for your love triangle 1k event, can i request a oneshot of melkor x reader x mairon - polygamous - “if you both keep hogging the blankets I’m kicking you both out of bed”? love love your work btw!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 1k event: love triangle
( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ melkor, mairon ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔
· ⊰ synopsis. angband was always typically cold thanks to melkor's presence. the least he could do was compensate for the iciness you have to deal with
· ⊰ note. thank you sm!! I honestly got really soft with this but it's fine bc soft dark lords for the win 💕
“Melkor,’’
“. . . Melkor.’’
“Melkor!”
“Mm?” A single, violet hue cracks open and spares you a glance. “What is it. . . Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He manages through a yawn as his arm extends to stretch. “I am sure it has barely even been an hour. . . go to bed,’’ the sigh barely escapes his lips as he’s caught off-guard from the swat to his shoulder.
“I cannot sleep if you insist on hogging the blanket.’’ With a frown clear on your features, your eyes narrow further when his head lolls back onto the pillow, clearly disinterested in your plight. “Melkor - hey!’’ You swat his shoulder again, this time bringing forth a deep groan from the vala who struggles to open his eyes once more.
“If you are so cold why not take Mairon’s blanket? I’m tired.’’
“Do you not think that I have tried?”
It is then that Melkor focuses his vision blurred from sleep and takes notice of the lump of fabric curled up on your alternative side. Contrary to popular belief, the Lieutenant of Angband could be quite the heavy sleeper — perhaps a result of his strenuous work day in and day out.
The dark lord exhales and with great effort brings his hand up to push at Mairon’s shoulder. “Oi. Mairon, get up and give Y/N some blanket.’’
All he receives is a quiet hum, a dismissal, before the maia curls in further. It is then that Melkor, with many complaints, rises from his side of the bed with his pillow in tow. “Mairon. Get. U-’’ It appeared that he underestimated his level of exhaustion coupled with his balance, as Melkor soon came crashing down upon you — drawing a squeak straight from your chest.
“Melkor!’’ You rasped, hands pushing at broad shoulders. “Get off! You are too heavy!” “Damnit. . . Can the two of you ever remain silent?” A pair of amber hues meet yours, albeit weary, they narrowed in the slightest. “What is the issue now?”
“He’s crushing me!”
“My lord!”
Mairon’s eyes gape at the realisation and his hands shoot out to shove his master off, receiving a groan as the vala sits up in an attempt to recollect his thoughts. You are left whining, curling inwards and you attempt to ignore the pain in your stomach, in-turn curling into Mairon and accepting his naturally warm radiance.
“How many blankets do you even need?’’ Melkor grumbles, sideways glancing at his lieutenant hooking an arm around your waist and peppering a few kisses along your neck. “We have three,’’ you sighed, melting into the gentle touch. “You stole two, how am I supposed to sleep with the threat of morphing into an ice block?”
“Well, I need the blankets. I’m cold.’’ “You are always cold,’’ Mairon rolls his eyes to the ceiling with his hands cupped at your waist. “Keep talking back and I may just kick you out.’’ Melkor sends a glare his way, followed by your own — which the two found amusing as it was in less degree when compared to the dark lord’s. “Do not speak as though you are innocent. He may have stolen the two but you took my last hope,’’ pertaining to the blanket coiled around him, you frown.
“It is as though the two of you wish for me to freeze to death.’’ You sigh with a subtle shake of head. “You know, if you both keep stealing the blankets I will have no choice but to kick you both out of bed.’’
It is now Melkor’s turn to roll his eyes as he lowers himself to rest on his arm. “I doubt someone with such tiny legs could manage to move me,’’ to emphasise his point, a cold finger runs up the aforementioned limb and leaves you squeaking once more.
“Melkor you little - !”
“Little what, hmm?” The cold fingers now wrap around your chin and force you to face him. The arch of his brow leaves you silent, however, your glare remains. “My point still stands. The least you can do is try and compensate for me.’’
Mairon hums, following your shifted form so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder. “You know. . . if the cold bothers you so much — I can think of a few ways to warm you up.’’
Your cheeks burn, eyes fluttering when a deep chuckle rumbles from Melkor’s throat. “Really? I think we may have had the same thought.’’ With Mairon’s arms around your waist, Melkor’s hands soon find your sides and bring you closer. “What do you say? Since you hate the cold oh so much.’’
Pursing your lips, you duck your head, swat his chest and squirm from Mairon’s hold before snatching one of the sheets and pulling it over.
“You are both jerks.’’
“We know,’’
“. . . I still love you.’’
“We know.’’
And with that, they lay back down and bundle you within embrace.
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Ok, I have another confession.. I feel like Melkor is a person to unfairly use his dark powers to make his lover senses dulled. If the lover can hear then melkor will surround them in pitch blackness to not be able to see, if they can smell then they aren't able to hear in the darkness he makes around them. He loves taking away some seneses to tease you or play with you until you start begging for him to stop.
melkor can be so incredibly cruel when it comes to you and this factor. sometimes he'll make sure you're bound completely, gagged, blindfolded, and of course — consumed by the darkness that takes your smell and hearing. he wants you to focus on the pleasure and the pain that he gives you and that alone. one of his favourite things to do is drive you to overstimulation when he has you in this state — because it is so much more intense
hearing you beg for his mercy or him to let up on the endless darkness gets him off too, not to mention the fact of how utterly helpless you look. bending to his every will.
hello! congrats on the 1k <3!!! on that topic, here’s my request for the event:
how about an angsty, one-shot love triangle with morgoth and mairon?
morgoth finds out about the reader that mairon is seeing (perhaps mairon met the reader during his time disguised as annatar—if that gives a bit more background), so mairon is pleading with morgoth to not harm the reader. but morgoth doesn’t seem dissuaded at all, rather this fuels him with ambitious darker intent towards the reader ^^;;
dialogue prompts to go w/ it [if it interests you]: “don’t you dare.” “you are my lord, so i beg of you.” “tell me, do you see yourself dying for them?”
· ⊰ synopsis. you were the lover of mairon, one of the most precious things in his life. the last thing he expected was for that love to be his only weakness ( some choking ៸៸ angst )
· ⊰ note. thank you! let me tell you I absolutely LOVED this concept, this entire oneshot was so fun to write
“Such a pretty little thing,’’
Shivers run up your spine as icy fingers trace the line of your jaw, dipping below your chin and bringing your head up to face him. You yelp as the chain connecting your wrists is yanked, hauling you flushed an equally as frigid body. The fingers now wrap around your chin and force you to face forward so that you meet a pair of constricted amber irises. “Wouldn’t you say, Mairon? Isn’t she a pretty little thing?”
“My lord. . .’’ His eyes trail off of you only for a moment in favour of meeting his master’s look, who sat upon his iron throne with pride. A large, pale figure, shrouded in miasma, pouring with darkness. He held the chain that restrained your wrists and kept you under his mercy.
Oh, foolish little thing - what have you gotten yourself into?
“Hmm? Why do you look at me like that? Do you disagree?” Another chill strikes your skin as his lips find your cheek and his grip tightens further around your jaw. “I think she’s the perfect little thing. A wonderful pet —”
“Do not touch her!”
Mairon’s hands clench, nails digging into his palms as he dares to step closer towards his master, let alone raise his voice. Once more, a yelp leaves your lips as you are tossed to the side — yet before the maia can even think of rushing to your aid, he is towered over by the dark lord himself.
“Would you like to repeat that?” You didn’t like how calm his voice was, how steady it remained despite the obvious flame lit within his eyes as he stared down his lieutenant. Mairon hesitates, summoning every ounce of patience he could possibly muster before clearing his throat. “My lord. . . do not hurt her — please.’’
It wasn’t certain whether his words appeased Melkor or simply drove him deeper into his ocean of rage. For while a smirk stretched across his greyish lips, the fire within his eyes was yet to be snuffed out. “Oh, isn’t this a treat?” The vala chuckles as hands clasp behind his back. “And here I thought she meant nothing to you, Mairon. Is that not what you told me when I asked of her?’’
He meets your gaze once more. Yes, that was exactly what he had told Melkor. In fear of his lord possibly hunting you down to teach him a lesson for ‘growing soft’ - Mairon had blatantly rebuked your name in this very throne room. He should have known the second Melkor asked about you. . . he should have warned you, told you to flee. Yet here you were now, bound by the hands and alongside Melkor’s throne — unable to do a thing other than watch the scene at hand.
“I honestly expected more of you, yet you were foolish enough to think that you could lie to me. . . Such a shame, the poor girl will have to pay with her life.’’
“Don’t!” Mairon lifts his head to stare at his master, a pleading look clear as day within his eyes that reflected molten core. “Please, she does not deserve this - it was my own doing. Please leave her be.’’ His mannerisms left you stiff — this may have well been the very first time you have seen your lover in such a state, heard him plead. You knew Mairon like the back of your hand, you knew how proud he was.
Yet here he stood now: pleading on your account.
“Oh,’’ a deep chuckle arises from the dark lord as he halts in stride. “This must have been the first time I have heard you beg, Mairon.’’ Fingers play with a few strands of auburn hair, twirling the fiery tresses between them as a grin etched across his face. “Do it again. Beg for me to spare her.’’ And when the maia refused to move, he scoffed. “I don’t think you heard me. . . I said —’’
In an instant, his tall figure was beside yours once more with a hand tight around your throat and yanking you upwards. The air’s knocked out of your lungs, you kick and squirm with hands shooting to his wrist in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “Melkor!” “Beg!”
His voice thunders throughout the room, bouncing off of the walls and leaving you yelping once more as your body automatically flinches away. Slowly but surely, the world became a blur with your focus entirely on Mairon who now stood there with widened eyes and an expression you had never witnessed before.
“I won’t repeat myself again, Mairon.’’ The dark lord narrows his gaze and altogether restricts your airways. “Lest you’d want me to snap this dainty little neck of hers.’’
There’s silence in the room, not a breath, not a peep — all you saw was Mairon. Panic spread across his features and a shimmer of fear evident in his eyes. He clears his throat, taking a hesitant step forward. “My lord, please. Spare her.’’ “Oh come on, you can do better than that.’’ His eyes widen at the black pigment seeping into the skin of your neck and he quickly fell to his knees.
“My lord please!’’ Mairon’s hands find the stone ground. “It was I that lied to you, me who defied you! She has nothing to do with this, please. Punish me instead — hurt me in her stead! I will take whatever your hand may deal tenfold!’’ You try to choke out his name, to shake your head and tell him to stop; but his gaze locks with yours. Sorrow, remorse. You swore he mouthed an apology, yet your eyes were losing vision too rapidly to be sure.
“Please,’’ his voice breaks, shattering your heart in the process. “She is the woman I love. . . If I have found any favour in you, spare her.’’
Silence bled into the room once more, deafening, hollow, it almost left your ears bleeding as you struggled for the sweet relief of air — which was soon granted to you as a dark, booming laugh echoed through the walls of Angband. Melkor threw his head back, letting up his grip only slightly while Mairon dropped his vision to the floor. Unable to bear looking up as ire filled him to the brim.
“I must say, I’m surprised. You? Love?” His laugh melts into a deep, sinister chuckle. “You truly have grown weak. . . To think. A lieutenant of Angband, on his knees and begging for the sake of love. It’s almost profound.’’ Although his grip had loosened the dark patterns continued to fester around your skin, albeit blind to your eye — but certainly not Mairon’s who felt his heart fall deeper into the pit of his stomach.
“Tell me,’’ he drops you to your feet yet keeps a firm hold around your throat. With your back to his front, he ensures that your crying face is in full view of the maia who you now had to witness tremble further. “Do you see yourself dying for them?’’ The dark pigment grows, coating the entirety of your neck and tickling your jaw. It’s harder to breathe, it burns. And when you cry out — the little dignity that Mairon had left melted away in an instant.
“I would!’’ He couldn’t care less of the sting in his eyes nor the way his expression twisted into one of utter terror. “I would do whatever it is to ensure her safety! My lord, name your price for her security and I will gladly give it to you. Whether it is my head — if I am able to give it, I shall.’’
Your tears fall faster as your knees tremble at the scorching feeling consuming your throat. “M-Mairon,’’ you barely manage to choke while your attempt at shaking your head falls flat. “Mairon n -’’ “Anything, you say?” Once more, the silence brings an immense wave of dread to crash upon your heart. Your brows furrow at the tightening of his grip yet again and for a moment a part of you thinks he’ll simply snap your neck and put an end to all of this.
Oh, but how wrong you were. For when you felt a pair of cold lips grace your lips again, you knew that whatever was to proceed was certain disaster. “Well. . . How about her?’’ Mairon stiffens at this proposal, praying to valar that he heard wrong.
“What?”
“I want her, Mairon.’’
The maia’s shoulders tremble and a burning feeling engulfs his lungs. “M-My lord. . .” “You said anything to guarantee her safety, correct? Give her to me and I’ll ensure she’s in good health. I always treat my pets oh so well.’’ You flinch away at the feel of his tongue swiping up your cheek and licking away a dripping tear. “What do you say? You wish for her wellbeing, do you not?”
Your eyes meet Mairon’s for the last time, clearly seeing every single, raw, shattered emotion shining within them. He’s conflicted, frightened. Should he leave you to the dark lord? Lose you? Or should he refuse and lose you in a much greater sense?
But as the darkness threatened to consume the rest of your face and your features twisted with agony — he had his answer.
With his heart in his hands Mairon sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, head lowering and auburn tresses dangling like a curtain to shield his shame. With one, final apology below his breath — he speaks with great strain.
ʚ cw : yandere themes ៸៸ dark themes ៸៸ possessive bahviour ៸៸ strangulation ៸៸ burning ៸៸ dark themes in general viewer discretion advised
ʚ summary : you were once the maia of melkor before his decent into darkness. having faced vast horrors, you thought to have escaped his madness and long fled valinor, instead settling down and taking on the life of an elf. your darkest nightmare, however, is soon to return.
“Melkor. . .’’
Tall as ever, he stood before you — the man from your memories, the one who haunted your dreams and everyday life since the day he fled the holy lands. He who lingered in the deepest crevices of your mind once hoped to be nothing but a nightmare now before your very eyes once more.
“Good to know you still remember me, little songbird.’’
The name brings shivers to your spine and strikes you straight in the heart, knocking the air from your lungs momentarily. “You. . . Why are you -’’ His step forward sends you back on instinct, eyes gaping at he who now donned the title of Dark Lord. “What’s this? Are you afraid?” He muses, knowing damn well that fear took over every nerve from head to toe within you. The vala could practically see it: the monochromatic flashes clouding your vision as scenes of the past filled your sight and brought a quake to your knees.
“My little songbird, have I ever put you in harm's way?”
“You know damn well what you have done!” Choking on tears you stumble back further in a frantic attempt to flee his ever-growing shadow cast upon you with each step, what would have been a few for him yet given his height brought him closer to you with just three or four. “How did you find me? How did -’’
Realisation bashes you like a metal bat and an icy feel takes over your form entirely. “Eston. . .’’ The name of your husband falls from your lips in a faint whisper as dread fills you to the brim. “Where is he - Where is he!?’’ A yelp cuts you off as a firm arm unceremoniously hauls you after looping about your waist.
“The damn elf? Why does it matter to you?”
“He is my husband!” Two hands push against his dark-cladded chest, thrashing in protest against his hold. “So I suppose I caught the right one. I must say I’m almost insulted that you replaced me with that eyesore.’’ Tears cloud your eyes, conscious working a thousand horrific images into your mind of where your precious ellon was now, in what condition. “Where is he!? Eston - Eston!” Perhaps if he is in this fortress of madness he would hear your shout?
Unfortunately, the plan falls flat and your fearful yell abruptly morphs into a croak at the tight squeeze to your neck. Strain finds your muscles as Melkor’s large hand wraps around your throat and altogether drags you upwards to that the tips of your toes barely touch the ground. “Stop,’’ he barely manages the first word out before it's consumed by a guttural snarl straight from the depths of hell.
“Stop calling his name.’’
“Mel -’’ clinging to his wrist you feebly try to claw at his skin and obtain the air oh so cruelly stolen from your lungs. “That’s it,’’ he croons, leaning in ever so slightly. “My name should be the only thing on those pretty little lips, my songbird.’’ The Dark Lord exhales before granting you just an ounce of mercy with a bare loosening of his grip, enough to allow tidbits of your voice.
“Please,’’ you weren’t sure who that was directed to — the man who held your life in the palm of his hands or to every divine being in existence? A trembling, frightful plea for mercy, for refuge from this grim dream morphing into a cruel reality.
Yet all your pathetic little whimper did was ignite a flame within him as amusement clouded his pale violet hues. “I’ve missed the way you used to sing for me. Won’t you do it again, won’t you sing for me?”
Cries rip through the room at the scalding feel encircling your neck, gaping your eyes and eliciting your thrashing limbs once more. It burns — it burns. And all he does is curl his lips at your agony and lean in to run his tongue along the trail of tears cascading down your face. “Melkor - ! M-My lord!” He practically groans with delight, that’s exactly what he’s been trying to get out of you. How long has it been since he had his pretty little maia in his clutches? Centuries? It didn’t matter, you had all the time in the world now.
“It’s been far too long, hmm?’’ He drawls, flushing his fingers further against your burning flesh, relishing in the symphony of your screams. “No matter, now that you are mine again I’ll see fit to catch up on all our lost time. Does that not delightful To be mine again?”
Melkor scoffs, you still had the gal to shake your head? “Accept it, my darling songbird.’’ Your body hits the floor, curling as hands fly to your scarred throat, bleeding and burnt. The shadow remains, thoroughly driving the cold, hard facts into your head. “If you don’t. . . you are going to regret it.’’
I’ve been soooo excited for your Melkor content 🤭 there just isn’t enough out there 😔 ❤️ kissing headcanons for Melkor?😘
( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ melkor ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔
· ⊰ synopsis. how melkor kisses his s/o
· ⊰ note. hehe well dear, I hope I don't disappoint then ~ here we go, first melkor request <3
ʚ Does not know the meaning of personal space, especially when it comes to kisses. Melkor's hands are all over you, majority of the time grabbing your waist, sometimes burying into your hair — particularly he enjoys cupping one of his hands over your throat, giving you little squeezes here and there just to mess with you
ʚ Loves kissing you when you least expect it and especially as a way to 'shut you up' if you're going off of him for another one of his reckless notions. One moment you are ranting and raving, the next: he's grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in or slipping a hand beneath your jaw and turning your head before pressing his lips to yours — and don't expect him to let up until you're weak in the knees and have forgotten exactly what it is you were angry over
ʚ There is quite the height gap between you and him; he uses this to his advantage, especially if he wishes to see you flustered. Melkor traps in corners, hoists you up against walls, all whilst kissing you and taking your very breath away. He knows damn well of his strength in comparison to yours and always has little ways such as this of showing your power differences
ʚ Favourite spot other than your lips? Your neck and jaw, he can feel the way your pulse picks up and he gets a kick out of it. Alternatively, this also applies to your inner wrist
ʚ Lip. Biting. I'm not saying any more
ʚ Melkor adores when you bury your hands into his hair and tug during a kiss — not that he'll ever admit to it, though. You caught on once or twice considering he often shudders a little at it
ʚ Does not give two fucks who is around, he'll kiss you when and where he feels like. To him, it's almost like his little display of a claim. They can watch, sure, but you're his and his alone
ʚ Not really one for soft or lackluster kisses, every one of them is brimming with passion. At most you'll get the rare tired kiss in which it's toned down a little, but otherwise don't expect anything less from him
ʚ Again, he will never admit this but he loves when you kiss the nape of his neck
ʚ Can and will point out if you're blushing, usually followed by a small pinch of your cheek or making you maintain eye contact with him. He's a little tease like that
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· ⊰ synopsis. nsfw headcanons with melkor and his s/o ( minors dni ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ biting ៸៸ degradation ៸៸ name calling )
· ⊰ note. but of course ~
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ʚ Melkor has a marking kink hands down. Not only does he love seeing your expression twist but he enjoys using this as a way to show that you belong to him. Due to this your neck is obviously is favourite place to cover in bites. He makes sure that you leave it completely exposed too so that everyone can see your skin covered in a plethora of teeth marks
ʚ Degradation. So much degradation. He’s not one for soft words or gentle nicknames. Every name he calls you is meant to re-instil your position - below him. Loves using your own pleasure against you as it ties into another one of his kinks: erotic humiliation
ʚ Doesn’t care about pda whatsoever. There have been multiple times in which he took you right in front of his servants. If anything, it eggs him on - as he adores showing people that you are his and his alone
ʚ Usually the one to be on top but if he’s feeling particularly lazy and sadistic, he’ll let you ride him on his throne. Where does the sadistic part come in? Well, he wouldn’t provide you any aid and instead let you struggle on your own. Threatening to punish you if you don’t do well in satisfying him. It’s a double win on his end. He gets to see your expression twist, heard your pathetic little whimpers and begs. And in the end, he’ll still have a ‘reason’ to punish you
ʚ Choking, breath play in general. It’s another little thing that shows you he’s in control. He’ll make it even more difficult pressing his lips to yours all whilst his hand remains around your throat
ʚ One of his go-to’s is cunnilingus. Melkor loves the way you squirm and cry out whilst he fucks you on his tongue. This is one of his punishments - as pleasurable as it may be it’s one of his main ways of overstimulating you. It is only until you’re begging with tears pouring down your cheeks from bliss and exhaustion that he’ll stop
ʚ Overstimulation and edging go hand in hand. He’ll deny each and every one of your orgasms for who knows how long - only to overstimulate you until you are an utter mess. If you try to beg him to go easier on you he’ll simply laugh and mock you. “What? I thought you wanted to cum? Then cum for me, again and again, and again.’’
ʚ Stamina and libido are beyond the max. You are worn out and on the verge of passing out by the time he’s done with you
ʚ Loves it when you’re vocal and will do everything in his power to make sure you are saying his name - loud and clear for everyone to hear, just so they know who’s the one fucking you
·⊰ 𝓵𝔂𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽 : imagine being the wife of manwë and melkor tries to win you over ( insistent behaviour? )
“oh, what’s with that look?”
your brow twitches, gaze steeling as the recently plucked flower rests between pale fingers, twirling before you. “must you look at me as though I’m the epitome of everything wrong in the world?”
“is that supposed to be a joke, melkor?’’ after scoffing you push his hand to the side, carelessly disregarding his ‘gift’. “do not think for a second that just because you claim to have turned over a new leaf that all is forgiven. you still lack the honour of speaking with me.’’
your words mattered not for they only appeared to further egg him on and feed his grinning countenance. “fiesty as ever. my brother truly isn’t keeping you in line huh.’’ “whatever goes on between your brother and me is none of your business. now, if you would excuse me.’’ having enough of this conversation you turned on heel and proceeded to walk away.
your relationship with the once dark lord had always been on the complicated side, even before his corruption. the last place you wanted to be was anywhere around him, for you knew his ulterior motives. it had been quite literally since the beginning of time; his pursuit for you.
“now, where do you think you are going?”
a yelp flees your lips as an icy sensation encircles your wrist and suddenly you’re hauled right back. “melkor!’’ the gasp is cut short once you realise that your body flushes right up against his. before you could stop the heat from rising to your cheeks you realise that you’re already blushing and altogether hitch your breath.
“so flustered. . . he really must not be satisfying you.’’ irritation licks at your core as you attempt to yank your wrist back. “do not speak ill of my husband -” “husband, you say it with such pride. . . but I see it in your eyes, clear as day.’’
he leans in, prompting every muscle within you to grow rigid. “tell me, have you any idea what you are missing out on?” you suck a breath, snapping your head to the side as cold fingers take a lock of your hair between them.
“melkor. . . let go of me.’’ comes your shaky breath.
“no, I don’t think I will.’’ he rejects.
he releases your wrist in favour of circling you like a stalking predator, pale violet analysing each and every one of your reactions. “I almost feel pity. you could be having the time of your life and yet you would rather remain with that stiff-neck.’’
a shivered gasp flees your lips as the chilly presence now flushes against your back and the cold touch returns to your skin. “oh, how precious,’’ he tuts, hands finding your shoulders. “you could have so much more. . .” his fingers trace up, cupping below your jaw as lips find your ear.
“so much fun. if you were mine.’’
you’re stiff, mind turning into mush yet racing concurrently. He is right up against you, breath fanning your neck, fingers flushed upon your skin. but soon sense knocks you in the head and you jerk away, spinning to face him and bringing a hand to your chest.
“leave, melkor.’’ you quake. “now.’’
he sighs, only to chuckle and take a step closer. “if you insist. . .’’ the flower is tucked behind your ear as he shoots you one final smirk before finally walking on and leaving you alone. trembling and gaze dropping to the ground.
his cold touch lingered still, sending shivers to your spine as you do everything in your power to forget whatever had just occurred, forget his words, that face of his.
Melkor and his s/o’s first time meeting? Love your work👍
( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ melkor ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔
· ⊰ synopsis. he had always seen you scampering around, he found you cute. however, it was only when a council of the valar led to him officially meeting you that he knew the extent of how endearing you were
· ⊰ note. thank you! here you go, I hope you enjoy. I gave it a little plot that's been in my head hehe
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ʚ You were a maia of Manwë, however, you had only officially been noticed by Melkor after his first capture; when he dwelled in the lands of Valinor once more as he was given a ‘second chance’
ʚ You had heard many stories of the once dark lord, especially from his brother whom you served, those of which were positive and sorrowful, whereas some of the other valar such as Mandos spoke of him in a far different light. As to be expected, Manwë was his brother after all - of course he would have contradicting opinions when it came to Melkor
ʚ However, you had no interest in actually going out of your way to meet him one-on-one. You had your duties, being the maia of the literal king of the valar was far from an easy role
ʚ But you had caught his eye, he had seen you running around and carrying out your duties so enthusiastically. To him you were like a little mouse - he almost found it amusing
ʚ Your official meeting was when you felt a strange presence in your vala’s home and immediately sought it out - knowing well that there was a meeting of the valar so such a powerful presence was certainly not from any of them - you were both right and wrong
ʚ Indeed, there was a valar standing there, but none of which you had expected. Instead, you were greeted by a head of long, raven hair and when he turned; a dull violet locked upon your eyes. Now that he was up-close you managed to get a good look of him - and damn, were the rumours true. He was gorgeous
ʚ He arched his brow, finding your curious stare endearing as a smirk found his lips “Am I that good-looking?” he’d tease, leaving you profusely apologising and directing your gaze elsewhere. You tried to explain that you merely weren’t expecting him but alas, he refused to let your little stare simply slip by
ʚ This is what began a string of future meetings and a slew of teases; especially in front of his brother who was quite confused of this new development. When had you met Melkor? And why did your cheeks burn so much whenever he was around or looked at you?
ʚ It wasn't only him who had began to take notice. In fact, the other ainur were beginning to acknowledge just how close you were getting to Melkor, how he teased you to no end, how you went bright red each and ever time
ʚ Varda, being a little more cautious about her Melkor and also unable to watch his confusion any longer, pointed out that you seemed to have developed a little interest in the once dark lord
ʚ Manwë didn’t pay it much mind after that. After all, it’s not as if it was a particularly bad thing - right? It was just a smal infatuation and he doubted Melkor would make any pursuits. Even if he did, it’s not like it would result in anything catastrophic
