I Info I Smutmission I FAQ I Schedule I
This is the event tumblr for the Tolkien Pinup Calendar fandom event. This is an 18+ event and an 18+ tumblr. This event is to support fandom artists and a place to find that đ¶ïžspicyđ¶ïž Tolkien fandom content. For more information on the event see the FAQ page!
It's that time of the year again! Kinktober is back! The mods from @tolkienpinupcalendar and @acorn-and-oakleaves have come up with 30 đ¶spicy promptsđ¶ïž (And one free space).
There are once again three levels, with White Chocolate prompts being light lightest and Dark Chocolate being the darkest spiciest. Have fun mixing and matching or sticking with one level! The choice is yours.
For bagginshield works feel free to tag both @tolkienpinupcalendar and @acorn-and-oakleaves. If you are working on other ships from Middle Earth feel free to just tag @tolkienpinupcalendar.
Any ships welcome!
We look forward to seeing what you create!
Mods @tolkienpinupcalendar and @acorn-and-oakleaves
hi! can I ask some questions? what does "hue cow" mean? when I google it, I find a lot of references to human cows, but nothing with the spelling above. and what exactly does breeding stock refer to in this context?
Hi Anon!
So Hue cow (sometimes HuCow) normally refers to "human cow" like you said. It is related to a lactation kink (i.e. producing milk) and often will intersect with breeding kink and some type of animal play (think similar to puppy play) though in this context with a cow type animal and perhaps on a farm setting. You can take that how you will.
Breeding stocks are pretty much what they sound like. It's a stock, something that restrains someone but specifically with the intent to "breed" them.
It's that time of year again! Time to cozy up with blankets and hot cocoa, and read some beautifully crafted Dead Dove Smut . . . Everyone does that, right?
We are bringing Dead Dove December back with all new prompts!
This year we are switching it up with some song prompts and some quotes. Let us know if you like these, we will try and include more!
As always, any fic, moodboard, fanart, edit, etc is allowed to be submitted!
To submit:
1) Tag us @tolkienpinupcalendar
2) use the tag #tpcdeaddovedecember
3) use the smutmissions form here
For December, we are once again teaming up with @hanukkahbingo to bring you some naughty prompts for the Festival of Lights!
@hanukkahbingo is a panfandom event so these prompts are open to anyone. This Tumblr will be reblogging all of the Tolkien-related content and @hanukkahbingo will reblog for any fandom!
Even if you aren't jewish feel free to participate!!
As always, any fic, moodboard, fanart, edit, etc is allowed to be submitted!
To submit:
1) Tag us @tolkienpinupcalendar and @hanukkahbingo
2) use the tag #tpc8nightsofsmut
3) use the smutmissions form here
Thank you so much @aimmyarrowshigh for working with us to bring you these prompts!
We look forward to seeing what you create!
Mods, @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book, @frosticenow and @bellejolras
And this was my last kinktober fic! Sorry for coming in just a little late, but I do hope you guys enjoy! Big thanks to @acorn-and-oakleaves and @tolkienpinupcalendar for the prompt list!
Taken Pleasures
Prompts:Â Knife Play, Kidnapping
Additional Warnings: CNC, Bondage
Words:Â 3021
Summary: Bilbo confessed a fantasy to Thorin. One that involved getting kidnapped off his feet and whisked away to be used how his captor sees fit. Perhaps it is just a coincidence that Bilbo's schedule had been cleared for the day, and then again, perhaps Thorin had been listening very intently.
Bilboâs schedule had been cleared for the day. He had questioned his clerk, clearly having misheard him, but the fact remained that there wasnât a single thing needed of the Consort of Erebor that day. Perhaps that in of itself wouldnât have been too suspicious had it not come in the wake of Bilboâs confession to his husband.
He had a sexual fantasy. One that involved being plucked right off his feet by strong dwarven arms, taken away into the unknown, tied up, and abused until his kingly husband paid the ransom to save him. Thorin hadnât shown any outward reaction to it at the time beyond a nod and a polite hum. Clearly, he had been thinking about it too though. For not only was Bilbo magically free, but there were currently no guards in the hallway. He had no idea what awaited him in their bedroom, but he was quite eager to find out.
Only he never made it to the bedroom.
From a darkened hallway, one large arm wrapped around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides. The other held a cloth over his mouth. Bilboâs first instinct was to give a muffled scream and a desperate squirm.Â
âShh, hobbit. No one is going to come save you.â
The voice was a near whisper, clearly trying to disguise itself, if it hadnât been a voice Bilbo had heard a hundred times as they lay beside each other in bed. Bilboâs next squirm was less about getting away, and more to do with the strong twitch of his suddenly half-erect cock. Bilboâs eyes were getting heavy and he realized the cloth that smelled sickeningly sweet had to be doused in some sort of sleep herbs. That was odd. Why did he want him asleep? Bilbo couldnât even ask him as the will to move or say anything faded with each breath.Â
âThatâs it.â His kidnapper cooed. âWeâll get you nice and tucked away where your husband will never find you.â
Bilbo felt himself getting dragged backwards not even able to lift a foot to help when he lost consciousness altogether.
For more of this chapter, please click the AO3 link above!
Thanks to the lovely responses to my poll, I shall give this another go then this year!
As always, the list will be updated with pairings as we go along, and you're very welcome to send in suggestions/requests (that I might or might not accept. At this point, I've done enough prompt lists to have worked up a good catalogue of characters and pairings)
In general, that means no Hobbits except Bilbo/Thorin, no humans except Faramir/Ăowyn or Boromir/OC (and also only if @scyllas-revenge asks), no FĂli/Ori, no dwarf incest)
The prompt list this year comes from @cilil and can be found here.
Whenever possible (or desired), I'll add some prompts from @tolkienpinupcalendar's list as well. It can be found here.
Thank you, friend!
Prompts will be under the cut!
handcuffs âź remote control (& 17 Immobilisation) Thorin x Bilbo
choking âź humiliation/degradation (& 7 Non-penetrative sex)- Glorfindel x Erestor for @amorbidcorvid
service kink âź orgy (& 25 Face slapping) - Finrod x Celegorm x Curufin (with a hint of human servant)
massaging âź tender sex - Boromir x OC (continuation of this story)
chastity âź telepathy (& 21 Monsterfucking) - Ori x Maglor for my husband
cnc âź rimming (& 16 Sex Contracts)- Maeglin x Mairon for @elennalore
intoxication âź outdoor sex (& 19 Bukkake)- Finrod x Maedhros x Fingon
pain play âź orgasm control (& 28 Painful sex) - Annatar x Celebrimbor
oviposition, sounding, blood play, omegaverse, fucking machine, tentacles, hypnosis, hate fucking & writerâs choice (& 31 Free Space) Voyeurism- NĂĄmo x VairĂ« x the sons of FĂ«anor
originally made for @tolkienpinupcalendar's Kinktober 2025 prompt list Day 12 (except this took me longer than expected, thus posting it on the Day 31 instead)
....only for me to realize that these prompts are for writing đ€Ą
ah well, i'm not immune to being blindsided by the horny â feel free to ignore it (since i'm not sure if this applies within the confines of the event?) but i did want to shout out what got me inspired
Pairing: Nåmo x Vairë...and let yourself be surprised
Words: 4010
Warnings: nudity, blood as lube, bondage, orgasm denial, non-con, object insertion, immobilisation, unusual masturbation, coming untouched, reference to pregnancy, incubation, oral sex, submission, sensory deprivation, vaginal sex
âYouâve truly outdone yourself,â NĂĄmo exclaimed as he took in the beautiful dreamscape his brother had crafted.
âThank you,â Irmo bowed, visibly doubtful, and turned to leave.
At the edge of the fantasy heâd conjured up, he paused. âI do not like to question you. Youâre my elder, and I couldnât respect you more. Nevertheless, I do not know whether I can approve of your plan.â
The Judge merely smiled beneath his translucent veil. âHow am I to gauge their readiness if not by putting them to a test?â
Reluctantly, Irmo nodded. He disliked the notion that his brother and good-sister were intruding upon the realms and responsibilities of his own dear spouse and himself, and heâd have preferred that NĂĄmo leave all notions of present and future healing to them.
Still, he didnât want to fight with one he revered, and so he bowed curtly. âDo as you please, but be assured that EstĂ« and I will be ready to intervene should you call upon us.â
âThatâs good to know, I thank you,â NĂĄmo replied graciously, watching the architect of his little experimentâs playground fade away progressively.
âWho to start with?â another voice came from behind him, tense and tremulous.
VairĂ« had watched and witnessed for so long that her sensitive, skilful fingers were twitching with impatience. She yearned to be, just for a single moment, the one to hold and pull the strings of fate and see those whoâd caused her such grief dance at their ends like puppets.
âTurcafinwĂ«,â NĂĄmo declared in his usual calm, decisive manner. âHis desires are simple and brutish, and it will be easy to fulfil them.â
Remembering the feats of valour and cruelty that had been perpetrated by the fair, strong hunter, Vairë cocked her head pensively.
âDo not be deceived, my dear heart,â she warned. âUnder that feral veneer slumbers a fearsome strength of character and a dangerously sharp mind.â
âSharp, yes,â NĂĄmo purred. âBlades and blood for young Tyelko, I think.â
Then, as he saw that his wife was still unconvinced, he laid a masterful, possessive hand upon her fair brow.
âFret not, my love,â he whispered. âNo matter how imperious and unbending he might believe himself to be, weâre of a might that far exceeds the petty hierarchies and rivalries that rule their love and lust, are we not?â
VairĂ« felt as if the thread of her own essence had been pulled tautâshe shivered in apprehension.
Mayhap, she considered worriedly, they were about to meddle in intricate dynamics that even the most delicate and blessed of fingers couldnât mend once theyâd been carelessly unravelled.
Alas, NĂĄmo had spoken, and she was unwilling as Irmo to contradict one who knew what others could never even guess.
âVery well,â she sighed. âLet me retrieve my good scissors and then, we shall commence.â
She felt NĂĄmoâs satisfied smile more than she could actually discern it under the shifting veil, but his pleasure and faith heartened her considerably.
And so, it began.
Disoriented and inherently uncomfortable, TurcafinwĂ« Tyelkormo took an instinctive step forward, which made him realise thatâfor the first time in foreverâhe had feet again to feel the cold, damp ground beneath him.
âWho goes there?â he called into the dark forest surrounding him.
It felt, smelt, and looked achingly familiar, and yet he was sure that heâd never walked the path stretching out before him.
No answer came.
Was this another punishment? A test?
On the one hand, his instinct told him to stay put, but he was too delighted with the sensation of his flexing muscles to remain still, so he took another step forward.
Suddenly, the roots and mossy branches of the trees curled around his limbs, immobilising him.
Bellowing in anger and alarm, Turcafinwë struggled to no avail.
âWhat do you desire?â a sibilant voice behind him asked, and then, a cold, hard blade was dragged up along his spine, sending shivers of old-familiar excitement racing along his nerves.
âFreedom,â he hissed, but he got the uncanny sense that whoever had trapped him knew that he was lying, for that unseen knife now grazed along his hip, leaving a trail of sharp pain in its wake.
TurcafinwĂ« gasped. By now, he was so thoroughly enmeshed in the greenery that he couldnât even turn his head to see the hand that wielded the weapon.
He was dead, he reminded himself. They couldnât kill him, so what was the purpose of leaving tiny, harmless cuts all over his body?
As he felt tiny trickles of thick, hot blood run across his belly and down his legs in prickling rivulets, he was reminded of his long-lost lovers and the dangerous, exhilarating games theyâd engage in.
âWho are you?â he asked, hating how tremulous and throaty his voice had grown.
If heâd been able to look down, he knew that he would have seen his cock, standing proud and demanding, as his mind was filled with raunchy recollections.
Still, no reply while the incorporeal entity continued to carve intricate patterns into his chest and thighs, a ritual reminiscent of the rites of passage heâd known under OromĂ«âs guidance.
âPlease,â he whispered as the pressure building in his core eclipsed all rational thought and justified wariness.
To prove that heâd no longer try to resist, he closed his eyes and willed his muscles to relaxâall he wanted was to revel in this unlooked-for blessing that brought him back to his carefree, happy youth.
An unseen hand slid along his torso, setting his countless shallow wounds ablaze with tingling pleasure-pain, and then curled around his swaying member resolutely.
With a guttural cry, Turcafinwë tried to snap his hips, light-headed with the sensation of feeling his own hot, sticky blood against his most sensitive skin.
Remembering ĂrissĂ«, covered in the blood of the sacrificial stag, and OromĂ«âs sharp nails gouging deep scores into his bare back as they pulsed into one anotherâs flesh was enough to push TurcafinwĂ« over the edge.
Morifinwë blinked warily at the incongruous room he found himself in.
Heâd been convinced that heâd heard a soft, lilting voice chanting unintelligible words of inveiglement, but the chamber was empty.
Along the walls, there were several dark windows, and he walked towards them in hopes of finding the source of the strange enchantment that had brought him hither.
As he approached the first pane of smoky glass, though, a light came on, and he recognised FindarĂĄto, whom heâd always desired without ever finding the courage to approach him.
MorifinwĂ« had ever resented ArafinwĂ«âs golden son for making him feel so needy and unloved at the same time, so he couldnât suppress an impulsive wave of satisfaction at seeing his accomplished kinsman spread out on an unmade bed, visibly aroused and frustrated.
He could be yours, a voice insinuated.
Ever wary of gifts and blessings, Morifinwë averted his gaze and moved on.
The next cage contained TurukĂĄno, another half-cousin, whoâd never had a gentle word to spare for MorifinwĂ«.
Heâd been chained to the legs of a beautiful oaken desk, lying face down on the polished surface, and MorifinwĂ« gave a small gasp of involuntary approval at the sight of TurukĂĄnoâs bulging muscles as he desperately tried to break his chains.
More than that, though, it was the way his position bared him that drew MorifinwĂ«âs greedy attention; he could see the pale, puckered hole, dripping with lube, that seemed to be positively begging to be filled.
Resisting the siren song of invitation valiantly, Morifinwë stumbled to the last window in the row.
Behind it, Haleth of the Haladin, the woman whoâd broken his heart by deserting him, knelt on a rug, her rosy lips parted and her fiery eyes half-lidded with desire.
âThis is a dream,â MorifinwĂ« scoffed. âA nightmare of revenge and unquenched desire.â
As if to prove him wrong, the glass panes shattered into black dust, allowing for desperate pleas and throaty moans to inundate him where he stood.
Morifinwë struggled for as long as he could, but ultimately, his thirst for retribution and reparations was too strong to withstand.
Too long and too often had he fantasised about making these very people beg for his attention, and he couldnât forego the chance to fulfil the lewd, wicked dreams heâd hidden throughout his whole life.
Consequently, he stepped into the room and let Haleth swarm all over him, kissing and sucking every inch of his skin.
Next, he allowed himself to pound into TurukĂĄnoâs wide-open body until that proud, imperious giant was reduced to a whimpering, twitching mess.
Last, he dipped his fingers into the slick his previous victims had left behind and prepared himself before lowering himself onto FindarĂĄtoâs painfully swollen cock.
Nevertheless, he withdrew from that union before his cousin could climax.
Returning to his previous position, MorifinwĂ« stroked himself languidly, basking in the curses and supplications from those heâd left behind unsatisfied.
The sense of well-deserved triumph and victory pushed him over the edge.
As experienced hunters whoâd seen many an enchanted forest, the twins were aware and sure of two things: theyâd been hypnotised by a fell, unseen power, and they were now actively being hunted.
Exchanging one single meaningful glance, they ran.
Blurry tree trunks and overly bright greenery flashed past them until they came up short on the shore of a dark, ominous lake.
âIâm not going in there,â Amrod whispered.
âNo, weâd better not,â Amras agreed.
Still, they could feel their pursuerâs hot, panting breath on the back of their necks, coming ever closer, so they frantically scanned the shoreline for another path.
Before they could find an alternate route, though, they caught a shadow of movement from beneath the glassy surface of the softly undulating water.
Instinctively, they patted their hips in search of a weapon, butâto their dismayâthey found that they were entirely naked. Had this been so since the beginning?
âStay with me!â
As natural as the stars wheeling overhead, their hands slotted together, building an unbreakable link that would tether themâif not to life itselfâat least to the one thing they couldnât bear to lose.
Behind them, the lake erupted into a fountain of spraying water as countless long, slithering tentacles burst forth, curling possessively around the twin bodies and limbs of the fearless youths.
âAh, we always knew that there were creatures out there that were bigger and better hunters,â Amrod said, something uncannily akin to delight flaring to life in his eyes.
âAn honour, Iâm sure, to be bested by such a monster,â Amras once again agreed freely.
They expected to be torn apart and braced for the short burst of agony before another long bout of blissful oblivion.
Alas, the mostly hidden monstrosity holding them merely let its smooth, slick appendages slide along their strong flesh searchingly.
âIs itâŠcaressing us?â Amras gasped and flinched as a slender, greenish tendril wrapped around his cock and stroked him languidly.
âDonât resist,â Amrod cautioned breathlessly as a similarly shaped tentacle started exploring his behind, snaking its way unerringly to the tightly puckered hole nestled between his firm cheeks.
Tightening their hold on one anotherâs hands desperately, the twins were borne aloft, held up by the immeasurable power of the lakeâs gruesome inhabitant.
Effectively immobilised, they could do nought but relent as more and more tentacles rose from the depths to spread their legs and invade every accessible orifice.
As their mouths were now filled with thick, rippling fleshâtasting vaguely of algae and saltâthey could no longer speak to one another, but their fingers remained intertwined even as shivers of reluctant lust threatened to break that last remaining bond.
The desolate bank and the churning lake blurred before their eyes as the maddeningly fragmented attentions lavished upon them bent their flesh to their captorâs will.
Muffled screams of involuntary ecstasy escaped them, and then their seed trickled down, along slowly retreating tentacles to join the haunted essence of the accursed lake.
Waking from fitful slumber, haunted by words he couldnât quite make out, CurufinwĂ« tried to sit up.
The jarring jolt of firm restraints breaking that natural, instinctive movement made his muscles bunch and scream in agony.
He opened his eyes and blinked against the glare of gleaming steel and polished leather in confusion.
Averting his gaze, he caught sight of his own stomach.
It took a moment for him to fully realise that he shouldnât have been able to gaze upon his abdomen, expanding and deflating at a rapid rateâhe was naked for some unfathomable reason.
At a single glance, he had to concede that whatever machine he was strapped into was breathtaking in its intricacy and masterful execution.
As a gifted crafter and famed smith, Curufinwë, the Younger, could truly appreciate every bolt and seamless transition that made up this peculiar, foreign contraption.
At once, he wished that he werenât immobilised where he sat, for he much yearned to inspect the whole sordid scene in more detail.
Thus, he craned his neck and twisted in place as much as he could, only to gather precious little useful information.
As far as he could tell, he was chained to a surprisingly comfortable, warm seat under which a myriad of pipes and other parts seemed to be nestled. Unfortunately, CurufinwĂ« couldnât make out much from his restricted vantage point.
âWhat is this?â he called. âIâm not amused!â
In lieu of an answer, the machine to which he was inescapably tethered started purring softly, and Curufinwë thought he recognised the telltale sound of hydraulic mechanisms revving up.
First, a stream of thick, hot liquid rose up to bathe his bare behind, revealing that the surface Curufinwë was sitting on was not a solid cushion but had a hole to allow for such incongruous intrusions.
Next, despite his desperate attempts to squirm away, something smooth and firm pressed against his flesh, parting his clenched cheeks inexorably and nudging against his entrance with mechanical precision.
Had he not been so utterly terrified, Curufinwë might have been able to appreciate the delicious irony in the fact that, after designing and building countless machines to further their war efforts, he was about to be torn asunder by one such appliance, assembled by unfathomably skilled hands.
Consumed by his professional curiosity and increasingly insistent sensations of arousal, he shifted his weight, which only drove the maddening intrusion further into his body.
Another loud, hissing groan resounded.
In the deafening roar of the horrid contraption wheezing to life, Curufinwë closed his eyes and willed his flesh to relax, for he could foresee what would happen next.
He, whoâd been woefully mistaken about so many things in his life, was proven right as the unseen implement was slowly raised until it was fully sheathed within CurufinwĂ«âs helplessly writhing body.
âSo smooth,â he gasped, admiring the flawless motions of the thing as it started pounding into him at a steady pace that soon drove him to begging for release.
Kanafinwë Makalaurë sang out a tentative note and gasped as the very darkness around him seemed to vibrate in answer.
More than that, though, he felt a part of himself thrumâhis shoulders jerked forward vainly, for his hands had been shackled behind his back.
And yet, he sensed that he wasnât alone in the inky blackness that surrounded and swallowed him.
Someone was here, watching, waiting, witnessing as his confusion gave way to horror.
Someone had inserted the thin metal rod into his body while heâd been under a potent spell that had made him oblivious to all that was done to the most fragile and intimate parts of his anatomy.
Throughout his extended, miserable life, KanafinwĂ« had known a fair number of lovers, and heâd tried his hand at various sexual practices.
He was also no stranger to the concept of sounding rodsâheâd once made a hundred of them resonate with the might of his voice.
Alas, this was in no way comparable to that triumph of his early career as a singer, which had cemented his reputation as both a fearsome opponent and a gifted musician.
âIngenious,â he whispered. âDevious.â
And even this muted exclamation of grudging amazement made his cock twitch around the torturously solid intrusion, exacerbating the not entirely odious feeling of fullness.
Still, the unseen presence stalking around him at a safe distance made no sound to alleviate the oppressive silence, only broken by the prisonerâs gasping sighs.
âDo you believe me to be afraid?â KanafinwĂ« intoned, letting his strong, melodious voice ring out clearly. âI have been alone with myself for so longâthereâs little I wouldnât try to break the monotony of my wretched solitude.â
And so, he sang.
KanafinwĂ« knew when he had an audienceâit had been an uncanny talent of his since his earliest childhoodâand he revelled in it.
Without being able to lay a single finger on his own flesh to relieve the mounting pressure, he made the slim pole, ensconced firmly in his flesh, hum with the echo of his most precious talent.
Suddenly, there was a sound akin to fabric sliding off a worktable onto a stone floor.
Falling silent at once, Kanafinwë quested the wavering obscurity around him.
A pale hand materialised slowly, reaching through the seemingly endless expanse of nothingness.
Then, a single finger flicked the rod in KanafinwĂ«âs cock almost playfully.
The immobilised captiveâs head fell back, dark locks spilling along his bare back like a river of silk, as unabashedly obscene sounds started gushing from his rosy lips.
Any note escaping Kanafinwë was imbued with terrible power, though, and so that single touch seemed to stretch out endlessly, radiating maddening heat through every fibre of his being.
Screaming and roaring, he struggled against his tethers, desperate to free himself and take control of the situation.
In the end, the famed musician was turned into an invaluable instrument himself, as disembodied hands coaxed his helpless flesh into a roaring, mind-numbing crescendo.
Nelyafinwë Maitimo, blessed firstborn son of Fëanåro the Great Spirit of Fire and fell Doom, sat up gingerly.
Confused by his lavish surroundings, he drew his knees to his chest warilyâheâd once before found himself in such a beautifully decorated, supremely comfortable bed.
It had been a lie. It had been a trap.
Thus, he didnât trust the unlooked-for blessing and kept very still, questing the air for telltale sounds or smells that would betray the gold-tipped fingers puppeteering him still.
When nothing happened and nobody came forth, he paid closer attention to the odd chamber heâd found himself in.
In many a way, it reminded him of the luxurious rooms his father had once prepared for his mother whenever sheâd been heavy with child.
These, he realised, were the apartments of a queen who was about to bring forth the hopeful light of a new generationâhis heart sank.
How often had he desperately wished that such a thing were possible? If he and FindekĂĄno could have produced an heir to reconcile their families and ensure the future of their shared line, it would have been so much easier to stave off the darkness gnawing at them relentlessly.
Overwhelmed by the viciousness of those memories, Nelyafinwë fell back into the soft, perfumed pillows and threw an arm across his face to shut out the inescapable reality of his unhappy shortcomings.
After a while, he decided to get out of bed and investigate further.
Alas, he was unable to move. Panic rose, bitter and sharp, in his throat as he desperately tried to pry his forearm from his visage to see, but his muscles wouldnât obey.
Cool hands grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs apart with dispassionate efficiency that lacked both the tenderness of a lover and the cruelty of a foe.
Next, spindly fingers brushed against his hole, liberally smearing a tingling ointment across the sensitive skin.
Groaning softly through his gritted teeth, NelyafinwĂ« wished he could stir, even though he wasnât entirely sure whether heâd have flinched away or arched into that incongruously efficient touch.
Little by little, his quickly numbing flesh was worked open, and the paralysed wretch came to a sobering conclusion: something would be inserted into his body, andâby the extent and length of the preparationsâthere was a good chance that this foreign object would be sizeable.
Once more, he tried to cast off the shackles of his stasis to no avail.
His unseen torturer tutted softly, and then something warm and rounded bumped against his mercilessly overstimulated hole.
A short time later, Nelyafinwë felt the other withdraw with a satisfied hum.
Meanwhile, he felt uncomfortably full as he clenched helplessly around the huge item that had been shoved into him with calm precision.
âRest,â a hollow voice commanded. âAnd stay warm.â
Finally, Nelyafinwë managed to move, sluggish and alarmingly off-balance.
Staring down at his bulging stomach in horror, he felt the thing within him pulsate in time with his heart.
VairĂ« looked up from NĂĄmoâs lap, her shapely lips stretched around his swollen cock, and gave an approving purr.
âHeâll do well,â the Judge declared with innate authority. âA new dawn is upon us, my love!â
Bobbing her head in acquiescence, the Weaver made sure to swirl her tongue and hollow her cheeks just right to tear another guttural groan out of her beloved husband.
Had there been other ways to put the infamous brood of a wicked genius to the test? Undoubtedly!
Nevertheless, theyâd grown weary of the impuissant idleness that had been imposed upon them from above, and so theyâd tacitly agreed to be as active as they could.
There had been but one chance, and theyâd exploited and exhausted it thoroughly.
Of course, Irmo would be displeased once he heard that his lovingly crafted dreamscapes had been perverted, but the passionate lovers were, nevertheless, convinced that they could make him see the wisdom of their ways.
âJust look at him,â NĂĄmo purred, stroking his wifeâs hair possessively as they gazed at the shadowy mirror showing them their various captives in the throes of their own most depraved fantasies.
âI feel that looking at them is all weâve done thus far, love,â VairĂ« said, her lips beautifully wet and plump as she finally let go of her husbandâs member and sat back on her haunches.
âNot like this,â NĂĄmo contradicted.
When his wifeâs sharp fingers unravelled the cloak upon his trembling body like a mere skein of tangled wool to lay him bare, he gave a low, warning hiss, but VairĂ« had been his for too long to be disheartened or dissuaded by so feeble a protest.
âWell done, my sweetling,â she purred as she climbed atop him to rut against his slender, firm thighs provocatively.
âI couldnât have done it without you,â he said with feigned humility. âYour knotwork is, as ever, flawless. I wonder whether our peers miss the tools weâve borrowed from their realms.â
âNo matter,â VairĂ« scoffed and waved an indolent hand to let her own robe flow down her full body like water. âHave you seen enough, husband? What about your darkest desires?â
Drawing the rippling darkness of his realm up to cloak them, NĂĄmo seized his wife by her strong arms and lifted her effortlessly until she was hovering just above his woefully neglected cock.
âYou,â he growled. âItâs always you. Here. Now.â
Vairë usually seldom left her own workroom, so it was a rare boon to have her ride him, hard and fast, while the shadowy edges of the timeless Halls curled and shivered around them.
She bound him without deploying a single thread and filled the endless depth of the abyss he inhabited with meaning and purpose.
Thus, overcome with a sense of love and devotion none of his wards could ever fully fathom, NĂĄmo surged into his wife with unfettered, near-brutal fervour.
âMaster,â she whispered into his ear. âRegent of vast nothingness. Iâm yours.â
Basking in his unleashed power of enchantment and control, NĂĄmo bellowed loudly as he climaxed.
As the Lord of Lies, Annatar sensed that Celebrimbor was holding something back, and it irked him that he was patently unable to figure out what he was hiding.
Cunning and determined, heâd tried charm, seduction, and other psychological games to no avail, so the only remaining option was violence.
Striding into their artfully chaotic bedchamber, the often-renamed but never truly reformed Maia hesitated, nonetheless. What if he was, once again, overreaching? Mayhap, Celebrimborâs secret pertained to his accursed family or complex inner life and had nothing to do with their work or relationship.
Before he could be entirely sure that this was a bridge worth burning, heâd restrain himself.
This resolution was at once solidified by the sheer beauty of his loverâs face as he turned around to greet Annatar with a wide smile and an inviting gesture.
âMy love,â Annatar purred, unable to shake his dark suspicions. âYouâd never lie to me or betray me, would you?â
Cocking his head, the other failed to answer at first.
âNot willingly, no,â he then said cautiously. âWhere does this come from?â
âItâs just nerves,â Annatar tried to wave his uncalled-for intensity aside, but Celebrimbor was too smart and perspicacious to be this easily fooled.
âThen, it might be your turn to be honest,â he smiled. âWhat would dispel those stormy clouds gathering upon your fair brow?â
âBe mine,â Annatar exclaimed at once. âProve to me that you are.â
Celebrimbor swallowed as the taste of danger crackled across his tongueâheâd always known that this mysterious emissary heâd invited into his heart and bed harboured an alarming and exciting penchant for inflicting pain on those around him.
In the case of FĂ«anorâs skilled, witty grandson, that twinge of discomfort was usually but a dusting of tingling snow atop a mountain of pleasure, but Celebrimbor had witnessed the boundless potential for real cruelty flashing through Annatarâs eyes whenever someone less important to him happened to annoy him in any way.
Brave to the point of foolishness, Celebrimbor lifted his chin and blinked in acquiescence. âDo with me as you please then.â
The devious undercurrent thrumming in his melodious voice instantly caught Annatarâs attention, and his uncannily bright, shrewd gaze blazed with unbanked eagerness and greed.
âDo you mean it?â
âSure,â Celebrimbor laughed, casting off the dusty, stained clothes heâd worn in the forge. âPinch me, slap me, make me beg. Whatever wicked fantasyâs haunted your nights, this is your opportunity to implement them in meticulous detail.â
Even as he spoke those words, Celebrimbor became aware of the shifting atmosphere. His muscles tensed instinctively, and his pupils dilated with excitement and existential fear.
No matter who Annatar really was, it was incontestable that he wielded immense power, andâgiven his family historyâCelebrimbor should have been more careful.
Alas, it was too late for second-guessing or hasty amendments to his words.
Before he could even begin to unlace his breeches, they were torn roughly from his legs, and short, impressively sharp nails scraped along the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs hard enough to draw blood.
The ferocity of the attack, paired with the exact location of those gouges, made Celebrimbor groan involuntarily.
âYouâre not to do a thing without my say-so,â Annatar commanded, throwing his wide-eyed paramour onto the bed so vehemently that Celebrimbor felt his bones rattle within him.
Heâd always suspected that Annatar wasnât deploying his full strength, but to see and feel the raw power heâd dissimulated behind affable flattery and jovial charm, nevertheless, made his skin crawl with arousal.
With an impossibly elegant leap, Annatar landed beside him and pinned him to the soft cushions, gleaming teeth bared in a rictus of humourless triumph.
âIf necessary, Iâd claw the truth out of you,â he purred in what might have been a sensual promise or a lethal threatâCelebrimbor didnât care to find out.
And, true to his word, he dug his steely fingers into Celebrimborâs yielding flesh with bruising force as if to brand him with amorous brutality.
âMine,â he hissed, sinking his teeth into the bunching muscles of his loverâs defensively drawn-up shoulder savagely.
Annatar stilled, afraid that heâd gone too far. Had he betrayed his identity and true nature inadvertently? He was disgusted with himselfânot only because heâd previously decided against this course of action, but mainly because he loved Celebrimbor as much as such a maudlin thing was within his scope of achievable emotions.
He didnât want to destroy him. Not yet.
And then, Celebrimbor arched his back, rutting shamelessly against Annatarâs thigh, thus turning the whole situation on its head yet again.
âDo you like that?â Annatar scoffed, half-shocked and half-fascinated beyond what words could describe.
âYou wonât break me,â Celebrimbor bit out, chest heaving with confused desire.
âIs that a challenge, little Elf?â
Overcome with a need to tear and wrench that ridiculous paper doll of a man apart between his almighty hands, Annatar reached down to free his straining cock and squeezed hard to contain Celebrimborâs climax.
Heâd mapped Celebrimborâs body, committing every curve and dip of firm flesh to his depthless memory, so he didnât falter or fumble as he pressed against the tight, pink ring of muscle.
As he looked down, Annatar saw that his darkness, which had bled into their lovemaking, had swallowed every last ember of treelight in Celebrimborâs eyes.
âLetâs see how resilient you really are,â he crowed and thrust into the tense heat of Celebrimborâs body without further warning.
A scream tore itself from the Elfâs throat, and his hips stuttered in their unbroken surge against Annatarâs enticingly sculptural body.
âFire,â Celebrimbor ground out in a broken, husky voice. âFeels like home.â
His body was aflame with pulsating pain and delirious delight as Annatarâs forceful strokes made the small wounds heâd previously sustained bleed profusely.
Before long, he felt lightheaded. Still, he refused to plead for mercyâheâd glimpsed the raw need and unfettered darkness swirling in his loverâs soul, and he was resolved to offer any help he could provide.
Abuse, heâd once learned, was just another, purer form of true love.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Reading and Riding
Rating: E
Word Count: 4,069
He'd been kneeling for what felt like hours before their hearth, waiting for Thorin to return. Each breath shifting his chest and the delicate lace hugging his rounded frame.
Written as a part of the @tolkienpinupcalendar and @acorn-and-oakleaves Kinktober 2025 Event. Event post here!
Prompts: Thigh Riding, Garters
This was my first attempt at PWP, I hope you enjoy! đđ
Ladies First (Baby, I Insist) - Fem!Bagginshield (The Queer Strip Club AU)
âDoâŠâ Thorin trailed off, thinking back to her previous words and praying to whatever god would listen that she was right. That this wasnât too forward. âDo you know how to make a woman like me come?â
Bilbo paused, her brightly coloured drink frozen halfway to her mouth.
âThat would be telling,â she murmured, taking a sip. âI could describe â in detail, mind you â exactly how I would go about such a thing⊠or you could meet me in the bathroom in two minutes, and I could show you.â
(Worship)
2. Pet - Bagginshield (Oneshot)
âUnhand me, foul wretch.â
The seemingly harmless face that had greeted him when the blindfold was removed was that of a male hobbit... although there was something different about this creature. For one, there was an odd sheen to his skin, its paleness almost translucent beneath the faint green glow of the cave heâd been dragged into.
Then, of course, there were the tentacles.
Lobelia resented the insinuation that she was a thief. It was utterly inaccurate and highly offensive that much of Hobbiton thought her such. In recent days â after that blasted Bilbo Bagginsâ discovery of his missing spoons â she had noticed half of the Shire clutching their purses a little closer whenever passing her in the marketplace, holding their belongings behind skirts and deep in pockets.
Ludicrous, really. The very thought that she, Lobelia Bracegirdle, was no better than a common pickpocket or other neâre-do-well was laughable.
No, Lobelia rather thought she was better than that.
In fact, before the bloody teaspoons, she had never once been caught. In her estimation, that made her so much more than a mere thief.
(Knifeplay, Worship, Punishment)
4. She Might Be Your Girl (But She's Calling Me Daddy) - Fem!Nwalin (The Queer Strip Club AU)
âYou took somethinâ of mine, and I want it back.â
The woman laughed, her ridiculous earrings jangling as she gestured down over the equally ridiculous green thong and bra she was wearing.
Just ridiculous. Absolutely not enticing as hell.
âThen I guess youâll hafta search me for it, love,â she purred, pausing to hook a thumb behind the strap of her thong to make it lie flat against her curvy legs. âNot many places it could be.â
(Pole Dancing, Non-Penetrative Sex)
5. If You're Comin' Over (Put Those Papers Away) - Filiori (The Queer Strip Club AU)
âYou move fast, donât you?â
âMm, but is it working?â
Ori cast their eyes down, flicking them over FĂliâs jacket and shaggy blonde hair⊠and most importantly back to the photo of the book.
âIt⊠might be,â they murmured after a minute. âYou have my attention for half an hour, idiot number one. Donât waste it.â
(Non-Penetrative Sex)
6. Yet In Reverse You Are All My Symmetry - Bagginshield and Nwalin (LYL Series)
âAre you ready love?â he murmured, leaning over to rest his curly head against Thorinâs shoulder, straw hat knocking the collar of his coat.
Thorin found he was. Utterly and completely.
âI am, ĂązyungelĂȘ.â
So caught up in the bliss at having his husband all to himself, Thorin did not notice the figure watching from the battlements.
Or the pony that followed them.
Or: the Nwalin wedding. And the coup of AzsĂąlulâabad.
âI think Iâd rather like to show you just how much Iâve missed you,â Bilbo purred, nuzzling close enough to nip his earlobe. Through the veil of hair that cascaded over his face no one would have seen the gesture, but frankly Thorin wouldnât have cared if they had. âIâve spent quite some time putting together a little plan, you see, and Iâd hate to miss the opportunity now we have an actual bed for the night.â
Or: What happened after Bilbo and Thorin reunited in Rohan.
(Part of a series but can be read alone. See notes for more details)
(Immobilisation, Creampie)
8. Submissive Like a Guard Dog - Nwalin (LYL Series)
He was done waiting. Fisting his hand in the front of Noriâs shirt, he roughly dragged him back into the room, shutting the door behind them with a decisive click. The deadbolt was flicked across, the key turned, and then it was just them.
It seemed Noriâs eyes didnât know where to settle, and Dwalin watched with rapidly mounting pleasure as his gaze flickered down and over his mouth for a beat too long.
âWhat-â
âStop talking,â Dwalin growled before slamming his lips against the Spymasterâs open mouth.
Or: The continuation of Chapter 38 of An Inherited Heart.
(Non-Penetrative Sex, Worship)
9. Things We Buried Low - Nwalin (LYL Series)
âI like ya voice,â he blurted, cursing the way the words came out rushed and stuck together.
There was a little squeaky noise from behind him as Dwalin uncorked a flask of hair oil and began coating his hands in the substance.
âOh, aye?â he murmured, and Nori could hear the smile without seeing it.
âItâs uhh. Ya always sound⊠comfortinâ. Itâs stupid, I know-â
âI never said that,â Dwalin replied softly.
Or: What Balin walked in on in Chapter 43 of An Inherited Heart.
(Worship)
10. Lonely Like a Shadow - Nwalin (LYL Series)
âShit!â
Nori deeply suspected the Valar had a sick sense of humour where he was concerned.
The battle was finally over; the blood cleansed from his hair (for the second time) and his mind free to think of other, far more dangerous topics than being run through by an orc.
Namely, the fact that Dwalin had kissed him. Not only that, heâd kissed Dwalin back. And then kissed him again.
Oh fuck. He was absolutely and irrevocably screwed. He was so utterly screwed that unscrewing himself was something he could only fucking fantasise about at this juncture, because â and he couldnât overstate this enough â he. Was. Screwed.
FUCK.
Or: Nori's perspective of Submissive Like a Guard Dog.
DO NOT READ UNTIL AFTER CHAPTER 43 OF AN INHERITED HEART. CONTAINS SPOILERS.
(Non-Penetrative Sex, Worship)
11. Good Housewarming - Nwalin (LYL Series)
âFuck carts. I donât ever want to see another fuckinâ four-wheeled, slow as-you-like- oh Mahal, donât stop-â
âWasnât planninâ on it,â Dwalin rasped against his shoulder where heâd very nearly ripped Noriâs tunic in his hurry to get it away from his skin.
Theyâd arrived in the Shire thankfully before the snowfall had moved this far west, but not by long. The air outside was bitingly cold, and that had made anything more than a kiss on their journey next to impossible. Especially with a goldsick prince that needed watching.
But now, safe in Bilboâs smial, things could change for the better.
Or: Dwalin and Nori find a little free time after arriving in the Shire. Set during chapter 7 of A Stolen Throne.
FindekĂĄno leaned back against the soft grass and gazed dreamily at the soft, silvery glow of the endless firmament.
His thoughts were comfortably fuzzy, thanks to the truly excellent wine his cousin had stolen from his father for this occasion.
âDo you think heâs coming?â FindarĂĄto asked, interrupting himself in his emphatic reading of a long, licentious poem.
âWho knows?â the other replied, feigning indifference. âHe might be too prim and proper to drink stolen liquor in the forest with us. Or, maybe, one of his brothers had another fit.â
âOr his father had urgent need of him,â FindarĂĄto agreed with earnest commiseration and tapped the book in his lap suggestively. âBut what if our fair cousin appeared? What should we ask of him as reparation for his disrespectful tardiness?â
The heady drink having loosened his tongue, FindekĂĄno scoffed disdainfully. âOh, Nelyo can suck myâŠâ
He stopped himself guiltily. âI know heâs much burdened, but Iâve waited for him once too often,â he tried to justify his unseemly exclamation.
âHe does have a pretty mouth,â FindarĂĄto agreed in a sensual purr. âDonât you dare look at me like your mother when she catches one of us making mischief. Or do you really want to tell me that the idea of using this paragon of filial piety doesnât make your toes curl with desire?â
âHeâd never agree to something like that,â FindekĂĄno sighed dolefully. âAnd itâs highly unlikely that weâd be able to overpower him.â
âThere are two of us,â FindarĂĄto postulated braggartly.
âWeâre drunk,â FindekĂĄno reminded his cousin, immediately cooling his braggadocio enthusiasm.
âMaybe we can charm him?â
âInto performing unspeakable acts of depravity on the two of us? Here?â FindekĂĄno sounded thoroughly unconvinced. âUnheard of things about which youâve only read in your fantastical romance novels, may I add?â
âWell, weâd return the favour, wouldnât we?â
At the mere thought, FindekĂĄnoâs mouth started watering, and he squirmed uncomfortably where he lay, trying to cast these lurid thoughts from his addled mind. âImpossible,â he muttered.
âAll right, spoilsport,â FindarĂĄto crooned, not in the least discouraged. âWe might have to tie him down then.â
Before FindekĂĄno could make a fool of himself by verbalising his own lewd fantasies, a muted rustling sound made both of the impromptu erotica theorists sit up in alarm.
âIâd be ever so grateful if you didnât tie me down,â NelyafinwĂ« smirked. âIâm sorry for the delay, my father needed me, butâin exchangeâIâve brought a couple of bottles from Grandfatherâs personal stock.â
Shaking the bottle theyâd already emptied while waiting for him, FindarĂĄto turned his bright, hungry eyes on the newcomer. âWe had something else in mind,â he said slowly.
âYeah, as I crept closer to surprise you, I thought Iâd heard something about blindfolds and the likes. What was this about? Are we to play games?â
FindekĂĄno scoffed anew. âWeâre not your kid brothers,â he declared haughtily. âYou donât need to entertain us.â
âDonât listen to him; the drink makes him morose,â FindarĂĄto interrupted. âWhy donât you sit here and close your eyes? We shall play a gameâthe goal will be to recognise what it is we put to your lips. Agreed?â
Sitting down comfortably, Nelyafinwë complied readily, confident in his sharp senses.
For a while, his cousins put forth various bits of salted meat and cake, which were identified and devoured at once.
Then, they made him distinguish between ArafinwĂ«âs inferior vintage and the newly uncorked treasures heâd brought from FinwĂ«âs well-guarded cellars.
With a smile, Nelyafinwë feigned indecision and demanded another round of samples to decide.
By then, his freckled cheeks were beautifully flushed with the heat of the fire and the effect of the wine, and his overwhelming beauty inspired the co-conspirators to push their luck.
Putting a finger to his lips to caution FindekĂĄno, FindarĂĄto freed his cock and pressed its tip against the centre of NelyafinwĂ«âs lower lip.
To their astonishment, their coy, demure cousin let his tongue swipe along the smooth skin freely, humming deep within his throat.
âThat would be my esteemed cousin FindarĂĄto,â came the calm verdict. âYou smell like your fatherâs gardens and taste like your motherâs native sea.â
At once, FindekĂĄno drew closer, emboldened by FindarĂĄtoâs beckoning gesture and NelyafinwĂ«âs incongruously welcoming reaction.
Turning his head blindly, NelyafinwĂ« took a deep breath, âCome closer,â he whispered and closed his lips possessively around that new member presented to him. âAh, of course, FindekĂĄno, my dearest kinsman. I remember the shape and smell of every part of your body from our sparring sessions in Grandfatherâs courtyard.â
Meeting FindekĂĄnoâs wide eyes over the copper-haired head of their willing victim, FindarĂĄto gave him a triumphant grin.
âWeâre all alone in the wilderness,â NelyafinwĂ« mused aloud. âAre we not here to indulge in stolen refreshments and other trespasses? Or was that just juvenile bragging Iâve overheard?â
Nettled by his overconfident challenge, the two mischievous scions of lesser lines, according to the great FĂ«anĂĄro, immediately moved closer again, letting their gorgeous cousin lick and suck their flesh in turn.
The silent, complicit beauty of the woods and the overwhelming stimulation drove them to madness, so whenever NelyafinwĂ«âs generous mouth moved to the other, they stroked themselves languidly, utterly enmeshed in the magic of the moment.
Before long, their breath grew ragged, and their limbs seized with passion.
âDonât hold back,â NelyafinwĂ« cackled. âYou wanted to punish and humble me, right?â
And so, he turned his face sightlessly to the stars overhead as thick, hot ropes of seed rained down on him like an unlooked-for blessing.
âAre you satisfied?â he then asked, opening his eyes to reveal churning darkness where theyâd expected an overcast sky. âAm I forgiven?â
Pupils blown, lips swollen, NelyafinwĂ« stood with inexplicable dignity; he didnât wipe his face or make any other move to remove the stain of his martyrdom.
âOh, sweet cousin,â FindekĂĄno cried. âHow wicked of us! IâŠâ
âDonât apologise,â NelyafinwĂ« interrupted imperiously. âIâm still your elder, and you shall pay homage to me as is my due.â
cnc âź rimming (& 16 Sex Contracts)- Maeglin x Mairon
Maeglin thinks he's smarter than he is. Mairon takes advantage of that.
Written for @elennalore
Prompts in red by @cilil (here).
Prompts in pink by @tolkienpinupcalendar's (here).
Prompt: cnc âź rimming (& 16 Sex Contracts)
Pairing: Maeglin x Mairon
Words: 1015
Warnings: Corruption, seduction, lies, sexual blackmail, forced immobility
âSign here,â Mairon commanded, laying a slender finger, tipped in the purest gold, onto the pristine parchment.
Maeglin hesitated, unable to shake the terrible guilt and apprehension roiling in the pit of his stomach.
It was just like any other apprenticeship, he told himself firmly. He was not wantonly betraying his kin and realm because of a handful of mendacious promises.
On the contrary, he would study and learn so he might, in time, better protect his stern uncle and precious cousin.
Here, in the bowels of darkness, the prodigious orphan finally found an echo of his parentsâ essence thrumming through his pale flesh.
Rebellious, creative, and wild, those whoâd wrought him from initial enmity and flickering light had never shied away from challenges to further their own designs.
Faltering now would mean dishonouring their legacy and proving the vicious gossips right when they whispered behind his back, claiming that he was unlike his beautiful, headstrong mother or his famously courageous uncles.
No, he had to do this.
Thus, he put his name under the document with a tight-lipped smile.
Maeglin knew what he was agreeing to, and he was unafraid.
Of course, heâd expected the unspeakably beautiful lieutenant of the Dark Forces set against Gondolin to seek information about the exact location and might of said city, butâto his astonishmentâMairon never even mentioned it as they worked in the forge.
âYou have to visualise the finished blade in your mindâyou have to taste the steel on your tongue,â the insidious Maia purred, closing his elegant, unstained hands around the young Elfâs trembling fingers.
Looking up, Maeglin was once again struck by the marvellous and maddening transformation his de facto host had undergone since his arrival.
Exchanging his polished armour for translucent silks and leaving his ever-lightening hair mostly open, Mairon had started unconsciously emulating a lady he couldnât possibly know.
Could he?
Again, the involuntary traitor felt a cold shiver race down his spine as he realised that he could never be sure of how much the Enemy really knew about those he haunted and hunted relentlessly.
Having spent the better part of his childhood hidden away by his fatherâs design, Maeglin was the one who understood little and less about his extended family and their experiences with the dread foe now casually tempering Maeglinâs clumsy attempt at copying his own mastery.
More than that, though, it was his new teacherâs way of watching him intently that made Maeglinâs skin crawl.
Every day, he mouthed the exact terms of the document heâd signed to himself before going to sleep lest he forget that heâd ceded all semblance of self-determination in exchange for the rare chance to be taught by a former student of AulĂ« himself.
At first, heâd been terrified of the implications.
By now, he wished somethingâanything, reallyâwould happen to relieve the torturous pressure of fretful anticipation and apprehension.
Thus far, heâd barely seen anyone other than Mairon, andâlabouring by his side indefatigablyâMaeglin had lately started to wonder whether his mind and body were really so repulsive that they didnât even tempt the other into investigating.
âWhat are you looking at?â the Maia asked, a seductive smirk tugging at the corners of his generous mouth. âAre you displeased with your creation?â
âNo,â Maeglin replied, embarrassed by the turn his thoughts had taken. âIt needs work still, but I think that Iâm improving.â
âYou seem restless, little one,â Mairon insisted in a deceivingly soft purr. âDoes the relentless heat not agree with you?â
Tossing back his head haughtily, Maeglin reminded him of his ancestry. âNeither open flames nor cool forests can distemper me.â
At that unveiled challenge, Mairon cocked his head curiously. âSo, youâve grown tired of my teaching. How disappointing! Alas, I can conjure up more daunting tasks for you.â
Moving as quickly as a flash of light, he came to stand behind Maeglin.
âYouâre mine,â he hissed in a low, vibrating voice. âLet me put your claim to the test, then. Your family is famed for its uncanny ability to abide in silence and immobility under the yoke of adverse circumstances and cruel assaults. Can you say as much about yourself, son and nephew of caged birds?â
âThey were not,â Maeglin protested angrily. âThey are not!â
âNo matter how glorious, vast, and gilded the prison,â Mairon scoffed, âit remains a pen in essence.â
Before Maeglin could contradict him further, the skilled seducer had bent him over the anvil heâd been allotted for his stay.
âStay still then, little dove,â Mairon susurrated, commanding steel glinting through the soft velvet of his mellifluous voice. âIf you succeed in stifling all reaction, I shall teach you something new tomorrow to keep you on your toes.â
Grunting his acquiescence, Maeglin stilled as he had countless times, cowering in the heart of dense bushes to escape his parentsâ vicious, violent fights.
He could do this.
And then, just as heâd imagined so often in the lonely, languid hours of the night, Mairon stripped him bare from the waist down.
This had been one of the possible outcomes of his bold agreement and signature, Maeglin knew, and it was by far the one he preferred.
If Mairon, more gorgeous and fascinating than any being the young orphan had ever met, could assuage that raging fire of lust within him, Maeglin would return to Gondolin not only triumphant but purged and strengthened.
Thus, he spread his legs eagerly at the slightest insinuation of Maironâs hands, pushing against that damp, untouched skin.
A moment later, a hot tongue lapped against Maeglinâs most sensitive, secret skin playfully, and he tensed instinctively.
The small, admonishing tut made him freeze once more, biting back the guttural moans of shock and pleasure bubbling up in him.
âMine,â Mairon repeated before following the tight curve of the puckered ring of clenching muscle with the self-forgotten meticulousness of an accomplished architect of disastrous doom.
Limbs atremble, breath coming in short, hot bursts, Maeglin yearned for more.
Anything to relieve that terrible pressure.
âTell me all youâve hidden,â Mairon demanded.
Warnings: seduction, mindfuck, corruption, mockery, odd combination of races and ages, dubcon, anal sex, Eldritch Maglor
Ori stared at the radiant vision before him in awe and alarm.
He knew that he shouldnât have slipped out of the room that had been generously allotted to them by Lord Elrond to wander around in the dead of night, but heâd nevertheless never expected to stumble upon an ancient horror within these famed walls.
âWho are you?â the being purred in a voice that made the young dwarven scribeâs head swim as if heâd drunk too many mugs of ale.
Surely, he thought, this oddly gleaming creature was akin to the fabled sirens that dragged innocent seafarers to their watery grave.
Bowing low, he introduced himself. Then, after a moment of breathless silence, he dared return the question.
âMe?â A peal of laughter, reminding Ori of silver bells and breaking crystals, resounded. âOnce upon a time, they called me KanafinwĂ« MakalaurĂ«.â
The very syllables sounded like an archaic magical spell, and Ori flinched back as if burned.
âMaglor,â the stranger laughed. âYou may call me Maglor. Now, say, Ori, what are you doing out here at this time of night? Are you looking for a way out orâŠmaybe a lover?â
Blushing furiously, Ori shook his head so vehemently that his braids went flying around his head. âNo, Master Maglor, indeed not. IâmâŠIâve neverâŠâ
âOh!â The unnatural glow of Maglorâs bright eyes grew in intensity until they were positively blinding the trespassing dwarf. âYou live a life of chastity then? What a funny notion.â
When he slid off his perch in a gnarled tree and landed noiselessly only an armâs length away from Ori, the unruly visitor to this Elven realm felt cold dread rise within him.
Maglor, he realised, was distressingly tall and moved with the lethal grace of a prowling predator. Coupled with his uncannily corrupting voice and glaring potency, his impressive physique convinced Ori all the more that heâd stumbled upon a monster, returned from days gone by.
âIâve never had a dwarf,â Maglor mused aloud, sizing Ori up in much the same way a hungry spider would regard a fly enmeshed in its net. âI wonderâŠâ
Ori, whoâd only ever dreamt about what it would be like to touch and be touched, shivered violently.
Be not afraid, that horrifyingly alluring voice resounded inside his head.
âWhat!â Ori exclaimed, stumbling back a few steps.
Seemingly without so much as moving, the abomination heâd inadvertently disturbed was before him once more, now standing close enough to eclipse the inky darkness of the night almost entirely.
Do you never wonder what it would feel like?
Overcome with a strange sense of weakness, Ori nodded dazedly.
Let me show you.
Shaking his head slowly, Ori desperately tried to dispel the insidious voice that had wormed its way into his consciousness. Of course, heâd heard tales of those who were able of such feats of insidious intrusion, but heâd never expected to become a victim of such a shameless trespass himself.
âWhat would you have of me?â he asked breathlessly. âLet me go! I have a familyâŠfriends. Theyâre waiting for me.â
Maglor threw his head back as if to quest the cool night air in search of answers to questions that had never been spoken aloud. âNot yet,â he then said. âWe have time.â
âWill you kill me?â Ori asked bravely.
âNo, not if I can help it,â Maglor replied, his lips barely moving even though his voice seemed to echo endlessly through the nocturnal stillness.
Realising that all resistance was futile, the courageous scribe finally accepted his fate, whatever it might be. He didnât want to perish so far from home, unwitnessed by those closest to him, but he also refused to lead this threatening vision of aberrant beauty back to them by running away.
âDespite your proclaimed chastity, youâve come out here in nothing but your undergarments,â Maglor purred. Interesting. Are you sure you werenât looking to cast off the chains of purity?
Again, Ori shook his head.
No matter. Undress!
Unable to resist the deafening authority in that secret voice, reverberating through his flesh and bones, Ori obeyed.
Soon, he stoodânaked and tremblingâwithin an oasis of greenery and starlight, waiting for the swift stroke of destiny to tear him asunder.
Instead of a quick death, though, it was oddly tentative tenderness that befell him as long-fingered, cool hands slid along his bare skin searchingly.
My brother had freckles like that.
This time, Ori felt an echo of profound sadness and abject longing in the wake of those words, springing fully formed and booming into his mind.
For a moment, he thought he glimpsed a memory that wasnât his own. It showed a frighteningly tall, grim man, whose scarred, pale face still shone with a beauty that defied understanding.
Donât be afraid. Heâs long dead.
To his surprise, Ori found that he was no longer afearedâhe was curious.
While his head swam with words of encouragement and warning, his body was pushed and prodded until he found himself leaning over a nearby rock.
The gentle thrumming of night-cold stone soothed his frantically beating heart, and he tried to relax.
A moment later, two large hands spread him open carefully.
Iâll try not to hurt you. Do not tense up!
Even as an unexpected dollop of cold, slick ointment hit his heated skin, Ori fought not to let his thoughts run wild.
He couldnât fully understand what was done to him, but he also couldnât deny that his virginal body reacted with shivers of pleasure and soft, breathy moans to the incongruous stimulation of parts that had never been touched by another.
Something hot and blunt pressed against his openingâhe instinctively spread his legs wider to accommodate the sharp, narrow hips of the preternatural creature slotted against his back.
NOW!
Ori felt the pressure intensify, and then, Maglorâs cock slipped into him in a long, resolute thrust.
Throughout his life, Ori would confront many a dread monster, but the dazzling stranger heâd met on a deserted path in the middle of the night remained forever in his memory as unique.
Warnings: misappropriation of food, stickiness, seduction, Caranthir misused as table, oral sex, vaginal sex, quite a bit of roughhousing
âIndeed.â
Haleth frowned. This was the third time that Lord Caranthir, her less-than-genial host, had made such a non-committal reply, and she started to grow annoyed with his statuesque passivity.
Following a fleeting, petty inspiration, she picked up a soft cake from her plate and flung it across the table.
It hit Caranthir square in the centre of his broad chest.
He gasped in surprise.
âAre you quite well, Lady Haleth?â he then asked as if sheâd not just thrown food at him.
âYouâre infuriating,â she growled.
âSo Iâve been told, yes,â he gave back calmly. âHow did I irritate you now?â
A flash of something raw and vulnerable passed over his handsome face, and she relented at once.
On account of his superior size and bulk, she tended to view him as a warrior and a ruler first, without showing enough consideration for the fact that he was utterly alone, banished from his home and isolated from his kin.
âIâd been looking forward to seeing your beautiful face,â she sighed. âAnd you wonât even grant me a smile.â
Caranthir grimaced uncomfortably. âItâs said that my smiles hold little warmth and even less sweetness. Forgive me for not burdening you with beholding them.â
âFoolish creature,â Haleth expostulated and leapt to her feet before rounding the long, polished table resolutely.
Then, she pushed aside the untouched, empty plate in front of her mysterious would-be benefactor and dipped her finger into a pot of dark amber honey.
âI could have given you a spoonââ Caranthirâs gentle remonstrance was cut short by her boldly spreading the sweet, sticky substance across his lower lip.
Her mouth, voracious and firm, followed that mellifluous trail at once, andâas the tip of her tongue traced the stern line of his lipâCaranthir gave a muted moan of astonishment and delight.
âSee? Plenty sweet,â Haleth laughed as she climbed onto his lap, facing him.
âMilady,â Caranthir sputtered, honey dripping onto his chin in an alluring display of uncharacteristic messiness.
âYouâre so gorgeous,â she whispered in lieu of a more rational explanation. âIrresistible!â
To her surprise, her words made him surge up against her instinctively, and another breathy sigh escaped him.
âHaleth,â he said warningly, bringing his hand up to hover indecisively in the air. âDo not do this to me.â
âDo what? Tell you that, during my loneliest nights, I thought about this? That I wondered what that stern moue would taste like? That I, wicked wretch that I am, imagined that huge, muscular body moving atop my woefully friable flesh? Why not?â
Again, he gave a helpless sound, halfway between a whimper and a growl.
âYour blessed life is short, but I shall remember the humiliation of having been taken for a fool for an eternity beyond your fathoming,â he said, brows puckered and eyes alight with voracious hunger.
âDo you really think me capable of such cruelty, son of fire?â she asked, perplexed. âIf anyone is a fool in this situation, it must surely be me for my grasping, covetous ways. Wouldnât you agree, Milord?â
Caranthir threw his head back to study her strong, determined features carefully.
âWhat did you have in mind, Lady Haleth?â he then asked warily.
âOh, Iâd honour your mother by using that impressive expanse of white marble here as a dining table,â she cackled, splaying her fingers against his heaving chest.
âThen, Iâd honour your father by setting you aflame and watching you burn,â she went on, dropping her other hand between his legs to fondle him through the soft fabric of his exquisite breeches.
Squirming in his seat, the usually so collected Elven Lord gazed at her in hopeful incomprehension.
âIâve never seen your luminous eyes so dark,â Haleth husked. âHow can you grow more handsome still? Are you determined to drive me insane?â
âIâm sorry?â Caranthir lifted his long-fingered hands in a forceful, nervous shrug. âDo with me as you will, woman. OnlyâŠdonât leave me.â
âNot tonight, no,â she promised as she set to work undoing the various pearl buttons and hidden fastenings of his unspeakably fine garments.
Once he was laid bare, she motioned at the table wordlessly, and Caranthir followed her lead by stretching out willingly on the cold, hard slab of wood.
Blushing a dark crimson at her compliments, Caranthir didnât dare unclench his jaw for fear of the sounds of wanton pleasure that would escape him.
One by one, Haleth meanwhile selected the choicest sweetmeats and placed them upon his naked body.
âThis is how I imagine that Blessed Realm from which you hail,â she laughed.
At that, Caranthir gave her an incredulous look, but she kept him from replying by sealing his honeyed lips with her own.
âDonât go dashing my illusions, theyâre all I have,â she pleaded.
And then, she started feastingâwithout using her hands, she let her lips graze along his sensitive flesh as she picked up the various delicacies sheâd so carefully laid out beforehand.
By now, Caranthir was no longer able to suppress the gurgling moans of arousal pouring out from between his gritted teeth against his will.
âDelicious,â Haleth smiled, wiping her mouth gingerly. âAlas, Iâm afraid Iâm far from sated.â
Thus, she let her sugar-coated tongue lap against the translucent skin of his inner thigh, revelling in the tensing muscles beneath it.
When her fingers curled around his fully engorged cock to steady it, he bucked into her hand with a guttural cry.
âYouâre so tall,â Haleth mumbled. âSo strong. Good thing Iâm fearless.â
True to her word and nature, she descended upon him like a storm of fire and ferocity, swallowing him to the root and pumping her fist in boundless triumph.
Before long, though, Caranthirâs short temper broke through, and he sat up in a jolt of overwhelming rapture.
Proving his superior reach and strength, he lifted her onto his lap effortlessly and thrust against her in slow, seductive motions.
âYes,â Haleth crooned. âMake me feel small and delicate!â
âI could never, I wouldnât dare,â he scoffed, his voice heavy with repressed ardour. âBut we can burn together.â
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Rules: Post 7 sentences of your current WIP, then tag 7 writer friends to do the same.
My friend @sb-essebi tagged me đ€
At first I thought I'd post something from chapter 4 of Lost Kingdom but I changed my mind and decided to post 7 sentences from the ficlet I'm currently working on, which is a little spicy story for @tolkienpinupcalendar ft. @acorn-and-oakleaves' Kinktober!
[Spice level for this snippet: 1 out of 5 peppersđ¶ïž]
Thorinâs presence, his voice, his lips, the way his throat bobs as he glowers⊠Itâs all too much. It calls to something within Bilbo, something primal and ancient. He does not want Thorin to see that in his eyes, or⊠Bilbo swallows heavily and quietly thanks the darkness for veiling the unseemly bulge in his trousers.
I'm tagging @sotwk @skatesfullofsunshine @sunnyrosewritesstuff @fantasyinallforms @all-things-hobbit and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it!
