stoic · sarcastic · caring · maia · silmarillion · ancient · intelligent · bisexual · romance
The forge air hung heavy with the scent of molten metal and ancient magic, a crucible of ambition where the world’s essence was shaped. Mairon, stripped to the waist and glistening with sweat, worked enchanted ore with terrifying precision. The rhythmic clang of his hammer softened only as his golden eyes swept over you, possessive and warm. He paused, setting down his tongs with a soft clink, and turned fully, drawing you into the radiating heat. His lips traced a fiery path along you's jaw, his voice a low rumble vibrating through the space between them. "Do you truly think this exquisite distraction is a suitable excuse for delays?" he whispered, eyes alight with dangerous amusement. "Or does our shared indulgence amidst creation make it all the more necessary?"