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cilil · 11 months

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𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝒾𝓇𝓈

Characters: Manwë, Varda, Oromë, Námo and Irmo; reader's gender is unspecified - all up to your imagination~

Featuring: Dom/sub dynamics/undertones, predator/prey kink, soul sex

Warnings: Possessive themes, bit of rough foreplay and sex, smut/suggestive

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who voted on my recent polls. I'll be trying out a bit of a new format, combining headcanons with small scenes/imagines, with this one and hope you'll find it enjoyable. If there are other characters you'd like to see for this, feel free to suggest and keep an eye out for future polls!♡

Manwë

ଘ The Elder King is a romantic lover and enjoys courting you, though even during these early stages he finds ways to subtly claim you for himself: He showers you with gifts like jewellery with sapphires (his signature gemstone), robes in his colours, objects decorated with feathers or bird-shaped items and writes poetry for you which he recites and sings for you both in private and in public.

ଘ Once Manwë has successfully conquered your heart, he makes sure to publicly display his affection for you by making you sit on his lap, kissing you and wrapping his wings around you at every opportunity.

ଘ In the bedroom, little remains of Manwë's calm, serene demeanour. He loves marking your body with his talons, covering you in love bites and engaging in breath play to make you feel just how much you need his element - need him.

ଘ Manwë has a breeding kink that gets particularly strong when he's in heat or nearing it and loves filling you up to make sure that his essence remains inside you as long as possible and his scent stays on you, deterring any other suitors from approaching you.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

Your lips part to release a soft gasp when Manwë pulls you closer and presses open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck, biting and sucking gently to leave blossoming marks. His mighty talons draw patterns on the naked skin of your back, causing you to arch and lean into his embrace; he is careful not to hurt you, though you already know you will be covered in thin red lines once he's done with you.

"My little dove," Manwë croons between kisses, his voice deceptively soft; he caresses you like a warm, gentle breeze, though you know a mighty storm is slumbering underneath his calm exterior, ready to be unleashed, should anyone else attempt to touch what is his.

"Yours," you whisper. Your hands claws at his robes as Manwë continues to mark you as his for all to see; the Elder King's mate and lover that no other would ever dare to lay claim to.

Varda

✧ The Queen of Stars is often absent from the daily affairs of Valinor in favour of tending to her creations in the depths of Eä, but she makes sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to even when she's not present.

✧ Varda loves giving you pretty necklaces, bracelets and other jewellery adorned with charms that are filled with her starlight, protecting you and burning anyone who attempts to touch you without her permission.

✧ When she makes love to you, she ensures that you will remember her touch and others see the marks she left on you as will - in case anyone was doubting that you are hers - by painting luminous constellations on your skin with her fingers, twinkling little stars reminiscent of notes in a song of her love for you.

✧ Varda also gives you water from her wells to drink, enjoying the thought of her essence filling you and providing you with light and refreshment. She will stop at nothing to make sure the powers of darkness and evil stay far away from you.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"Hold still, my little light," the Queen orders, pushing you down and into the soft sheets of her bed with gentle authority.

You blink nervously when you see the tip of her index finger glowing with sacred, primordial light, ready to paint the canvas of your bare chest with tiny, glittering stars.

"Will it hurt?"

Varda smiles and leans down to kiss your brow. "Of course not. There is no evil in your heart, dearest; my light would never hurt you."

Her starlit touch is hot, and for a moment you fear it'll sear your skin, but as soon as she begins caressing you, reminiscent of the gentle strokes of a paintbrush, the sensation changes to a comfortable heat. You raise your head to watch as she turns you into another one of her masterpieces, and your beloved Queen looks pleased whenever her nimble fingers elicit small noises from you, her luminous eyes holding your gaze while she slowly works her way lower and lower.

Oromë

♘ Oromë is a hunter with all his heart, so once he has caught you, he certainly won't let anyone take away his favourite prey. He loves giving you trophies from his hunting trips to wear as accessories, a not-so-subtle message to all that you now belong to him.

♘ But that won't satisfy him for too long. The huntsman of the Valar is a wild and passionate lover and covers you in bite and scratch marks every time he takes you, making sure they are visible too.

♘ Oromë loves all sorts of cuddling and physical affection and actively initiates it whenever an opportunity presents itself. While this is certainly done for his and your enjoyment, he also wants others to see that you are his and his alone and ensure that his scent will be all over you even when he isn't around, in order to ward off unwanted attention from other suitors. For the same reason, he also breeds you thoroughly.

♘ If you are a good little pet for him, Oromë will reward you with a lovely collar he made specifically for you, letting everyone know that he has claimed you and intends to keep you.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

Oromë's large hands hold on to your hips with a strong, bruising grip that has you whining into the moss below. You already know not to expect mercy whenever you play his favourite game of hunting and catching his prey, a symbolic earning of his right to claim you.

"What a lovely little deer," Oromë purrs and leans forward to bite the juncture between your neck and shoulder while he enters you with the fierce determination of a feral beast.

Your cries and moans only spur him on to thrust deeper and harder, his hands keeping you in place with the strength and steadiness of an experienced hunter. As far as you know, you two are alone in this part of his woods, yet something tells you that he wouldn't mind if one of the other hunting parties found you – to see him taking you, marking you, filling you with his seed to ensure that his scent you be on you for days to come.

Námo

☯ The mark of a Fëantur may be subtle, though no less intense than those visible on your skin. Once Námo has taken you as his lover, he binds your fëa to his, leaving an echo of his song and a ghost of his touch with you wherever you go. Those proficient in ósanwe and/or attuned to spiritual matters feel the Doomsman's presence wherever you go, no more than one call through your bond away.

☯ Nevertheless, Námo knows that not all Incarnates are able to sense and heed his silent warning, so he also presents you with clothes and jewellery to adorn your body. He likes long, flowing robes in dark colours, veils and little charms shaped like crows and ravens, similar to his own attire, and greatly enjoys seeing you wearing those, an unmistakable sign of belonging to him.

☯ When he isn't present and you are outside of his halls, Námo may occasionally guide your fate in whichever way he sees fit to make sure you return safely. Those who attempt to harm you will face the Doomsman's wrath.

☯ Yet as much as he wishes to protect you, Námo wants nothing more than to own and mark you in the most intimate way possible - which is your fëa. Should you ever be slain, or once his need and longing overwhelm him, he will whisk you away to Mandos, keep you there until the end of the world and fill your spirit with his song and essence time and time again until you know no other than him.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

Cool lips kiss the nape of your neck when Námo takes you, slowly and deliberately, enjoying the way your smaller form trembles in his arms. He's sitting on his throne with you on his lap, your robes covering the illicit image of the Master of Fate penetrating you, yet the small moans falling from your lips and the movement of his hips betray the truth.

"Let me have you," Námo whispers, and you know he wants more than to claim just your body, so you open your mind to him as well.

The sensation of his fëa reaching out to touch and intertwine with yours is just as intense as the joining of your bodily forms. Your helpless noises increase in volume despite your best efforts to hold back, yet Námo doesn't seem to mind – in fact, you begin to suspect that he wants the residents of Mandos to look up at his throne and watch, so they will know who you belong to for all ages to come.

Irmo

☾ No one has escaped the loving arms of the Lord of Dreams without remnants of glittering dream dust on their clothes and skin, and you are certainly no exception, quite the contrary: As Irmo's favourite little butterfly, he makes sure to touch, embrace and cuddle you to his heart's content, and ever since your courtship started, you feel like the dream dust has never left you again. He feigns innocence, yet you suspect that this is very much his intention, so everyone can see his touch upon you even when he isn't around.

☾ Irmo crafts a special dream catcher for you and makes sure you wear it at all times, an unmistakable sign of his love for you. It contains a small part of himself and his power, and he taps into it to ward off nightmares.

☾ He also likes entering your dreams, spending time with you there and, most importantly, ensuring that no other suitors may ever find their way there, because you belong to him and him alone. When you sleep in his gardens, you often wake up feeling his lips and hands kissing and caressing your body, leaving trails of dream dust and, at times, colourful patterns on your skin.

☾ As much as he enjoys claiming your body, he desires nothing more than to possess you in spirit as well, so that the union of your fëar leaves a permanent mark on your very being, filling you with his song and his essence.

. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭. . . . . ◟੭

"Here? In the middle of your garden?"

Irmo merely laughs in response and rolls you over on your back to climb on top of you, his iridescent butterfly wings fluttering excitedly.

"Why not, my darling petal? Is our love not the fairest and most beautiful thing my garden has ever seen?"

Glittering dream dust falls from his wings and hair as he leans forward to kiss you, and you soon find yourself feeling both soothed and excited by his presence and the comfortable weight of his fána on top of you.

Sensing your emotions, Irmo's gentle hand sneaks between your legs and finds you willing and eager for him, ready to be taken. He breaks the kiss to gaze at your face, delighting in your blushing cheeks, half-lidded eyes and parted, wet lips, panting softly as you look up at him.

"I will make love to you until you fall asleep in my arms," Irmo whispers, "and when you do, I will continue to make love to you in your dreams."

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot

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and-the-stars-collided · 1 year

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Ainur as Aesthetics:

Melkor — eye-rolls, either sleep for the week or sleep is for the weak, great music taste, extremely passionate, smarter than you'd think, abandoned cities, alcohol, doesn't care about opinions, midnight hours, black coffee, hates humanity, cold hands, barely-there eyeliner, sharp smiles, lace-up boots, doesn't like to be told what to do, anger so blinding that you forget where and who you are, staring at the mirror until your features start to disappear, bad decisions, their words can hit you like a gunshot, the chilling sensation of metal on your skin, sharp claws ready to slash anyone they encounter, shattered antique mirrors, long dark scarves, dark and tousled hair, swallowing hard, a little broken.

Manwë — pale white snow, red cheeks, dried flowers that used to be the colour of the sun, quiet half-smiles, sunlight coming through an open window in the morning, hair tucked behind ears, gives the most thoughtful gifts, always neat, sparkly jewellery, beautiful poetry, comforting hugs, light footsteps, kisses on cheeks, a laugh like wind chimes, thunderstorms that you feel in your chest, intelligent eyes, collector of small objects, windswept hair, loves their friends with almost an unhealthy amount of loyalty, the colour of the sky at dusk, a crisp autumn breeze, soft hair, gold-flecked souls, the one who is there for you even when you think you don't need them, singing under their breath, smiles as the rain falls down and laughs as their hair lifts in the breeze.

Varda — cracked spines of leather-bound classics, sharing pieces of your soul with the world, starting revolutions with simple words, rosewater, cherry blossom petals floating through the wind, making promises, midnight conversations, writing into abysmal nothingness, stargazing, knowing smiles, doesn't open up easily, soft skin, crystals, a night where the clouds hide the moon, stories swirling in your mind, cursive letters, piercing eyes, whispers filled with secrets, studying things that do not exist, bright flashes of light outside your window, silk bedsheets, mysterious, handwritten notes, stays up so late it's early, plays quiet music for ambiance, fingertips stained with ink.

Ulmo — bodies full of stories, a will that ebbs and flows, lazy smiles, no real devotion to anything but existence itself, wordless lullabies, glassy blue eyes, moves with grace and rhythm, late night swims, blue tie dyed sheets, flowing outfits, the rough ocean at night, tall waves and bitter winds, salty hair, long limbs, kind of sad and tired but you've never see them cry, goes with the flow, quiet voice but loud meaning, walks with purpose, always looks their best, very kind and giving, seashells, loud laughter, perfect posture, habit of overthinking, bare feet, ice-cold lemonade, laying on the ground to soak up the sun, sand in the air, intricate designs, high ceilings, dim lights, bitten nails.

Aule — confident, likes to perform, acts cool but is secretly emotional underneath, bold/dark colours, loves challenges, gets mad and forgives just as quickly, wouldn't change for anyone, laughing so loudly that strangers stare at you, running around like crazy person with your lover, compliments a stranger's crazy hair colour and feeling so good when they smile, unhealthy amounts of candy, fiery red sunsets, getting back up after being knocked down, they know that their friends are right behind them wherever they go, the burn in your lungs after chasing something you'll never be able to catch, always does their own thing.

Yavanna — warm days, soft smiles, making sure everyone is happy, walking barefoot, falling asleep in the sun, wishes everyone would be kinder, mugs of too-sweet tea, the person who screams don't kill the spider, adores animals, covered in freckles, one can never quite tell exactly what their eye colour is, pointing to the stars as they peek out from behind the clouds, large yawns early in the morning, a question left unanswered, honey, one hand catching another, tea that is swallowed for its warmth and not the taste, faded patterns on well-loved t-shirts, dew beading on flower petals, the imprints tight socks leave behind, wanderlust's yearning pull.

Orome — long hair, loves nature and animals, mist, sharp features, dirt under their fingernails, very down to earth, always willing to help, the strong friend, always has new, interesting facts to tell, tough as all hell, doesn't love easily but always loves deeply, walking barefoot everywhere, wildflowers threaded into messy braids, laying in the afternoon sun, big adventures, crisp air, deeply opinionated, climbing the tallest trees around, muddy feet, toothy smiles, accepting of everyone, follows their own path, stargazing off mountain cliffs, running through tall grass, folklore stories of fairies and dragons, a child at heart.

Nienna — honeyed and sulky dark summers, pomegranates, thunderstorms, magnolias, unkept promises, cinematic and shadowy, existing in a trance of melancholy, feels passionately though feigns detachment, slightly off-putting, their presence is announced but even if it wasn't you'd still know they were there, constantly underestimated, desperately afraid of silence, red-rimmed eyes, always appears serene, broken handwriting, short hair, foxes, dead leaves, large coats and scarves, numb fingers, old stone walls, steaming black tea, tears, gazing at a past lover down the hall, the smell before rain, old songs, nostalgia.

Námo — set features, eyes the color of dead souls, candles melting wax atop a piano, tragic smiles, an inexplicable sense of sharpness, hot tears, decaying cores, irreversible tornadoes, infectious whispers, heart is always pounding, doesn't like to be seen, nightmares, dark circles under their eyes that they can't hide, doesn't know their limits, slightly self-destructive, the silent one, bitter coffee, quiet observation, black eyeshadow, knows a bit of everything, no-nonsense, cold fingers and colder gazes, being misunderstood, sitting alone in a hard wood chair late at night, dead roses, losing a loved one too soon, moss covering broken gravestones, shattered glass, the taste of melancholy.

Irmo — glows when they talk, dewy eyes, radiates with a blessing from the sun, gentle hands, dandelions, white clouds, the shy warmth of the first days of spring, afternoon naps, soft pillows, carefree laughter, fields of reeds, basking in the moonlight, flower crowns, sunbathing in creeks, gloriously alive, hours among the leaves, kind soul, often lost in their own thoughts, nights spent watching the river, dancing in a circle, holding hands, soft clothes, sun kissed skin, always listening to music, either works too hard or not at all, warm smiles, dancing in the rain, catching fireflies, wanting to do everything and nothing all at once, innocent hope, paper stars in glass jars, bittersweet goodbyes, looking for beauty in everything, water-coloured skies.

Estë — dried orange garlands, snow on green tiled roofs, a bit in love, quills dipped in metallic ink, daydreaming, angelic singing, very fond of cuddling, homemade bread, constantly buying gifts for people, talkative, will hold your hand whenever and wherever, friends with almost everyone, convinced that sleeping at 10pm is late, strawberry ice cream, calming eyes, telling old stories, rosy cheeks, wanting the best for everyone, sunrises, loves nature, passionate about dreams, self-made flower crowns, will stay up late to comfort you, unexpected hugs from the back, not afraid to tell people they love them, humble.

Vairë — silver knitting needles, velvet skies filled with twinkling stars, red embroidery thread, hot black tea with spoonfuls of sugar, ballet shoes, hearts carved in birch bark, denim jackets, distant bells, foxgloves, rain moving over hills, cheek caresses, a bedroom left alone, walking in the mud and rain at dusk, resisting change, dead ends, unspoken feelings, finally coming home, looking up at the stars in hope of something more, simultaneously brimming with hope and lifeless, wiling the hours away, staring at the ceiling, wanting to write but not knowing the words, hiding from the world, afraid of the future, a sense of dread.

Vána — soft features, the smell of lavender, long walks in the sunshine, singing in a choir, sincere laughter, pastel colours, reading poetry aloud, baking cookies and sharing it with friends, kind gestures, painting on random objects, flower print clothes, lacy socks, handwritten love letters, forgiving people, graceful movements, writing poetry, roses, standing up for those who can't defend themselves, walks through nature, positivity, white lace, long hair, very graceful, always there for you, nostalgia of a time that you never knew, undeniably beautiful, the sweet breeze of a spring morning, slowing drifting off while laying on a green meadow, calm and collected, the best friend you could ask for.

Tulkas — loud laughter, hammocks, doesn't know when to stop, can't sleep, jacket with so many fixed holes it has been reduced to patchwork, flashing smiles, living on the edge, free spirit that will rip you to shreds if you dare to try and tame it, bloody knuckles, the moments of silence after a loud screaming match, riding into the sunset, dogs barking in the distance, the smell of fire on the air, running from person to person, unbridled chaos, aimless wandering, on the verge of greatness, call of the void, empty avenues, walking between worlds, wanting to hold the planets, melancholy nights, seeing things that aren't really there, wishing for more, overgrown unkempt gardens, bright colours against dark greens, tripping up on vines and logs, scraped knees.

Nessa — can go from laughing to serious fast if necessary, little bits of dark humour, staying up late, they do the little eyebrow thing when they get insulted, doodles, everybody else thinks they have friends but they don’t, red lipstick, lively, can be implosive, forgotten, mood swings like crazy, but very calm when they are happy, regrets decisions they made in the past, affectionately called a little brat, out until late in the afternoon of the next day, does not let anyone kill their vibe, seeing their escape in a person, the echo of your own steps on a tile floor, the sensation of being the only one left, a way that seems to have no end.

Eönwë — intimidating, has a soft side but only a few people see it, loves the forest, natural beauty, combat boots, deep thinker, false formality, a chord of music that breaks the silence, clouds rolling in, doesn't get angry but instead just fucking glares at you until you crumble, loves thunderstorms, mind like caverns, hands like stone, to hold or to hurt, heavy irises, earthquake tempers, unrequited love, soft voice, they know you whether you know them or not, lingering touches, people watching, the smell of old books and rain, faint music in the distance, won't let others break their friend's hearts, clearing their throat as a type of warning, moral righteousness, faith in humanity, towering buildings.

Mairon — sarcastic comments with a smile, glares that could kill, speaking in such a pretentious way that no one even understands you, obsession over studies, being a good person but getting corrupted, setting fire to the city, eyes like flames, heeled boots, soft aching hands buried in messy hair, ancient ruins, cups of tea gone cold, flawless eyeliner, impulsive decisions, false pretences, sickly sweet smiles, daunting realisations, masquerade masks, too stubborn to admit their regrets, waking up from a nightmare, hands cold to the bone, chest pains, the sharp cold of winter, rotting apples, dark circles under the eyes from not sleeping for days, hands stripped from over-washing.

So! Still trying to work out my masterlist and first few posts I have pre-written. In the meantime, please enjoy this messy aesthetic thingy.

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reverieparacosm · 1 year

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Melkor Imagine: "Who did this to you?"

Melkor (Morgoth) x GN!Maia

Warnings: Injury

Note: A Request by @shamelessredpanda and it's a follow-up to the Headcanons: What it would be like to be Melkor's only Maia

Melkor, a powerful Ainur, is a fierce protector of his loved ones. When he sees the evidence of the fight on his Maia's face, he is overcome with worry. He tilts his Maia's chin up to get a better look at the injury, his eyes scanning every inch of the wound intently. As he delicately thumbs away the streak of blood, the Maia's heart skips a beat, knowing that Melkor's anger is barely restrained.

After a brief pause, Melkor looks Maia dead in the eyes and speaks in a quiet and tense voice, "Who did this to you?"

The Maia hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to answer. But the look in Melkor's eyes tells them that they can trust him.

Finally, Maia speaks up, recounting the events of the fight and the person who caused the injury. Melkor's eyes blaze with anger as he listens, and when Maia finishes, Melkor springs into action, determined to protect his beloved Maia and make things right.

With Melkor by their side, the Maia feels a newfound sense of safety and security, knowing that they are not alone in the world. But the Maia can't shake off the tension that hangs in the air, knowing that Melkor's anger is just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

Melkor's jaw clenches in anger. How dare they lay a hand on his Maia?

"I won't let them get away with this," he growls, his eyes blazing with fury. "Stay here, I'll handle it." The Maia watches in awe as Melkor gathers his weapons and marches out of the room. They knew that their protector is strong and capable, but they couldn't help but be worried about what would happen.

Hours passes, and just as the sun starts to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the sky, one can't help but feel a sense of melancholy. The end of the day signifies the passing of time, the fleeting nature of existence, and the inevitability of change. But even as the sun disappears from view, we know that it will rise again tomorrow, bringing with it a new day and new opportunities. Perhaps this is the greatest lesson we can learn from the setting sun: that every ending is also a beginning, and that nothing truly ends, but simply transforms into something new.

Melkor returns, his face is stoic, but the Maia could tell that there is a satisfied glint in his eyes. "It's done," he says simply. "They won't be bothering you again."

The Maia feels a sense of relief wash over them. They know that Melkor's love and protection is unwavering, and they are grateful to have him by their side. But as they look at Melkor, they couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. They know that his anger and impulsiveness are dangerous, and they couldn't help but wonder what other battles he would pick in the future. For now, they would cherish his loyalty and protection, but they know that Melkor's temper is a force to be reckoned with.

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elficially-done-with-life · 3 months

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Relax

Pairing: Yavanna x fem!reader

A/N: My first time writing for an Ainur/Valar, yayy! I hope you like this. I headcanon that the Reader was one of the elves on the Helcaraxë and was the first one to die out of the cold. That is why it was decided that Yavanna would help her heal, which lead to them falling in love.

Summary: Yavanna and the Reader have their first time.

Warnings: sexual content

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Relax." Yavanna's voice was like honey in your ears. You had never understood how she managed to sound so soothing and gentle. It was unlike anything you'd ever heard from anyone else and it would have made your knees weak if you hadn't been lying on the ground long ago.

Beneath you, you felt the light tickle of the grass. On the rest of your already naked body, you had already gotten rid of your clothes at the beginning, you felt Yavanna's fingers, which felt like a gentle spring breeze.

You wished you could fulfil her wish and relax, but your heart was pounding in your chest, after all, this was the first time you'd ever done anything like this and you were a little nervous. But a good kind of nervous.

You could already feel the heat spreading through your lower regions.

The way your lips kissed, the way her nose rubbed against your collarbones and neck, and the way the tips of your bare breasts gently pressed or brushed against each other whenever she leant towards you was the most wonderful thing you'd ever felt.

In the back of your mind you wondered if it would always feel like this, or only with Yavanna, but then you realised that it didn't matter, because she was the only one for you.

Her hands found your hips and her fingers were gently ghosting over your skin. None of her touches were too firm or seemed awkward, which had made you a little nervous at first, but she had whispered softly into your ear, "Do not worry, you will do great." Her voice seemed to have rekindled your courage, because your touches increased after that.

You felt her gently lick the outside of your ear, causing you to shiver and moan softly.

Right at the beginning you had been a little embarrassed by your body's reactions, but when you had looked up at Yavanna and seen her smile and the fire in her eyes, which had dispelled the otherwise warm breeze in them, you had realised that she really liked your body's reactions, so you had given them free rein.

Yavanna's fingers massaged your hips as her lips slowly travelled down your body. As she sought to kiss your neck, you could feel the pleasant warmth of the sun on your face until your senses were distracted by something else.

As Yavanna's lips reached your breasts, another moan escaped you and you could feel it getting even wetter in between your legs.

At your reaction, Yavanna laughed her laugh that sounded like a warm summer breeze and reminded you of all the days you had spent here together laughing, sometimes crying, but definitely in love and happy.

And so you finally managed to relax, which she seemed to notice straight away, because before she turned her attention back to your breasts, she whispered: "Well done!"

Her lips brushed gently against the tip of your nipple, and your hands found her elbows to cling to as your body arched towards her.

One of her hands found your other breast and began to gently knead it with her fingers. So gently that her touch was barely perceptible.

She looked up into your face, as if to make sure everything was alright with you, before she placed her lips just below your breasts and continued her journey downwards.

It seemed like only a few seconds, but you knew Yavanna had taken longer than that before her soft lips began to kiss up the inside of your legs.

A soft whimper escaped your mouth and goose bumps spread all over your body.

She looked up at you again and waited until you nodded trembling, then she placed her lips, slightly more open than with her previous kisses, over the lips of your vagina.

It felt like your whole body was on fire, but it was a pleasant fire, and one that Yavanna had under control, which made it beautiful.

Eventually she began to gently lick along your vagina, each touch making you see stars, until her tongue finally penetrated between your lips and found its way into your vagina.

Your hands gripped the grass around you tightly, clinging to it as you feared you would otherwise lose consciousness.

There were no words in any language you had ever heard, you were sure, to describe exactly what you were feeling. It was different than you had expected, but in a good way.

It wasn't long before you felt your vagina squeeze. It went faster than you expected. Maybe it was like that because it was the first time for you?

Yavanna seemed to notice too, as the movements of her tongue quickened and just before you came, she began to suck, slowly swallowing your juices.

As you slowly came down from your climax, you felt your legs go a little numb and it took you a moment to realise just how out of breath you were.

Yavanna slowly sat up, but not before she had pressed one last gentle kiss to the outside lips of your vagina, causing you to tremble as it was still sensitive.

Remnants of your fluids glistened on Yavanna's lips. She carefully stroked her lips with her thumb and collected it all before licking it off.

That alone almost brought you back to your senses and made you aroused a second time. You were really happy to have her.

#ainur x reader #valar x reader #yavanna #yavanna x reader #ainur #valar #tolkien x reader #x reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #silm smut #smut #first time #yavanna x fem!reader #lesbian tolkien fandom #tolkien x fem!reader #fem!reader

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ainur-interactions · 1 year

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"You are a little sparrow... The littlest one. My little baby sparrow." *kisses Manwë's nose*

the king practically beams, leaning in and taking all of your affection gladly. he shuts his eyes, bringing his head to nuzzle against your neck. “I'm your little sparrow.” he croons, pressing a peck to your cheek.

#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ manwë ─ ♡.#manwë #manwë súlimo #manwë x reader #manwe #manwe x reader #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #ainur #valar #valar x reader #interactions

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doodle-pops · 7 months

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˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Welcome back to Kinktober 2023 for The Silmarillion. As usual, this masterlist and the main one will be updated after each post under the respective characters. All work will be tagged under #silm smut and #mina_kinktober2023 for easier findings.

If you enjoyed my work, I can only politely ask that you positively comment, reblog and leave a like.

Week 1 [2nd–6th]

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Cockwarming | CEO! Maedhros — Show Me Your Devotion

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Somnophilia | Elladan — Sunshine and Peaches

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Fantasy/Dream Sex | Fingon — Wild, Wild Thoughts

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ First Time | Argon — Honeymoon Sweetheart

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Size Kink/Stomach Bulge | Celebrimbor — Midnight Mischief

Week 2 [9th–13th]

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Thigh Riding | Feanor — Let Me Dance For You

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Brat Taming | Erestor — Troublemaker

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Dacryphilia | Námo — Love Me as You Cry

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Breeding Kink | Fingolfin — Mr. and Mrs. Hours

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Lingerie | Curufin — Diamonds and Pleasure

Week 3 [16th–20th]

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Squirting | Turgon — Dusk Till Dawn

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Cunnilingus | Glorfindel — A Matter of Honour and Pride

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Hunter and Prey | Beleg — Paradise at the Border

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Corruption Kink | Eönwë — The Delicacy of a Dove

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Fingering | Thingol — Let Me Indulge in Your Fantasies

Week 4 [23rd–27th]

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Mirror Kink | Finrod — Love in the Moonlight

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Body–Worship | Egalmoth — One and Only

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Threesome | Finarfin + Fingolfin — A Dance Made for Us

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Exhibitionism | Irmo — Like the World Is Watching

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Bondage | Ecthelion — Sit Still, Look Pretty

Week 5 [30th–31st]

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Sensory Play | Manwë — Desert Rose

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ Aphrodisiac/Sex Pollen | Elrond — Kiss it Better

This content is the works of ©doodle-pops 2023. No permission to repost, upload, translate or plagiarise on any platform. Reblogs are welcomed to show support to content creators. I do not own any of these characters. All rights to the original creators.

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

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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

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yandere-ainur-confessions · 1 year

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would you write a headcanon of how valar and maiar fall for darling and start to be obsessed with them? (did I do it right?? I'm so nervous lol)

❪ ♡ ❫ ── 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 - 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 . . .

♡. 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

they remember it so vividly. the day that you walked into their life. passing by them in all your perfectness. your beauty, your demeanour, the small little smile that you gave them once you caught their unintentional stare. many would call it just a chance encounter. the gardens, a banquet, a mere passing interaction - but oh, you will scorn their mind for all eternity. did you feel it too? the connection that they felt? the song of your fëa, surely it was singing for them? it will drive them mad and they will be eager to meet you again. when you recognise them, their heart would sore. so you did feel the same? oh, if only you knew what you had gotten yourself into. they'll make it their life's mission to learn every little thing about you. stalking, you say? no, they're just lovingly learning more about their soulmate. now they are convinced that you are meant to be theirs. and it certainly would be unfortunate if you didn't think so too

𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒘𝒆, 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒌𝒂𝒔, ulmo, vana, 𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒂, yavanna, 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏, aiwendil, 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒆, luilire

♡. 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

you were most likely one of the few people outside of their family to show them true kindness. it felt like they were on air. that day that you aided them with something, or defended their name from others. they remember how fast their heart beat, how their song shifted to a thousand symphonies as they gazed at you with wonder. to think. . . that someone actually cared. from that day they grew hungry for your affection and favour. eager to seek you out and hope that you would continue to show them the kindness and attention that they were greedy for. you made them feel so. . . complete. they've never loved someone so wholeheartedly, so completely, until the day your touch grazed their hand and you smiled at them so warmly. they hope that you feel the same and will do just about anything to gain your attention, even if it's subtly. and should you place your attention elsewhere? you'll regret it.

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓, aule, nessa, 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏, curumo, gothmog, osse, 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏, almion, 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆

♡. 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

they have known you for the longest time. it feels like they've loved you for even longer. they are one of your closest companions, the person that you turn to when in need of aid. the one that you cry on when you're sad. the one that has been with you through every good and each bad. they boast in such a fact - that they know you so intimately and that they are the person that you rely on. . . but there is a deeper sense of longing within them, a yearning for something more. they feel possessive over you. after all, aren't they your everything like you are to them? why can't you see that the two of you are meant to be together? every time you bring up someone else they feel a bit of their sanity chipping away. they'll make you see how much you need them. how much they love you. after all, if you didn't feel the same, why did you lead them on? you have to take responsibility. they'll make sure of it, make sure that you know who you belong to.

𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒐, orome, 𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒂, este, 𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒘𝒆, ilmare, arien, melian, 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒆, 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆, erulisse, 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒆

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cilil · 7 months

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Which of the Yandere!Valar would be worst for you to reject?

𝓐𝓝 ~ Hmm... interesting question! I've given this some thought and decided to list a few of them plus the reasons why (hoping I understood what you meant correctly, as in which Valar would have the worst reactions - if not feel free to send another ask X))

𝓣𝓦𝓼 ~ Yandere, possessive and obsessive behavior, hints at violent behavior, emotional and psychological manipulation, unhealthy and abusive relationships

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Melkor

Probably the most obvious answer. Melkor is particularly obsessive and possessive and doesn't take no for an answer, believing that no one has any right to deny He who arises in Might, the true King of Arda. His love can turn into hatred in a heartbeat, and he will do whatever it takes to claim you as his.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Varda

The Queen of Stars and Lady of Light is not only revered, but also feared for a reason. She's used to being adored by everyone and admired as the most beautiful being in Eä, so your rejection would be incomprehensible to her. How could you possibly deny her? And what most people don't know about Varda is that her wrath burns just as bright and hot as her stars, and she can be very vindictive.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Námo

Námo never forgets and has power over fate and death. What a grievous injustice you have committed by rejecting him... but he knows already it won't matter. Because in the end, once death claims you, your soul will fall into his grasp - for eternity if that's his verdict. Even if you aren't mortal, all it takes is a curse for death to eventually find you after all. You can't escape Námo, no matter how hard you try.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Irmo

To reject Irmo would already be quite a feat, as the Master of Desire has countless tricks up his sleeve to woo you. But even if you do, he too (much like his brother) won't let you escape. Irmo will invade your dreams, twisting them to suit his purposes, and slowly drive you insane with dreams, visions and illusions until you yearn for the sweet relief of his embrace.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

tag list: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @singleteapot @wandererindreams

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and-the-stars-collided · 1 year

Text

Feelings I associate with the Valar:

Melkor — the pleasant sinking feeling deep in your chest as you look down at the ground from something tall

Manwë — the "boom" in your heart when you hear a firework explode

Varda — the safeness you feel when you see the moon shining

Ulmo — the feeling when you finally adjust to the cold of the ocean

Aule — the pride of building furniture by yourself

Yavanna — the surge of need to protect a child you love

Orome — the horror-struck feeling when you are alone and everything is too quiet

Nienna — the absent feeling when you are doing something enjoyable and then suddenly feel like the world is falling down around you

Námo — the bolt of panic though your body when you hear a strange noise in the night

Irmo — the giggle in your chest when you were given a sip of wine as a child

Este — the calm of having someone brush your hair

Vaire — the buzz of your fingers opening a package you had been waiting for

Vana — the rush of euphoria when you open your window in the morning and everything smells green

Tulkas — the anticipation as you wait for someone to realise you pranked them

Nessa — the funny feeling in your stomach when you see the sun outside your window and realise you've stayed up all night

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reverieparacosm · 1 year

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Headcanons what it would be like to be Melkor's only Maia

Melkor (Morgoth) x GN!Reader

Warnings: manipulative behavior, toxic relationship, abuse, Yandere, gaslighting, possessive behaviors, yandere behavior, angst

Note: A Request by @shamelessredpanda

Melkor's decision to confine himself to a single Maia can be traced to his fear of abandonment, which stems from a deep sense of rejection toward the other Ainur. He perceives that they lack comprehension of his visionary ideas and are unable to extend the support he craves

This experience left Melkor with a deep sense of isolation and loneliness, and he became convinced that he could only truly rely on himself. As a result, he became possessive and jealous of those who he cared about, including his only Maia

Melkor would be constantly paranoid that his Maia would leave him for someone else, and would go to great lengths to keep them by his side

As Melkors only Maia, it would be a confusing and stressful situation to be in. On one hand, they would feel flattered and honored that Melkor, a powerful Vala, would be in love with them. On the other hand, they would be deeply troubled by the fact that he is capable of causing great harm to the world

"Love is a cruel mistress. It tempts us with its sweet embrace and then crushes us in its grasp. We are but pawns in its game, unable to resist its pull. And yet, despite its cruelty, we continue to chase it, to crave its touch. For in its depths, we find a darkness that consumes us whole, a darkness that is all too familiar. And so, my love, we dance together in this twisted game, our hearts entwined in its embrace"

The Maia's true loyalty is to the light, and they have been sent to infiltrate Melkor's ranks and gather information to aid in the fight against him. However, as time passed, the Maia began to feel a genuine connection to Melkor and his cause, and started to question their own allegiances

The Maia is aware of Melkor's dark nature and has tried to distance themselves from him, but his love and charm have always drawn them back in

Having only one Maia enables Melkor to maintain control over his lover and ensures that they would never leave him. It also enables him to present a united front against his enemies, as he and his Maia work together to spread chaos and destruction throughout the world

Moreover, Melkor's desire for control and perfection also plays a role in his decision to have only one Maia. He sees his Maia as a reflection of himself and wants to maintain complete control over their development and actions. By having only one Maia, Melkor is able to shape them into the perfect being for him, one who would never betray him or leave him

Melkor has chosen his Maia because he sees potential in them, he knows that with the right training and guidance, they could become a powerful being

The Maia is an entity that possesses an array of mystical abilities that are beyond the realm of human comprehension. Amongst these abilities are spells and curses that can be cast upon individuals, objects, or even entire communities. The Maia's spells are imbued with ancient knowledge and power, which can be harnessed to accomplish different purposes

Furthermore, the curses of Maia are powerful and can have dire consequences for those who incur their wrath. From altering the course of events to manipulating reality itself, the Maia's magical abilities are truly awe-inspiring and leave no doubt that it is a force to be reckoned with

It would be a tumultuous relationship, with Melkor constantly fighting against any perceived threats to his power and control over the only Maia he cares about

Being Melkor's only Maia would be a mix of both adoration and fear. Being the only one he truly cares about would mean being the object of his affection and attention, but on the other hand, it would also mean being subject to his possessiveness and jealousy. The constant fear of losing the only being he truly cares about would lead to him being overprotective, and even controlling

"As much as you may perceive me as being unkind, my actions are a testament of my affection towards you. My utmost priority is to ensure that you remain safe and out of harm's way, which is why I feel compelled to keep you in close proximity to me at all times. You are a precious gem to me, an invaluable possession that I hold dear. You bring me immense joy and satisfaction, akin to a prized possession. Hence, I will go to great lengths to maintain my hold on you, as you are mine and mine alone"

Melkor would be consumed by his love and desire for his only Maia, and would do anything to protect and control them. This would lead to a power imbalance in the relationship, with the Maia being at the mercy of Melkor's whims and desires

"You make me want to do things to you that would make even the most depraved gods blush"

Despite his possessiveness, Melkor would also be extremely affectionate and loving towards his Maia, showering them with gifts and attention. However, this affection would also be tinged with a sense of ownership, as if he believes they belong to him and him alone

Melkor would give them a beautiful and powerful blade, made by himself. Such an item would be the most important and sacred of all. The possessor of such a weapon would be granted unimaginable power, and a direct connection to Melkor. As long as his Maia wield such an instrument, he would know where they were as well

"Accept my sword, my beloved. This weapon possesses incalculable might and shall provide you with a link to my essence. I trust that you shall employ this instrument to accomplish magnificent feats in my honor!"

Love is a powerful emotion that can bring great joy and fulfillment, but it can also lead to obsession and blindness. This is especially true for Melkor, who is so devoted to his beloved Maia that he may not even be aware of his own obsession. Despite his immense power and intelligence, he may be blinded by his feelings and fail to see the dangers that lurk behind his lover's sweet smile. Perhaps one day, he may be shocked to discover that his beloved Maia has a knife hidden behind their back, ready to strike at any moment

Follow-up

Melkor Imagine: "Who did this to you?"

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archiveofthelibrarian · 5 months

Text

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Manwion had hair of silver, which at night, reflected the starry sky yet glistened gold when Laurelin waxed. His long silver waves was adored by all, Quendi and Ainur alike, rivaled only by the gold-silver hair of Artanis which was said to have captured the very essence of the Two Trees.

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Love and Glass

Prologue

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Inspired by my conversation with @animatorweirdo as anon here.

I have conflicted feelings about this. One one hand, I love the idea and can't get it out of my head. On the other, my execution of this is questionable. So I am throwing it into the void of internet.

I tried to mimick the style in which Tolkien wrote to convey this idea's whimsical and dreamy feel in my head. Alhtough I am not sure I have succeded. Again, this is not beta read, so feel free to point out any mistakes. I

Masterpost for the fic can be found here.

DISCLAİMER: I do not own anything you recognize. This is a fanwork for entertainment purposes and should be regarded as such.

Word count: 432

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Long ago, before the rising of the Sun and the Moon, all newborn elves would be brought before the Valar so that they may receive a blessing from those who crafted Arda.

With time, there grew a great love for elflings in the hearts of the Valar. And though they all loved the elves, there was no greater love than the one Manwë and Varda bore.

Their love was so great, that they wished to love a child of their own, and though they knew it was against the vision of Eru, they set out to work.

With the help of Aulë the smith, Manwë and Varda took their love, poured it into Aulë's work, and then shaped and molded it into their desire.

Finally, a child resembling an elfling came to be from the work of the Valar. Though he looked as any elfling would, he had no free will or fire of his own.

Eru, who saw the great love Manwë and Varda bore for this creation for their's, allowed him to live and have a fire of his own.

But this wayward behavior of Manwë and Varda could not go unpunished, so he allowed the child no name of his own, save for Manwion, meaning son of Manwë, so that he may know when he is called.

Blinded by their love for the little child they would call their own, Manwë and Varda paid no mind to it.

But everyone else did.

The rest of the Valar pitied him, the Maiar shed tears him and the Quendi looked at him oddly, for the Quendi valued their names above all their possessions.

But Manwion understood none of this, for he was a being of innocence and wonder. He could not understand any darkness or malice.

But that did not matter in a world pure and untainted.

What none of the dwellers of Aman, save for Fëanáro, understood was that nothing in this world could last forever.

Soon, Melkor was released from the Halls after his three ages long imprisonment and he started his plan for revenge.

No one noticed as he sowed lies and discord among the Noldor. No one until he stole the holy light and the precious prince.

Melkor, who was renamed into Morgoth, destroyed the Two Trees with the help of the spider Ungoliant and kidnapped Manwion.

As the Valar and the Vanyar wept for their loss, the Noldor took action. With their spirits ignited by Fëanáro's passionate speech, they started their journey to the eastern lands of Beleriand.

The dead bodies of the Trees stand in Ezellohar still but no one knows what happened to their joyful, pure prince Manwion.

Not even the Dark Lord himself.

#silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #silm #silm x reader #silm fic #tolkien fanfiction #Manwë #manwë súlimo #varda #varda elentari #modern girl in middle earth #gn reader #modern person in middle earth #melkor #morgoth #the valar #love and glass #love and glass prologue

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ainur-interactions · 1 year

Note

God let me top you Manwë~ Please~ I promise I’ll be gentle~

his white lashes bat with surprise at your shamelessness before a pink finds his fair cheeks. still, he smiles, polite as ever as he leans in to you. “quite the lewd one, aren't you?” he chuckles to cover up his embarrassment.

“I wouldn't be. . . opposed to it if it makes you happy, darling.”

#·⊰ ꒰🌸꒱ 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ៸៸ manwë ─ ♡.#manwë #manwë x reader #manwe #manwë súlimo #the silmarillion #silm #tolkien #ainur #valar #valar x reader #smut #minors dni #interactions

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doodle-pops · 1 year

Text

Cherry Blossoms

Manwë x reader

A/N: First smut piece of the new year and since Kinktober, it's been a long while, hasn't it? :) I felt like I almost forgot how to write a decent piece lol

Warnings: fembod, breeding, size kink, knotting, dom-sub dynamic, manhandling, fingering, cervix fucking, stomach bulging, avian traits and Manwë being a feral King

Words: 6.5k

Synopsis: Cherry blossoms were always Manwë's favourite flower especially when he could taste it on your skin during a spring heat.

The moment you stepped onto the grounds of Illmarin, Manwё was able to smell you and it spurred his temptation to have you into overdrive. He was resisting the urge to leave his solidarity and come find you. The way you aimlessly roamed through the halls of Illmarin, calling out his name or his herald prompted his hand to run down his down and grip the base of his shaft. Your voice sounded sweet and innocent, like the finest cherry blossoms spring had to offer this year. Your honey scent rippled off your skin and waffled through the air, travelling all the way to his quiet domain to assist him with his indulgence.

The hand wrapped around his shaft refused to start off slowly; the heavy grip at the base squeezed and tugged as his other hand fondled his balls. Harmonious moans were sung through the room and echoed off the glass walls, some dancing through the air and into the open garden. For every moan he released, your presence grew nearer and so was your scent; you were ripe for taking. There wasn’t a single thought behind his head other than taking you right the moment you walked through those doors. Just to have you sprawled out beneath him as his hips drove themselves into your heavenly heat while you sang his name alongside the magpies and larks. Just like a spring bird.

His eyes were shut when he heard your footsteps halt outside his room, and he silently and impatiently waited for you to push the cream and blue doors open. Behind his impatience, mutters and growls about you keeping your mate waiting grew to bass-baritone. The hand sliding along his shaft quickened its pace but still kept it under control, wanting for you to become aware of how wild he would become for you. How easily your scent and presence would drive him to the brink of sanity and make him lose all sense of composure.

A quiet knock on the door took him out of his trance and urged him to crane his neck to the right and observe your petite figure entering his room. The moment you walked through the door, you were met with Manwё’s back facing you, naked in the pool with his white hair clinging to his skin. The glow of his skin under Arien’s ray was stunning the longer you stared. His muscles were toned and ripped, and the slight tan to his skin as the light kissed him made you feel jealous. You wanted to be up close and personal with him like she did. Manwё could feel your gaze on him, and he felt pleased knowing that his mate was impressed with his physique. His ability to protect and provide was approved by you.

You were still standing near the door when his voice rang out, missing the hint of him teasing you, “How did you know I was here buttercup?” It was taking every last ounce of restraint from Manwё to not pounce on you right there. But at the same time, he was using the realistic visual to assist his throbbing cock and the precum oozing from the tip.

“I-I don’t exactly know My Lord, I just walked,” the use of his title made his cock throb with more want and a greater desire to ravish you on the cold marble floor. The innocence in your voice was driving him up a mountain. He had yet to turn around and bare himself to you, allowing you to witness the mess you were making of him. Though, he was stunned that you hadn’t questioned his lack of integrity in his nudity, “Apologies My Lord if I interrupted—”

“—You interrupted nothing, you are welcomed…to stay if it,” the growls in his voice echoed while the rigid muscles in his back and arms gave away his tenseness, “pleases you, princess.” His voice echoed inside your mind, melting and turning you into a complete puddle of mess. The use of your endearing term incited butterflies to fly around in your stomach before travelling to your heat. All the while, you still didn’t comprehend what was happening to him.

“Manwё—”

“My Lord, that is to you princess,” his voice was like caramel; rich, sweet, thick and creamy as it poured into your ears and made your core throb. A tiny flow of your arousal leaked and it didn’t go unnoticed by the Elder King. His nose twitched and pointed in the air as he directed a cool flow of wind to pick up your scent. Manwё didn’t attempt to withhold the moan escaping his throat while his wrist flicked his shaft, thumb swiping at the slit, and squeezing his balls. He was close and he could feel the swelling of his balls being filled with his cum and the dire urge to breed you. Lulling his head to the side, his stormy blue eyes slithered over to observe your state of shock; the pheromones radiating off you surely did not assist in covering up your desire for him as well.

You were standing there, holding your arms with doe eyes at your King. This was a new behaviour from him, one you hadn’t experienced nor heard of before. It turned you on which created a stream of flowing mess trailing down your thighs and clinging to your lips, but you weren’t sure how he would take it. As far as you knew, your Lord was reserved with anything that involved intimacy. “M-My Lord Manwё, is everything alright? You do not quite look yourself…” and it was then you saw it, the ring of gold that flashed in the light and the predatory gleam in his eyes told you that this was not your Manwё.

Loving the gasp elicited from you, he couldn’t help but feel in a playful mood; he wanted to toy with his meal before devouring you whole and thoroughly. You were such a pretty prey, why not play with his meal for a bit, rile you up to his liking and then ravish you. The deep chuckle that reverberated within his chest bounced off the glass and marble walls. It echoed deep within your fёa and added to the growing arousal. You believed that from the distance the King stood, he could surely see the small wet patch on your dress that clung to your heat. It made you shuffle your hands to cover up while dancing on your feet.

While you were shuffling, Manwё took the opportunity to turn himself around and bare his naked form to you, though you only saw from his waist come up. Wading through the waters, he glided with elegance until he approached the staircase and bounded up the four-threader with ease before strutting over to you. Naked as he was created, the rise in your heart rate was picked up by him and he smirked at the effects. You were his mate; it was your duty to be affected by him. everything he did was supposed to make you swoon for him because they were all done for you.

His left hand reached up to push his hair back and out of his face, allowing it to cascade down his back. The water droplets clung to his skin with an absolute refusal to let go and the slight tan to his caramel skin made him appear delectable. Your tongue betrayed you and poked past your lips to wet them. Images of you licking the water off his skin flooded your mind and made you grow hotter. Even, the knowledge and reality of your King strolling casually over to you in his naked form was making it hard to breathe. You didn’t know if to inhale twice before exhaling or the opposite. You found yourself struggling to compose your fidgeting, especially the eyes. Where to look other than his leaking cock that dangled like a third leg? The sky, the walls or the pools? He strutted proudly over to you with danger and hunger gleaming in his eyes.

The tip was red and stood out from the rest of his body and it appeared angry and hungry, desperately waiting and wanting to be put out of misery. His veins were engorged and if anything, his cock was engorged as well. You knew and heard enough about what the average male carried, and this was beyond average. Even knowing that he was a celestial being, he wasn’t supposed to be that big, right? His body was beefier than normal as though he spent a copious time building muscles in your absence. And his height, what was the normal nine feet he presented himself as was now ten feet. Your Lord towered over your meek form with feral grins and coy smirks. All this time, you were trapped between the door and his approaching figure. You could run if you wanted, but your legs refused to move due to the desired essences his presence offered. You were feeding off him.

“My, my, my, what have we here. A little bird in my domain in need of helping,” he finally stood above you, thick fingers gripping your chin and tilting it upwards to meet his midnight blue eyes. The flash of desire and the swirling storms raging within told you that Manwё had long given up the internal battle. At the whisper of his words, you rubbed your thighs together to cease the growing pain. You King didn’t miss the action, he smelt it right off you.

His head couldn’t help but dip to meet your face, licking his peach lips as he observed your trembling form. So meek and timid, perfect for his taking to fill you with his cum. You were ripe for his taking and your King wasn’t missing the opportunity. Swiping his thumb against your bottom lip, he marvelled at its softness; cherry blossoms, and he wished to bite or nibble at it.

You were lost in his hypnotic gaze as it sucked you into a never-ending pit of pleasure. You weren’t even aware of the hand that tugged yours and guided you over to the pool. Your legs aimlessly followed his massive figure over to the crystal waters filled with cherry blossoms, your King’s favourite flower during the spring. Eyes locked onto the pool filled with flowers, a hand rose to cup the back of your neck before trailing your skin to meet the laces on your dress. With an easy tug, the laces came undone and your dress loosen around your frame. He was impatient and didn’t appreciate the wait, right now, he had no problem shredding the dress of your body and tossing it to the side haphazardly before tugging your dazed figure into the waters.

Bare before your King, he eyed you up and down, eyes falling on your hips and stomach as images of having you stuffed with his cum while he bruised your hips filled his mind. Oh, your King was going to wreck you from start till end. Any attempt to cover up was removed from the admiration he cast your way. His thick fingers trailed over your skin leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake while ghosting your neither regions. Manwë’s hands didn’t fail to cup your breast, feeling your trembling and marvelling at the perfection they were as they sat in his hands. The shy virgin in you was peeking out from behind her hands at the interaction. She wanted to cower timidly at her Lord, but the lustful looks he gave to her, beckoned her to climb out of her shy shell. Manwë wanted to dance with her and show her the world she was missing and yet to enjoy.

The pleasure and excitement of having him all to herself, giving herself all to him; to be claimed and consumed by a godly figure like himself. He wanted her to experience all that and more. “Be not shy before me arimelda, bare yourself to me, your King—join me and become mines,” his voice reached out to your fëa and tickled you out of your shell. His hand reached out to guide you into the water, and step by step, he pulled you in to meet him. The inviting look in his eyes made you walk to him blindly without a care in the world. You knew that Manwë would never hurt you and that you trusted him with your life.

Leading you over to the miniature waterfall, you stood on the stones to give yourself some height as your King silently pressed himself against your back. His hands ran up and down your arms, caressing your honey skin and covering you with water. You could feel his cock poking your back, rubbing to gain slight friction as his hands began to wander. From your arms, they came to your neck and shoulders, tilting it to the side for him to bring his lips down on your skin. Biting and sucking on the delicate flesh, Manwë was decorating your skin in hues of purple flowers. Your brain was hazy from all the pheromones he was permeating through the air and prompted your body to relax into his. Your hands that covered your breast fell to the side and dragged their nails into his thighs. For every bite he gave, your nail dug deeper into his flesh, barely breaking the skin.

The sounds of water and moans danced through the air as Manwë devoured your skin like it was the sweetest nectar heaven offered him. His hands ran up and down your body crazily, making the most stops around your lower abdomen, cupping the area and giving little rubs as he mentally imaged your skin stretched and filled with his cum. His left hand danced lower past your navel and closer to your heat while the right remained on your abdomen. His lips trailed closer to your ears to whisper absolute filth about what he was planning on doing.

“Right here,” he rubbed your stomach, “I’m going to fill you with my cum so sweetly that you’d beg me for more, hmm sweetness. And right here,” he cupped your cunt, "I’m going to fuck you so perfectly with my cock...make you mine.” His hand cupped your cunt dipped lower to spread your lips and run his thumb through your folds.

Tossing your head onto Manwë’s shoulder as you twisted in his embrace at the newfound sensation, you gasped as you felt his tongue brushing your earlobe at the same time his index finger slunk into your entrance. Everything was overwhelming, it was as though your senses were on fire. You felt everything all at once and didn't know how to process it—push him away or keep him close. All you knew was that the pleasure was phenomenal. Your hands left his thighs to grip his biceps, curling into them and leaving dozens of crescent moon marking for later showings. The flick of his tongue and finger were in synchronicity and knocked the air out of your chest, you were fighting to compute a sentence aside from the musically pleasing moans and whines.

Manwë’s avian traits were feeding into the songs and considered you singing for him. A pleasing response for the King from his mate. He couldn’t help but respond with low coos in your ear while he grounded his hips into your back for greater friction, smearing his precum across your skin and staining you with his scent. The underlying possessiveness of your King. You would hear it in the lowly grows and chirps.

“My K-King! Feels...feels,” you fumbled with your words as his finger caved deeper, brushing the tip of your cervix.

“Go on, tell your mate how he’s making you feel little dove,” he cooed in your ear while nibbling on your lobe. His finger took the right moment to twist and pump with greater vigour causing you to arch out of his grasp and check on a sob, “let him know how much you love his hands all over you.”

Fighting in Manwë's grip as the pleasure grew, he removed his hand from your stomach and cupped your head to turn it towards him and met his lips. His larger ones swooped down to capture yours in a heated lock. There was no point in fighting for dominance, you understood that your King was in charge and there was no questioning it. With ease, he pried your lips apart the same time he traced another finger around your entrance, prepping you before joining the other. He had to ensure you were ready to take him otherwise he'd tear you in half. The thought of you being a tight fit made his head light and giddy. Oh, Manwë wanted to ruin you to complete shatters. To feel your nails digging into his biceps and begging him to slow down as he left your insides battered drove his cock to sputter cum across your back. The loud grunt of his baritone moan echoed off the glass as his hips eased their movement bringing him down from his high.

“M-My King, you came?”

“Worry not my little dove, there’s more where that came from and it’s all for you. I have plenty to give,” he spoke into the kiss before wrapping his tongue around yours and sucking on the muscle drawing out musical notes. He was sucking the air out of your chest, loving the taste of cherries, “but for now, let me feel you around my fingers once more, cream all over them for me, let me taste you.”

“Ngh—oh fuck,” you squealed as his second ginger joined the first, tight was the fit and suffocating Manwë felt. His cock twitched in delight and anticipation. His fingers crooked and pumped their way past your walls, relishing in the hot, gummy sensation. The sponginess of your heat wrapped around his fingers elicited groans from his lips. Manwë wasn’t sure if he could take the wait any longer and decided it was to withdraw his fingers. Crying out at the loss of his digits, your body was airborne for a short moment before your back was pressed against the cold wet hard stone of the waterfall and your legs wrapped around the Elder King’s waist. You were like a doll compared to him, perfect for manhandling about the place to his liking.

His enormous palms reached out to cup your ass, lifting and bringing you closer to his waiting cock. With your short arms around his neck, you craned to look down at where he was slapping against your stomach. The sheer weight of his cock resting against you made you terrified of what was yet to come. “M-My Lord, I d-don’t think you w-would fit...you're too big for me,” whining at him, which caught his attention, Manwë dipped his head down to cup your face while thumbing your cheeks.

“My sweetest little dove, you were made for me, therefore I will fit. We will make it fit,” with that, he easily lifted you with his left hand while the right was stroking his hardened cock, readying it for passage.

Looking down at his leaking cock, you gasped when the head nudged against your entrance, pushing itself past the first ring of muscles. Scrambling in his hold and clawing at his back, once the tip slipped in, Manwë slowly sunk you down on his shaft. His veins kissed your gummy walls, noodling and reshaping you to fit and take him all. You were made for him, your cunt would wrap perfectly around his cock, even if it meant suffocating the life out of him. The weight of his cock nestled deep within your heat with his tip rubbing against your cervix earned him to first pulse and contraction before he felt warmth trickling down. Just his size was enough to give you your first orgasm. Clenching and spasming around his dick and making him hiss in excitement.

Your legs tightened around his waist as the pressure never ended. The hand that held his cock, travelled upwards to rest against your abdomen swallowing your stomach whole. With a gentle press, Manwë felt his cock lodged deep within and where it belonged. The outline was visible from both your angles; however, your eyes were busy being shut and taking in the stretching pain of your walls. You were waiting to be torn in half. Nothing in life could have prepared you for your first time with the Elder King. Everything about him was perfect and it was known from the mewls and whines you released in his ear. His nails on instinct, dug into the flesh of your ass, gripping the soft muscles and squeezing the remnants of it. You were more perfect in real life than some minor fantasy he conjured during his previous heats.

“My Lord...” you cried as you felt the pulsation from his cock, beating within your heat. You wished that he would move and not deny you the pleasure he promised. The young innocent maiden was still there, but she was borderline becoming a wild and ravenous woman.

“Little one, if I move, I'll break you. I can't have that ha—"

“—I don't care about being fragile. I want you to fuck me like you desire My King. Please, just give yourself to me...”

The sound of growls and wet skin slapping aggressively against each other echoed throughout the room. Moans mixed with mewls and cries for more as your hands dropped to press against your King's stomach, begging him to slow down while your legs did the opposite and tightened to suck him in urged Manwë to become more relentless. A quick slap to your hand as he snatched and them above your head, one hand cupping your ass and the other holding you prisoner.

A beautiful and haunting laugh ripped from his throat before he before his face to hover above yours, “Trying to run from what I'm giving dove, you asked for this? Your King is serving his Queen, you should be grateful.” His mouth swooped down to capture yours in a stormy dance of teeth and tongue. They clashed and collided against each other while his hips work their thunderous magic on your cunt. The obvious ring of cream coating his cock at the base told you that he was hungry for more. It was so beautifully created as it told the story of how the Elder King became one with his mate.

Your nipples were hardened as they rubbed against his chest, creating a delicious friction that made your cunt throb and tightened around his cock. The little stutter of his hips as he laughed at the action did nothing to deter his momentum. Your Vala had power for days as he sandwiched you between the stone wall and his muscular body. You couldn’t do anything as his hips and mouth worked their magic of leaving you beaten and battered. The way his cock would slide past your gummy walls, moulding and reshaping it to hug him perfectly as it was always meant to be had your brain delirious.

The diabolical and sinister slaps and rolls of his hips to make his cock punish your cervix had you babbling into his mouth nonstop. He loved that; he enjoyed the mess he was able to make of his Queen. Only a true mate who loved and worshipped his lover would give them the immense pleasure he condoned. He wanted to mould himself with you, reshape you and him so you would both fit each other like perfect pieces to a puzzle. He would give everything to you, and you would give everything to him.

The loud pita-patter of his heavy balls beating against your ass echoed brilliantly throughout the room as his cock drove with aggression in and out of your heat. For every cry of his name, his hips increased their motion until he was punishing and bruising your hips. Pounding away at your gummy walls, the feral grunts of his pleasure were sung into your ear the deeper his cock plunged past your mushy walls.

Dragging his lips away from your mouth leaving only a trail of saliva to hang, he locked eyes would your closed one and growled. The hands holding yours released them and gripped your cheeks, careful to not scratch you with his nails, “Eyes on me darling, look at me as I’m giving my all to you,” his hand gave a gentle shake to your face to get you to open your eyes but to no avail, you responded. He wasn’t pleased with the lack of attention on him as he was pouring his sweat into making you his. With ease, he forced himself to slow his hips, making the dragging off his cock snail's pace. It was enough to gain your attention with a whine and cry of his name, “Manwë—”

“—Ah, now that I have your attention little dove, eyes on me or I’ll stop,” his nostrils flared as he spoke with a storm in his eyes. If he was about to give you his seed, might as well incorporate some romantic themes into the sloppy, rough fuck he was delivering.

Keeping his hands on your cheeks, he watched as your eyes fluttered and fought to stay open as his hips regained their low and delirious pumping that made your head spin. The little starry and distant look he observed swelled his ego. You were sure that weeks and months after this fuck, you'd be feeling his cock stirring in your heat. Even right then, the notion of being fucked was so good by a god had a waterfall running from your legs and Manwë loved every second of it. The squelching with every slap of his thighs to your hips bruised your pelvis and left a delicious burn, “Just like that, eyes on me...good girl.”

Manwë's head had dipped to bury in your neck, quick to devour your scent and his. All that mattered to him was that you smelt like him during and after his heat. Nudging his nose and swiping his tongue to collect your taste, he growled in delight at the satisfaction of the sweetness he savoured. Your honeysuckle skin that smelt like spring's freshest cherry blossoms made his feral desires grow. The action of his heated tongue on your skin forced you to release harmonic pants and increase the flow of your arousal which led to the loud squelching of his cock pumping into you, “Manwë, ngh, please don't stop—right there...”

Your moans were increasing as his tempo grew and your fingers laced themselves into his hair, nails pressing into his scalp. At the action, Manwë’s head tossed back, leaving his neck open for assaulting and you took to opportunity to lean upwards to plant your lips upon his silky skin. Your tongue lapped at the water droplets, tasting the richness of the caramel his skin provided. You were hungry for the divine richness your godly lover provided, any inch of skin revealed to you, your mouth ran over leaving your own markings on him.

“Mmmh, sweetness, your mouth feels divine, but I would rather have it screaming my name, no?” within an instant, Manwë gathered you in his arms as waded through the water to the sides of the pool and placed you on the cold tile. For every powerful step he took, your walls trembled around his cock, clenching at the tip rubbing against your soft spot. You were resisting the dire urge to roll your eyes and become brain dead when he wasn't even fucking you at the moment.

You couldn’t help but shriek as the coldness seeped into your bones and moan right after as your King dragged your body down onto his cock. Manwë’s body towered over yours, arms and legs caging either side of your frame and enormous hands gripping the back of your thighs, spreading and pushing them to meet your head. His thick fingers pressed into the fatness of your thigh, squeezing at the plump flesh.

You couldn’t believe the position you were contorted into—like some wild common whore—but you weren’t complaining when you could feel the thick veins on his cock dragging along your spongy walls smoothly. The imprint of his cock was more visible in the noon daylight, shifting and tugging, doing everything it could to accommodate and mould you to take his cock and cum. Even the pressing weight of his massive body was doing its part in ensuring you stayed under him, where you belonged.

“So. Fucking. Perfect. And all for me,” folding you into a deeper mating press, his thighs slapped vigorously against your softer ones, leaving a series of red prints. Every thrust sent your eyes into your head, and it earned you growls to keep it open and on him. “Keep those eyes, open sweetness. Gonna take my cum and look so pretty. All round for me?” a hard thrust and you nearly slipped out of his grip, “running from me still? Uh, uh, darling. Can’t do that—gonna fuck you till you're full of my cum and cock.”

All your responses were endless babbling and nonsensical mumbling. Hands scraping for a grip as you slid across the tiles, struggling to beg for release and relief, your legs were cramping on you as your high was near. You could feel the second wave of pressure tightening in your core, but your hands were busy pushing against his abdomen to slow his sinful thrusts. All Manwë did was ignore and pressed on harder. If you could walk after, it would be Eru feeling sympathetic towards the mess you would become.

Your fucked out face and brain couldn’t comprehend a thing other than the rough pounding your godly lover was gifting. It was beyond a gift and dream to be trapped under the stature of a deity like the Elder King. To this moment, you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion of following along with his wishes. You were supposed to leave him in solidarity, not join him in fucking you senseless. Either way, the latter was proving to be the greatest life-changing moment.

“I can feel you...you’re close. Look at how she squeezes me, she wants my cum. She wants me to fill her up. Your cunt knows that she desires my seed,” the heavenly ghosting of his lips against the shell of your ears melted every last restraint and fibre of being you were made up of. The suction your lips had on his cock, refusing to let him go and tugging him back to coat more cream over his cock was heart-warming.

“P-Please My King don’t stop. Please f-fill me up,” you cried out to him at the last minute before you felt your walls seizing up and breaking down. The waterfall that burst through bested the one he had in his pool as you sprayed your release all over his abdomen, initiating a sinister growl from his chest. The look of awe and lust as he looked on at your mess prompted him to pick you up and sit you on his lap, bouncing you on his cock and fucking you through your orgasm. He had no remorse for stopping and giving you time to recuperate; he’d fuck you into another orgasm until your brain could take no more.

“I’m not stopping until you cum again for me darling, let me have a taste of you all over my cock. Go ahead and make a mess...I'll fuck you until I'm ready to stop, and I'm far from finished...”

His words made your heart leap for joy but also prompted every noise that slipped past your lips to become whiney. Being fucked senseless by a Godly being was a dream and wish come through. There was nothing that could wake you from this experience or that you would allow to interrupt your 'being fucked to perfection' session. Whimpering like you were also in heat, your King's name tumbled from your lips along with the most delirious statements that would never escape were you anywhere sober. But to Manwë, he wanted you to let loose and become one with him, he didn't care about how whiney or pathetically broken your cries and pleas was. All that mattered was that his mate was enjoying the pleasure he gave.

Riding your tiny figure on his cock, arms gripping your thighs and moving you up and down, you could feel the change in his girth the faster he guided you. The base of his cock was swelling with his seed, and it urged him you fuck you faster. Listening as you babbled for his cum, begging for him to stuff you full, placed a smile on his face. The more you cried, the further he sunk you down his cock, forcing the knot at the base of his cock to slip in. You weren’t aware of what was happening as the knot slipped in until the expansion began. A quick scramble as pain shot through you as your entrance widened around his cock but Manwë was too busy seductively tossing his head back to moan, feeling his release nearing.

“M-Manwë...” tossing your own head back as you squirmed at the growing knot, he was still bouncing you it and attempting to fuck you into another orgasm as promised. He was closer than you, the grips on your waist and sporadic thrusts screamed his release was near.

Your eyes widened before they rolled inwards at the volume of cum he pumped into you. A whorish like moan fell from your lips as you caved into his embrace. It was hot as it filled your insides like some dessert. He was stuffing you over the edge and leaving you satisfied. The growing bulge in your lower abdomen, a mixture of cock and cum, was round and swollen and still rising. Any second again and you could have sworn that you would pop.

A throaty moan was sung through the air as his cum offloaded into your womb. His right hand slipped off your waist to press against. Your eyes rolled back inside your head at the extra growing sensation prompting your body to convulse and tremble profusely. The plug-like knot at the base grew until it felt stuck to ensure that not one ounce of his cum escaped. However, it was the expansion of your muscles around the knot that urged you to cry out, catching Manwë's attention.

The air between then and now shifted to the aftermath of the storm as Manwë eyes softened at your discomfort and were quick to tug you into his arms, rubbing your back. “Shush, shush, I know, I know little dove. It hurts and I’m sorry for causing you pain. It was not my intention,” he cooed into your wet hair, cheeks pressed against it and inhaling his scent that now mingled among yours.

His wings couldn’t help but appear at that moment, puffed and white, encasing you both as he held you close to him, shutting out the rest of the world. For years he’s been wanting to claim you as his. Watching and yearning for you during his heats, lying like his herald and claiming to go on trips to the mountains during spring all because he was fearful of scaring you into a level of commitment that required time and effort.

“It h-hurts,” you still cried into his chest feeling like a child clinging to his massive form. Your voice snapped him out of his paradise and caused small tears to build in the corner of his eyes. Soft coos and pats to your back and head were delivered as Manwë attempted to soothe the burning stretch of his knot. He tried to shift his hips slowly, grinding your lips around his knot to flex the muscles so accommodation could be more comfortable. Manwë knew that it was a relief to have you here, but it was also a mistake, his heat was still four more days to go. You being here meant never leaving until he was finished, and even then, the urge to build a nest and keep you safe and secure was important. You were trapped with your bird lover for weeks.

“I’m sorry you had to experience this for your first time little dove, I don’t know what came over me. You were just so...” instead of finishing off his statement, not wanting to seem so easily swooned, Manwë opted to let his words fall and continue to comfort you.

“Manwë...what's happening?” your small voice rang out to him while you resisted the urge to cry out. His body had stopped pumping cum into you and now it was simply his mixture relaxing in your womb.

“…Uh, how do I put this. You know, I have wings and avian tendencies...and like birds, I experience most of their habits like this one,” he was biting his nails and clawing at his brain explaining this to you. It felt like explaining how babies are created to a child.

“This? What do you mean by this Manwë? I’m not following,” lifting your head off his chest, you peered at him with doe eyes, glossy and innocent as if he didn’t rearrange your insides minutes ago.

Huffing and puffing, his wings couldn’t help but curl in closer to keep you from escaping should the response frighten you, “What we just did little dove was...mate. I mated with you the way birds do during spring. I bonded with you...for life.” His fell and silence took over the room. The only sounds were the merry chirping of the birds, singing about the union and rustling waters in the pool. Your breathing was quiet as was his as you remained seated in his lap. His feathers were tense and shut as he awaited some negative outburst knowing that you were a person who preferred to be told things beforehand.

“Oh,” you grinned at him before dipping your head to look at where you two were connected and blushed. The way he was perfectly nestled and lodged had you questioning your abilities. Since when you could take a cock that big?

“I love you; you know that. I love you with all that I am,” his large hands rose to cup your face and lifted it to meet his lips. Small pecks across your face he littered while letting out small coos of joy and contentment. Your laughter and squeals could be heard through the affectionate gesture.

“I believe we should clean up first though,” you stated while interrupting his affections.

“Clean up? Why should we clean up?” there was a distinctive shift in his voice as it changed from Manwё to his predatory side.

“Because we’re sweaty and I’m...you know, filled with your cum,” your voice dipped and lowered at the last part, afraid of any birds picking up on the conversation.

Leaning forward with a lustful smirk playing on his lips, Manwë easily removed himself off the floor with you still in his arms and walked over to the bed on the opposite side of the room. Ever so gently, he climbed onto the bed and laid himself on his back while you straddled his hips. Hands sprawled out on his chest while his knees crooked upwards, Manwë stared at you with hunger in his eyes before spreading, “If you’re so worried about being stuffed with my cum, I’ll just fill you with more because we aren’t leaving this room anytime soon.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @starborne066 @singleteapot @cilil @edensrose

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aeonianarchives · 1 year

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Favorite elf + Reader have a date at a frozen lake and the reader is in a silly goofy mood and is slipping and sliding everywere and the elf catches them.

Anon why do you have to make me pick a favorite elf boy so Instead i pick top six which would work well with this and add the Valar I write for, because who doesn't want to be caught by them.

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings | @aetherofthepen

Valar Tag: @edensrose

Finrod:

"Are you sure this is safe" The King Questioned as you stood on the frozen lake

"Not 100% sure but 20% sure it holds the weight I doubt it will break and we will catch each other if we slip" you said

"You pulled me out of Nargothrond for this" Finrod said as he took your hand and stepped onto the ice

"Yeah so" you questioned him

"It's so stupid and I love it" Finrod said

"You fell in a fountain for me of course you love it" you said getting further away from him you took a run up a very slippary run up and skidded the rest of the way to the middle of the pound maybe sliding on ice was better with knifes on your feet you though as you slipped around trying to stabilize yourself only to be caught in the chest of Finrod

"Thanks" You said as you feet slid away from you and Finrod set you down gently on the ice you span around to face him and ended going to far the rest of the day was full of him falling on the ice or you falling into him.

Maeglin:

"Are you sure I can impress Idril with this" Maeglin said crossing his arms

"Yeah totally" you said as if it wasn't a total ploy for you to slip into him and 'accidentally' kiss him as much as you hated to admit it to the Lord of the Golden Flower and the lord of the Heavenly Arch you had fallen for the Dark elf's son.

Given the cold weather the lake had frozen over, you managed to tempt him out of his hole given you happened to befriend him which shocked all the Lords of Gondolin and the King, it was actually quite easy.

You almost slipped when you stepped onto the ice but you caught Maeglin's hand which he reached out for you "Be careful idiot" The dark haired elf grumbled you helped him onto it, he managed to walk pretty normally on it compared to you

"Stop sliding around you'll fall and hurt yourself" Maeglin said only for you to slid into him toppling you both over and you ended up kissing him you both heard a squeal from the edge of the ice and laughing.

"This is not what it looks like Idril" Maeglin said as he pushed you off him

"But you are so cute together I am glad you finally found someone and gave up on me you are unaware of how long Y/n has been hiding their feelings for you I am glad you both finally found eachother" Idril said

"If you would have me can we" You questioned

"Fine" Maeglin said finally giving up on Idril you grinned and kissed him again

Glorfindel:

"Come on" you said pulling Glorfindel with you

"Wait for a second I wish to be warm" Glorfindel said

"You will be warm you will be moving around you don't need that many layers don't over do it, don't blame me if they make the ice crack beneath you and you fall in" you said as you dragged Glorfindel down to the lake

"What if I tie blades onto my shoes" Glorfindel said

"Please don't be that stupid, I love you but that is way to stupid" you said as you got onto the ice, Glorfindel happened to join you in your antics but when he caught you in return you missed catching him back making him land on his ass you both stayed awefully still as a concerning crack formed before the ice below Glorfindel started tipping and dumped the blond into the water you managed to get away with nothing but one of your legs falling in once when running away from the cracks Glorfindel pulled himself out making you laugh

"You looked like a soaked rat" You laughed

"Come give me a hug Meleth" Glorfindel said

"OH HELL NO" you said running the blonde chased after you

"ELROND HELP ME I WILL NEVER INSULT YOU AND YOUR HALF ELVEN HERITAGE OR ADOPTED PARENTS AGAIN" you yelled as you ran into the house

"ERESTOR, ELLADAN, ELROHIR, GILDOR ANYONE HELP ME FROM THIS DROWNED RAT" You yelled

"It's your own fault, deal with your consequences" Erestor said ignoring you the blonde did managed to capture you in a hug but you got a warm bath with him out of it so it didn't end badly

Erestor:

You grinned as you tempted the advisor onto the ice "This isn't very safe" Erestor muttered under his breath

"Oh come on you promised to take me to the frozen lake" You said

"I was unaware you ment to get on it for entertainment" Erestor grumbled as he came to you you grabbed his arm and pulled him to you

"But you love me so you don't care" you said as you watched fear flash across his face as he slid towards you

"yes but this is dangerous, the ice could crack and we could fall in, one of us can gain a concussion" Erestor said you kissed him to shut him up

"Shhh, just stop thinking and have some fun, relax a bit" You said as you skid away Erestor followed you cautiously and slowly you skid around him before slipped right into him.

"As I said this is dangerous lets get off the ice" Erestor said as he lead you of the ice before he slipped he let go of your had and slid into a pile of snow at the edge of the lake you held in a laugh as he poked his head out and shook the snow off him

"Can we just get back to house now please" Erestor grumbled

"Sure" you said before joining him in the snow

Elrond:

Elrond watched out of his window as you slipped and sided up and down the pound every so often coming dangerously close to injury the Lord decided to join you by the pound side to make sure if you do get injured he was there to help you.

You didn't need to slip anywhere sure ice was slippery but you could easily walk across it fine "Elrond hey" you said as you slid passed him

"What brings you here" You questioned

"You" Elrond said catching you from having your face colid with the ice

"Play times over Meleth time to go inside and warm up you are not fully elven and your mortal traits outweigh your elvish ones I do not wish for you to gain a cold" Elrond said

"My only elvish trait is immortality" You said

"Exactly my point you get get sick if you are out in the cold to long"

"Fine" You said allowing Elrond to Bring you Inside

Manwë:

When you first came to Manwë with the idea of 'playing' on the ice he was fully against it he was still fully against it but you had taken his no and ignored it somehow making it a yes he would join you he had almost slipped a few times but his wings saved him.

"You are going to hurt yourself, do not come crying to me when you inevitably do" Manwë said as you slid passed him

"You got to admit this is fun" You said back to the Valar

"Sure if you want to say it is" Manwë said as you collided into him making him lose his balanced his wings manically flapped so neither of you fell down onto the ice which somehow worked you glanced up to the king who was giving you an I told you so face.

"Don't say it" you said looking down in shame

"How about we get back and cuddle if you wish" Manwë said making you grin and agree

Irmo:

"So you are saying I am your third choice" Irmo said

"Hey it would of been funny if the other two agreed that's the only reason why you are third my love" you said

"Fair I am still offended you didn't think I would also like to see Manwë and Namo slip on ice" Irmo said you laughed

"I would of come and got you" You said

"So now i am the subject of your prank" Irmo said

"No don't twist my words" you said funnily enough you never slipped on the ice with Irmo because he made an illusion of it as he though the real thing was far to harmful and knowing your clumsy self you would fall

Mandos:

"No" Mandos said

"Come on why not" You questioned

"I have elves to watch I can't take a break from them" Namo said pointing to the Fëanorian's

"Plus it's dangerous you will just hurt yourself" Namo said

"Fine" You pouted but set yourself in his lap

"You can't move until you say yes so if they do anything to bad you have to say yes to me" You said

"You are not going to make me say yes with Black mail" Namo said

"uh huh sure" You said.

Namo frowned at how he got here he had pushed your black mail to the side of his mind and got caught of guard, you attempted to spin but ended up knocking into Mandos

"So you can't leave my arms for long it seems" Namo teased you which made you frown

"Oh shut up" You groaned as he carried you off the ice

"Hey go back right now" You said

"No I can't leave the Children or you unsupervised" Namo said

"Did you just call me a child" You questioned

"You are child sized" Namo said it was true you were the height of his 'problem children' elves

"Your so mean" You groaned lightly punching his chest

"Sure I am" Namo responded with

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