#melkor x reader smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiatheinsomniac · 1 year

Note

(not me being so quick to send a request, i cannot sleep right now) hi, kia! ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ u know i had to kindly send in a request for my little meow meow — so, imagine: melkor’s vala!lover feeling his cold fingers touching her soft skin as he presses his lips on hers while she sleeps, which leads to both of them, you know, fucking ∗´ര ༝ ര`∗ and, well, melkor feeling his heart flutter and soar when he hears her whiny confession about how she loves him very much as she cums so prettily around him ˶•~•˶ i am soft, and if you do write it, tysm! take care! —🕊️

──── 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: AWWWW I'm a sucker for writing either merciless sadist dom Melkor or sleepy soft Melkor and no in between dhfgkdfag 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Melkor | Morgoth x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, sleepy sex, creampie

You had been stirred awake by cold lips pressed to your mouth and even colder fingers skimming across your exposed body. Oddly enough, one of your first thoughts upon waking was one that you had regularly: it was so very ironic for permanently burnt, blackened hands to be so cold – a part of you expected them to always hold the searing heat of the glittering jewels that had forever deformed them.

A sleepy moan slipped past your lips and was quickly swallowed by his mouth as you groggily reached up to cup his face in your hands, feeling the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones like the faces of the harsh mountains surrounding his home, your home. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake you like this and so, when the two of you finally pulled away, you brushed his hair back gently, tucking those sheets of midnight silk behind his pointed ears as you gazed up at him.

Your eyes were so beautiful to Melkor, especially when you gazed up at him like this. Your eyes were big, bright, kind and he could spend eternity wandering their depths.

“What’s wrong, hm?” You murmured as you leaned up just enough to peck the corner of his mouth. “You’re tense…” You pulled him down and turned your body so that his face was against your chest, your arms wrapping around him to play with his hair and slightly scratch your nails over his shoulder blades.

“It’s just been a long day of commanding production in the forges… We lost a lot of orcs in the last battle and now the armoury workers are falling behind. We cannot arrange a counter attack without the necessary provisions…” There was an edge to his voice by the end of his answer and you simply dipped your head down to press a kiss to his hairline before pulling him in tighter, wishing to soothe him with your embrace and grant him a break from the stresses of being the Dark Lord. You softly shushed him as you steadied out your breathing in the hopes that he would mirror you and relax some.

“Well you can worry about that in the morning, it’ll do you no good to keep on stressing in your own time now.” You assured him, “You’re an excellent leader and you have a brilliant lieutenant helping you out too… everything will be fine, dearest.” You assured him and were met with a groan in reply that you knew would be followed by a list of reasons as to why he was sure everything would not be fine. So, to curb said list of reasons, you distracted your lover with one of the best ways that you knew how.

Your hand on the back of his head that had been threading through his hair now pushed his face into your chest, your boobs pressed together with how you were laying on your side and any protest that he might have had was shut up when anything he tried to say was muffled within your cleavage. However he showed no signs of retaliation and instead wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, tangling your legs as he let out a content moan into the plush skin of your breasts.

“Because there are better ways to spend your time than fretting, aren’t there?” You suggested with a seductive lilt to your tone and Melkor, in turn, squeezed you before you felt his lips begin to trail open-mouthed kisses across your plush flesh. You simply let out a pleased hum and buried your face in his hair as little shivers danced through your body to the sensation of his intimacy. You held him even closer and could feel the rumble of his laugh and some muffled words before you eased up your hold just a bit.

You were rolled onto your back, your nightshirt bunched up in his large hands and pushed to just beneath your breasts as his lips pressed earnestly to your sternum.

“And I suppose that smothering me is the better pastime?” He mused, pale grey eyes rolling up to meet your gaze.

“You didn’t seem too opposed.” You teased back and you could feel the curved smile upon his mouth as he kissed down your body, hands cupping your hips to coax you to lift them.

“Hm… I think I’d rather be smothered elsewhere right now…” Your hands flew down to tangle in his silken tresses when his mouth made its way between your legs and he wasted no time in lapping at your arousal as though it were a delicacy. He ate you like a man savouring the sweetest dessert right up until you felt yourself on the cusp on an orgasm and you pushed him away by the shoulder with a shaky palm.

“No, want…” Your chest rose and fell rapidly with your panted breaths as you tried to take in a breath deep enough to get your words out, “Want to come with you ‘nside me.” He let out a moan at your words, a proud smile on his slick-coated lips before he made a show of licking them clean.

His arm hooked beneath the arch of your spine to tug your body closer to his in one swift motion so that your chest was pressed to his and the sensation of your plush breasts pressed against him only sent heat further pooling beneath his belt that he was pulling open in impatient, jerky motions.

He wasted little time in sinking into you, slowly, observant of your facial expressions to ensure that he wasn’t hurting you. Melkor knew how to hit all of your sweet spots and so he wasted no time in grinding into your mushy cunt, repeatedly rubbing against a place that had you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body with your arms looping around his neck as your back arched up to press your chest against his.

“There you are, pretty…” He cooed once he heard the sweet moans you were muffling against his neck. You whined as he pulled out right to the swollen tip of his cock before crying out as he suddenly plunged right back into you. He then set up a slow but hard pace, groaning and sighing at the pleasurable sting of your nails in his back.

You let out the sweetest noises as his hands on your waist slid down to your hips, pausing briefly to squeeze them, before wandering further down to your thighs. He squeezed your soft flesh as though you were a being to be revered by all. You soon found your knees nearly on either side of your head and your head fell back against the bed as he could now reach even deeper into you and as you were still completely waking up, all you could think of was just how full you felt.

“M’kor…” You stuttered out his name between quick, panted breaths and increasing moans, one of your hands on his back gliding over his shoulder and to his jaw which you cupped in your palm, fingers tangled in his midnight hair so that you could pull him down into a messy kiss. “So good… so good to me.” He muffled a moan against your neck as your pussy squeezed around him tighter but you didn’t allow him to keep his noises quiet like that, instead swallowing all of his moans with desperate, clumsy kisses as your body seemed to tense up with the coil in your abdomen that was on the very verge of snapping. “Love you… I love you, I love you so much!” You rambled out as you came around his cock, keeping your legs locked around him so that he couldn’t pull out of you as his hips continued to piston against your in wet paps, your arousal and orgasm now slicking his abdomen. Oh how you made his hardened heart flutter when you said such sweet things while he pounded your little cunt.

You clung to him as though your life depended on it, fingers tugging on his hair as you felt the warmth of his load spilling into you, your legs trembling at the small rolls of his hips as he began to grind into your cum-filled cunt. The two of you were panting as he collapsed onto your body, peppering your neck in kisses as you buried your face in his dark hair, holding him close to your body.

After a few minutes of silence, you were the first to speak up: “Feeling better?”

“Much, my love.” He breathed out, resting his head upon your chest, “I love you.” He melted further into you at the sensation of your fingers gently detangling his hair, running over his scalp, “Oh, I love you…”

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me?∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@clumsycopy @edensrose @augustwithquills @involuntaryspasms @eunoiaastralwings @spidergirla5 @hiddenflowerx @singleteapot @noldorinpainter @cilil @yourfamilyfriendsatan @firagirl

#✎ kia’s 2k event ༉‧ ♡*.✧#🕊️ anon #melkor x reader smut #melkor smut #melkor x reader #melkor #morgoth smut #morgoth x reader smut #morgoth x reader #morgoth #silm x reader #silm smut #silmarillion smut #silmarillion #silmarillion x reader

170 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 10 months

Text

When You Fake An Orgasm | The Ainur

A/N: I realised that I haven't been posting any Ainur content which is bad. Just the usual bunch, no Oromë, Ulmo, Ossë and Tulkas. Perhaps in a separate post, I'll write for them.

Warnings: fem!reader, bondage, rough sex, edging, overstimulation (multiple orgasms), orgasm denial, temperature play, asphyxiation, pet names (princess, dollface, doll), reader passing out, impact play

༻¨*:·Manwë

This Vala doesn’t play when it comes to you faking something he’s passionate about, and it was perhaps your worse mistake because he’ll keep you up all night to tire you out. Manwё doesn’t have a problem fucking it into your mind, so you never make the mistake again. It’s more pleasure for him.

For a moment, you felt smaller than normal under the scrutiny of his glare when you faked your moans and trembled your legs, acting all tired and sleepy. His thrusts slowed and his arms that gripped your thighs dropped them. One hand snaked easily up your torso and gripped your chin, forcing you to look him in his eyes while the other snatched your hands and pinned them above your head. In an instant, his pace picked back up but with more vigour and power, rocking the bed and trembling your bones. “Faking your orgasm with me princess…when I know exactly what this cunt feels like when it cums?” He laughed and scoffed.

Pulling himself off your sweaty body and straightening himself to prepare for the onslaughter he was about to deliver, it was alright if he ran late to his little meeting with Lord Námo. He had to teach you a lesson first. “If you wanted me to fuck you better, you simply had to ask. But for you little stunt, I’ll make you beg me to cum.” You couldn’t help but widen your eyes as the power of his thrusts increased making your eyes roll in the back of your head. The loud, whiney and pathetic moans that left your lips, begging him to slow down make him laugh. “M-Manwё…p-…please slow d-down, I’m s-sorry…ngghh. Won’t do it…again…” Kissing his teeth, he repositioned him, releasing your chin and pushing your legs over his shoulders, folding you into the bed. “Don’t complain, love, you asked for this, or would you rather me deny you?” Shaking your head frantically at the second option, you whined and begged him not to. “Good girl, consider this mercy with a warning…don't attempt this again.” With that, he kissed your lips and went to work with delivering all his promised overstimulation, sending you to sleep earlier than usual.

༻¨*:·Irmo

You are playing a dangerous game with his Vala who basically has a hand in manipulating sexual pleasure. Irmo isn’t going to let your little game go so easily, he’s holding it to his heart. So, tell me, why fake it? Do you like punishment?

“P-Please…I’m s-…sorry…” you hiccupped with tears streaming down the sides of your pretty face. You were tied to the bed after your little stunt while Irmo sat between your leg, torturously rubbing your clit, fingering and eating you out all that the same time, yet never giving you your release. Edging your for more than an hour, you were covered in a bucket of sweat, tears and hickeys. All the while, Irmo appeared pleased and smug at his artwork. His eyes glittered with affection the longer he stared at how desperately you were searching for your orgasm while he dangled it over your head on a string, out of reach.

“I’m s-…sorry,” he mocked with a laugh, “you sound so pathetic, princess. I thought you didn’t want an orgasm?” He shuffled closer, keeping his finger languorously rubbing circles on your clit, to kiss your forehead. He withheld four orgasms from you, and this was your fifth he was about to deny you. The silver-haired God who hovered over you with a sickeningly sweet and sadistic smile dragged his finger lower and slunk it into your hole and snickered when your eyes rolled back. For a moment, you assumed he was being merciful after the torturous hour he punished you for, but he was attempting to set a record. How long could he edge you for? “I-Irmo, please. I won’t do it again…p-promise,” you whined.

“Oh, I know you won’t because when I’m through, your pretty little brain will remember.”

༻¨*:·Námo

This man has patience, unlike any other being that exists. If you want to play that game with him, the challenge is accepted. I hope you know what you are getting yourself into because your pain is his pleasure.

Gasping and pretending to come down from your high, your body shook and trembled to display your orgasm washing over you. The soft moans that escaped your lips were still a sign of your lover’s cock thrusting deeper and moulding your insides. However, your lover who observed with judging eyes said nothing while you continued your performance. As a being of higher powe, it meant having proper control over his body, and Námo had no problem with showing you how skilled he was. Sighing, he easily gripped your hips, slid himself out to shuffle off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. With confusion in your eyes, you whined at him, demanding that he returned to finish what he started. “Námo, come back! I still need you!”

It was a lesson to remember when he brought out his ropes, tied you up and then relieved himself before your eyes. He was silent the entire time, enjoying the whines and cries for him to release and continue fucking you. Turning his head to silence your complaining, his viridian eyes bored into your frustrated ones and arched a single brow. Peace had settled over the room which allowed him the time to freshen up and redress. The entire time, he passed up and down your tied-up figure without batting an eyelash and focusing on himself. You looked like a spectacle tied to the bedhead, immobilised. Finished dressing, Námo headed to the door, not before giving you a warning. “Since you didn’t want a real orgasm, you can stay like that and enjoy your time without one until I have finished my duties. Contemplate on your wrongs.”

༻¨*:·Melkor

One word, incapacitated. Seriously, don’t play with something he’s passionate about, but then again, this is all gameplay for him. Something like foreplay, so he’ll consider this a warmup for the real course. However, he still wouldn’t take it lightly because he’s putting effort and time into making you cum.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” his deep voice rumbled throughout the room and shook your very fёa. Eyes widened and form trembling, you realised the mistake you made by playing a dangerous prank on him. He wasn’t going to take ‘it was just a joke’ as an excuse for something he was persistent and dedicated to achieving. You were insulting him, an absolutely disgraceful act to commit. Your stutters and words were stuck in your throat when he leaned closer and hovered watchfully as his hips stilled their motion. Melkor waited patiently for some justification for your little stunt—being benevolent just for this one moment. “I’m…I’m sorry—” your apology was cut off, him not wanting to hear the rest of the excuse.

“Of course you are sorry. My little one would never fake an orgasm, huh? Isn’t that so? Yes…” His words were patronising but his hips that regained their momentum and now pistoned in and out your heat were diabolical. Your legs went into a frenzy and began trembling while your nails dug deeply into his biceps. Whimpers and squeaks flew past your lips and incoherent mumblings floated through the air. His laughter at your pathetic state, drool everywhere, eyes rolled into your head and head lulled, echoed deeply in your mind. It screamed at you to never attempt such a challenge again. “Get it in your head dollface, you accept what I give you with gratitude or you get nothing at all,” he whispered against your cheek before dipping his head to attach his lips to your neck. Before the night was over, Melkor had stolen orgasms and given you so many, your body was sent into overstimulation until you passed out.

༻¨*:·Eönwë

He really couldn’t believe that you would go to great lengths and refuse to inform him that he isn’t fucking your right. Like why couldn’t you just tell him he wasn’t doing something right? Was communicating so difficult?

Gripping the sheets for dear life, a sharp moan slipped past your lips when a firm hand came down on your ass, leaving it bright red. Your body was being tossed around like a ragdoll and there wasn’t anything you could do or say. All you had to do was lie there and take all the rough fucking that Eӧnwё was giving. You could feel the anger and pain in his grip and voice when he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Is this enough, or am I still not fucking you right? Hmm? Don’t run from me Y/N…” he growled when you arched from a powerful thrust he sent your way, sending your body jerking out of his hold. He was feral and his avian side was acting up at the fact that his mate was lying for a serious matter. “What’s the matter, can’t talk like earlier and tell me I’m fucking you right?!”

Your eyes rolled at the same time your head dropped into the mattress to hide your whimpers, but he wasn’t having any of that. His right hand reached out to snatch your hair and yank your head upwards so he could hear your cries. “Is this what you wanted?” you could hear the faint traces of his avian side slipping into the mix. If it did, you were in trouble. Eӧnwё’s avian side never took these things for granted, and you were sure from the rate his thrusts were developing, it was there. Pressing his body against yours, his left hand wedged itself between your legs to rub your clit, pinching the little nub and laughing at your pleas. “I’m feeling to deny you right now, but I want to fuck you senseless at the same time for using me. I bet you would love that, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t cum tonight while I get my fill.” Seems like his avian side was surely there and you weren’t getting any sleep.

༻¨*:·Tilion

He’s angry at himself for not being able to realise that he wasn’t pleasuring you right to the point you had to fake it, but…he isn’t entirely your himbo who’s going to cry in a corner about it. Tilion will take matters into his hand and make you remember to never pull that stunt again.

Looking up at his face when you decided to open your eyes after pretending to suffer the effects of an orgasm, Tilion’s eyes were sharp and narrowed. “You really think that after all these years of fucking this cunt, I won’t know what it feels like?” A hand had snaked its way up your body to wrap around your throat and apply pressure while the other came down to slap the inner of your thigh. His hips ceased their thrusting, and his cock stilled its movement in your cunt, though he could feel the desperation of your walls fighting to clamp around him. The little flexing of your muscles to retain what little pleasure you could find to satisfy your cunt caused him to look down and tauntingly laugh. “You want my cock so badly after your little stunt? Brats like you don’t deserve my cock or to cum.”

Flashing a look of apology and whining, you pleaded with him to have mercy and cried even moving when he slipped out. In a flash, you were on your knees with your ass high in the air and a loud smack echoed. You could barely comprehend the next round of actions since everything happened so quickly. The feeling of his weight pressing on top of you, immobilising you while driving his cock into your deeper was euphoric, but he found it better to deny you your orgasms. Refusing to rub your clit, and using your body to get himself off, he wanted to teach you a lesson. “Til-…Tilion please, let me c-cum!” He enjoyed listening to the sounds of your begging, the desperation in your cries, but he wasn’t giving in so easily. “Are you sure about that? You didn’t want to earlier. Be a good little girl and take what I give you.”

༻¨*:·Mairon

He’s gonna do the same thing as Námo and Irmo. You are really in for it and was simply setting yourself up for torture. You’re not going to be getting released because he’s evil like that.

You couldn’t say or do anything as you found yourself tied up and dangling from the chandelier in your shared chambers. Not too high off the ground, but just low enough for your toes to touch and fight to grip the carpet. The flaming red-headed Maia stood before you no longer naked but dressed in simple trousers and robes leaving him shirtless for you to marvel at his lithe physique. There was an increase in the room's temperature, more heated than anything leaving a sheen of sweat to coat your skin which Mairon took advantage of. Ice. He ran the light cube over your erogenous zones, close enough to gain whiny, high-pitched squeals and pleas from you. “Why should I stop? I’ve been wanting to experiment for a long time—I’ve found the perfect moment to practice. Don’t interrupt me!” he warned.

Clearly not pleased with your stunt earlier. Your orgasms were an art form he described to be perfection to the highest degree. Something that took care and time…and then you faked one before the eyes of a perfectionist. Nothing ever went without punishment, and what better way to punish you than to give you what you were demanding. “Don’t cry, you asked for this. If you had only been a good little doll for me, I would have spoiled you tonight… Now don’t squirm, I want to see how long you can take being denied before you learn your place.” His hands were chilled from gripping the ice and now running over the expanse of your skin, tickling, rubbing and touching everywhere far too light to relieve the ache. “Are you going to be good and let me have me way after your little stunt? Of course, you are, it’s the only way to cum.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @cilil @edensrose

161 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

A Lord’s Proposition

Prompts “bite me” ”if you insist” and “each of my thoughts about you are improper”

Pairing: Melkor x Fem. Reader (Elf / Finwë’s daughter with Miriel and Fëanor’s twin| second person POV)

Themes: Slowburn | Smut (lemon-ish) | Soft

Wordcount: 4.9K words

Summary: Melkor had kidnapped you and kept you confined to a tower while he travelled to Utumno. He has now returned, and asks for you.

Rating: 🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+

For rules and tag form, read here.

To the person who requested this, I hope you like it.

You looked out a barred window, your heart aggrieved by the sight that befell your eyes.

There was no starlight here. None could be found in Angband. The sky was murky black from the thick smog of smoke from the keep’s many furnaces. The air was damp and cold and foul. The scent of ash and smoke and worse crept in through the windows and clung to your garments. Some days, the smell was so strong that it made your eyes water and bile rise at the back of your throat. You had no choice but to bear it all in silence. You were a prisoner, utterly dependent on the favor of the one who held you captive.

Still, you supposed, it was a better fate than most. You turned your attention from the sky and peered into the gloomy courtyard. Thralls scurried to and fro like mice desperately trying to escape the talons of an eagle. They were like wraiths, mere shadows of the fair and glorious beings they once were. That was how your captor liked to see them: fearful, half-starved, and brought down to the lowest point of their existence.

Not just them, you realized with great dread. I am one of them. The daughter of a race he loathes with a murderous passion, so the poets and singers say. How long will it be before I am made to sip from the cup that was forced onto them?

Your skin prickled out of fear. You closed the shutters of your window and sharply turned away as soon as a wretched scream carried through the courtyard. You did not want to dwell on that sound or from whom it came. There was no need to feed your nightmares with fresh fodder.

You studied your chambers like you always did, ever since your capture. The walls and floors were bare black stone, the pelts were thick, and the rushes were new. Besides the old hearth, there was a basket filled with blocks of peat instead of wood for a fire. The bed was small but comfortable. You reflected on the remnants of your last meal. The bread and roasted meat had been fresh, the water was clean and cool.

Mine may be a wretched lot, but it is still better than theirs, you reminded yourself. Much better than theirs.

Someone knocked on the door. It was loud and insistent. You made haste to answer it, your shoes clicking over the floor. You expected to find a thrall and came face-to-face with her instead.

Thuringwethil, they called her. Woman of the secret shadow. Herald for the Dark Lord. The first vampire. Her eyes gleamed like new rubies. Her wings dragged behind her whenever she walked. A gown was draped over one arm.

"My lady." You quickly dipped to your knees even as the words stumbled out of your mouth. Anything to not anger her.

A gale of laughter greeted you. It was shrill and painful to the ears, like nails over brittle glass. You had to stop yourself from physically wincing.

"You certainly have good manners, little elf," Thuringwethil replied, and looked over you critically. "That will serve you well with him, I think."

"With him, my lady?" You sputtered in disbelief. "Which him?"

Your mind was a roil. There was more than one him here in Angband, and each one was as mercurial as the next. Was Thuringwethil speaking of Mairon, Melkor’s most favored advisor? Or was she speaking of that Balrog high general? The one who could change from a creature of great beauty to one that inspired nothing but sheer terror? Or was it the Maia who found great joy in changing into a giant cat and tormenting everyone who crossed his path?

"Him," she said, and moved around you in an elegant flourish. Her wings trailed behind her over the floor, all black and deep crimson. You took a deep breath and sighed wistfully. The very air around her smelled like a meadow in full bloom. It did not surprise you. Thuringwethil used to be Yavanna’s Maia after all. "Lord Melkor, no less. He has returned from Utumno and wishes to dine with you."

You gave her a measured look. You were a prisoner, captured and carried off after a daring raid in the heart of Valinor itself. And now you have been invited to dine with your captor, the Lord of Angband, no less. The prospect frightened you.

"I… I hope I will not offend Lord Melkor," you blurted out, and hoped this invitation was not a ruse to heap unspeakable agony upon you.

"I see you truly are nothing like that heedless, foul-tempered brother of yours," Thuringwethil observed, not unkindly. "And I promise, he will not be offended by anything you do."

She did not give you time to think or frame a reply. She went on to add, "Thralls will see to your bath now. An orc will come to fetch you once you have finished."

You shivered and nodded in fright. Thuringwethil took her leave of you, practically floating out of your chambers in a swirl of wings and lace and night-blooming roses. You walked over to your bed and ran the flat of your palm over your new dress. It was soft to the touch and dripping in gems, and finer than any gown you possessed before.

So lavish, you mused. What does he want from me?

There was another knock on your door. This time it was hesitant and timid. "Come in, please," you said, and moved away from the bed.

Thralls walked in carrying pails of clean, warm water. Another pair brought with them a small copper tub and a towel. A thrall filled the tub with water before adding fragrant oils. Another helped you out of your robes, her eyes downcast. Her fingers fumbled with the sash; it was as if they had all turned into thumbs. You wanted to talk to her, to ask how she came to be here. All you did, in the end, was bite your tongue.

I must take care of what I say to them. It may cause more trouble for them if I do.

The sweet-smelling water was a welcome relief from the smells of the outside world. The thralls sluiced water over your hair before gently brushing out any tangles. One of them went to work on your nails and feet. It felt strange, to have them wait on you in such a manner. It was stranger still, given the cause for such pampering.

She said nothing I do could offend him. I am certain now that he must want something from me. What is it?

You had seen Melkor before. He had come calling on your brother; his words like honey. You were by an upstairs window, looking down on the gardens where they stood. Fëanor had been furious with the Vala’s intrusion. He grew even more enraged when the Vala glanced up and caught you looking, his lips curling up at the corners. Their exchange grew heated. Fëanor sent Melkor away, but not before Melkor managed to steal a second glimpse of you. That was all you saw of him until after your capture, when you were presented to him like a prize, your arms and feet bound in iron, your clothes reduced to rags. He said nothing. All he did was sit on his lofty throne and look down on you, his eyes roaming over you in a way that made a flush creep up your throat.

You never saw him after that. Melkor kept you confined to the tower you now lived in. No one was allowed to see you save for the thralls that had to tend to you and Thuringwethil. The other Maia were allowed nowhere near you. Even the orcs were allowed nowhere near you, until now.

It is as if he does not trust the others with me.

A thrall held out their arm, to help you out of the tub. You stood still while they toweled you dry, your cheeks ablaze when they first helped you into the wisps Thuringwethil brought with her. The garments were so soft, you did not even notice them. Next came the dress, an airy confection of lace and silk that clung to your body. Then came a pair of soft slippers and finally a perfume, one that was dabbed on each of your wrists and behind your ears. The thralls wanted to style your hair, but you declined, insisting on wearing it loose.

"The master calls," insisted the orc that came to escort you to Melkor’s private chambers deep within Angband. "Come."

You followed him silently, walking through lofty corridors and vast halls, each as empty and dimly lit as the next. Your footsteps echoed all around you even as you sunk deep into your thoughts. Melkor had insisted you be brought to him alive. He had kept you in a tower, apart from the thralls and other prisoners. He had provided you with decent food and drink, even new garments. No one was allowed to harm a hair on your head. And the way he looked at you when you were presented to him, his eyes dark with hunger. The memory alone was enough to give you pause.

You shook your head. No. It could not be. Melkor desired nothing but the complete dominion of Arda. He treasured nothing but power and causing pain. That was what the songs said. That was what your father and brother said. And yet…

And yet…

He kept me safe. Made certain my needs were seen to. Did nothing to cause me harm. Were they all wrong?

The orc stopped by large wooden doors, each more than twice your height. "Let her in," he snapped at the guards. They obeyed and opened the doors for you. "Get in," he mumbled almost in politeness.

You meekly stepped over the threshold and made your way into a chamber as large as the halls you had passed. There was a soft thud. That was the sound of the doors closing behind you. You were truly trapped now.

The room you were in was nearly as silent as a tomb. And poorly lit. There were no lamps, or torches. Just a dim fire sputtering away in the hearth.

"Come closer, little elf," a deep voice called from behind you.

You gulped in fright but turned in the direction of that voice.

"Closer," it called. "Come closer."

One measured footstep followed another. You walked on hesitantly, not stopping until you reached a smaller chamber filled with the light of several candles. There was a large bed in one corner, and a small table at the far end. This room, too, was empty. You were confused now. Where did that voice come from?

"Does this please you?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the voice behind you. You turned on your heel and found yourself looking at your captor. Melkor was studying you with a quizzical gleam in his eye. "My lord," you murmured, and gracefully dipped to your knees, remembering your courtesies.

He laughed merrily. "Thuringwethil was right. You do have nice manners."

You looked at him, shocked. She spoke to him about me. Why would she do that?

Melkor smirked and looked at you approvingly before walking over to the table. He pulled out a chair and gestured for you to join him. It confused you even more. The table was devoid of food and drink.

"The food…" you breathed out and struggled for words. Melkor was as glorious as the day you first saw him. The image of him standing there and watching you was enough to muddle your mind. "There… there is no food, my lord."

"There will be food," he replied, "for later. For now, sit."

You obeyed and made your way to the table, your skin prickling the entire time. You glanced at Melkor and found his eyes following your every move. There was something dark and primal in his eyes, something you could not quite describe.

"I will not mince words,” he said. “The reason why I summoned you," Melkor waited till you made yourself comfortable before moving to the chair opposite yours. "Is because I have a… proposition to make."

"Proposition?" You repeated, baffled. Melkor was one of the most high. There was no need for him to ask anything of anyone when he could simply take whatever, and whomever he desired, without so much as a "by your leave."

“Yes." Melkor studied you before saying, "A proposition. I wish to make you my companion. I made this offer to your brother. I was hoping he would put a word in where your father was concerned…"

The day he called on your twin. He had asked for you. You kept asking why and Fëanor refused to explain the cause. He grew angry whenever you asked. Your father finally forbade you from broaching the topic.

"But the fool refused," Melkor snorted in derision. "Now that I have you here with me, I would like to ask this of you myself. Will you be my companion and bind yourself to me?"

You swallowed and wrung your hands. His companion, he said. You did not even know what it would mean. What little you knew of intimate relations between elves came from the books you read while the others were away. "Your companion, my lord. What would I have to do? Read to you? Play the harp?"

Melkor laughed again, softly this time. "Your family has kept you ignorant of many things, I see. I do not wish you to merely read to me and amuse me with music, little elf. To put it in simpler terms, I want you to share my bed."

Your cheeks were aflame. To share his bed. You had read enough books to know what that meant. "To share pleasures with you…" you sputtered, "but if I go back, if the other elves find out what I allowed you to do to me, I will be ruined."

"The other elves will not find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because your brother is not coming for you," Melkor said simply.

"He is coming for me!" you insisted. Your eyes stung with hot tears threatening to break free. Melkor was the prince of lies. That was what they all said. You refused to believe him, thinking he was lying to you even now. "Fëanor is coming for me!"

"He is not, little elf," Melkor replied gently. "Fëanor is not coming for you. His hunger to create the silmarils has consumed him."

Despair of the acutest kind settled over you like a thick fog. The creation of hallowed jewels, each containing the light of the two trees, was all your twin talked about. He would think of nothing else until such priceless treasures rested in his hands. You knew him well enough for that.

"And your father’s thoughts have been consumed with the new family he is creating with his second wife. No one is coming for you." Melkor reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Say yes, little elf. Take my hand, and every comfort imaginable will be yours. I will be yours."

You sat there, feeling alone and wretched. Your brother was not coming for you. Your father was not coming for you. Days had bled into weeks and weeks into a wholly different season, and no one had come for you. There had not even been a whiff of an elf seeking you out. Your kin had abandoned you to your fate, and the knowledge of it was too much to bear. It made you want to cry, to scream and tear out your hair, but such acts were useless. They would not set you free, and they would not make your kin search for you. You turned your attention to Melkor. He offered a life you were once accustomed to. Perhaps he was not lying. Perhaps he was telling the truth. But still, to say yes to him and take him inside of you…

"The others… your servants…" you whispered, "What will they say?"

"Nothing." Melkor smiled and spread his broad hands. "Life in Angband is different. You can be with whomever you wish, whenever you wish, and however you wish. No one will say a word in protest."

"No one?" You glanced at him, trying to get a sense of him. "Not even you?"

Melkor ground his jaw and growled. His eyes narrowed to thin slats. "You are mine, little elf. All of you belong to me."

Goosebumps rose all over your flesh when he said it. The sheer possessiveness in his tone was enough to make you forget your sense of dread and excite you to the point of actually considering his offer.

"Before I say yes," you licked your lips nervously and confessed, "I… I must tell you I have neither the… skill nor the… experience… in such matters. What little I know has come from books."

Melkor’s lips tugged at the corners. "I thought as much. But first, you must say yes."

To say yes. To take his hand and bind yourself to him for all time. You thought of your suitors, how all of them bowed their heads and walked away without a second glance the moment Fëanor denied them. Then there was Melkor, who willingly risked war and doom to bring you here. You knew what your answer would be.

"Yes."

"Come."

He rose and took you by hand, helping you out of your chair and leading you straight to his bed. You eyed the silk sheets and the soft pillows. To just lay in that bed was temptation enough. Melkor did not give you time to think of much else. He grabbed your arms and kissed you before you could say another word.

The books spoke of kisses that were sweet and soft, like feathers. Melkor’s kiss was none of that. It was all heat and wildness and hunger. His tongue glided over the seams of your mouth before pressing against your lips. You sighed helplessly and parted them for him. His mouth tasted like some dark spice you could not get enough of. Melkor smirked in triumph, his breath heating your flesh.

"How easily you yield, little elf!" he cried when you tugged on his tunic to pull him closer. "And how fortunate I am to have you in my grasp!" He laughed again and placed his hands over your shoulders, pushing you down onto the edge of the bed. "Tell me," he cooed softly, "What else did you read in these books?"

You looked at him, your eyes widening when he undid the buckle of his belt. "I…" You glanced at him, then at what he was doing. He was loosening the drawstrings of his breeches. "I have read about certain acts, but…" Your cheeks heated when he tugged it down just enough to free his cock. "But…"

"It was not enough?" Melkor asked and caressed your cheek. "Then I will guide you. Open that pretty mouth for me, little elf."

He waited, neither forcing nor demanding that you obey. A thumb glided over your lips, making you look at him. "Open little elf," he insisted gently, "Go on."

The sight of him all exposed and hard proved too tempting. You opened your mouth, eager and willing and curious, struggling to breathe while he sank his length. Melkor moved slowly and gently, his hands delving into your hair and keeping you steady. He groaned and shivered when you ran your tongue along his shaft and let curious hands skim over his thighs. His hand glided over to cup your cheek. You opened your eyes and found his fixed on yours; his mouth parted in a silent moan.

"I have been thinking about you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, little elf," he confided, whimpering when your tongue brushed over his tip. "Each of my thoughts about you have been improper."

Melkor was gentle with his instructions. "Loosen your jaw, little elf." He caressed your cheek again to catch your attention. "You clench it too much."

It was easier after that. You reached up and clutched the edges of his tunic, your mind going hazy with bliss. Everything you felt, from the hands brushing over your hair to the little ridges brushing against your lips to the soft grunts you heard, was dark and sinful. You had often wondered what such acts would be like while reading books forbidden to you, but no words could describe what you were feeling now, all feverish and wanton.

Melkor drew back and pushed you onto the sheets. You gazed at him, surprised, and more than a little disappointed. "Move further up, little elf," he chuckled, running his thumb over your swollen lips. "I want to claim you as mine."

Again, you did as he asked, even more eager this time. You moved further up the bed, trembling whenever you felt the wetness between your thighs. Melkor undid the clasps of his tunic one by one. You expected to find vast parts of him withered and deformed, as the songs said. What was slowly revealed instead was the stuff of a maiden’s dreams: a fana that was all supple muscle and devoid of flaw. His skin was the color of new steel, and his arms were large and strong.

Not once did he use that strength to force me, you mused, flushing when the mattress sank and he crawled into bed with you, boots on and all. Melkor pushed your thighs apart with his. His hands slid under your skirts.

"I…" You found yourself trembling with growing need when the flat of his palm glided over your leg. "I thought we must be undressed, my lord."

"Next time," Melkor promised. He hiked your skirts up to your waist and shoved his hand down your undergarments, ripping them apart with one tug. "For now, let me do this."

His fingers grazed your slick heat. The friction was delicious enough to make you see stars. Melkor trembled. He actually trembled. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful in its exploration. He propped himself on his free arm, just so he could watch you while he slipped a finger inside of you. It made your breath hitch when that finger slid deeper and deeper.

"My lord," you moaned without even realizing it. He dipped his head and ghosted his lips over yours.

"I am here, little elf," he purred softly, brushing his hand over your hair. He dipped his head again, nibbling your earlobe and sighing when your arms circled his back.

He had been thinking of me since he first saw me, you remembered. When was that?

"M-my lord?" Your back began to arch with each thrust of his finger. He inserted a second as carefully as the first, groaning whenever your warmth clenched around them. "W-when did you first see me?"

"When I was allowed to return to Valinor," he confessed softly against your neck. "I saw you with your father and brother near the Ring of Doom. I stayed in the shadows and watched you. Even then, I knew I had to make you mine."

The Ring of Doom. When your father was called to hear the Valar’s verdict on his appeal to remarry. That was a full century before Melkor approached your brother for you.

A hundred years was but the blink of an eye for an elf. Lesser still for a being such as him. But still...A hundred years. He had been seeking me out over a hundred years. Your hands brushed over his hair while he nibbled at your earlobe. The thought of him marking you with his teeth was enough to make your pulse scramble. You grew a little bolder.

“M-my lord?" You mumbled shyly. "W-would you c-consider marking me?"

“Bite you, little elf?"

"Y-yes. B-bite me."

Melkor raised his head, his dark eyes darkening even more. You heard a low and otherworldly growl. The sound inflamed you. "If you insist," he said, leaning in and running his tongue over the hollow of your throat. "Turn your head to the side, little elf."

He peppered the soft expanse of your throat with kisses that were bruising and almost violent. Every time his teeth grazed the curve of your neck, your nails would dig into his back. "Melkor," you sighed again. "There. Right there. Oh."

"Now everyone who sees you will know you are mine." He lifted his head and admired the canvas he had made out of your body. When he drew his fingers away, it made you feel strangely empty. "Rest your legs over my hips, little elf." Melkor hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. "And do not tense. Can you manage this?"

He wanted to claim your maidenhead. You looked up at him, trying to decide what to do. If he did, if you said yes to this, you could never go back. The other acts you could hide in lies, but not this. Never this. No elf would stay married to you once the truth came to light. Your family would never welcome you back. Your father would not wish to ruin the prospects for any child born to his second wife, and your brother… you shivered. You did not want to even think of what Fëanor would do to you.

Why am I fretting over what others will say, when those others have already turned their backs on me?

Melkor’s knuckles drifted over your throat. He may never ask for you again. He could send you away and carry on like nothing happened. It would would you deeply if he did. But the memories would feel so sweet.

You made up your mind. You moved your legs over his hips, the insides of your thighs rubbing up against the supple leather of his breeches. It felt strange but wonderful. "I am ready," you whispered.

“I will be gentle," Melkor promised, trembling again. His kiss was soft and so very warm. He kissed you until you were breathless, kissed you until you moaned, and your hold around him tightened. He guided his shaft inch by slow inch into your slit, stopping whenever you whimpered to give you time to breathe. His hand glided over your thigh, your belly, his words a sweet melody in a tongue you had never heard of in your life. It put your entire body at ease. He would move again, now slowly, now gently, filling you in ways you never thought possible. He stopped again, this time after claiming your maidenhood. He looked at you with questioning eyes, as if asking for permission.

"Yes," you assured him, sighing when he moaned and started to move.

He was so big, and it felt uncomfortable. And he was gentle, just like he promised. Pain and discomfort slowly gave away to a pleasure that had no name. Every time he moved, every time he found a place that sent jolts of deep ecstasy licking up your spine, you clung to him, moaning his name shamelessly. Melkor’s lips crushed yours in an all-consuming kiss. At your own urging, he went a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster, growling when his hips slapped against the insides of your thighs. It was too much. And not enough. And intoxicating all at the same time. Melkor knelt up and dragged you with him.

"Kiss me," he demanded, "and make it count."

His fingers dug into the back of your dress, his nails ripping into the fabric the moment your mouth opened over his. His tongue tasted like wine when it pressed against yours, and his hair felt like silk when it slipped around your fingers. A tension that was sweet and drugging grew in your belly.

"So-something is ha-happening," you mewled, not knowing what it meant. "I... d-do not understand…"

You may not have known, but Melkor did. "Soon, little elf," he whispered, latching onto the curve of your neck. A mixture of kisses and nips of the teeth skimmed over your throat. "A little more. Just a little more."

That soon came faster than you could have thought. Your muscles coiled and tightened, and snapped, like your body was splintering into a million different pieces. You could not think. You could even breathe. You were lost in a sea of untold rapture. You barely felt it, Melkor’s hold on you tightening even as your nails raked over his skin. You barely heard it—a deep grunt of satisfaction when he thrust one last time, and a torrent of his spend filled you.

The world had gone still, so very still. Your thoughts were still muddled when Melkor laid you on your back. You were silent while clarity slowly crept in.

Melkor had claimed all you willingly gave, and so much more. He made you experience joys you had never experienced before. And now you braced yourself, your heart gripped in agony, thinking he might prove the tales told about him true and send you away, never to seek you out after that. The books did not prepare you for the pain of his rejection. You prepared yourself anyway, your body still shaking when the featherbed sank again under his weight. Melkor threw an arm over your waist and drew you to him. Both arms encircled you now, even as he buried his face in your hair.

"I will have your possessions moved to my chambers. Rest for now, little elf." He mumbled and pressed a chaste kiss over your shoulder. "When you wake up, I will bathe you, and we will dine together. Perhaps you could even read to me."

tags: @lemonivall @cilil @edensrose @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese

#Melkor #Melkor smut #Melkor x reader #Morgoth #morgoth smut #The silm #The silm imagine #the silmarilion #melkor imagine #morgoth imagine #x reader #Reader insert #reader insert request #writeblr #fanfiction #The valar #The ainur #💫a world of whimsy writes

134 notes · View notes

autumnshighlady · 4 months

Text

IMPORTANT QUESTION!

are you guys comfortable with dark fics?

i’d love to write some dark!azriel x reader as well as some even darker sauron and melkor x reader but i’m not sure how well it would be received. now don’t get me wrong i will not be writing g0re, r4pe (altho consent could be quite dubious with sauron and melkor for obvious reasons), forced pregnancy, or anything extreme. i am a survivor of SA so will ensure things are as least triggering as possible

but i really enjoyed writing dark!azriel in the “carving their name into you” prompt and would like to do more.

please reply or send in an ask with your thoughts on this :)

#azriel smut #azriel x reader smut #azriel x reader #dark!azriel #dark!azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #sauron x reader #sauron #melkor #melkor x reader

51 notes · View notes

ainur-interactions · 2 years

Note

*Eyes melkor and Mairon*

"Well, you two fucked my moral compass so might aswell fuck me too. At this point itd be rude not too"

a smirk finds its way to the dark lord's lips as he takes your chin between his fingers and raises your head. “is that so? are you certain that you aren't biting off more than you can chew, dollface?”

it is then that you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind and warm lips against your neck. “I believe they are, my lord.” croons mairon against your ear.

#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ mairon ─ ♡.#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ melkor ─ ♡.#mairon #mairon x reader #sauron #sauron x reader #melkor #melkor x reader #morgoth #morgoth x reader #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #ainur #valar #maiar #smut #minors dni #interactions

205 notes · View notes

dirty-ainur-confessions · 1 year

Note

Nobody can convince me that Melkor didnt have a daddy or breeding kink. Man's entire thought process for a while was "create things of his own". He is Kinky capital K

melkor with a breeding kink sounds about right. imagine how he forces you down, hips pistoning against yours as you splutter into the air. all whilst he tells you how pretty you'll look stuffed full with his seed. how gorgeous you are when you're dripping with him.

“I'm sure you'd love that, huh? to be bred by the dark lord?” oh, the possibilities are endless. but his favourite position has got to be shoving your face into the sheets and fucking you until your thighs and ass are black and blue.

#·⊰ ꒰🌹꒱ 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭 ៸៸ melkor ─ ♡.#melkor #melkor x reader #morgoth #morgoth x reader #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #smut #minors dni #ainur #valar #confessions

108 notes · View notes

edensrose · 2 years

Text

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ tolkien characters ⠀〳 ⠀reader ❜᭡ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

·⊰ 𝓼𝓶𝓾𝓽 : their preferences in bed ( minors dni ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ italics = applies to them )

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTHRANDUIL

fingering ៸៸ cunnilingus ៸៸ edging ៸៸ overstimulation ៸៸ biting/marking ៸៸ orgasm control ៸៸ degradation ៸៸ praise ៸៸ creampie ៸៸ erotic humiliation ៸៸ breath play ៸៸ choking ៸៸ impact play ៸៸ somnophilia ៸៸ bondage ៸៸ temperature play ៸៸ dacryphilia ៸៸ mirror play ៸៸ guided masturbation ៸៸ cockwarming ៸៸ toys ៸៸ agoraphilia ៸៸ thigh riding ៸៸ face sitting ៸៸ dry rutting ៸៸ teasing ៸៸ sensory deprivation ៸៸ muffling ៸៸ power play ៸៸ hair pulling

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLEGOLAS

fingering ៸៸ cunnilingus ៸៸ edging ៸៸ overstimulation ៸៸ biting/marking ៸៸ orgasm control ៸៸ degradation ៸៸ praise ៸៸ creampie ៸៸ erotic humiliation ៸៸ breath play ៸៸ choking ៸៸ impact play ៸៸ somnophilia ៸៸ bondage ៸៸ temperature play ៸៸ dacryphilia ៸៸ mirror play ៸៸ guided masturbation ៸៸ cockwarming ៸៸ toys ៸៸ agoraphilia ៸៸៸៸ thigh riding ៸៸ face sitting ៸៸ dry rutting ៸៸ teasing ៸៸ sensory deprivation ៸៸ muffling ៸៸ power play ៸៸ hair pulling

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ MAIRON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ MELKOR

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMANWË

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤIRMO

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ NÁMO

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ FËANOR

taglist — @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @m-shade @nerdydcfan @flowerchildishere @camilomyshiningsun @bugnug @algae-rave @snakesofindia-sursesaji @theroguemaia @heraluthor @the-girl-king @yellowbadgermole @aeonianarchives

#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ tolkien ❜‧₊#thranduil x reader #legolas x reader #mairon x reader #melkor x reader #manwe x reader #irmo x reader #namo x reader #feanor x reader #smut #smut tw #minors dni #the silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #imagines #writing

315 notes · View notes

doodle-pops · 1 year

Note

Can I ask for NSFW Ainur's reaction to an S/O sitting on their face? *blushes*

a/n: I loved this more than I should *squeals*

Enjoys every second of it and refused to let you remove an inch off their face. You can ride their face as much as it pleases you but do not ever complain about choking or crushing them with your weight or thighs. Air does not exist to them. What that? Never heard of it, don't introduce them to it. All they want is to be between your legs and probably would not mind if they died like that. Best way to go. "Darling, just sit on my face. . .please. I can take it, I want--- I need you to, please. Just for me." Squeeze their head with your thighs and cut off their air supply and they would still thank you. Fingers digging into your flesh and squeezing it as they go to town.

TULKAS, OROME, TILION, IRMO, Manwe, EONWE, Osse

Oh, they are cruel. Wicked tongues from mean men who make you beg and then have you passing out. "Well, you chose to sit on my face, so I chose to show you a trick. I know you loved it. . .you were screaming my name." Smug bastards. Play games with them and they will always win. Making the choice of sitting on their faces means being in the palm of their hands. You are not in control and will never be, it's them from the start. Their enormous hands gripping your thighs and having you grind against their tongue despite your sensitivity. Forget about being shy because they're going to shock it out of you while giving you a hazy look, Don't act like you don't want more.

NAMO, MAIRON, MELKOR

#reactions #silm smut #tulkas x reader #orome x reader #tilion x reader #irmo x reader #manwe x reader #eonwe x reader #osse x reader #namo x reader #mairon x reader #melkor x reader #doodlepops responds

88 notes · View notes

a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 7 months

Note

Hi M! Kindly requesting threesome Melkor x AFAB!reader x Mairon for kinktober please! If you’re comfortable with this :) thank you!

Ask and you shall recieve!

“Another bedmate”

Pairing: Melkor x Mairon x Fem. reader (Maia/second person POV) | Location: Angband

Themes: Smut (Lemon/Graphic)

Word count: 1.1K words

Summary: You join Melkor and Mairon in bed after the latter invites you to join them.

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume

Melkor was never one to share, not when it came to many things. But for this one request, made by his most favored, no less, he was willing to make an exception.

"I am glad I listened to your entreaties," he declares, smug and satisfied. "What joys would I have missed if I had said no?"

"Many and more, my lord," Mairon replies. His molten gold eyes flutter and close even as a deep moan rolls off his lips. "And how fortunate are we to find another bedmate so willing to indulge us?

"Indeed, precious." Melkor rises to his knees and makes his way over the rumpled silk sheets. He slips his arms around your waist, helping you stay steady. His hands glide up your waist. They’re hot, then cold, then hot again, but not uncomfortably so. It made you quiver. Melkor leans and whispers, "He feels good; does he not?"

Mairon was not the only one who felt good. It was wonderful to be near Melkor as well.

“Yes, my lord.” Your hands moved to rest over his when his fingers found your nipples. You made a whimpering sound when soft peaks stiffened with each brush of the thumb. He…oh my stars… he most certainly is."

"No talking stars here," Melkor insists. There was steel and menace in his voice. “We do not speak of their wretched creations in Angband."

Melkor was angry. He never took kindly to any reminder of the other Valar, Varda most of all. You shudder and say, "Of course, my lord. My pardons for the slip of the tongue."

Melkor pinched, and pinched harder, delighting in your keening whine. "Very good."

You gasp and close your eyes. Melkor’s touch was a delightful torment, all heat and fervor, and yes, even control. The lord of Angband insisted on being in control from the moment he agreed to the arrangement. You did not mind. After spending more hours than you care to count presiding over others and issuing orders, having someone else take command was a true relief.

Mairon craved to move. He had been still for far too long. "May I?" he entreated.

Melkor nodded and dipped his head. "Yes," he agreed. "I want to see how well sweet y/n takes you."

The Vala nips at your neck before grasping the underside of your jaw, tilting your head towards him. His skin smelled of embers and ice, of blazing furnaces and new frost. It was strange and yet, incredibly intoxicating, filling your senses to the brim. His lips opened over yours. Your moan poured into his mouth. Melkor trembled, then deepened his kiss, his lips plump and warm.

Mairon is enraptured by what he is witnessing: Melkor kissing you with raw and unbridled lust, your hands pressing over his, urging him to touch you harder. Then Mairon bucked his hips. You cried out. It allowed Melkor to slip his sweet tongue into your mouth. You could not get enough of it. Melkor had put it to good use when he fucked you first, and the orgasm that followed was unlike anything you had experienced before.

It was not something you expected of him. Melkor was always stern and cold and so very cruel. Only Mairon was blessed to receive any token of his affection. You did not expect him to favor you as well with his attention, and you certainly did not expect Mairon to invite you to share their bed. It was not an offer that was made lightly. Mairon would never have asked if he thought you unsuited for him and Melkor, and it honored you that Melkor would even consider allowing another bedmate to join them.

"Go on, precious," Melkor commands softly before pulling away. "Have your way with y/n while I watch."

Mairon held onto your hips when they rocked in time with his thrusts. You threw your head back, crying out whenever he drove his cock into you, again, and again, and again. You clutched his arms when he set a deep and unrelenting pace, and the soft, wet sound of you taking him inside of you soon filled your ears.

Melkor watched and listened, and found himself hardening to the point that it nearly hurt. He had enough in him for another turn, he mused, and he wondered if you would agree to him and Mairon bedding you at the same time. Perhaps after you have had enough time to rest and regain your strength.

Your nails digging little indents into Mairon’s arms undid him. He rose to his knees and threw his arms around you to pull you closer. His kisses were softer than Melkor’s, and tender, but there was hunger to be found, and greed. He chased his release, grunting into your shoulder when your hands delved into his hair.

Melkor rose to his knees as well, moving beside you and leaning over your shoulder. Mairon slowed just long enough to return his lord’s kiss, his eyes burning when they locked on yours. You flashed a wicked grin and found yourself rewarded with another that mirrored yours.

"When you are finished with him," Melkor’s words were like honey when he purred against your ear. "You will take the both of us together."

His suggestion alone was enough to fill you with wild and wanton thoughts. "I accept," you answer quickly, your breath now shallow gasps. You felt something—a quickening just beneath your skin. It was potent and dizzying. "Gladly."

"Your fana will be a canvas once we are done with you," Melkor promised before drawing away again.

You were soaring, rising higher and higher with every moment. That quickening spread and strengthened, binding you within its steely grip. With one last, glorious thrust, it released you, leaving you to fall and shatter against the rocks. You clung to Mairon desperately, arching your back, crying out, losing yourself to a state of utter ecstasy while he spent his seed inside you. Mairon stopped, his chest still heaving.

Time drifted slowly. You became aware of your breathing, the warmth of a hand brushing over your hair, and someone urging you to open your eyes. Mairon drew back, and laid you in bed. He took his place beside you, his arm slung over your belly. Melkor joined not long after. He cupped your cheek and kissed you, half-whispering words of endearment and praise.

You had done well, he said. You were now free to use their dim but elegant chambers—the bed you now rested in. His words were soft, a far cry from the clipped, icy commands you were accustomed to hearing. Mairon agreed.

“Stay with us,” he urged.

Silence followed. You considered their offer, the rewards, and the implications.

As long as I am faithful, and serve them well, I will never have to fear the cost of being bound to them.

“I agree,” you reply.

They were pleased. “Good,” Melkor said. “Now rest a while. We can know more about you after.”

Tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese

#melkor #melkor smut #melkor imagine #mairon #mairon smut #mairon imagine #melkor x mairon x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request #the silm #the silm smut #the silm imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023

36 notes · View notes