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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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doodle-pops · 1 year

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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

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