#maeglin x you

[lovefairymina]

*Y/N sitting down next to Maeglin*

"I know you think no one loves you, but thats not true."you say and grab his hand softly. "I do."

Unable to meet your eyes, he looked down at your hands holding his and smiled softly. He slipped his thumbs out of your grasp to rub them over your knuckles, basking in the tender touch of your warmth. “I know you do, Y/N, and I’ve never doubted you for a second. I love you too.”

[fistfuloflightning]

Maeglin from the excellent fic 维林诺谋生录 (Valinor’s Way of Living) by MindYourOwnBusiness

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Silm September

Idril wants.

Prompt: My hands are shaking from holding back from you

Words: 100

Pairing: Idril x Tuor, Idril x Maeglin

Warning: Desire for cousin while being married

Idril would never have considered herself spoiled.

Most days, she felt as if she’d lost more than she’d ever been given.

At other moments, though, she was convinced that she was the most fortunate of women, basking in the admiration of her husband and the boundless love of her imperious but warm-hearted father.

Caught in that dichotomy, she cursed herself for her single-minded greed as she followed her cousin noiselessly down the hall.

“What do you want?” Maeglin hissed, whirling around suddenly, eyes ablaze.

“You,” she replied. “My hands are shaking from holding back from you!”

“Then…don’t,” he purred invitingly.

Thank you so much for reading!

@tolkienpinupcalendar

↬ Masterlist

[doodle-pops]

Think You Can Warm Me Up

[Elves and Cockwarming x reader]

Request: What elves do you think would like cock-warming? - anon

A/N: This was a lot of elves to think for since I've added more over the months gone by. Enjoy!!!

Warning: smut, cockwarming

More: Brat Taming

Loves it – sometimes when they’re too busy to have sex with you but you want to feel them, they’ll suggest you sit on their lap, only to feel them raising your body slightly to slide themselves into you. When you lift your hips to move, their hands will be planted firmly on your waist with a stern look on their faces warning you to stay still. They’ll keep their hands on your waist, using it to pull you closer to rest against their chest and hold you down. Some use it for punishment when your bratty side comes out. They’ll rile you up by making out with you, having you grind on them feeling as though you two are about to have sex, but then when you’re about to ride them, they’ll lean in to whisper, “Not so fast love, no moving, sit right there and stay still or I’ll leave you empty. You thought I’d just give in and give you what you wanted, my poor confused little one” Other times, they’d use it to literally warm themselves up. When you two are relaxing as such, they’d throw the suggestion out to you and once you agree, the two of you will just be lounging about with their cock buried in you, staying warm. There are times you’ve fallen asleep with them buried in you. “You feel so warm and tight love, stop shifting so much, just stay still. This feels good, now we can cuddle.”

MAEDHROS, Maglor, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, FINGON, Finarfin, FINROD, AEGNOR, GLORFINDEL, GALDOR, BELEG, Rog, Elrond

Hates it – the first time you suggest the act, they were down to try it, but once you sank your warm hole onto their cock, it was over for them. Their hands would immediately shoot out to grab your waist, urging you to move but you’ll simply push it away and lean into their chest informing them that you’re not supposed to move. “It’s called cockwarming for a reason. Now stay still. Don’t get mad, remember you agreed to this, so sit and enjoy it.” This was absolute torture for them, they couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing that if they moved their hips right then, you’d probably hop off and that wasn’t part of their plan. Waiting till you were settled in and comfortable, with ease, their hands would sneak around your waist holding you firmly to their chest and without any warning, begin thrusting into you. You’d admit that this was not how you planned the session to go but with the way the tip of their cock was brushing against your soft spot, your moans gave it away. Now whenever you suggest it to them, they’d smile at you saying that they’ll behave, only to abuse your heat as soon as you sink down on their cock. The longest they’ve ever lasted was five seconds. “If you really thought I’d sit through all that torture, you’re absolutely wrong. Now be a good girl/boy and enjoy my cock.”

FEANOR, CELEGORM, Curufin, Turgon, ARGON, ANGROD, EGALMOTH, ECTHELION, MAEGLIN, ELLADAN

Mixed feelings – one minute it’s torture for them the other it’s blissful. It just all depends on their mood not so much yours. If they’re tired and just want to be warmed or you want to feel them, they’d let you go ahead without interrupting you. They’d simply wrap their arms around you and pull you in closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep. Other times it’s when they’re busy doing paperwork and could do with a little relief. Letting you sit on their lap with the table hiding their cock buried deep in your heat, they’d let you lean into them so they could continue their work. “This feels good, didn’t think I’d be needing this, but after I’m finished here, I’d bend you over this table for a good fuck, hmm.” When you’re teasing them all day and acting up and then decide it’s time to kick it up a notch by making them feel you were about to ride them after your tedious torture only to sit still on their cock, now you’re just asking for it. They’d be grinding their teeth the entire time when you tell them not to move while pretending to do something important, informing them that when you’re finished then you two can go at it, they’re not going to listen, not when you were suffocating their cock. They wouldn’t care at that point, so say goodbye to whatever it was that you were doing. “Don’t you think this is a little too much love, don’t you think this has gone on for too long because I think so as well. How about we change that by having me fuck you, now.”

Maedhros, MAGLOR, CARANTHIR, Amrod, Fingolfin, FINGON, TURGON, FINARFIN, Finrod, AEGNOR, Glorfindel, GALDOR, Egalmoth, ROG, ERESTOR

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @lilmelily

[lamemaster]

A Secret Garden

Request: me (hehe)

Pairings: Thranduil x Illyrian reader

Genre: fluff and feels

Summary: The forests of Greenwood were brimming with fae, imps, valkyries, Illyrians, and whatever those horses with horns on their heads were called.

AN: I think Greenwood exists out there somewhere hidden from canon. That's where Maglor lives, probably. Thranduil deserves a baddie. I don't make the rules.

Next up- Zombie Maedhros Fall trope event list

Contrary to the usual, casual belief, Legolas’ mother is very much alive and thriving within the halls of Greenwood the Great.

And yes, it is Greenwood the Great. Mirkwood was merely a convenient front. A grim veil to dissuade would-be intruders.

That includes the so-called "statue of the Queen," which, for the record, looks nothing like you. Truly, Thranduil outdid himself in selecting the most unlike-you statue and crafting the wildest tale of gems and tragic loss.

Your husband, the King of Greenwood, was a mastermind. A ruler so adept that his kingdom flourished for millennia without enchanted rings or the guidance of the Valar. His conniving brooding ensured that his people prospered in secret, while the world saw only a shadowed, forbidding forest.

As for where the real Greenwood the Great lingered during those turbulent times? That remains a mystery. Its shifting location shall not be revealed here.

This tale, however, concerns you, the Queen of Greenwood the Great. Mirkwood, for all its legends, lacks a queen. It possesses only the image of a bitter, widowed king clinging to a fading world and a son growing restless with time.

Thranduil was a vessel of theatrics and drama.

You, on the other hand, were content in your hidden kingdom. Three thousand years of seclusion had yet to yield a Turin or a Maeglin to wreck your haven, and for that, you counted yourself fortunate.

As for what you are? Most guesses would not quite be accurate. Not quite an elf, in the not-quite-elven kingdom of your husband.

The forests of Greenwood were brimming with fae, imps, valkyries, Illyrians, and whatever those horses with horns on their heads were called.

You were one of them. Or, more accurately, an amalgamation of many. Yet the great, leathery wings at your back made it clear that your Illyrian ancestry dominated while the rest of your gene remained suppressed only to peek upon close inspection.

And how, you ask, did a lowly bastard with wings become the Queen of Greenwood the Great?

That tale begins long ago.

Thranduil had been lost for days, his once-pristine robes torn and muddied, his sword arm aching from constant readiness. 

The air of the forest felt different here, heavier, charged with an unfamiliar magic that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He had strayed far from the borders of his father’s palace, lured into unknown territory by the magnificent silver fawn.

They were like nothing he had ever seen beasts in the shape of men, with great bat-like wings that cast shadows over the forest floor. Runes glowed faintly across their arms, swirling and shifting like living things, their meaning lost to him. 

They didn’t kill him outright. Instead, they toyed with him, driving him deeper into the woods, their eerie laughter echoing around him like the rustle of dead leaves. Every so often, one would swoop low, slashing at him with claws or the sharp edges of their wings, drawing blood but never a fatal blow.

Thranduil’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled through the dense undergrowth, his usually keen senses dulled by exhaustion.

That was when he found you or, rather, when he collided into you.

One moment, he was running, heart hammering in his chest, the laughter of his pursuers closing in. The next, he crashed into something-someone, so abruptly that the force sent him sprawling to the ground.

Disoriented, he scrambled to his feet, sword raised, his golden hair falling in disheveled strands around his face.

You stood there, unmoving, watching him with a curious tilt of your head. Your wings extended slightly behind you, the moonlight falling gently onto them. 

Not unlike his hunters, Runes spiraled faintly along your arms. With broad shoulders and visible strength of muscle lining your body, you were what he assumed to be an Illyrian. 

The Illyrians were brutish fighters. An army with no leader. Children of the night. No one in Greenwood had seen them. Most were reluctant to seek the bunch that were rumored to make a stew out of anything and everything. 

“What are you doing in Illyrian woods, elf?” Your voice was calm, almost bemused, though your eyes betrayed a hint of irritation.

Before Thranduil could respond, the sound of wings beating the air filled the clearing. His hunters emerged from the shadows, circling above. They slowed at the sight of you, their jeers fading into uncertain murmurs.

One of them dropped to the ground, his cruel grin faltering as he addressed you. “Captain,” he sneered, though his tone carried a note of wariness. “We didn’t realize you were… entertaining guests.”

Your wings flared slightly, and the runes on your arms pulsed in response. “He is no guest,” you replied coolly, stepping forward. “But nor is he your prey.”

The hunter hesitated, his confidence waning under your sharp gaze. “We were only—”

“Leave,” you commanded, your voice carrying a weight that stilled the air. 

The hunter glanced between you and Thranduil, clearly torn between defiance and self-preservation. With a final sneer, he launched himself into the air, the rest of the group following in his wake. Their shadows vanished into the trees, leaving behind an uneasy silence.

Thranduil stared at you, his sword still raised, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. “Who are you?” he demanded, though his voice cracked at the most unfortunate pause. 

You turned to him, your expression unreadable. “I might ask you the same question, elf.” 

Thranduil hesitated before he answered “I am Thranduil, prince of Greenwood.”

Your lips curved into the faintest smile. “A long way from home, aren’t you?”

Before he could reply, you turned and began walking deeper into the forest, your wings folding neatly against your back. Thranduil stood rooted to the spot for a moment, torn between suspicion and exhaustion. Then with a quiet sigh, he followed you, hoping to escape the fate of becoming a hearty meal.

Legolas, as many assumed, was not your only child. He was, in fact, your youngest, the cherished baby of your family, born long after the triplets. 

He took after Thranduil in nearly every way, so much so that his presence alone was acceptable in the halls of Mirkwood. The only one to be elven enough for Middle Earth. 

Your other children, however, were a different story.

The triplets, older and undeniably yours, had delicate, protruding wings like yours—proof that their father’s genetics had long since lost the battle. 

The children however did not fail to possess their father’s dramatic flair and liking for chaos. 

Now seated with your bickering triplets and sullen eldest you await your husband and son to return to your world. Away from the chaos of the world that was nothing but an illusion. 

With a prayer sent to the spirits, you try your best to spare the dinner from the hands of your wild family. 

[batsyforyou]

Celegorm/Curufin/Celebrimbor/Feanor Sleep Headcanons

Pairing: Celegorm x reader, Curufin x reader, Celebrimbor x reader, Feanor x reader

Author’s Note: Blanket Series! 

The one thing that these four elves have in common is the amount of work they put in. 

They either go to bed late 

Or never

What's worse is that they all have the same family stare when they sleep. 

Each of their eyes glow and they stare straight ahead, kinda like the goa'uld with their glowing eyes but instead of the white of their eyes glowing, it's the iris.

Feanor passed it to Celegorm, and Feanor also passed it to Curufin who then passed it to Celebrimbor 

It's a family trait 

But between the four of them Celegorm and Celebrimbor are the most likely and willing to cuddle you and kiss you at night.

Between Celegorm and Celebrimbor though, Celebrimbor is way more romantic 

Verses Curufin and Feanor who kiss their forges goodnight and put it to bed before they ever see you

Though Celegorm is the first to go to bed out of all of them

Celegorm

Probably the easiest Feanorian to corral into bed 

If he’s busy at his desk and if you ask him to come to bed he’ll give you a half hearted wave and tell you to go to bed. But if you kiss his cheek and use the magic word (please) he’ll come join you. 

And I don’t want to give you the impression that he doesn’t care for his work and doesn’t take it seriously. He takes it very seriously. But he takes care of your happiness first. 

He’ll wrap himself around you and bury you in his arms and smooch you til his heart's content. 

Sometimes he’ll try to see if you're willing for more but most of the time he’ll leave his shenanigans for morning. 

He snores very softly and you normally don't hear it 

And because he so active during the day he doesn’t move at night 

And like I mentioned before he’s got his daddy’s stare 

Though his open eyed stare is bright. His eyes are like two active search lights from Gotham City (Batman) just piercing the dark. That or two up close nightlights. 

Overall Celegorm is an 7/10 sleep buddy

Curufin

Getting this one into bed is a fight in itself. 

He would come with you unless you’ve begged for like 30 minutes

Curufin is another elf that doesn’t know how to cuddle. He thinks you take up too much bed space but unlike Maeglin he has no problem telling you about it.

“Move over, your elbow is on my side.” 

He doesn’t really learn 

So the only way to get this one to cuddle is if you lay on top of him and press your nose into the crook of his neck. 

He just melts when you do and the silver tongue is to put to rest

He dreams pretty frequently. But it's sometimes like watching a cat dream he’ll just twitch every once and a while 

He doesn’t move and roll around and sleeps on his back 

And he never snores not once but on the few times he does the snore is really cute and you never let him live it down. 

Overall Curufin us a 7/10 sleep buddy

Celebrimbor 

Celebrimor is someone who loves to savor your touch 

He loves holding you close to him and burying his head into the crook of your neck to just breathe you in

He lives to hold you 

He lives to kiss you especially. 

And he will kiss your nose every night before bed and every morning when you wake up 

Is addicted to cuddles but is sometimes embarrassed about craving your soft touch.

So he won’t really tell you that he wants any. Instead he’ll invite you to him so it’ll come off as more of an offer and your idea then his.

When he’s really fixated on what he’s doing you have to drag him away from either the forges or his desk. 

When you're not around he can and will and has slept on his desk atop of his papers.

When in bed though he typically sleeps on his back with you using his arm as a pillow 

But he’s would love to sleep with you on his back while he slept on his stomach

It’d knock him right out 

Overall Celebrimbor is a 9/10 sleep buddy

Feanor

Huh? 

Who? 

Where? 

Good luck reigning this one in, he’s a nightmare to settle into bed

Feanor another one that doesn’t understand the definition of rest. He practically lives in the forges so you’ll have to find a way to persuade him to go to bed. Idk how but good luck soldier 

But ah *coughs* I’ll stay that acts of intimacy go a long way *cough cough*

When he does sleep, he sleeps on his side. He stares straight ahead with glowing eyes. His eyes glow the brightest out of the four but instead of it being a glow it's more a gentle lapping flame that flickers every once and a while.

Cuddles? If you're lucky. He’s mostly staring up at the ceiling thinking about all the cool projects that he could get up to. 

Mostly because it's like you're sleeping with a literal heater and he doesn’t want to sweat at night.

Overall Feanor is a 6/10 sleep buddy

Masterlist

[hurricanek8art]

I have been brought out of lurk mode by the Rings of Power finale on behalf of my brother, resident Tolkien fanatic, because he thinks he's figured out who Adar might be.

Maeglin.

And before you say "but Kate, he died at Gondolin", keep in mind that RoP is playing around with some of the timeline and hear us out. Spoilers for the Rings of Power S2 finale, I guess? The Silmarillion, and a big ol' wall of text under the cut. I don't call my personal tags "K8 Rambles about [X]" for nothing.

Per the Tolkien Gateway wiki, because I like citations with my fandom conspiracy theories; bolded parts are most relevent:

"Maeglin defied Turgon's order to stay within the mountains, and was captured by Orcs and brought to Angbad. Morgoth promised both Gondolin and Idril in return for the location of the hidden city, thus luring Maeglin into the greatest treachery done in the Elder Days.

Maeglin returned to Gondolin saying nothing about his encounter, but many people noticed a change. Most thought it was for the better, though Idril suspected something and began work on Idril's secret way. When the Fall of Gondolin took place, Maeglin laid hands on Idril and on her son Eärendil. But Tuor caught up with him and they fought upon the walls of the city. Maeglin lost and he was thrown down to his death, striking the mountain three times before falling into the flames."

His father Eöl left Thingol's kingdom after Melian raised enchanted fences around the forest of Doriath, so Maeglin would've grown up at least knowing of Melian. He would have learned Fëanorian Quenya in Gondolin as the king's nephew, as well as studied the teachings of Rúmil. Further, Eöl was an expert smith who was one of the only people who knew how to work with galvorn, a jet-black metal—the only other person who knew how to work with it was Maeglin. We've never seen Adar wear anything but pitch-black armor with a rather unique-looking texture.

So, we have a dark-haired Elf with obsessive tendencies that turned on his people on behalf of Morgoth, covered in what looks like burn scars along with the Uruk-ing, wearing fancy, unique black armor. That big ol' gauntlet he's always wearing could easily be explained as protecting a hand that got messed up in the fall, that namedrops Melian and Rúmil. Turgon and Finrod knew each other before they split and Turgon founded Gondolin, so Turgon could potentially have learned Galadriel's Quenya name and mentioned it in passing to Maeglin, and it would be another explanation for how he recognized Elrond right off the bat, since he was related to Elrond's father, grandparents and great-grandfather. It's not impossible to believe that in this version of the tale, Maeglin somehow survives the fall, returns to Morgoth and Sauron, and gets Uruk-ified. And, I mean, Nenya was shown healing fatal wounds and cleansing Adar's Uruk corruption, it's even less of a stretch to think that Nenya somehow healed him of being... well, an obsessive, vindictive and incestuous jerk. Or at least made himself really look inwards and see the evil within.

Again, I'm more of a cinematic Tolkien nerd than literary (I've tried a bunch of times and succeeded in reading The Hobbit, but my brain just... fritzes out at Tolkien prose for some reason. I need cliff notes Tolkien 😭😭😭😭😭), so if you have any questions or points to discuss I'm probably just gonna end up relaying what my brother says. He refuses to join Tumblr and only likes social media for the fanart and the silly pet videos. I feel like a court scribe. 🤣

[elficially-done-with-life]

Maeglin being in love with you hc

Maeglin x Reader

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡ Is very shy around you at first and doesn't speak Quenya well, which is why it takes a while for you to get to know each other properly

♡ But even before that, you get on relatively well

♡ You are the first person in Gondolin to try to make friends with him, and he is very grateful to you for this, and shows it with small gifts, such as flowers or necklaces and bracelets he has forged himself

♡ As he sometimes seems a bit lonely, you often invite him to picnics or come to his forge and keep him company

♡ He doesn't know how to tell you that he likes you because he's afraid you might leave, he is convinced he doesn't deserve love

♡ So he doesn't say anything but just gives you lots of gifts and spends as much time with you as possible

♡ Always looks for you when he's sad, even if he doesn't tell you why he was looking for you

♡ You start to notice something and give him a gift too, Maeglin doesn't know what to say, but always cherishes your gift

♡ If he finds you crying or sad, he doesn't know what to do, but leaving you crying alone is not an option, so he does what his mum always did when he was sad: he talks to you in a calm voice until you calm down a bit and takes you into his arms

♡ Maeglin's voice works wonders on you

♡ When he is captured by Morgoth, he has enough trust in you to afterwards tell you what happened

♡ Together you warn the others and flee the city

♡ Maeglin wants to stay behind at first because he doesn't think he deserves to be rescued

♡ This is the moment when you tell him that you love him and want him to come with you

♡ So Maeglin quietly tells you that he feels the same way about you and comes with you, because you tell him that you couldn't live without him, and that you would stay in Gondolin with him, and he could never let that happen

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[edennill]

thinking how there has to be an elvish equivalent of generations (sociologically speaking) like 'the lost generation' or 'gen x' and such, only it's so much more complicated because they're immortal. like there still are specific events that impact people who lived through them and they share this impact with everyone else who did, there is a world of difference between having fought in beleriand and being born after the war of wrath, but at the same time there's also a world of difference between dying in beleriand and living to found eregion.

and a huge part of the differences that matter is in whether you were in valinor or middle earth but they're not the only ones, and just within the house of finwë... like, the cousins™ are very visibly all one generation, sociologically and literally speaking, born in the bliss of valinor and then taking on the burnt of the catastrophes of the first age, but culturally there isn't much that separates their experiences from their parents, far less than separates both from their grandparents who had known the terrors that stalked cuivenen and made the choice to leave. but here already we encounter a hitch because the generation of finwe's children was split between those who became exiles and those who stayed in aman, and even fëanor himself was probably more amanyar then beleriandim due to his very quick death, never having really known the long defeat.

but then we come to the great-grandchildren and here it becomes a huge mess because celebrimbor and idril were probably childhood friends but one of them spent like five times more in middle earth than the other, and no one could argue that orodreth¹ and celebrian (first cousins) were in the same generation except in the most literal family tree sense. it seems easiest to divide them between those who had an impact on the first age (idril, maeglin, orodreth) and those who mostly hadn't but made their mark on the second (celebrimbor, gil-galad², celebrian), but even here, celebrian was born into a far different world than the rest, and even this breakdown is made more complex if we take into account that some of them had known at least a little bit of aman before the darkening and not the others. and then if finrod had a child in aman, he or she would have a completely different set of experiences still.

(I go by ¹the Orodreth son of Angrod version and ²the Gil Galad son of Fingon version)

and then of course the usefulness of family trees breaks down completely because elrond (grandchild of a grandchild) is visibly of the same sociological generation as celebrimbor&co (not elros though), finduilas should be categorised along with maeglin and eärendil is unclassifiable (actually in some ways one might try to put him along with elros, despite their opposite choices, as people who were active at the turn of the ages and remained as symbols later on, but ultimately their situations are very different in many ways.)

and arwen, of course, is born three millennia after all her first cousins are dead, but here we've got morality entering the picture.

[cilil]

rare pair bingo

AN: This is the same post-canon "everybody is alive (again)" verse as my other Mairon x Maeglin fic "A few words of praise". Reading it isn't necessary for context though.

⸙ Prompt: Leather | Mairon x Maeglin ⸙ Synopsis: Mairon awakens something inside Maeglin. ⸙ Warnings: Dom/sub undertones ⸙ Double drabble | AO3

There has always been this feeling inside of him, Maeglin remembers, this vague yet undeniable feeling that he is different and needs, longs for something that he doesn't quite understand. 

But there was no time to search, not when he was Eöl's son, not when he was King Turgon's nephew, not when loneliness consumed him. All he could do was dream. 

Yet now that Maeglin sees Mairon like this, he feels irresistibly drawn to him, like moth to flame. The Maia is clad in leather so tight that every muscle, every curve, every angle of his fána is visible, like a smooth, black layer of skin. His upper body is bare, save for a few straps of leather hugging his chest as if to mockingly imitate proper clothing and a collar of sorts that bears his symbol, the flaming eye. 

In his hands, he holds a whip. The very same leather, black and spotless. Maeglin can imagine its crack even before it's been used.

Mairon smiles, tempting and triumphant. Of course he has already noticed how the Elf looks at him. 

"Well, Maeglin?" he asks smoothly, unrolling his whip. "If this is to your liking, would you like to play?" 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @angbangbaby @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @destinyeternity1 @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @melkors-defense-attorney @saintstars @sauron-kraut @urwendii @wandererindreams

[caliawen]

Haunted

Pairing = Glorfindel x Reader

Genre = Teen and up

General ratings = a twinge of angst, fluff, smut implied (?)

Content warnings = smut implied

Word count = 1,4k

Notes = ……hi 🫣 I haven’t posted in a month 🙃 Life has been really busy and I haven’t really had the time (nor the motivation, truthfully) to write. I had a more regular schedule before, but I think for now it will stay… ‘irregular’. I have no idea when or what I will post next. Hope you can understand!

Glorfindel was being haunted. Not by ghosts- no. By the memories of his past life. Of his mistakes. Of his friends. Of their deaths. Of his death. The searing pain of his scalp as he was tugged down and down and down by the Balrog. Of the heat he felt as he fought for his life, for the lives of Idril and Tuor and Eärendil and everyone. His mind replayed those moments over and over, never leaving him a second of peace.

The slight smile of Ecthelion, Rog’s boisterous laugh, Turgon’s exasperation with them, Elgalmoth’s mischievous eyes as he gossiped, Penlod’s hums as he pretended he was listening, Galdor’s excited chatter about the trees and plants he saw, Duilin’s whistles as he walked, Tuor’s love-struck expression as his eyes followed Idril and Maeglin’s shy smile when someone asked him about his work…

Oh, Maeglin… Glorfindel had hated him, for a time. Hated him for giving Gondolin away to Morgoth, giving away their lives.. But that time had passed. In the halls of Námo, Glorfindel had had plenty of time to think before he was reborn. And think he did : about how Maeglin had lost his mother and father. About how his only parental figure was Turgon, who was too busy to really spend time with his nephew. About how he mistook his love for Idril as romantic and not platonic, and how that strained his friendship with her and Tuor. About how rumors spread that Maeglin was a vile being. About how none of them did anything to defend him. About how lonely Maeglin must have been.. About what impossible horrors he felt at the hands of Morgoth and Sauron. About how they never saw how broken Maeglin had returned. About how he didn’t care if he died anymore.

Yes, Glorfindel had thought, Maeglin had done something wrong. And he forgave Maeglin for what he had done, because Maeglin had been a child. A child who needed to be guided and shown love, but no one had stepped up to take up the role.

He thought about you. About your smile, your eyes, your nose. About the way you moved, how you talked and your passions. And he ached. Because he didn’t know what happened to you. He didn’t know if you had died, if you had suffered or if you were still alive. If you had moved on from him.. And that haunted him. His every waking thought, his every dream and nightmare.

Sometimes, Glorfindel dreamed of you. He dreamed that you were laying in his bed, in Gondolin, smiling at him. That you carded your fingers through his hair and told him that you loved him. And when he woke up, his heart ached and he did not know whether to thank or curse Irmo.

Glorfindel had a mission. He was going back to Arda Marred. And he found himself dreading going back. Dreading seeing how everything had changed and how the language had evolved. Dreading how no one he knew would be there. How he would be alone. At least in Valinor, he saw his mother and father. He found himself crying when he realized he did not remember what being embraced by his parents felt like. They took care of him and he couldn’t be more grateful to have them.

When Glorfindel departed, he stood looking at Valinor until it had been long since out of view. He stood still, wondering if he was dreaming. He thought, how ironic, for he was going back. Not anyone else. Him. Laurëfindelë Glorfindel, an emissary of the Valar, granted powers nearly as strong as that of the Maiar. And he didn’t want to go back. Nienna wept for him, for his sacrifice, for his fear and for his love. He found himself appreciating her understanding. She visited him, before he departed. He listened to her words, without understanding : “Dear Child, your heart is being haunted. Your mind is playing tricks on you, and your heart is rendered blind by your pain. But your gut, your gut is still there and strong. Follow it, follow what it tells you. But do not silence your heart and mind for it, listen to them. Listen, but do not follow.”

~~~

When Glorfindel arrived in Middle Earth, he did not know where to begin. He was tired, but could not sleep. He thought about you. About your lips on his, about your laugh, about your hands in his, about the ring he had passed on your finger. He thought and thought and thought. And his heart ached. He walked on paths and in forests, stopping to wash himself in rivers. And he despaired.

It was later that he found Lindon. Days later. Or weeks, he did not know. He met Elrond, someone who would confuse and amuse him for the rest of their lives. Part man, part elf, part maia. He wore the insignias of Fingolfin and Fëanor with pride, daring anyone to confront him about it. He was a gentle soul with a heart of gold and the patience of the wise. He was as kind as summer and Glorfindel found himself basking in his presence, like a flower who had grown up in shadow feeling the sun on itself for the first time.

Círdan was surprisingly mischievous. Subtle jokes, sarcasm and deadpan looks were all things he threw at others, uncaring if they understood or not. He was calm, but could easily terrorize anyone with his anger, like the sea. Board games were his favorite and Glorfindel spent time playing with him, thinking of strategies to beat the older elf.

Gil-Galad was as confusing as he was funny. His father was unknown and he liked to joke around about it. Glorfindel spent time with him when they could, talking about everything and nothing. When Gil-Galad felt Glorfindel starting to lose himself in memories, he would randomly tell a stupid joke. They made Glorfindel laugh each time.

Celebrimbor had been a bit weary at first. Glorfindel almost laughed at the memory of a small Curufinwë Tyelpërinquar staring at him with the exact same look. It wasn’t long until they became great friends. Celebrimbor understood : he, too, was haunted by his past actions and words. Maybe for different reasons than Glorfindel, but the important thing was that he related to how Glorfindel felt. Having his feelings validated was something that alleviated the pain in Glorfindel’s heart.

~~~

Glorfindel walked around Lindon aimlessly and leisurely, taking his time to look around. You haunted him. Everything he saw reminded him of you. From pretty rocks you would have collected, passing by a stand selling your favorite fruit, to someone wearing clothes the exact color of your eyes. His mind played tricks on him, making him imagine hearing your laugh or seeing your beautiful hair swaying in the wind.

He stopped walking at a bookstore, a feeling bubbling up inside him. He looked at the door, curious. His gut screamed at him to enter that store, for some reason. His mind dismissed the feeling, but his heart held hope. They warred against each other. And then, Glorfindel was reminded of Nienna’s words to him. And he went inside the store.

Inside the store, which was cozy and homey, he felt pulled towards a particular bookshelf. His breath hitched as his mind reeled to a stop, his heart pumping wildly. There you stood, browsing the shelf while smiling. Feeling observed, you turned your head, your eyes widening as you saw Glorfindel, your husband, your soulmate, standing there. Glorfindel was frozen, his mind scrambling and heart singing with joy. You were the one to make the first move, throwing yourself in his arms, ecstatic. Glorfindel hugged you back, a sense of wholeness overtaking his mind and body as he kissed you long and passionately.

The two of you spent hours upon hours talking, laughing, crying and hugging. This long-awaited reunion was a balm on Glorfindel’s bruised and battered heart. That night, under the stars, in a magnificent glade full of flowers, you rekindled your fëas. Glorfindel made love to you slowly and passionately, kissing every piece of skin revealed as he undressed you, worshiping your body with his hands and mouth. That night, in your arms, Glorfindel had no nightmares. He woke up to your sweet voice and felt free. Free of the thing that haunted him. And he smiled.

End notes : Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs, comments & likes are extremely appreciated 🫶

@theladyvanya

[lovefairymina]

Pacing was a normal activity, and something a mortal with high anxiety tended to do in order to express themselves, verbally and physically. Why? Well Turgon was holding a feast, and of course his nephew and partner were invited. So there Y/n paced. Nerves higher than the mountain tops while the poor soul known a Maeglin, or Lomion if you're close, watched. Finally amdist their mumbling, Y/n spoke "god what do I wear? My hair? What if I don't speak eloquently enough and your friend Salgant! I - I have to impress!" they stress running a hand through their hair "they're important to you and I'd be damned to Angband if I don't make a decent impression" y/n groans into their hands "god, am I even good enough for this? For you-"

As he watched you with a quiet intensity, his dark eyes following your every move, he frowned gently. After a moment, he stood and gently took your hands from your face, holding them firmly in his. “You are more than enough,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “Salgant and the others may hold titles, but you have my heart, and that alone impresses me.”

His gaze softened, a rare smile touching his lips. “Wear what you like, speak as you wish. To me, you are already perfect.”

[fistfuloflightning]

“… I’m sorry. You want what?”

“What do you think about kids?”

“My cousin has one. You can borrow him for a few days if you want. Pretty sure Idril won’t mind. In fact she’ll probably thank you and try to pay you for babysitting services.”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

For Queen and Country

Well, here goes another one for AU-gust. This time for @jaz-the-bard!

Suprise, surprise...It's the Gondolin OT3 <3

AU Prompt: Fairytale AU

Dialogue Prompt: I don't know how to repay you...

Words: 931

Characters: Maeglin x Tuor x Idril

Warnings: A dangerous promise, a swoon, a quasi-abduction?

English is a foreign language to me, very relevant in this instance, please excuse me if this is all wrong. I've tried!

“Hail, son of Gondolin,” Tuor cried aloud when he finally caught sight of his quarry. “I am come to deliver thee.”

The wretched creature leaning against a dead tree lifted a weary gaze to the young knight striding towards him confidently.

“Who are you?” Suspicion and unexpected belligerence glinted in the dark eyes whose frankness startled and discomfited Tuor.

“Thy kinswoman, the Lady Idril, Princess of Gondolin the Fair, sends me,” Tuor replied frankly, holding aloft the token of favour that noble dame had consigned to his care.

Scoffing, the staggering stranger—lithe and enchantingly delicate in appearance—gave a dismissive wave of his fine-boned hand and collapsed in a sudden swoon.

Upon arriving in a hidden kingdom—led by strange and otherworldly forces—Tuor had promptly been introduced to the most magical of beings to have graced his life yet—Princess Idril. Fair as a clear summer sky and wise as the rivers and oceans that had led him thence, the young woman had ultimately entrusted him with a secret quest that was evidently dear to her very own heart.

Indeed, her beloved kinsman had failed to return to the palace’s safety and her respectful care, and she was much aggrieved.

“He may have been injured,” she had said with a mournful mien but dry eyes. “To put my mind at ease, I’d beg thee to seek my cousin in the wild lands yonder and restore him to his rightful place at my side.”

Eager to be of service to one so lovely, Tuor had promptly taken the necessary steps to ready himself thoroughly for his imminent departure—for he knew not what perils or enemies he might encounter—when the young princess slipped into the chamber he had been graciously allotted by the goodwill of the king, her father.

Even though she had treated him like a cherished and trusted friend from the very beginning, Tuor had been startled and discomfited by this renewed display of intimacy—he had only just made her acquaintance, and he had not been able to fathom why she’d incur the danger of ruining her reputation and drawing her father’s wrath by coming to a man’s chamber unchaperoned.

“Forgive my intrusion,” she had whispered in an enchantingly low, thrumming voice. “If thou wouldst dare this feat and succeed, my hand shall be thine.”

Bowing low over those pale, slender digits, Tuor had made a polite remark about how honourable and admirable one must account the love she bore her erring cousin and accounted himself a fool for not finding a better turn of phrase to express his befuddled, confused thoughts.

Now, as he regarded the self-same kinsman with unadulterated appreciation and amazement, he no longer considered Princess Idril the most selfless and charitable of ladies for evidently no soul—independently of its quality—could have suffered the loss of a being so precious and charming.

“Where do you take me?” Maeglin cried as soon as his heavy lids fluttered open once more to behold the foreboding forest surrounding his uncle’s secret city. “Unhand me anon, fiend!”

Dutifully explaining his mission and his solemn promise of service and duty to the princess in more detail, Tuor believed that he’d finally get the gratitude that was due to him. Surely, he thought, this fey prince would thank him for braving the bleak wilderness and the roaming enemies to carry him home.

“Do not trust the Princess,” Maeglin hissed instead, his beautiful eyes alight with ire. “What corrupting phantasm did she pledge to you?”

Abashed, Tuor confessed, his words halting on account of his tongue being heavy with apprehension now. Just as he had suspected that he had indeed been bespelled by the beautiful lady, he presently felt enchanted by her enraged cousin.

As he looked upon that bewitching face thoughtfully, a sudden change came over the frail-looking young man in his arms—those dark, unfathomable eyes grew soft and appealing, and his hitherto raucous voice turned into warm honey, dripping like poison into Tuor’s ringing ears.

“I shall plight thee my troth,” Maeglin purred seductively, his expressive eyes turning into wells of earnest pleading and corrupting closeness. “Swear thou only that thou wouldst not bid me return to Gondolin to be condemned as a villain and a traitor.”

Slowing his steps, Tuor gave this new opportunity some thought—in truth, a fantastical, mad inspiration had overcome him, and he had started to dream that he might wed both of them for he could not bear to lose either one’s favour.

“My name is Tuor, son of Huor,” he said slowly, “and I live to serve.”

A sly expression flashed across Maeglin’s handsome face that shone with a mysterious light in the becharming chiaroscuro of the dense canopy.

“If thou wouldst not desist, at least delay!” Maeglin pleaded softly, placing a strong but svelte hand on Tuor’s broad chest. “I am Maeglin, and I would call thee my friend.”

The change of tone and the bewildering intimacy between them halted Tuor completely.

“So be it,” he finally declared in a voice that had grown raspy with emotion. “Come the morn, we shall make for Gondolin, and I shall speak on thy behalf to thy uncle, the king, and thy esteemed cousin.”

“I don’t know how to repay thee,” Maeglin purred in deceiving accents of obedience and surrender.

“Be true to thy word,” Tuor replied sternly, thus betraying that he was more aware of the guiles and deceptions of the fair and the powerful than Maeglin might have thought. “And I shall be true to mine.”

@fellowshipofthefics: Here's the first for this month!!!

Thank you, @jaz-the-bard for giving me th opportunity to write them again!

[doodle-pops]

Fantasise

Lords of Gondolin x reader

Request: Ok this is gonna sound crazy but…Consensual free-use kink fic where all the lords of Gondolin (that you write for) get to use Reader for one day however they please? She’s just going about her business that one day and they each get to take her aside or to their office to fuck her however they want? (Or idk maybe this has to be a week instead of a day to fit all the fucking idk. I’m not sure how you’d wanna pace this so I leave exact timing up to you.) - Anon

A/N: Thrilled to finally post this fic after staring at it for months and counting down the days. My first time posting something so daring in smut (for me), and I hope you all enjoy it!!

Warnings: female reader, smut, double penetration, gangbang, threesome, foursome, semi-public sex because it’s in a bathhouse, handjobs, blowjobs, rough sex, anal sex, manhandling, creampies, cunnilingus, fingering, aftercare

Words: 4.8k

Synopsis: At some point, all fantasies become a reality, especially those that involve assisting your fellow Lords in special ways when stressed.

“Oh God! Just like that…” you squealed as you fought to find the right words or sound to emit when a new wave of pleasure rocked your world as both Lord Galdor and Lord Rog synchronically thrust into you leaving you gasping for air and squeezing the young Prince Maeglin’s member too tightly. He hissed and groaned at the sensation of your smaller hand gripping tighter as his senior Lords took their time to fill your holes with their well-endowed member. Within seconds, his cock was being pleasured after you managed to find your bearings, slipping his tip past your lips once more. As Galdor and Rog rocked their sweaty bodies in tune with one another, it allowed you the right rhythm to stroke and suckle the head of Maeglin’s cock.

The harmonious moans, grunts and groans of the three Lords reverberated throughout the confined room of the bathhouse. A risqué place to be engaging in such frivolities, yet it was the best option for all the Lords to gather in the same room without servants muttering about the possibilities of your rendezvous. However, at the end of the day, you weren’t complaining when you knew many others wished they could be in your position. You considered your situation a fantasy come to life, and you were about to make every second count by taking all they gave.

The marble walls of the cream-coloured room supplied your hearing with the right pitches of their sounds, while yours were muffled by the assistance of the young Prince’s member sliding further past your lips until you broke free to inhale. You preferred all your sounds to be heard by only those engaging and no trespassers or wishers.

Under you lied Rog. His massive form coveted the floor, allowing your back to comfortably rest against his defined chest while his companion, the ever so delicate Lord Galdor hovered between your legs. His gentle hands held your legs future apart, only for Rog to pull them into your chest, applying little strength to prevent you from squirming away as his robust cock slid smoothly in and out of your ass. Lord Galdor was a dear to take your cunt, enjoying the idea of sampling the cream you produced which now formed a ring at the base, and Maeglin was satisfied to be included, having plump lips wrapping around his cock.

The unmistakable sound of their cocks sliding in and out of your holes left you drunk off their cocks and ecstasy. You couldn’t believe that you were taking more than one cock and managing just fine, especially with the roughness emitting from Lord Rog’s cock rapidly plunging in and out of your ass; you never knew he had so much pent-up frustration. Regardless, you were grateful because Lord Galdor balanced everything fine with his smooth and calculated thrust, ensuring that his tip repeatedly brushed your sweet spot and made your eyes cross.

All three Lords busied themselves, utilising as much of your body as you offered them, wanting to make this moment unforgettable. It wasn’t every day their close and dear friend proposed the idea of being the relief of their stress.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, the hand of Maeglin reached out to grip your chin and tilt your head to the side to meet his onyx eyes. Silently, his other hand reached out to guide his cock back to your mouth for you to swallow—his pleasure was building rapidly with the first-time experience of your warm cavern around him so deliciously. At the same time, Galdor’s fingers travelled down your legs to pinch your clit before aggressively rubbing it and Rog’s finger fiddled with your nipples.

It triggered a series of mumbling and your toes curling in on themselves as you were forced to lie there and take it. Muffled moans and groaning as you took more of Maeglin’s cock further down your throat caused the hand in your hair to tighten its grip and push your head deeper, taking over the pace. The mixture of having all holes occupied felt great on your body, yet confusing on your mind; you didn’t know where to focus. Each delivered a different type of pleasure that was impossible to focus on individually.

“Enjoying the pleasure, love?” teased Galdor as his fingers tweaked and pinched your clit. Your response was gurgled as your head was pulled off Maeglin’s cock, allowing you to catch your breath. “Of course you are.”

“Taking us well…” grunted Rog who delivered another smack to your ass, ensuring that he left his signature in his artwork.

Gasping for air as your eyes grew teary and the fire in the pit of your stomach increased, you nodded and whined in a needy tone, making all three of them laugh. You were adorable even when you were being fucked simultaneously by three Lords. You could feel your inner walls being flipped inside-out from their wicked thrusts, tugging and rubbing along their cocks, gifting you the heightened sensation of feeling the texture and hardness. All you could muster were your constant whines as the sensation grew.

“Are you close, love?” chuckled Maeglin. His voice was closest to your ear as his lips glided along your earlobe, nibbling your skin as he went. He made sure to keep your hand wrapped around his cock to continue stroking him off, knowing that he was close to cumming a second time tonight after being inside your walls earlier. “Go ahead and cum for us another time. Make a mess for us, hmm.”

The young Prince’s constant whispering in your ear, accompanied by his lips kissing your skin, Lord Galdor’s skilled fingers and Lord Rog’s timely thrusts, pushed you a little bit over the edge.

“Oh Eru! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Gasping for air and vibrating alongside the feeling of your skeletons rattling, your free hand reached out to dig into Galdor’s thighs viciously, causing his thrusts to falter momentarily as your umpteenth orgasm washed over you. Both males slowed their thrusts as your walls clamped and tightened around their members, leaving them groaning lowly and resisting the urge to empty themselves in you right away. Maeglin on the other hand had ended his reign as his orgasm arrived at the same time as yours, splattering his cum across your hand and chest, and moved to sit in the pool to wash off while observing.

Once they recovered, ignoring your orgasmic state, Rog’s hands cupped your breasts as his thrusts quickened while Galdor’s fingers continued rubbing your clit as if they had ever stopped. The extra sensation of your walls clamping around them and the lingering effects prompted their pace to increase. The obscene squelching and skin-slapping sound as their hips met yours echoed louder and faster. You could feel both their balls colliding with your ass, heavy and full of cum to empty. At the thought of being filled with more cum, your walls fluttered.

“Come on love, come on. Squeeze me a little tighter; I’m close,” growled Galdor as he bowed his head to witness the cream oozing out your cunt and coating his and Rog’s cock deliciously. “I wish I could frame this sight forever. Look at how well you’re taking our cocks.”

“Feels so good…please fill me up…” Whining and fluttering your walls more to clamp down on their cocks tighter to make them spill faster, your pleads were being answered by their sporadic thrusts and deep grunts.

Rog’s hands left your breasts to wrap around your thighs, allowing you to be pressed against his chest as his thrusts became rougher. His lips kissed your hair, grunting lowly into it as he fucked with more vigour coming closer to his last few strokes. By then, your ass was a lovely shade of red from the pounding, urging your teeth to chatter and eyes to roll into your head. Drool escaped your lips which Galdor was a dear to wipe away before groaning softly and his cock twitching endlessly in your cunt as it flooded your insides with another load hot load of cum.

He pushed himself all the way to the base, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in your cunt as hot ropes of his cum oozed out. Shortly after, Rog followed with a louder grunt, holding you still as he buried all of him to the hilt in your ass, emptying his load and filling you to the brim. The combined sensation of both of them filling you at the same time left you feeling satisfied. You doubt you could possibly move now that you had three loads of cum stuffed in you.

Reluctantly, Galdor was the first to pull out, leaving behind a stream of cum, followed by Rog who was busy kissing your shoulder and rubbing your ass with his calloused hands. His voice was still deep and sensual as he whispered about how good you were for letting him take your ass and relieve his stress. The other two looked on at Rog’s tenderness, smiling, before Galdor grabbed a wet cloth and moved to clean up the spilt cum dripping out. However, the sight was a beauty to their eyes, seeing you consumed by them with a mark left behind.

It wasn’t long before you were immersed in the hot water with Galdor attached to your side, washing you off while the other two Lords relaxed. His touch was gentle as he pushed your hair out of the way, or lifted your arms and parted your legs to wash the sweat off. The exchange was tranquil with the sounds of the water trickling into the pools the only sounds heard as you all cooled off. It was only a matter of time before the others showed up and had their turn.

“It would appear that the three of them are lost!” exclaimed Rog while he waded through the water to the deeper end, flashing you another view of his chiselled body. “Which is odd given their excitement to the proposal.”

“One can say so for lord Ecthelion, not the other two,” chuckled Galdor. He was entirely relaxed, his demeanour already switched from the charming devil he displayed five minutes ago.

Smiling and nodding along to the lords, Galdor brushed his fingers around your nipples, enjoying the sight of them erected from his touch having abandoned the washcloth. Listening to them discuss the turnout of events for the night should the others not show up on time, he gently guided your body to sit between his to allow his hands to cup your breasts and play with your nipples. Your body melted into his at the touch as your head rested against his shoulder. In no time, his left hand slid beneath the water to cup your cunt and slip two fingers between your folds to enter your heat.

Immediately, they curled against your sweet spot, having found it after a little searching, eliciting a faint gasp from you as your fingers curled into his thighs. Slumping against him, the moment was soothing and relaxing as he took his time to thrust his fingers in and out while the heel of his palm grazed your clit. With your eyes shut and lips slightly parted, the conversation continued without your care of whether the Lords would appear. At least you were being pleasured while relieving theirs since it was the deal made.

“Does it feel good?” His mellow voice tickled your ear compared to your ragged breathing as your pleasure grew in large increments. The aftermath of your previous orgasms left you sensitive and open for the rest to flow without resistance. Lifting a hand from his thigh to hold onto his submerged wrist, you clamped your legs around his hand, forcing it to stay there as you rocked your body in tune with his rhythm. “Are you close already, My Lady?”

Nodding with a soft, raspy whine, you bumped your head against his shoulder blades, while continuing your rocking motion. Galdor smiled down at your form unravelling in his arms from the use of his fingers alone; a bit of pride welled in his chest. Bounding his arms around your waist as he felt the tightness growing, he fastened his hold mustering a small portion of his strength as you wriggled. Steadying his pace and brushing his finger repetitively, it was easier said than done, you came apart in his arms with the release of a silent scream.

As though the timing of the situation could not get any better, the arrival of the three stooges waltz into the private section of the bathhouse, already disrobed and flaunting their majestic figures. Egalmoth was the first to enter, eyes landing on your slumped figure curled in his fellow Lord’s arms, followed by Ecthelion tailing behind Glorfindel. All three Lords strolled in with an air of confidence, ready for tonight’s frivolities.

“It appears that we arrived in the nick of time?” laughed Egalmoth as he entered the pool, his silvery hair undone and cascading his body like liquid silver.

“We assumed you all cancelled, giving us the opportunity to invest a little more,” counter Galdor with a smirk.

Clicking his tongue, Glorfindel was the one to reply as he waltzed closer to where you sat. “That does not sound like you Lord Galdor, greedy.”

“What can I say? I am a stressed Elf Lord.”

Tailing behind Glorfindel silently, Ecthelion took in your flustered appearance, melting against the Galdor’s chest. Mimicking his fellow golden-hair Lord, he squatted to brush your hair out your face with a small smile gracing his lips. Both Lord gestures prompted the brown-haired Lord to aid you to your feet and guide you through the steps they were waiting to pamper you.

Briskly, yet gingerly, you waded through the water, out of the pool and into the arms of Glorfindel who embraced you with a brilliant smile. Catching a glimpse of his and lord Ecthelion’s physique and other appreciative body parts, you were surely going to end up incapacitated tonight and you had yet to witness Lord Egalmoth. Regardless, you knew his physique was also impressive given his boastful tendencies.

You ran a finger down Glorfindel’s abdomen and outline his V-line, stopping right above his cock when you heard him hiss. The devilish grin which formed on your face only fuelled your actions when you also reached out to repeat the same on Ecthelion who stood adjacent.

“Greetings to you, My Lords. I hope your time spent in my company is pleasurable.” Falling to your knees while you looked up to witness both their brows arched and lips bitten, you cast a wink and gripped their cocks. The recognition that the others were watching was long gone from your consciousness when you had two Lords erected cocks in your face.

Stroking their lengths and listening to their moans, no time was wasted as you leaned forward to capture the tip of Ecthelion’s cock in your mouth, sucking the tip before pushing your head deeper. His hands immediately flew to your head, fingered entangling in your hair and guiding you along his length as choruses of moans escaped his lips. Bobbing your head along his length as best as you could, pulled away and switched to Glorfindel’s cock, though, he was much more challenging to take like Rog’s. Getting him past your lips was easy, but fitting the rest in your mouth, your hand had to cover.

Though, to Glorfindel, he enjoyed the sight of your mouth wrapped around his cock with a bit of struggle, and similar to Ecthelion, his fingers wove into your hair and did their best to move your head along his girthy length. As difficult as it was at first, you were able to take more of him and soon, you were switching between both cocks, lavishing them with your mouth and hands. Bobbing your head as you altered between different cocks, both Lords stood with their abdomen clenched and hands in your head, relishing in the heavenly abode of your mouth.

“I would not mind being treated like this every time I am stressed,” groaned Glorfindel as you placed kisses along his length, from the base to tip. “Fuck, just like that, sweetheart—you’re doing so well.”

“Is there room for me to be included because I feel left out?” The approaching footsteps of Egalmoth padded lightly from behind as he observed you caring for his friends while he stood with a painfully erected cock, leaking precum.

Opening his eyes at the intrusion of his moment, Ecthelion grumbled a curt, “Wait your turn.”

Laughing at the response after discussing all that they would do together with you, Egalmoth sauntered over and fell to his knees. There, amongst your ministrations with his fellow companions, his lips fell upon your skin. At first, his kisses and bites were affectionate, filled with a touch of playfulness while his hands roamed your front, fingers dancing dangerously close to your mound, and parting your hair to run his fingers along your lips. But easily his kisses grew hungry, and lust filled as he grazed his teeth against your skin while he ground his hips into your ass once a finger slipped between your fold to dance with your clit.

You partially froze with Glorfindel’s tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, prompting him to jerk. Egalmoth took this as a sign to proceed and travel his finger further south where he came to your sensitive entrance and unmistakeably sunk two fingers inside, crossing them and aiming for your soft spot. Grounding his cock against your ass while matching the rhythm to the thrusting of fingers left you breathless on both Lord’s cocks. Your grip tightened every few seconds, prompting impatient hisses to be emitted from their lips.

Very soon, Egalmoth’s lips began to descend down your back, his free hand sweeping your hair out the way as he made a line all the way to your ass, not without biting a cheek.

“Are you serious?” you muttered with laughter in your tone.

A casual shrug before he parted your legs, fingers still embedded in your cunt, he grinned. “Couldn’t resist something so plump and juicy,” he laughed. “Why don’t we shift towards the bench; it’s more comfortable.”

The other two, frozen in their plethora of pleasure, were abruptly brought out of their revere and nodded along, not wanting to waste a second more when their pleasure was so high.

Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself being arranged into a familiar position you were folded into, moments ago. Back pressing against Glorfindel’s chest and legs crooked and pressing into your sides, Egalmoth knelt between them with his large warrior hands gripping the back of your thighs with his control slipping away inch by inch. To your right, you were met with Ecthelion’s elegant yet, angry erection contorting towards your face to be put out of misery. Inhaling deeply through your mouth, you bit your lips when Glorfindel’s cock head rubbed against your rear entrance before he gently pressed and inched himself in slowly.

“Shit,” you groaned as his cock slid in, thicker and heavier than most, making your eye droop.

Your entire body moved as he sharply inhaled at your tightness, wondering if the others had even dared to enter. Immediately, his hands found purchase on your breasts, his calloused texture, rough against your skin, provided the right amount of pleasure to your sensitivity. Once his cock was embedded and his feet were planted into the floor, Egalmoth descended, without a minute to spare, on your cunt, his mouth covering the entire to give you long lavish licks, making your toes curl and eyes cross. “Hmm, fuck you taste sweet,” came the muffled voice of Egalmoth as he wasted no time dragging his tongue through your folds. Not one for being left behind, Ecthelion soon followed with a firm grip on your jaw as he tapped the head of his cock against your lips for you to take him into your warm, wet cavern.

Feeling a greater pressure already welling up inside your lower abdomen from the steady mixture of Glorfindel’s thick cock thrusting deeper and Egalmoth’s tongue flicking your clit, you were well on your way to an early release. All your emitted sounds were being choked on Ecthelion’s cock plunging in and out your mouth. You could barely keep up with your tongue’s ability to run along his length as he controlled the pacing, leaving you gurgling and moaning in muffles.

“Such a good girl, love,” whispered Glorfindel as he spoke with a deep guttural. “You’re taking me so well.”

As you were being used for your purpose, your previous onlookers smiled and gleamed with desire still swimming in their eyes as they marvelled at the sight. Glorfindel’s and Ecthelion’s cocks worked in sync, thrusting with a rhythm alongside Egalmoth skilful tongue on your clit, to leave you trembling, unable to catch your breath. The slick sounds of wet skin against each other, accompanies by the sweet, lustful moans of the Lords made your pussy clench and leak more arousal for Egalmoth to swallow up. What he missed, covered Glorfindel’s cock to aid with deeper penetration.

Pulling Ecthelion’s cock out your mouth and wrapping your hand around his length. You sucked in a struggled, deep breath. “Sl–…ow down…too deep…” you breathlessly stuttered out as they were getting deeper and rougher with their actions. “Hmph! Shit!”

From beneath you, Glorfindel laughed and dragged his hands off your breasts to cup your ass and drive himself deeper, increasing the sounds of his heavy balls slapping your ass. On the other end, Ecthelion rolled his eyes and slapped your hand off his cock before directing himself back into your wet cavern.

For every penetration of Ecthelion’s cock, you felt every ridge and vein along his cock, tasting the semi-sweetness of his precum on your tongue, Glorfindel’s cock slid out slowly until the tip was all that was left in. For each thrust, there was a faint stinging sensation left on your ass from his powerful hips. Whereas Egalmoth refused to be a tease at this moment and sunk his fingers—three—into your slick entrance, ensuring that all your holes were occupied with something enjoyable. The combined act of both fingers and tongue fuelled the burn in your abdomen and the pulsation in your pussy like a small, violent heartbeat. You swore that you were straight up losing your mind the more they continued.

It was difficult to keep up with the wickedness of Egalmoth’s mouth on your pussy, licking and sucking as if there was some liquid gold running out. The lewd sounds of his mouth and fingers in contact with your slickness, caused a few of the onlookers to grin as they remembered your taste moments ago. In the back of your mind, you could make out the faint exchange of laughter they released as you shut your eyes and clenched your muscles around Egalmoth’s finger and Glorfindel’s cock as your umpteenth orgasm washed over. Ecthelion was the one to slip his cock out your mouth to give you a moment to breathe when Egalmoth waved him over to switch positions.

Immediately Ecthelion slipped his cock into your heat, swearing and shutting his eyes at how wet and warm you were. He knew in a matter of seconds he was about to combust; at least he needed to enjoy a minute or two. Wasting no time and not caring about build-up or matching Glorfindel’s pace, he inserted himself and started pounding away, gripping your thighs with more venom to ensure that you were filled to the brim. The weight of his cock, less than Glorfindel’s, still carried an unforgettable signature that left your toes curling as he fucked you into sensitivity while rubbing your clit.

“Gods you feel too good,” he groaned. “You’re going to make me finish early.”

Chuckling, Egalmoth had stepped aside, wanting to have you all to himself once they were over. He moved over to sit at the edge of the pool as Ecthelion and Glorfindel went to work, increasing their pace to drill into you harder. Your sweet cries turned into hiccups as you struggled to take the brutal pounding from both noble warriors.

“Oh fuck!” you whined, dragging your sound and turning it into a squeal when one of Glorfindel’s hands reached down to rub your clit, joining his friend. Your eyes were half-closed as they were a mixture of crossing and rolling into your head. “Nghh! God I close.”

Grinning triumphantly from under you, the golden-haired Lord’s lips ran across your shoulder, kissing and biting, whispering filth into your ears to drive you over the edge. For each word that left his lips, they both felt how you contracted around them and sucked them in further with absolute want. Needing them to drive themselves in further and deeper until they painted your insides white. Your desire for wanting to milk them dry as they melted within your soft walls, enjoying the lavish massaging in return for their cocks rubbing you just right, caused Glorfindel to spiral first.

His hips stuttered as his moans turned into grunts, and his fingers never ceased rubbing your clit as he gave one last hard thrust and pushed his cock to the hilt as he emptied himself, basking in the clenching of your muscles squeezing him. Ecthelion was one to follow shortly after with the swelling of his cock being felt by you before painting your insides white as well. Both their melodic panting, echoing in your ear was stirring your insides all over again as if to have another round. And, as if they were able to sense your thoughts, Ecthelion smiled and shook his head while Glorfindel chuckled. Furthermore, the sight of your cunt stained with cum was tempting to overstay and release another load.

Fighting the urge to stay a while longer in your warmth, he was the first to gently pull out and release your legs from his deadly grip, giving apologetic squeezes to them.

“So sorry, darling. Do forgive me,” Ecthelion sweetly apologised as he bent down to kiss your thighs. “But let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tiredly murmuring something unrecognisable, he brought you to your feet, leading you to wince at the sensation of their cum trickling out and down your thighs. However, Glorfindel was sad to let you go already, but he knew before the night was over, he’d have you again. As you stood, Glorfindel couldn’t resist outstretching his hands to give each of your ass cheeks a quick squeeze. Your head swivelled around to stare at him questioningly. In return, he offered a boyish grin. “I can’t resist it.”

Now on your feet, you melted into Thel’s embrace as he brushed your hair out of your sweaty face before whisking you over to the pool to immerse your body in the hot water. And like a magnet, Egalmoth found his way to your side and pulled you against his chest. “They were quite rough on you, sweetness,” he apologetically whispered into your shoulder as he kissed it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you later.”

His words earned an eye roll from all the other Lords who either scoffed or slapped water at him.

Eventually, with all the Lords finally present in the pool with you, washing themselves off and discussing their daily gossip, you relaxed. The night was still young with many hours to go before everyone agreed that their fills were satisfied, and you were officially aware of how hungry each of them was. Thankfully with their caring nature and focus on aftercare, you were more than able to take them all over again…a few more times.

Feeling the wet sponge being dragged over your shoulders as Egalmoth continued to wash off the sweat, you closed your eyes and melted into his chest. “I don’t mind doing this more often once I get good aftercare.”

Growing content at your words, he leaned in and kissed your neck. “I’m glad that you are enjoying yourself,” he murmured while his other hand snaked around your waist to pull you onto his lap. The minute you sat on his lap, you felt his erection pressing against your back. “But I wouldn’t mind being a bit sneaky and having more of you right now. What do you say, pretty girl?”

“I would be a fool to decline,” you giggled as you shifted and eased yourself on his cock as he delicately slipped himself in, both doing your best to not make a sound as the others laughed.

“Now let’s see how well you can keep quiet…”

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[lamemaster]

The Curse of Bloodlines (Epilogue 😔)

Request: For the annon who sends me this request every day. You know who you are and you have my respect fellow gremlin.

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

AN: I never wanted to write this. But alas for those who cannot live without a happy ending go thrive. Please no more requests for this AU after this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue |

"Atyo!" You peel Celegorm's hands off Thranduil's throat. At once your uncles are at the task of taking him to another room as you follow them. Not daring to look back at him. Too scared that you might not be able to leave if you do.

Perhaps it was the fear of finding the same disdained look you had witnessed in Arda. The fear of being subjected to it had left your eyes anywhere but, Thranduil.

So you focus all your attention on your father, who almost escapes the grasp of 4 of his brothers, including Uncle Maedhros, who towered over the majority in Valinor.

"Ata, not now," your voice cuts through the din, surprisingly firm despite the tremor in your heart. Your father's face contorted in a snarl, but something in your voice, perhaps the raw emotion, caused him to pause.

"Let me go!" he roared, his voice thick with fury. "I won't be mocked by that… that…" he trailed off, his tongue failing him to find an insult that wouldn't ignite another confrontation.

You shake your head and lead him out. "Let's leave. Grandfather is waiting."

You clenched your jaw, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. This meeting, the one you'd dreaded since your days in the Halls of Mandos, had been a disaster. And the worst part? It was just the beginning.

Meeting your father was something you had wished for forever. An unfulfilled yearning you grew up with. The same yearning Legolas grew up with. Absence of a bond that made the entirety of an existence.

Settling in his arms was a comfort unknown to you in life. Death had been kinder in many ways.

The agony of right and wrong seared on both you and your father. Ignorance of the bond that is most priced above any other. Blood that had cost you the love of your husband and the chance to watch your son grow.

But things that once shredded your heart into pieces now were distant worries. The sting of betrayal and the ache of lost years paled in comparison to the warmth of your father's embrace. His tearful apologies, whispered promises of redemption, were a balm to your wounded soul.

You met then, your uncles, your grandfather, your great-grandfather, An entire clan doomed in the halls of death. And so the task of stitching back together the House of Finwe began.

From uncountable days spent sharing stories by the pillar of your Grandfather, Feanor's firey pillar, to bringing along the souls of your troubled cousins Aegnor and Maeglin. Finweans started healing.

And you became the princess of Noldor. A title that came with a hefty price.

Legolas' friendship with Finrod wasn't a surprise. Both, you realized, carried the weight of a love lost to time – a grief you could never fully understand or soothe.

Legolas, however, found solace elsewhere. Celebrimbor, with his gentle spirit, became his closest confidante. He regaled Amrod and Amras with tales of Middle-earth, earning their playful grumbles about being called "grandfathers." Feanor, a name whispered in legends, became a complex figure he learned about through stories and perhaps, even fleeting glimpses of him to and from the forge.

Your interactions with Legolas were tentative at first. You were a stranger to him, a face from stories whispered in hushed tones. He longed to know the woman who carried him.

Awkward silences hung heavy in the air, punctuated by whispered stories of his life in Greenwood. He spoke of Thranduil with respect, but a flicker of sadness lingered in his eyes. He spoke of a man named Estel, a human who had become a dear friend, a story that filled you with bittersweet joy.

Then came the inevitable – a meeting with Master Gimli. Their shared tales of their unlikely friendship brought laughter to the once desolate House of Feanor.

Finally, after much coaxing, you managed to convince Legolas to attend Oropher's feast. You knew a march to invite the entire Noldorian royal family was a tad excessive, even by his standards.

Noldor marching was almost always was a perilous idea.

"Apply this twice a day," you mutter, handing him the small vial. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to meet his gaze. "For the bruises," you clarified, pointing to the dark marks of your father's grip on his throat.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then settled into a mask of stoicism. His eyes, those same eyes that once held the warmth of a thousand sunrises, seemed distant, etched with the weight of untold ages. They held an emotion you couldn't quite define - a far cry from the hatred that burned in them during your last moments together.

His hand brushed against yours as he reached for the vial, sending a jolt through you. The grief that had settled between you, heavy and suffocating, felt like a tangible presence in the air.

"I apologize for my father," you began, your voice barely a whisper. "He is…"

"Troubled," he finished the sentence, his voice surprisingly gentle. "As are we all."

A heavy silence descended upon you once more. He spoke, breaking the quietude, his voice laced with a weary resignation. "I do not know what penance I shall bear to ever right the wrongs I have committed. I have searched for ages, scouring the world, but I cannot find a path back to the past I crave."

"I do not know what repentance I shall bear to ever right the wrongs I have committed," he continued, his voice barely above a murmur. "This yearning for what we once had consumes me, yet I detest it, for I do not believe I am worthy of it." His voice cracked, and for a moment, the once proud king you knew of was now stripped bare, revealing an elf consumed by regret.

The air around you seemed to crackle with unspoken apologies and unspoken yearning. You gathered your courage, forcing the words from your lips. "I do not know much of right or wrong," you began, your voice surprisingly steady. "Neither do I understand the intricacies of penance or forgiveness. Yet, from all I have learned in this strange realm, one thing resonates."

He averted his gaze, his back turned to you, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. All the air seemed to have been sucked from the room, leaving a hollow ache in your chest.

Your mind raced, searching for the right words. "No act is set in stone. No grievance can hold its power over the relentless march of time. My kin, they wronged many, yet even they found a measure of peace." You thought of your uncles, of your father, finally released from the burdens of their choices.

"They were able to return to the light of Aman because they allowed themselves to seek forgiveness," you continued. "Beyond mine or Legolas', it is your own that you require the most." You reached out then, your fingers brushing against his cheek.

"We have all the time in the world." You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a whisper of a kiss. A flawed marriage, a flawed separation, and a flawed reunion, yet, nothing had managed to make it any less sweeter.