knows that only I can lead his army to the victory."

"Victory, death. What's the difference, right?" You reply with a smirk that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

He feels... uneasy around you. It wasn't something he was used to. Your presence always brought him some kind of comfort and peace, but now... now everything was different. He and you had changed. Not necessarily for the better.

"I suppose it makes no difference to you whether you take me in a dungeon or on a battlefield."

"But your honour wouldn't allow you to be beneath me, would it, my sweet deceiver?" You mock him and laugh, which sends a cold, unpleasant shiver down his spine.

Your laughter is so different from the one he remembers. It is bleak and harsh as the blade he once forged for you, and which you now carry at your side.

He remembered loving to bask in the glow of your laughter, in the halls of the Valar, as you feasted and danced, living as carefree a life as could be. Sometimes he longed for those days... to spend another one like this, so that he could engrave it forever in his memory and cling to it to save himself from total corruption and rottenness.

"Why do you keep showing up? You know that you can't get your claws on me."

"I am aware about that. But every moment like this will only sweeten the day when I finally take you in my arms, my dear deceiver. And believe me... you will not escape once I finally get my hands on you. In the end, all paths lead to one person. And it is not Morgoth. It is not any of your Valar. It is not any being that you know. In the end, you will come to me. And you will suffer more than Morgoth ever made you do, my Dark Lord."

You press your lips to his forehead—the place where Morgoth smashed his skull into the wall and split his head. He trembles as your lips press against raw, bleeding skin. You groan, running your tongue over his wound, tasting his black blood. And he cries out as you send waves of pain through him worse than any Morgoth had inflicted on him.

He holds his breath as your other hand lazily caresses the skin of his arm, tracing patterns with your black nails, only to suddenly dig them into the open wounds Morgoth had inflicted on him. Sauron groans in pain, trembling in your arms. You press your lips to his, drinking in his every cry as you caress him with your gentle touch and send waves of pain shooting through every tiny particle of his body.

"I will drink in every one of your sweet screams, my dearest. I will bask in every pain your being feels. Until all you remember, all you know, is me and my blade." You whisper your promise, and as suddenly as you came, you disappeared.

You leave him trembling and crying on the cold stone floor, dirty with his blood. And though he hated the times you came to mock him, he was relieved that you didn't leave him completely alone. Even if you only came to drive the knives Morgoth had placed inside him deeper.

He needed you. As pathetic as it was, he needed those little moments with you to keep him from going completely crazy during his darkest hours and the tests his master put him through.

But he lived with the hope that one day he would be able to repay you with the same sweet torture. That one day he would be the one to listen to your sighs of pain... or cries of pleasure. He wasn't sure yet whether he loved or hated you more—even though you seemed to already have your mind set about your feelings towards him.

Adar has betrayed him. He has betrayed him in the worst possible way. Sauron lies on the floor, surrounded by Orcs who drive the blades of Morgoth's crown into him as their Lord-Father looks on passively.

This couldn't be the end. He couldn't end like this. He couldn't be defeated like Morgoth had been, not by the filthy stinking Orcs and someone he had considered a friend. His master had been right; if they didn't fear you, you were nothing to them. There was no ally so powerful, so loyal, and true as fear. And now he was learning his lesson once again. In the most painful way possible.

He took small, ragged breaths that burned his body every time his lungs tried to expand and draw in air. Blood dripped from almost every inch of his body. And suddenly, in the distance, a few feet from those nasty orcs, he sees you.

You watch his fall with complete calm. You play carelessly with the blade he gave you, waiting for his end, letting the orcs finish their work. He sees no emotion on your face. Ironic, considering that this is probably the best day of your life. He will finally get his punishment from you. There was nothing he could do to escape you... unless...

He gasps especially hard when one of the orcs plunges a blade into his heart. As if through a haze, he sees Adar above him, who, after making sure that his physical body has been completely destroyed, says something to his orcs. Sauron hears only a screech in his ears as his battered heart gives its last beat. And then there is only darkness. Bleak darkness, which is quickly interrupted by a song all too familiar to him.

"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms."

Sauron remembers the countless nights after Morgoth's torture, when you sang it to him and mocked him, giving him a taste of what you would do when you could finally take him in your arms.

Once it was a simple lullaby. A lullaby you made up for him when he couldn't calm his mind, when he spent too much time in Aulë's forge, too absorbed in his work to see you. Now you were attracting souls who were about to meet their end.

But he is not ready for death yet. He does not want to go like this. Not when he has known no power, not when the sacrifice he made of himself has brought him nothing at all. He does not want to go into your arms, knowing that he has thrown away everything he had with you for nothing.

"Look where your lust has taken you, my darling." You tell him with a smirk, taking your time as you walk towards him.

He kneels, swaying as he tries to keep his balance. He falls on both hands in front of you, taking in shuddering breaths as the black bonds of your magic close around him, crushing him in a tight embrace.

"I thought you loved my embrace? You told me so. Remember? When we lay together in the halls of the Valar, each held tightly, when you swore to me that you would not yield to Morgoth's influence, that what we have was enough, that you would never dream of more than what we have? Tell me, did you plan to betray me even then, or did you forget your promises in time?"

After each of your mockery comes a blow from you. Sometimes it's a simple kick, sometimes a punch delivered from your fist, and sometimes you pierce his body with a dagger, tormenting him even more and twisting him so that the blade grazes every single muscle of his. You were going for your revenge. And nothing was going to stop you.

"Pathetic. You wanted power. You wanted power so great that millions would kneel before you, and now you are on your knees. You were willing to do anything; you gave up everything just to fulfil your dark desires. Tell me, Sauron, was it worth it? Because I am truly happy with this turn of events."

He gasps as you grab him by the neck, forcing his gaze to meet yours. He trembles, staring into your black, dilated pupils. Your face is nothing like the one he remembers. You look like death. You are the real death. He trembles, seeing what the Vaalr did to you after he left and what punishment they gave you for loving a traitor. He looks away, wanting to momentarily ease his guilt and helplessness, but your tightening grip on his neck won't let him.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this. You have no idea how long I've wanted to tear out every last piece of you just to put you back together and present you to the Valar, to give you into their hands so you could suffer as you should. Do you think that what you became was all your fault? That they wanted to punish us for our love? I asked them to make me something you fear, something you must reckon with. I am what everyone sees at the end; I am what takes everyone, even the mightiest of men. I am the end of Morgoth, the end of all evil, all good, the end of everything. I am death." You growl and throw him across the room.

He groans in pain, but he doesn't try to run away from you anymore. He knows that without his physical form, without any power, he won't hide from you. He was in your world, in the thrall of your power. And if he wanted to somehow escape from your grip, he had to play his cards right.

"I never wanted this for you... I never wanted this for us." He gasps, glancing at you. You walk slowly toward him, your black outfit billowing behind you, giving you an ethereal, trash-like look. As much as he fears you, he yearns to have you by his side. But he's not foolish or naive enough to believe you'll ever be on his side again.

"You left me! You left me to rot in the light of the Valar!! You tore my heart, all my humanity, destroyed everything I was, and left me alone. What did you want then, deceiver? What did you want, if not my absolute destruction, so that the vestiges of my past would not torment you in your greedy quest for power?"

He grunts as you drive your sword through his side. He grabs your hand, the one resting on the hilt, and pulls you toward him. You land on the floor with him, and before you can react, he's straddling you, placing the metal against your neck as he leans over you. His blood decorates your skin as his hand cups your cheek. Any attempts to fight him die inside you as his skin touches yours. You freeze for a moment, unused to someone's touch after so long alone, and he takes advantage of it as much as he can.

"I… I've always wanted… I've dreamed of you standing beside me… as my queen. My equal… I… I would never turn my back on you completely." He mumbles, pressing his nose to your temple. You break your dark vision of death for a moment and show him the face he knew so well, the one he had missed for so long that tears came to his eyes. You kick him in the chest and push him away, trying to regain some control. You reach for your neck and wipe away his blood. Without taking your eyes off him, you lick your fingers clean.

"You would trade me for the power Morgoth had at the first opportunity. You have no heart. You never did. And I was too naive to see you for who you really were." With a flick of your wrist, the bonds around him reappear. His wrists and ankles are bound and he is immobilized as he waits for you to make your final move and take his soul from this world forever.

"I have a heart. As black and rotten as yours. And it beats for you. Always has, always will. Even if you seek to destroy me utterly… even if you are left all alone after you have done your duty to the Valar and taken me into your sweet, hellish embrace." He says, only half-feigning contrition for what he had done.

He loved you. If there was one thing he was certain of about his old life, it was that he had loved you deeply. But not enough to become just another servant of the Valar. He wanted more. He had to have more. If he couldn't have you by his side, he would be content to fight with you. Until death do you part.

"If you loved me, you would never leave me." The slight tremor in your voice gives him hope that this meeting will go as he had hoped.

He lifts his gaze to you, studying you as you stand before him. The dagger in your hand is still a painful reminder of what it could cost him if he doesn't say the right words, but for now all he can think about is how wonderfully terrifying you look, standing before him in all your glory and power.

You captivate him. You tempt him. The Valar knew what they were doing when they made you the Lady of Death. You would be his undoing. He knows it. Eventually he will fall, and there will be no turning back. But before he does... he wants to make sure he remains legendary and eternal.

"It was because I loved you that I had to leave you. I didn't want to taint you with my darkness. You were pure. You were the sweetness that I wanted to drink and destroy at the same time for my own pleasure. You would not have had a better fate with me." He tries to defend himself by touching your most sensitive spot. He sees your ardour slowly subside as you begin to really consider his words.

You hesitate. He can see it in your gaze. He can see that the vision of your dream future he's presented to you is starting to tempt you. If he'd pushed you just a little further, if he'd said a few more words, maybe you'd really join his side? Maybe you'd be a force against the world? Maybe if he hadn't left you completely alone, maybe you could have had it all?

You walk up to him and stop a few millimetres away from him. If he takes a deep breath, his chest can gently brush against yours. He wants so badly to drive the blade into you and simultaneously capture your lips in a kiss that it's a confusing feeling in his current situation. You wanted him dead. That's what you came here for. To take him away. And yet you still had your ways of making him want you.

You lean forward, your hair brushing his cheek as your tongue traces the shell of his ear. He shivers as your cold breath contrasts with the warm saliva you spread before you bite down on his skin teasingly.

"I was soaked in it long before you even thought about leaving, my sweet deceiver. Now, I am just darkness." You whisper in his ear. You move away millimetres, far enough to look him in the eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you raise your blade, preparing to deal the final blow and take his soul forever, locking him away in a cell next to Morgoth, most likely.

So in a desperate act of self-savement, or perhaps out of the lust you've awakened in him, or perhaps out of the pure desire to taste your lips one more time before he leaves this world, he leans down and kisses you.

And it surprises you. Sauron hears the dagger fall from your hand to the floor as you reach for his hair, tangling your hands in it. He groans and tugs at the bonds you've trapped him in so he can wrap his arms around you and take you in his arms like he wanted to all along, but you don't let him move an inch. He growls in rage and bites your lip in retaliation, drawing blood—a random action that saves him from his predicament.

With each drop of your blood, he feels the power within him begin to bubble up again. Before you know it, he breaks your bonds and pushes you against the wall behind you. You groan in protest, trying to push him away from you. You try to summon your powers to immobilise him again, but he plunges his blade into your arm, effectively distracting you.

You cry out in pain, cursing his name, but he has only one goal in mind. He tears your clothes and burrows into your skin, biting and caressing every exposed part, feeding on your blood and power, restoring his soul the vitality it needs.

You are a mess of black blood and tears as he feasts on you, outsmarting you and binding you in your own shackles that you used against him.

"You won't take me as easily as you take these mortals." He growls against your skin, drinking your blood as he uses his knife to carve tiny cuts into your skin, decorating it with both black liquid and hickeys, marks from his bites and fingers.

“You’ll pay for this.” You moan as he bites into your neck, leaving a messy, bloody trail. He licks his lips and grabs you roughly by the waist, pulling you closer so you can feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh.

"Then, my sweet death, you will take me as a happy man." He growls in your ear before smashing his lips against yours in another kiss. You don't register the moment he takes your amulet from you.

His kisses numb you to the point where you don't register anything but him. All that matters to you is the way his hands caress your body, the way his lips defile every little inch of you. It feels so good to finally feel someone's touch on you…so good to finally feel HIS touch on you.

"I think that few people have the privilege of saying that they fucked death..." He mumbles in your ear, drunk on the feeling of you beneath him.

And just when he's about to bring you the greatest pleasure, just when he's teased your core long enough that you clench around his fingers desperate for more, he does something far worse than drive your dagger through you. He leaves you completely alone again.

You scream, furious and frustrated, both for having him deceive you and sexually for not giving you the release you deserved. You pound your fists on the ground and scream long and shrilly—enough that he will surely be able to hear you, whatever pathetic form he has taken since breaking out of your realm.

And driven by hot fury, you know only one thing—he will pay for this. Even if you were to seek him out and ignore your duties. You'll get him in your arms.

There was something addictive about the way people were drawn to him.

Ever since Sauron took the form of Annatar, the people of Eregion had flocked to him like moths to a flame, seeking gifts from the great messenger of the Valar. He liked the power he had over them. How one of his (false) words could turn them into his obedient puppets who would do anything to fulfill the prophecy he had foretold.

However, with the number of creatures circling around him, he had increasing difficulty maintaining the illusion he had cast over the city.

This is exactly what has happened now.

Annatar/Sauron was cleaning up the mess he had made by killing one of the elves who had discovered too quickly what was happening beyond the walls of his safe illusion. He could not afford for the whispers of panic to reach the ears of the only blacksmith whose skills were satisfactory.

Lifting the body, he freezes suddenly as a cold shiver runs through him. The atmosphere in the room changes. The only lit torch goes out, the smell of sulfur begins to fill the air, the rats that were roaming the basement disappear, and the only sound in the room is his breathing. He looks around, trying to see through the darkness of the room, but all he can see is red blood on his hands..

He frowns, looking around him as he realises the body he was supposed to get rid of is gone. He walks over to the extinguished torch and relights it, illuminating the room once more. He looks around for the body, but all he sees are the empty corridors of the underground. He frowns and focuses his senses, trying to sense any additional presence or power that would mess with his head.

And then he hears it. A soft humming from down the hall. He automatically reaches to his side, where his sword is strapped to his belt, and slowly walks toward the sound of soft singing.

"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms." He freezes in mid-step. Goosebumps rise across his body, and he feels his breath quicken.

Memories—unwanted, painful memories—flood his mind as he stands in the empty hallway, wondering if he should go down. Involuntarily, his memories go back to the day he survived one of Morgoth's most demanding trainings—the day he found out what the consequences of his actions brought to you...

"I didn't know you were a coward, Y/N! Are you going to show yourself? Or should I leave you to your work and go back to mine?" He asks cheekily, trying to get you out of your hiding place. He knows how dangerous you've become, and as much as it fascinates him, he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of your blade... or claws. "I bet you're as busy as I am these days." He mumbles, pacing the empty hallways where your humming still echoes.

He glances over his shoulder a few times, wanting to make sure that you won't surprise him with a dagger to his neck.

Sauron won't admit to himself that he's afraid of you; he just knows the threat you pose to him. There was nothing worse than a mad woman—especially an unpredictable woman. And he was foolish enough to get on your bad side, to betray you, and don't look back. But how could he possibly know that you would get punished for his action? How could he predict that you will be paying off his sins to Valar? That only showed how unjust they were. Not only to you, but to him as well.

"Won't you show me your face?" He asks, still searching for the slightest sign that will give away your presence. But your soft singing, the haunting song that makes his heart beat faster, pumping adrenaline through his body, makes it impossible for him to fully devote himself to the task of finding you. Not if he doesn't want to end up with a sword in his chest. "Valar knows how I missed looking at it."

He turns around and, as if on cue, you appear to him. He presses his lips together tightly, refraining from gasping in surprise when he sees you in all your glory. He swallows hard when his gaze falls on your deformed face that you show him. A bloodthirsty smile, full of black fangs, sunken cheeks, and no nose, is one of the less... drastic forms in which you like to show yourself lately. Sauron knows how much you want to scare him; he hopes he doesn't give you too much entertainment.

"I would have a lot less work to do, my sweet deceiver, if you would just give yourself to me as you should and stopped playing Valar. You won't fool me a third time." You warn him, stepping closer. You see his throat tremble as he swallows, and he gently closes his eyes for a moment to inhale your scent and take in a little of your closeness.

You were so damn dangerous, deadly even... and he wanted more. Even though he knew full well that this desire would probably lead him to his grave.

"But wthout me you'd be terribly bored, wouldn't you?" He asks, giving you one of his smirks. He was playing with death, literally. He wondered how many times he could get out of your cruel clutches before he finally ran out of escape routes.

He freezes when you gently place your hand on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. He grits his teeth, staring at you wordlessly as you play with a strand of his blonde hair.

"Where's your elf?" You whisper against his lips, leaning in close enough that it’s a challenge for him to stay away from you. You should be a repulsive threat to him, nothing more than an enemy to be defeated. But for some reason, whether it’s your past, the pull that’s always been between you, or the power that’s bound you together, he can’t feel anything for you but pure lust.

"She left." He says shakily, wondering if you were jealous of him, if you watched him and Galadriel, if you planned her death when he declared that he wanted her to be his queen...

"Too bad... I would gladly take her in my arms. I guess I can only wait then. There is nothing more pleasant than meeting them all at the end of their path. They act as if they were truly immortal. You have no idea how surprised most of them are when they cross my path. Almost as surprised as you were when you first saw me in this form."

"I would appreciate seeing you more often if it weren't related to your current… job position." You chuckle darkly and grab his hand at his words.

You lift it between the two of you and pull out your dagger. You cut his palm, and he can only stand there, dazed, watching as you lick his black blood. You hum, tasting your power as it courses through his veins.

"Oh… but then it would be too boringly easy for you, right?" Your voice is velvety, like a balm to his frayed nerves. He allows himself to cling to you, completely forgetting that he should always be on guard with you. A mistake you won't fail to remind him of. "Tell me, Sauron… have you never heard of such a thing as being utterly charmed by death?"

Before his mind can process the meaning of your words, you have already pierced his hand with a dagger through and through. He groans in pain and tries to rip his hand from your iron grip, but you won't let him. You rip off your amulet that he stole from you, which he hung on a necklace around his neck, and you place it on his wound. You chant the appropriate words and drain him of all the power that he stole from you all those years ago—the power that helped him be reborn again.

"Next time you lay your hands on something that doesn't belong to you, I'll chop them off. I think I can find a much better use for them. A more… satisfying one, if you still know what I mean." You mock him, twisting his wrist.

He growls in pain and shoves you back, sending you crashing into the wall behind you. You raise your blade higher, pressing it against his neck as he steps closer to you. You laugh as you feel him press his own weapon against your chest.

"Well, well, well. I see you've learned something after all. Tell me, my beloved, are you afraid of me?" You whisper hoarsely, licking your lips as you lean into him. You make a move to bite into his neck, but he pulls away from you at the last second, frowning at your amused, dark chuckle.

"Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of you."

"Like calls to like, right?" You pose the question, raising an eyebrow at him. You take advantage of his momentary distraction and push him against the wall. You press yourself against him and capture his lips in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He gasps into your mouth and tangles his hands in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your darkness is addictive. He wants to bask in it, to experience it so deeply that he can become intoxicated by it. He wants to bond with you and experience the same kind of limitless power that you possess. A force that borders on death itself.

As the kiss deepens, he begins to feel you slowly draining his life force. He knows he has to pull away, but not yet. He wants to taste your lips, your sighs, and your soft moans as he caresses you through the material of your night-black dress for as long as he can. But he knows that with each little touch, kiss, and soft moan, he will want more, and it will be harder for him to pull away from you.

That's why he's reluctant to push you away. But when he does, he feels how much you've weakened him with that little kiss. He gasps, laughing thoughtfully as he struggles to even out his heartbeat and his breaths. Now he understands all that talk about deadly kisses. But if he had to choose how he died, your lips were a very tempting option.

"Enjoy the time you have left. We both know that eventually you too will find me at the end of your road. On the way… try not to bother me too much with all the dead bodies and souls you've forced me to take care of." You wink at him and blow him a kiss before disappearing, returning to the other side where the soul of the mortal he killed was waiting for you.

Sauron is surprised that you let him go so easily after his last... antics. But he knows that you didn't leave him alive out of the kindness of your heart. You enjoyed the cat and mouse game between you; you enjoyed tormenting him with the idea that you could take his soul at any moment. So he had to think of a way to make it harder for you.

He returns to the forge and absently strokes the box with the 7 rings for the dwarves. If he had divided his soul… left fragments of it in each of them, it would be impossible for you to gather them all and drag him to the world of the dead, where you could torment him as you pleased…

Or perhaps, in time, he would find a way to tame death itself and submit it to his will?

One thing was sure. At the right time, you will come for him. And you will take away everything he has worked so hard for.

Just like you always do.

He had a few centuries to figure out how to cheat death again. And how to make sure that you will be the one to fall into the trap of his arms. Not the other way around.