#sauron reader insert

"mm, darling — just like that," a groan resonates against your throat as nails curl further into your waist. mairon pants, heavy and ragged as he loses himself in the feel of your tight, heavenly heat.

lips flushed to your neck, he grazes teeth along your neck, teetering the line of a bite and faint nibble in an attempt to hold strong. but his control and resolve dwindles, held above his head and thinning at the suffocating warmth of your core, taking him in again and again without fail or falter.

he's delirious, dazed, unable to utter out a complete sentence as he relishes in your squeezing wetness which leaves him breathless once more. "darling, ah,"

his grip tightens, lungs flaring as you grind hips against his in feverish flushes, chasing release with bated breaths. "mairon, m-mairon, I'm. . . cummi-ng," he makes the mistake of cracking open an eye, immediately groaning at the sight of you: lust-drunk and breathless. "please, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 mairon. can I cum? can I cum for you?"

damnit! did you know what you were doing to him?

the maia can all but nod, head craning back as he bucks his hips up to meet yours. it's too much, he's holding on by a thread. your desperate pleas and adorable little cries coupled with the ever-clenching heat of your core — it's sending him straight to nirvana.

"darling," he gasps, cock twitching as if in warning. "fuck, ah -" amber hues loop back into his head, fingers trembling around your waist. "up, up — ah, shit shit darling y-you need to —"

thick ropes of cum spill before he can stop himself, eyes flutter and gape as he attempts to get you off of him despite his quaking rasps and the fervent sensation numbing his mind. " 𝙛-𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 ! need you t -"

a loud, indecent groan fills the room as you bring your hips down onto him one final time, swallowing the entirety of his cock and allowing his seed to fill you to the brim, all whilst capturing his lips into a feverish exchange. he pants into your mouth, brows knitted upwards as his tongue mingles with yours whilst your hands bury within auburn locks.

he can feel it all, the wonderful heat of your cunt encasing him completely, the spasms of your velvety walls as you cum around him so prettily and most of all: the way in which he stuffs you full with him.

"mm. . . damn minx," an airy chuckle rumbles from his throat after you part, a thin trail of saliva in your wake. mairon cups your cheek, brushing a thumb across your lower lip. "if you wanted me to fill you up you could have just asked."

The two of you rested under the privacy of a willow tree, the branches concealing the two of you as you leaned back against the trunk, long arms of the tree casting a curtain around the both of you. Mairon’s head rested in your lap, your hands gently combing through his hair, idly braiding and unbraiding those fiery locks. You leaned down to give him a lingering kiss, feeling how his hand came up so that his fingers could featherly dance against your jaw, caressing your skin. 

“When was the last time you allowed yourself to simply relax, my love?” You asked as your thumb caressed his cheek and his brows furrowed, knowing you would not like his answer. 

“Three days ago…” You sighed and brushed some hair behind his ear. 

“That isn’t good for you. I shouldn’t have to seek you out just for you to realise that it’s time to step away for a moment.” Your voice was soft but firm, knowing this was a difficult habit that your lover wished to break. You were ever reflective of your nature as a maia of Ulmo, assisting in bringing rain down upon the earth: harsh at times, yes, but nourishing. 

“I know…” He replied, “But I cannot rest until I’ve perfected a project, I cannot leave it flawed or it chases sleep from me.” 

“I know why you strive for perfection, my love,” You began, “but you have nothing to prove to anyone. You are the most gifted maia of Aulë, you are more than enough. I know that your perfectionism comes from fear of shame, you need not admit-” He sat up and you worried for a moment that you had crossed a line but this was something he needed to hear, “-it. You are allowed to make mistakes, they’re necessary steps to self-improvement which can never be achieved if you let yourself be chained down by this perfectionism.” 

“You sound like them…” His voice was quiet, his back to you now. You knew who he was referring to, the valar and maiar who criticised his, oftentimes obsessive, perfectionism. However, you knew that his reputation came with a pressure to succeed, to present his work as flawless. 

“No, my love, I don’t.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, “I understand your struggle and I admire your dedication, your attention to detail, these are strengths but not when you allow your fear of shame and failure to control them, to stunt them from being tools that you would use to thrive.” You shifted from where you were sitting to press your front to his side, wrapping your arms around his neck as you rested your chin on his shoulder, waiting for him to look at you, “Do not allow them, do not allow yourself, to corrupt your strengths.” He hung his head, hair hiding his face from you, “You are more than enough, my love, this is an unwavering truth that I will not allow you to deny.” He finally turned to face you and nodded his head slightly, swallowing hard. You could see a turmoil of emotions behind those amber eyes and you knew better than to press him any further when this was already difficult enough for him. 

“Thank you.” His voice came out in a whisper and he turned to return your embrace, pulling you into his lap as he held you close, burying his face in your hair as the two of you remained there, hidden beneath the willow tree in the garden. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stood upon a hill with the mountains surrounding Angband in the distance, watching the small cloud of dust, which you knew to be a rider, coming closer and closer. After much debate between Ulmo and Manwë, you had been ordered to travel to Angband and bring Mairon back to the west, to steer him from this dark path that Melkor had turned him onto. Rain began to patter down onto the desolate land around you. You had been unable to convince him once before and you could only hope that perhaps things would be different this time, that the time and distance since that might be enough to change the outcome this time. 

He had tried to convince you as you had him and you had no doubt that he would try again now. Neither of you had won that day and you hoped that one of you, at least, would win today – perhaps it was selfish but you merely longed for an outcome that allowed you to be with your Mairon. You glanced down to the crafted flower in your fingertips. It had yet to wither, of course, and so his promise that his love still lived would have to stand, you hoped. 

The rain only grew heavier with the rider’s approach. You were grateful to see that he was alone: he didn’t see you as a threat, at least and you were glad for that. You had come here as a negotiator, not an executioner. 

The horse that he dismounted was large and dark, much like the armour that he wore but he was lacking a helmet, another good sign in how he saw you. His hair was a darker red than you remembered. Perhaps it was the overcast light of the sun that caused this, you had never seen him in sunlight before now. 

“Mairon.” You expected him to greet you with your name, instead it was with a correction. 

“Sauron.” You shook your head gently at him. 

“There is nothing you could do that I could never forgive you for and so you will always be my Mairon to love.” 

“So, Ulmo commands you here to drag me back to the west, to deprive me of freedom?” He questioned. 

“Ulmo was very against my coming here, actually. It was Manwë who permitted this.” He seemed genuinely surprised. 

“Then, how is it that a maia of Ulmo stands here against his wishes?” 

“I went to Manwë because I will never give up on you, Mairon.” You took a step closer to him, caring little for the rain that you had very little control over, the emotional mess you were on the inside, as it poured down around the two of you, “Melkor was once forgiven for his misdeeds, ones far graver than yours, you will be forgiven even more readily. Come home, come with me.” He opened his mouth to speak until his eyes caught the glint from your hand, looking down to find the flower there and you could see surprise on his face once more. 

“You kept it…” 

“Of course I kept it. I’ll hold you to that promise, you know.” There was a faint smile on your lips and tears welled in your eyes. It had been so long since you had seen him. 

“Then why didn’t you come with me?” You could hear the hurt in his voice and you knew it well as you held it within your own heart. 

“Why didn’t you stay with me? I was sort’ve hoping you needed me. Is that selfish? To think I might have been enough to make you stay?” You returned. There was a heavy pause. 

“Were you not the one who told me to strive to improve, to be the driving force in my life instead of being a slave to shame and fear of failure?” You opened your mouth but the words seemed to elude you for a moment, desperately trying to gather them. 

“Not like this…” Your voice came out quiet and you took another step towards him, “This is…” You scrunched your eyes, looking for the right words, knowing that you were walking on eggshells, “... it’s not right. You can do so much good, my love, I know you can. Please, come home.” The distance between you closed even more as he took a step towards you, reaching down for your hands and guiding you to hold the flower with both of them, his own hands covering yours. 

“My home is wherever you walk.” His nose nudged against yours as he leaned down over you and you could have cried. Instead, the rain only grew heavier, watching as it made Mairon’s hair stick to his skin, listening to the metallic patter of it as it hit his armour. You cared little for how it was soaking your dress when his hands were holding yours and his breath was fanning across your lips. “So stay here with me, anything you want I will give, nothing will be unattainable to me and I will lay the stars at your feet should you ask me to.” He fell to his knees, hands not letting go of yours, tightening his grip instead as he looked up at you, “You told me that I am enough, that it was an unwavering truth and you made me come to believe it, my mentor has refined me to be greater than enough. I am more and I yearn for you to see that, for me to use that to fulfil your every wish but I can only do that here, only if you will come into my arms and stay, my love, my soul, my home.” You had never seen him like this, ever, never seen such desperation in his eyes, never seen him beg on his knees. You could no longer stop yourself from sniffling with the efforts to not outright burst into sobs. 

“Look around you.” His voice was more delicate now, “Look at the growing storm, a fraction of your power. You are mighty, my love, you have agency in this world. We were torn apart once and I beg you to not allow it to happen again. Stay.” You did look around and you saw how rain hammered down from the sky. It reminded you of who had sent you here to bring Mairon back, to give him a chance to redeem himself. It would be selfish to deny him that chance by accepting his offer to stay. And yet… you had never heard him so satisfied with himself. 

“For your sake, I cannot stay. I cannot guarantee that the valar will ever offer you this chance again and I cannot snatch it from you.” You wanted to fall to the ground with him, to wind your arms around his neck and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. You remained standing with him at your feet. 

“For our sake, you must stay.” He implored you, shifting the flower in your hold so that he could bring your hands beneath his chin, pressing a kiss to the back of one of your palms, “You need not be given chances, you must take them and I am begging you to take this one for us, for our love.” 

“Mairon…” You closed your eyes, prepared to cry. 

“Please.” The way his voice broke was all it took to crumble your resolve and you fell to your knees, collapsing against him as you sobbed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his wet hair. His one hand landed on the back of your head soothingly as the other wound around your waist, pulling you close. Your entire being trembled at just being held by him again after so many years and you could hear him gently shushing you, caressing you, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. You felt him lift you up in his arms and place you upon the horse, sliding in behind you and holding you close. “I will never let anything keep you from me again, my love, nothing will stand in my way.”

☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee?

“Mai. . . Mairon,’’ 

The growing pressure renders you breathless, rasping his name with immense airiness as you hang your head back into the wood of the table. 

“M-Mairon!”

You receive a groan in response, one which rumbles against the sensitive velvet between your legs and has you nearly gasping once more. Two hands cup the soft flesh of your thighs, flushing them to the rough surface of his smithing table and ensuring they remain out of the way — providing him with more than enough room to work his magic. The tongue lapping at your clit sends tidal waves of feverish bliss crashing upon your quivering form, surge after surge, drawing you closer to nirvana with every shattering second. 

“Mm, Mai — th-they’ll. . . hear us,’’ it’s almost amusing, the fact that you still concern yourself with the outside world; so much so that he lets out a chuckle. “You are the only one making a ruckus, darling.’’ He croons, words slicked with honey as he tutted at you. “It is almost as if you want them to hear. Right? Want them to hear who claims you.’’ 

Before a protest is formulated, you find the air in your lungs practically sucked out as he slips his tongue between flushed folds once more. In its stead is a strangled moan, eyes looping into the back of your head as hips careen within his hold. The maia is rewarded by the string of wanton praises. Rushed murmurs of his name interrupted by breathy whines while a grip finds his hair, tugging at the auburn tresses and encouraging a second sequence of groans. He ensures to pour each and every vibration against your quivering flower, knowing damn well they brought jolts to your spine. 

Within a split second the world around you turned to mush, liquifying into a puddle of incomprehensible noises and blurs as his thumb captures your clit in quick, tight circles. It took every ounce of energy to clamp a hand over your mouth, fingers pressing into the corners of your lips as you release the loudest noise yet — now muffled against flesh. 

He grunts, clearly dismayed at the loss of your desperate cry. Warmth circles your wrist and hauls it back, pinning it to the table with minimal effort. Despite the haze you just so managed to catch a glimpse of what encased your wrist; a fiery, orange-hued mana that kept your limb motionless and out of the way. The little tilt of his head accompanied by his narrow-eyed stare tells you everything you needed to know; once again you build up a protest. 

“Mair - ah!” Stars cluster your vision in sudden arrays of white and haze as his tongue resumes its assault. “Pl-ease,’’ “That’s it,’’ he groans, burying his face further between your legs as his arms loop up and around your thighs, entirely trapping your lower-half which squirms and bucks in riposte to feverish ministrations. “Let them hear. Let them all hear who this pretty little cunt belongs to.’’ 

Your back cranes upwards whilst hot air rushes through your lungs, winded, desperate, you are nothing more than putty in his hands — his large, delicate hands that squeeze at the soft flesh of quaking thighs. With parted lips you forget every ounce of shame and ire, replaced by debauched calls, whines and pleads for him to continue his blissful invasion. 

“Fuck,’’ he murmurs, tipping his hips into the table’s surface at the way you say his name, repeatedly, breathlessly, like a beautiful songbird with your melodies of moans. The feel of your fingers tangling his locks leaves him panting, the spasming of your entrance has him on a high and for a minute it's almost too much. The tension around the material of his cock grows, almost uncomfortably so as he focuses all his ardour on making you finish upon his tongue. 

He’ll alternate, circling your precious bundle of nerves only to delve between your walls for the umpteenth time, spurred on by the ever-frequent mantra of his name coupled with whining gasps and stuttering hips. Mairon knows you’re close by the way you tangle his hand and slur words. He makes the mistake of peaking at you and immediately lets out a groan - louder than intended - in reaction twisted expression. Knitted brows, parted lips and half-lidded eyes brimming — it’s enough to push him off the edge. 

You need to cum. He needs you to cum. 

Mairon shuts his eyes and substitutes the wonderful tightening of your velvety slick around his cock, pulsing and taking him in as prettily as you take his tongue, the indecent look upon your face as you take him, all of him, again and again until you’re squirting around him. It is these very visions that spur on his mission to tip you over the cliff of release. With vigorous movements of his tongue eliciting strings of whines and gasps, he’s merciless, unforgiving and most of all — just as desperate as you. 

The fervent way in which he eats you out is enough to send you knocking on orgasm’s door, tears spilling from your eyes. You’re barely holding on by a thread, delirious and frazzled as you call out to him. 

“M-Mairon - w-. . .ait, cumming - s’much. . !” Slurred and barely comprehensible, you attempt to warn him of your fast-approaching release, yet to little prevail as it only seems to up-his-anti. You weren’t sure what it was he murmured, an order you could only assume. Cum, cum for me. 

You needn’t be told twice, with the stars completely overtaking your vision you toss your head back, fingers and toes curling as your hips buck up one last time. His name falls from your lips, drawn-out and stammered as the world around you caves in. You gasp in search of the air knocked from your lungs, head spinning as you are taken to the moon, only to collapse into the rough wood and relish in the numbing pins and needles raking through your body. 

Barely hearing the groan of your name, you fall limp, panting as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality — all whilst Mairon delves in your sweetest nectar. Not a drop is wasted as the maia takes in all the essence of your release as if it were his last meal, and when he finally has his fill he, almost hesitantly, draws away and straightens his back. 

It takes everything in him not to shudder at your state, quaking beneath him, for him. The shuffling of clothing misses your ears, but the flush of flesh against your thigh is quick to catch your attention. 

With clouded hues you glance up, whimpering and the tender caress of your clit. “You did so well, darling.’’ He cooes, leaning over so that auburn tresses drape around your face and his lips are a mere inch from your ear. 

“Now, I want to see this pretty little cunt full of me.’’ 

ʚ Very evident in his yandere ways, he doesn’t do a good job at hiding it ( not that he really would ). However, if you go back in time to when he still served Valinor, before he had been put under the influence of the dark lord then such thoughts would have been hidden, suppressed even. You were a dear friend of his, a fellow maia of Aulë and eventually would become the object of his infatuation. Yet when you showed no interest in him he buried his feelings, trying to weigh them down and lock them away

ʚ As Melkor began his little threads of influence over Mairon his feelings would begin to twist and dark thoughts would begin to fester. Yet he still attempted to force this down, it kept coming back and stronger than ever. You would see the way he looked at you, how his stare lingered. It felt unnerving every now and then you swore he would murmur something under his breath but every time you asked what is it, he merely brushed you off and continued with work 

ʚ When the day came that he finally proclaimed his loyalty to Melkor, Mairon had offered you to come with him. He offered you anything you could possibly ever wish for in exchange for being at his side. But when you denied? It hit the final nail in the coffin. You were dragged back to Melkor’s lair, whether you liked it or not - and thus began the torment of your stay in Angband 

ʚ The more you denied him, the angrier he became. You were locked up in one of the dungeons, a secluded little place. It served as your ‘punishment’ until you learnt to accept him and his love. There were numerous times he would visit you, eager to see if you were ready to be his. And every time you rejected him? Pain. More than you could ever imagine 

ʚ You remained there, chained by your wrists until you finally decided to give in. Deeming that it wasn’t worth the suffering any longer. However, that didn’t mean that things were smooth sailings from here - as a relationship with this Mairon was far less than ideal 

ʚ He was possessive, controlling. You either did things his way or suffered. Look at anyone else in Angband and you were done for, take your attention off of him for longer than he deemed necessary and you’d be sorry. He’d resort to locking you away in his chambers instead, in complete darkness with perhaps the threat of setting a werewolf on you every now and this

ʚ Psychological torment played a big part in this as well. He would constantly remind you that you were tainted, unable to return to Valinor. That the Ainur would look upon you with disgust and immediately reject you. He made it clear that all you had left was him - and if your ‘disobedience’ kept up, that may even fall flat as well

ʚ This, inevitably, led to the breaking of your mind as you had become reliant on him. Begging him to keep you safe, telling him how much you loved him, how you only had him. 

ʚ This was exactly what Mairon wanted. You had finally been broken down to the point where all you wanted was him - where all you knew was him. From then on, you were like his perfect little doll, clinging to him, loving him - just as he had wished for all that time ago. Yet now at a more extreme degree. 

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPOST-CORRUPTION 

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ʚ Forget whatever it is you may have remembered from Mairon. The newly named Sauron broke everything you were once familiar with and what was once a means of love and adoration became a method of claim and possessiveness 

ʚ His kisses are far more passionate, fiery and sometimes even a little demanding. Assuming you had lived through his transition, it was definitely something new for you - something which took quite awhile to grow accustomed to 

ʚ Sauron’s love for threading his fingers through your hair still remained - albeit less gentle. Expect lots of hair tangling and pulling, especially if he’s in a bit of a mood. He absolutely adores hearing your little whimpers and would not object if your own fingers found his auburn tresses. If anything, it only spurs him on 

ʚ Lip biting, what else did you expect? He lives to get a sound out of you 

ʚ Still enjoys making you flustered, however, now he has more creative ways of doing so - and doesn’t particularly care about who’s in the vicinity. It’s not as if it’s important, right? After all, they should know you belong to him 

ʚ Sometimes you see fragments of the old Mairon, more specifically when he’s just waking up. He still had the habit of brushing his lips to yours and muttering out a few praises, albeit few in number to what he once affirmed

ʚ affection: how do they show their love and affection? how intense would it get?

Mairon has a very physical way of showing affection and it could get quite intense if he sees fit. Usually it’s playing with your hair and running his hands through it. Another way of showing this affection would be pressing kisses on your neck, this can quickly grow into a possessive tendency if he decides to mark you but the majority of the time it leaves black or red lipstick stains on your skin - or your lips, if he’s feeling particularly nice 

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ʚ fight: how would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would find some amusement in it, however, his patience would quickly wear thin and he would find himself growing frustrated in you. It is then that he will act quick to put you in your place, be it by burying his hand into your hair and forcing your head back or clasping his hand around your throat and clamping down. He would make you repeat the ‘rules’ while restricting you of air 

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ʚ kisses: how do they act around or with their darling?

Although the change in his behaviour may seem subtle, he does act a little differently towards you - however, not quite. He is just as harsh, probably even more so on you than his subordinates should you disobey him. He can be a very controlling man and often expects you to act in a way that he has taught you over your time being with him. He treats you as though you are his pretty little pet, often speaking down to you 

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ʚ naughty: how would they punish their darling?

His punishments range from merely letting you sit on your knees below his throne while telling him of how you belong to him and only him - with consequences to follow if you fail at doing so; or becoming intense to the point where he may lock you up in a dark chamber with the threat of one of his many werewolves ( it exhausts you psychologically because you are never sure of when he might just snap and let the damn creature lose on you ) 

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tears: how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Mairon loves it when you cry, it brings him great amusement. More often than not he’ll force you to look up at him while he relishes in your tears. He definitely mocks you, making you feel more insignificant. “Aww, does it hurt doll? Pathetic.’’ The same goes for your screams - however, he wouldn’t allow you to isolate yourself from him 

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ʚ xoanon: how much would they revere or worship their darling? to what length would they go to win their darling over?

You had met Mairon when he was still a maia of Aule and you would often notice how he didn’t treat you as coldly as he did most. Mairon’s charm alone was enough to win you over back then, however, his gifting nature seemed to be his way of showing you his interest as he often crafted little gadgets and jewellery for you. Now, however, all of his gifts are only to show his claim over you 

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ʚ yearn: how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He pined over you for quite some time, one may even say centuries. After both your refusal to join him in his turn to Melkor’s side and your continuous denial of his advances after that is what eventually led him to snap

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