Author's Note: Thanks @edensrose for requesting this one!♡
This is the last entry for the spicy bingo that I still had to write. Apologies for the delay, other events and health issues kept interfering with my schedule.
ೃ♡⁀➷ Spicy Bingo: Frottage + Navëmóre ৎ୭
He can't remember the last time he was this excited, if ever before. Yet how is he supposed to stay focused on his work when he finds beautiful, gorgeous Vanimóre bathing in the lotus pools of Mandos, showing off his naked fána so shamelessly, knowing full well he can't tear his gaze away from him?
ৎ୭ Synopsis: Looking for his colleague doesn't go as Navëquen expected
ৎ୭ Featuring: Frottage (shocking I know), handjob, more or less clothed
ৎ୭ Oneshot (~ 900 words)
OC info:
Navëquen
Vanimóre
Their lips meet in a heated kiss, devouring each other until fangs pierce skin and they withdraw slightly to catch their breath. Navëquen barely has time to gasp before Vanimóre leans in again and licks the tiny wound before his tongue pushes itself between parted lips to explore his mouth.
He can't remember the last time he was this excited, if ever before. Yet how is he supposed to stay focused on his work when he finds beautiful, gorgeous Vanimóre bathing in the lotus pools of Mandos, showing off his naked fána so shamelessly, knowing full well he can't tear his gaze away from him? When he is now kissing him so shamelessly and fervently, his fána barely covered by thin silken robes?
Navëquen moans against his lips, causing Vanimóre to withdraw once more and let out a light chuckle.
"Well, creeps? Is this what you wanted?" he taunts, an impish expression on his face, fangs on display.
Smug as always, Navëquen thinks, but there's no anger or malice behind it. His desire for the beautiful Maia in front of him eclipses everything else he may have felt in this moment, and he feels his fána reacting as well; yet even so, he hesitates, unsure if any further advances on his part are welcome.
Vanimóre senses his indecisiveness. "Or would you perhaps like to play some more?" he asks suggestively.
His eyes are half-lidded and his breathing is heavy. Before Navëquen can wonder whether he should interpret this as an invitation to continue, he feels Vanimóre's hand on his thigh, slowly trailing upwards until his fingers brush against his growing erection, stroking him through the fabric of his breeches.
"Ahn–! Vani–"
He can't help it anymore, can't resist when the Maia he has loved in secret for ages tempts him so brazenly. Letting his instincts take over, Navëquen flips him around and pushes him against the nearest wall. Vanimóre manages to brace himself against it with both hands, only to be caught off-guard by two arms around his waist and a hand slipping underneath his robes to wrap around his cock.
Navëquen is pleased to discover that his arrogant colleague seems to have enjoyed their kisses as well and starts pleasuring him without further delay. Vanimóre's previous question still remains unanswered, yet he feels like words are no longer needed–their fánar have long since betrayed them, displaying their lust for one another.
Without thinking, he starts rutting against his counterpart in an attempt to relieve his own need. It feels so good, holding Vanimóre in his arms, touching him, inhaling his scent, hearing the song of his fëa–even better than in his dreams or anything he could have imagined. As much as Navëquen wishes there was no fabric separating their fánar, it creates a pleasant kind of friction that he hopes will be enough to satisfy him; whether he'll be taken care of in return, he is too shy to ask.
"Getting–mmh–desperate, creeps?" Vanimóre taunts him again, though it's evident that he's suppressing a moan as he speaks.
Navëquen slows down his movements on purpose, brushing against the tip of his cock with his thumb.
"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, doll," he admonishes, "or touches you, in this case."
Despite his uncertainty in matters of intimacy, he won't let Vanimóre get away with such antics. He rolls his hips forward to let him feel his hardness and increase friction, allowing soft groans to escape his lips.
"Please..." Vanimóre breathes. His ear twitches and a shudder of pleasure goes through him; he seems to be giving in.
"Please what, doll?"
"Don't... tease me–ngh–touch me... please..."
"Fine then."
Navëquen smiles and gently bites his ear, eliciting another beautiful, desperate moan. Never did he think he would have Vanimóre begging for his touch, and he begins to realise just how much he loves this, enjoys taking control and asserting dominance over this smug Maia.
He resumes his task, stroking Vanimóre with renewed vigour and persistence while he continues to rut against him. Everything else is forgotten, gone from his mind, and all that remains are soft sounds of pleasure, his fingers wrapped around a hot, hard cock and the ever increasing heat in his own lower body.
It doesn't take long until Navëquen feels warm liquid spilling all over his hand and Vanimóre's fána tensing and quivering from his climax. He tries to hold back, to avoid embarrassing himself any further than he already has by grinding on his colleague like a beast in heat, but it's too late; watching and listening to Vanimóre finding his release in his arms, from his touch no less, has pushed him over the edge, and he soon feels a wet, sticky sensation between his legs.
"Well?"
Vanimóre recovers quickly and turns around, giving him an expectant look.
Navëquen isn't sure what he wants. Has he noticed that he came as well? Is he about to point it out and comment on the state of his robes? Is there anything he's expected to do that he isn't aware of?
"I... have to get back to work," he says quietly, cheeks flushing bright red. Certainly not the most eloquent thing he could have come up with, but the first thing that came to mind.
Vanimóre opens his mouth as if to protest, but Navëquen quickly disappears in a flash of green, teleporting back to his room with no intention of coming out any time soon.
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taglist: @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to
spicy bingo master post | my masterlist | tag list form
Characters: Navëquen/Vanimóre
Synopsis: Two Maiar of Mandos conversing and teasing each other during their working hours.
Warnings: /
"So what do you think? Guilty or not?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Vanimóre rolls his eyes when he hears Navëquen's voice in his mind, laced with a hint of smugness – nigh undetectable within his usual calm, even tone, yet he knows him too well not to notice.
He glances at his fellow prosecutor and notices the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly and an almost mischievous glint in his right eye; his left however, the one that sees the past, remains dull and black, still observing a couple of fëar in the distance.
Cute, Vanimóre thinks to himself. Part of him wants to snatch one of Navëquen's intricate braids and pull on it to teach the smug bastard a lesson, but alas – he finds himself surprisingly enamoured with those little smiles of his at times.
"What?"
The other Maia's voice interrupts his train of thought. Vanimóre freezes, realising that he may have still been listening through their connection.
"Hm?"
His fëa shrouds itself in feigned innocence.
"What is cute? Certainly not a bunch of kinslayers?"
He bites his lip in embarrassment, but thanks to his quick wit he swiftly picks up on the latter half of his statement and seizes the opportunity to turn the conversation around.
"So that's what you weren't telling me. They are guilty indeed, and you know exactly why."
Navëquen lets out a small snort. "It weighs so heavily on them, I can practically sense their regret with both eyes closed. Whether this shall be counted in their favour or not, Lord Námo may decide."
He clasps his hands behind his back, chin raised in defiance, and it's Vanimóre's turn to smirk. Oh, he knows all too well that the poor thing is now mentally berating himself for giving up his insight too easily. The two of them have a way of messing with one another that's quite simply unparalleled; a welcome distraction from their often monotonous and gloomy tasks.
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Characters: Navëquen/Vanimóre
Synopsis: [Double drabble] Two Maiar of Námo, counterparts, each wishing the other was his.
Warnings: The prompt is the warning in itself
He was pale like porcelain, standing at their lord's side like a finely crafted figurine, silent and loyal.
Vanimóre found himself entranced by his counterpart as he watched him in secret instead of listening to Námo's judgement. Despite his best efforts to remain in the shadows and not draw too much attention, keeping his expression neutral and his head bowed, Navëquen was a sight to behold. He could be perfect in Vanimóre's eyes; if only his heart belonged to him like it should.
Words couldn't describe how he loathed the viridian ribbons braided into his hair, how he loathed the way his beloved looked at Námo instead of him–so full of admiration, devotion, love.
He is my counterpart, only mine. My precious, perfect doll, not yours to possess, not yours to toy with, Vanimóre thought, red eyes lighting up in the darkness of Mandos.
Vala or not, Navëquen was his, not Námo's, and one day he would have him all to himself.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Navëquen stared at the floor in front of his feet, hands clasped together. Despite his best efforts to listen to what Námo was saying, his thoughts kept going back to a certain Maia standing close by.
Oh, how he hated it when his presence kept him from focusing. Vanimóre, beautiful and arrogant, his colleague and counterpart, holding his heart in his hands. Hundreds of small details about him had Navëquen collected over the years, committed to his memory and immortalised on the pages of his sketchbook; thousands of dreams and fantasies plagued his mind day in and day out.
If only he could call this pretty thing his own, yet he was not so lucky. He had tried to show his affection of course, but Vanimóre never seemed to take him seriously, playing it off as a joke.
So proud, so cocky.
And I still wish I could be good enough.
Navëquen felt like he was being stared at, yet he stubbornly kept his gaze down. He wished to daydream for a while longer, allow his mind to wander and imagine what it would be like to have his counterpart all to himself.
If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡
“ You may lie about the past, yet the truth always remains like a shadow upon your fëa ”
Some of you may have already read about Navëquen, a Maia of Námo tasked with upholding law, order and justice, on @edensrose's wonderful Ainur blogs.
After many of you gave positive feedback in regards to OC content on my blog, I decided to compose an info doc to formally introduce Navëquen to you. I hope you'll enjoy learning more about him!
◇ info doc
◇ Navë art by @ela-draws
◇ twin fates, a lovely fic written by @edensrose, featuring Navëquen and his counterpart Vanimóre
◇ a fun little interaction between the two on Vanimóre's blog
◇ a wip of a lovely artwork featuring them by @edensrose
Vanimóre: Look I practiced my shapeshifting. I can do snakes now
Navëquen: Let me see
Vanimóre: (shapeshifts)
Navëquen: (boops his nose) Heehee you have a face like a puppy
Vanimóre: >:3
Vanimóre: Behold my snake form! One of Arda's greatest predators, dangerous and magnificent, with fangs like daggers and venom that paralyzes even the fánar of Maiar-
Navëquen: Angry noodle goes boop :] (boops the snoot)
