#feanor x reader

[lovefairymina]

*Y/N loses a chess game for the 5th time in a row. Slam hands on the table*

Alright Náro! The next time you beat me, you have to go skinny dipping in the cold lake tonight!

Placing his hands under his chin and smirking, he leaned forward while making direct eye contact. “Then I’ll work even harder to beat you so that you can join me for a midnight swim.”

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | When You Fake Your Orgasm

Request: Hi! I’m so happy you opened the request again!☺️ I wanted to ask if you could do the “When you fake an orgasm” with the Feanorians, the one for the Ainur was amazing!! Thank you and have a great day💖

A/N: I didn’t include the twins in this because I was unable to write smut for them. I don’t know why, but I can never envision smut for them, it doesn’t click for me. Sorry, but I also hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, oral sex (male and female receiving), manhandling, restraints, dirty talking, pet names (kitten, little one, bunny, good girl, princess), punishment, reader being mocked

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Feanor — I don’t know if I should clap you on the back and say, “Great job for challenging a man like him,” or be concerned that you chose to challenge a prideful man like him. Because baby, he’s not letting that slide on his pride. Verdict? Punished

He sensed it, the minute you tossed your head into the pillows and released the most ear-aching groan you attempted to have sound believable, he stopped. There was no shouting, no groaning or fuming like he usually did—he simply pulled out with a loud slick, the look of pure dissatisfaction on his face, and climbed off the bed to stand at the foot. There was a sharp gleam in his eyes the longer he looked at you, contemplating what punishment to dish out—so many options, a lot of time to execute them all, which one came first. He chose to say nothing, instead grabbing you by your calves and dragging you to the foot of the bed.

Before you could properly react, he snatched you by the arm and spun you around, planting your face into the mattress with a hand gripping the back of your neck to firmly keep you rooted. A high-pitched squeal left your throat, but it wasn’t from the sudden roughness of his actions, it was from the loud crack of a hand across your ass, followed by the immediate dragging of his fingers through your folds to harshly rub your clit. “Feels good doesn’t it? So good you could cum all over my fingers right now,” he muttered in your ear, pressing more weight against your sweet spot once he found it, causing a string of gibberish to leave your lips. “Then why don’t you cum right now. Fake another one if you dare.”

“F-Fea…nor—shit—was just a—ngh—joke,” you cried out as you wiggled your hips against the thrusting of his thick and calloused fingers.

“A joke,” he gasped lightly with humour in his tone before continuing, “then I too should give you one as well.” Then, he withdrew his fingers an inch away, listening to you crying out from the loss of pleasure. “Let me give you the best joke in the history of the Noldor—so good, that you’ll remember it forever and even learn a lesson from it.”

Maedhros — what can I say. Best rough fuck of your life? This man had his own sense of humour, and he was about to display how funny he could be during a crucial act since you wanted to play games.

The moment your lips parted to gasp, fingers digging into his biceps and legs tightening around his waist, he smirked. The hands on your waist slid downwards to grip your thighs and curl them into your chest, flush against your breasts while pressing his weight upon you, essentially pinning you beneath him. The new position had his heavy cock pressed deeper within your walls; you were scrambling to find purchase along his sweaty back. “Nggh, fuck—too deep, Mae,” you whined with a pout, brows furrowing and lip biting as he doubled the pace, making the bedframe shake.

“Hmm, I’m as deep as I should be,” he purred against your lips while one hand from your thigh reached up to grip your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact. He chose to roll his hips, his flared tip rubbing against your sweet post, prompting your eyes and walls to flutter as you genuinely came around his cock, a warm gush of your juices coating his length. “That’s more like it. That’s how you should look when you’re about to cum all over my cock,” he grinned and pecked your lips swiftly. “All fucked out, not that phoney performance.”

“M-Mae…please, ’s too much.”

“Uh-Uh.” He was having fun with this, giving your face a small shake while his grip on your jaw tightened. You could feel him deep in your stomach—getting deeper—and the loud squelching sounds of your cunt gushing around his length telling you that he didn’t plan on stopping. “I’m having just as much fun as you faking your orgasm, melda. Why should I stop when all you have to do is lie there and take my cock?” he whispered cynically with a wicked grin. “Or do you want to fake another orgasm again?”

You shook your head, struggling to keep up as another orgasm was approaching after he fucked you through the recent one.

“Good,” he hummed and lifted his body slightly off you, releasing your chin. “Now be a good girl and cum for me again.”

Maglor — the gentle poet isn’t always as gentle as everyone considers him to be, you know? Kano has his tricks up his sleeves, and one of them is ensuring that you’re not leaving this bed unsatisfied, no matter what it takes.

He didn’t even wait for you to finish before he came to a complete halt, staring at you with all the restraint and disbelief. And then, ever so slowly, he broke into a smile—a cunning, wicked smile. “My, my, my, princess. You didn’t tell me that we were performing. Had I known—” he growled and suddenly pulled out to flip you onto your knees, pushing your face into the pillows and sinking your back into a beautiful arch. “—I would have put on an equally, captivating performance as well.”

Whimpering, your excuses falling short when you felt his fingers trail down your spine to dip between your folds, spreading your wetness around to rub lazily circles around your clit. “I hope you know how great of an improviser I am—one of the best. So, I hope you can keep up. It would be a shame—a real shame if you were unable to…” That was all Maglor needed to do to have you falling apart under his touch. Those skilled fingers, working you to the brink and bringing you back down, edging you as if he was playing his harp and plucking strings of cries with each pinch or flick.

His other hand rested at the centre of your back, applying just enough pressure to warn you of his warrior’s strength underneath while his fingers ran through your fold, circling your clit and then down to your entrance, doing everything but sinking inside. The needy whines you released only fuelled him to continue his ministrations as you begged him.

“Kano, quit playing—please, put it in,” you groaned, voice muffled as you pushed your face into the pillow to swallow your needy cries which he revelled in.

“Kano quit playing,” he mocked, laughing at the end as he pulled his fingers away to give your ass a solid smack, jolting you forward. “How demanding? What are you, a star actress who can’t play her part correctly?” In an instant, just as the response was at the tip of your tongue, his cock plunged into your cunt and immediately started moving without an inch of reprieve. “Why don’t you leave the improvising to me, sweetheart, and just do what you’re supposed to. Cum for me when I fuck you.”

Celegorm — gosh, you’re giving his man a game. A thrill. A chase. He’s a hunter—this is the type of game he’s into. Make him work for his prize, and you, my dear, were so kind to delectably present him with the best challenge ever. One neither of you would ever forget.

Coming down from your so-called orgasm, had you trembling in Tyelko’s hold. Ankles locked around his neck, nails curling into his meaty biceps and jaw slackened as you mimicked the expression of ecstasy, but that was never enough to fool the hunter. For in an instant, he leaned into you further, pressing more of his weight against you, squeezing your thighs against your chest, caging you in like some prey with those gleaming, green eyes. “Little bunny wants to make me work to earn an orgasm from her, huh? Acting as though I wouldn’t know what this pussy feels like around my cock,” he taunted with a sickeningly, sinful laugh.

“T-Tyelko, don’t—” Your attempted words were immediately cut off by an abrupt tumble as he rolled over to place you on top, adjusting your legs to straddle his hips, yet pulling you down, chest to chest.

“Shh, kitten. You don’t need to speak—you’ve told me enough.” His cock still buried deep within, started moving sluggishly at first—just for a few strokes to get you relaxed—while he gingerly took both your wrist and bound them with one hand behind your back. As slowly as he moved, it was enough to make your stomach flip. And like the predator he was, his feet planted into the mattress and instantly thrust upwards with much more force jerking you forward, save for the strong arms around your waist.

A loud crack of his hand followed against your ass, groping the flesh before sending another, matching the intensity of his thrust. “Just like that—feels so good doesn’t it? Nice and deep enough to fake another?” he growled, increasing his tempo for the sound of sweaty skin clapping against each other to ripple around the room.

“T-Tyel–…ko—fuck! ’m s-sorry…slow down—ah!” Sputtering his favourite chorus of gibberish, he merely grinned and sunk himself deeper into your cunt, purposefully rubbing his cock head against your sweet spot which had your nails digging into your palms and more juices dripping down his cock.

“Not at all kitten. I’m right where I need to be,” he purred and cracked another hand across your ass. “Chasing as many orgasms I can get all night long.”

Caranthir — he doesn’t do anything half-assed, so why would you make him feel like he wasn’t performing up to standards, huh? Don’t you think that you’re about to be reminded to never test his skills?

A hand pinning the back of your neck to the polished desk while the other torturously dragged its fingers through your dripping cunt—if you thought Moryo was about to let it slide with a fickle excuse of ‘I was just tired,’ you were fooling yourself. He didn’t appreciate the gesture and was fixated on ensuring that you never thought about attempting your foolish jest ever again. And judging from how his fingers glided so smoothly through your cunt, your juices coating his palm and wrists, and the obscenely loud echoes of your thirsty walls sucking him back in, he was making a point. All of this when it was your umpteenth orgasm for the night, and he wasn’t letting up. No amount of, ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘Please don’t tease me,’ or ‘It was just a joke,’ could reduce the number of times you’ve cum all over him.

“Have you learnt your lesson yet, melda?” he questioned with such authority, yet a distinctive quietness in his tone. His question was followed up by a sudden contracting off your walls, spasming around his fingers as they remained still and pressing against your sweet spot. Within seconds, another gush of your arousal oozed out, making his rings and bracelets glisten under the lamps. “Hm, not yet it would appear.”

“Moryo—”

“Silence. You had your chance to answer and missed the opportunity. It is clear to me that you still crave more, so I shall give you more. Enough that you will not attempt such foolishness again.” There was a faint smirk in his tone as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the centre of your back, the same time his fingers regained their pace and continued to fuck you through your orgasm, into the next one. The tremble of your legs as shivered with oversensitivity made him laugh airily, not slowly or increasing his pace, keeping you right there, and giving you want you clearly desired from the start. “You’re doing so well, darling.”

Curufin — nothing misses his eyes. Nothing misses his focus, and you thought it would be a brilliant idea to test the man who was cunning, perspective and undoubtedly harsh when it came to dishing out punishment? Good luck.

“Open—wider.” Just as swiftly as the command came, your mouth was filled with the sliding of his thick cock between your lips to rest heavily against your tongue. He wanted to silence those nasally cries you emitted earlier, calling it the regular sounds you made when you orgasmed, and listen to you gurgling on his cock, rethinking your options. “Just like that. You sound much better.”

All you could do was look up at him through your teary lashes while he tossed his head back, hands tightening in your hair as he held you still. He didn’t move too slow or too quickly, just at the right pace to satisfy him and leave you clenching around nothing in anticipation. A soft, muffled whine escaped your throat when he pulled back, leaving his tip to rest against your lips, causing him to finally open his eyes and look down at you—with disappointment. “What’s wrong? Finally ready to apologise so I can make you cum for your ridiculous stunt?”

You nodded, pouting up at him with your teary eyes, knowing the effect it always had on him. “I’m sorry…won’t do it again.”

Instead, he scoffed. You were so shameless. Fake your orgasm and then had the audacity to be wet while he fucked your throat, wanting his cock to quench your heat. If anything, it made him more irritable. “I’m not so sure that you are sorry,” he corrected, biting his lower lip. “You just want me to stuff you with my cock like the needy little thing you are.”

“You can do whatever you want,” you pleaded. “I just want to cum.”

Rolling his eyes as he tapped his cock head against your lips, signalling you to open up, he pushed into the warmth of your mouth again, exhaling deeply at the welcoming of your heat and wetness. “I am doing whatever I want, darling. And that’s making sure you don’t cum like you wanted from the start.”

Celebrimbor — okay, why would you even try this stunt on this pookie wookie? He’s trying his best to bring you the best pleasure you ever had in your life with passionate precision and you of all things to do…fake your orgasm. Go stand outside in the rain, for making him feel like his performance wasn’t good enough,

His hips stuttered the minute you started vibrating and clinging to him, giving him a world-altering performance of you orgasming. There was a look of sadness washing over you as he continued to observe your shaking figure under him—you were so caught up in acting to notice that he had stopped and slackened his hold on your hips, slightly sitting on his hunches. The way his brain was calculating what to do in the face of such an event he never thought would occur to him. Then, he recalled—a conversation between two of his Lords he overheard speaking about their wives pulling this same stunt.

So, it was a thing. Just you attempting to trick him. He was still saddened deep down, but with a fervour.

Gingerly, he pulled his cock out and shuffled off the bed, noticing how you watched him with curious eyes. “Where are going? You haven’t finished?” you worried, sitting upright and frowning as he slipped back into his trousers, keeping it loose around his waist.

He said nothing as he reached into the drawers for a pair of handcuffs, designed just for you. A little something he was working on for a while to surprise you with, and what a joyous occasion it was for him to introduce them to you because, in mere minutes, your hands were cuffed to the headboard and left sobbing—begging for release, overstimulated. Tyelpë’s mouth worked so fervently against your pussy, giving you all the orgasms in the world so you would never test his abilities again.

A languid drag of his tongue against your clit, followed but a sharp suck had your toes curling, yet, unable to move from the iron grip that held them apart. You were beyond sensitive, unsure if he could milk another orgasm from your thoroughly wracked body.

“Hmm, do you think you can give me one more?” he peered up at you through those gorgeous emerald eyes. How could you say ‘no’ even when this was punishment? And yet you found yourself nodding slowly. “Lovely, let us see if this would be the one to remind you to never try that trick again.”

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[awkwardkindatries]

Kinktober Day 22: Magic Toy

Feanor/Reader

NSFW

Tags: Voyeurism, toys

Words:723

Feanor is an Ellon with a great deal of talent and pride to match, this is something that practically everyone who has ever come in contact with him knows. Something else that would fall into this category would be his possessiveness and need to display the fruits of his labor to others.

You are a prime example of this, of years of courting and swooning and gifting you with tokens of love and appreciation so that he can finally carry you on his arm and have you sit beside him in pride. Today though, as you sit beside him, you seem to have a bit of trouble focusing on the council meeting before you at the latest creation he has presented to you. The idle chatter of the Noldorians around you go in one ear and out through the other as your thought process has long since been replaced by the low hum that vibrates up from your core and spine into your head.

The focus in your gaze has fazed out with your patience as you try your best to cram down any noises, for if you fail you’ll be sure to be found out. Your hands press firmly against your lap as you resist the urge to squirm at the hefty vibration coming from the enchanted, polished hunk of marble that rests inside of you. You have been balancing on the brink of your finish for the last ten minutes and if you were able to move just a little more you’d have stars in your eyes like the rest of them.

You pull your lip between your teeth and bite in a desperate attempt to pull yourself back down with little success, beginning to think of ways to excuse yourself from the table and somehow make it to the other side of the door without exposing yourself. You bring your arms up, elbows resting on the table as you weave your fingers together to rest your forehead against. The bantering in the room has picked up and the room as they prattle on about borders and budget with little work into a solution as you try to hide your vision in an attempt to stifle down the pleasure.

Suddenly Feanor a hand is on your thigh forcing a fresh tremor up your spine as you look at him from your peripheral behind your hands and for the first time you think you're thankful for the passions of the people around you. Feanor's hand on your thigh wraps around the width of your leg and slides up, finding the junction of your thigh and torso before settling firmly into the skin. A moment later his motives are revealed as he forces down onto your hips and suddenly you’re rocked back, forcing the stone in your depths to stir around despite your better judgement. You do your best to keep down your sounds as your hands slide down from in front of your eyes to cover your mouth, clasping tightly to your mouth , no longer minding the busy men around you.

Feanor's eyes stay forward as he gauges the room, continuing to push you forward to the brink of pleasure, enjoying the barely audible noises that he is able to pick up simply due to proximity. The sharp smirk that mares his face is obnoxious, you wanting nothing more than to smack it right off his face but opting rather to ignore it as you rest your head in your folded arms against the table. The build up was larger than you had thought as you begin to tremble in your seat as the long awaited rush of ecstasy makes its way through your body, only pushed further by the stone still thrumming inside of you, coaxing you further.

In the distance you can hear the others ask about you, concerned for your condition as they’re none the wiser to having possibly seen you climb the stairs to Nirvana to ring the havens bell. You keep your head in your arms, far too embarrassed to look up from your hidey hole.

Feanor's chuckle is clear as day as his hand makes its way to your back as he begins to rub in a nurturing manner.

“ They've had a “rocky” day, allow me to show them back to our quarters”

[batsyforyou]

Mini Headcanons for Squishing their Cheeks Elves Addition + One Maia

Tags: Dramatic kisses, Squishing faces, crack?

Author's note: I already stated in my cod part of this but random nonsense is todays order lol.

Squishing and kissing Glorfindel’s cheeks.

would do the same to you. Squish your cheeks and return your kisses. The affection makes Erestor sick lol 

Squishing and kissing Lindir’s cheeks

equals red tomato. He is embarrassed but loves it. Prays Elrond isn't around and that Erestor doesn't hear of it. Eventually he does grab a hold of your hands and kisses them.

Squishing and kissing Feanor’s cheeks

would equal in Dot. Dot. Dot. Blink. Would let it happen for like five seconds if it's in his office but if you try that with him in the forges your affections will get rejected a bit rudely. But don't take it to heart the forge it his main love lol

Squishing and kissing Celebrimbor’s cheeks

Would include baby melting into your touch. Giving you his best doe eyes + heart eyes while listening to your giggles. If it's in the forge he drops everything and freezes before he gets a hold of himself. Though his first reaction is freak out and get you away from what he’s working on. Because it's hot and potentially dangerous. But after that he kisses you with the passion only a feanorian can have.

Squishing and kissing Fingon’s cheeks

he pouts cutely and after getting his lips kissed he’d grin and move to tickle your sides. 

Squishing and Kissing Eönwë cheeks

You curl your finger and gesture for the tall maia to bend down to your height. Curious he raises a brow and accommodates you. Is shocked and surprised when you squish his cheeks and begin kissing him so dramatically. He flushes red embarrassed. Might even spot a judgemental Mairon peaking over his shoulder. “My love please.” Despite his 'disapproval' he lets you do what you want. His wings melting into the floor while listening to your happy giggles.

Squishing and Kissing Finrod's Cheeks

you tug on his hair and give him a good deep kiss to entice him closer before squishing and kissing his cheeks with vigor. He laughs and squeezes your hips and lifts you into his arms to set you on his shoulder. Showing off his strength and then it's his turn to laugh as you go bright red in the face.

Overall most of them can do without their faces getting squished lol.

Masterlist

[animatorweirdo]

Soundless

Your father discouraged you from seeking the elf, but since you were desperate to have your locket fixed -- you decided to let his words go soundless in your ears. Turns out, the ill-famed Feanor wasn't so bad after all.

[] = Sign language

Warnings: mentions of a dead mother, hearing loss, rumors, Feanor's reputation, softness, and Feanor not being bad after all.

(Note: I decided to take a softer turn for this guy,)

---------------------------------------------

Your life has not been an easy one. Despite being born into nobility as the child of a Telerin lord, you faced your share of hardships from a young age. Your mother passed away shortly after your birth, and then you lost your hearing to a strange illness.

Growing up without the ability to hear the sounds of nature or music was incredibly challenging. Many people looked at you with pity, and some even speculated that you were cursed, given the unfortunate circumstances surrounding both your mother's death and your hearing loss. This placed a heavy burden on your father, who was left to care for you alone.

You two shared a great bond, and he had been genuinely a good father to you, helping you adapt to your disability and trying to make sure you were happy. However, you knew how tired he was and how he held a look of longing in his eyes. He was most likely still waiting for your mother to return from the halls of Mandos. 

Your mother had been born with a weak body thus the childbirth took a severe toll on her and her spirit. The Valar and the Maiar assured that she would heal over time, but it would take a long time. There was a high chance she would return when you had already grown into your teens. 

Your father was deeply saddened by the news and carried a heavy burden of guilt, believing that he was responsible for your mother being stuck in a state of recovery. Despite any rumors or beliefs held by others, he never allowed you to bear the blame. Instead, he shielded you from such notions, ensuring that you understood it was not your fault and that you were not to blame for your mother's passing.

You didn't want your father to blame himself, so you always strived to be on your best behavior and do things that would make him happy. You also wanted to prove to him that he didn’t always need to worry about you and that you could handle yourself, even if you were deaf. That was one of the reasons why you were determined to learn how to read people’s lips and make communication easier for yourself.

One of the only things you had from your mother was a silver locket.

Your father allowed you to keep it, and you held on to it ever since. Unfortunately, the lock had gotten stuck, thus making you unable to open it. 

Your father didn’t know what the locket held inside, so you pleaded with him to have someone fix it. However, since the locket was an older design from the First Age, none of the craftsmen knew how to repair it. They all advised you to dismantle the locket and salvage whatever was inside, but you were unwilling to do so. You were fond of the locket itself and didn't want to risk damaging whatever precious contents it held.

You began to lose hope when there were no more craftsmen to turn to, and even your father seemed less eager to save the locket. He eventually told you to simply keep the locket as a memory, assuring you that knowing what was inside was not important.

You valued your father's advice, but you also couldn't shake the desire to know what was inside the locket. Perhaps it contained a picture of your mother, since you had so few of them in the house, or maybe it held a cherished item she kept as a memory.

You then heard about an elf who was rumored to be one of the best craftsmen known in history: Feanor, King Finarfin’s older brother and the eldest of Finwe’s children. You heard that he had done troubling things in the past and nowadays lived in seclusion with his sons, rarely attending social events. Despite his reclusive nature, his reputation as a skilled craftsman persisted.

You felt hope for your mother’s locket, but when you asked your father if you two could meet him, he suddenly became angry and refused. You were startled as you had never seen him so angry before. 

Your father apologized for snapping at you and then explained that Feanor was not someone who should even be spoken about. Despite the passing of many years, the wounds he had inflicted were still fresh in the hearts of many. He was not to be trusted, so it's only for the best that you forget the whole thing.

Normally, you would have listened to your father, but your stubbornness to have your locket fixed strived you forward. 

During a celebration event with most noble houses and the city attending, you sneaked away from your father’s side and made your way to the workshop where you heard Feanor usually occupied alone with his gadgets. 

You had visited many workshops while trying to get your locket fixed, so you had a good idea of what to look for. It didn’t take long for you to find the place and walk inside. The workshop was empty, as most of the people were attending the celebration. Although it was a bit eerie to be alone, you pressed on until you found a door with light emanating from the room beyond.

You quietly peered inside and observed a dark-haired elf seated beside a table, engrossed in some task beneath the flickering candlelight. For a moment, you were awestruck, realizing that this was the famed Feanor, the elf who had allegedly committed terrible deeds.

With cautious steps, you entered the room, mindful not to startle the elf, and pondered how to approach him without alarming him. Unbeknownst to you, the door behind you closed shut, causing the elf to startle and snap his head towards you.

You were frozen in your place when you locked your eyes with Feanor. His features were sharp and he frowned when he saw you. For a moment, he looked a bit terrifying. 

“Child? What are you doing here alone? Where are your parents?” Feanor questioned, but you awkwardly remained quiet as you only managed to catch ‘here’ and ‘parents’ from his lips. Your lip reading skills weren’t the sharpest despite you having been trying to improve them. 

You took a deep breath and then tried to explain in sign language why you were there and that you had hoped he could take a look at your locket and perhaps know how to fix it since no one else knew how to. 

Feanor gazed intently at you as you signed, and then there was an awkward pause. You weren't sure if he understood sign language, and you mildly regretted not bringing a piece of paper and a pencil, which would have made explaining much easier.

Feanor’s eyes then softened, and to your surprise, he motioned his hand in sign language. 

“[Come here…]” he said. 

You then walked up to him and handed him your locket. 

He inspected it carefully, taking in the design and the lock. After he tested it and tried to open it, he then laid it down on the table. He grabbed one of the vials and what seemed to be a small tool. You looked at him curiously as he started doing something. 

He then glanced at you. 

“[Take a seat. This might take a while…]” He signed. 

You nodded and quietly sat on the opposite side of the table, watching as he gently poured drops on the lock. 

“[What is that?] you curiously asked. 

“[A type of acid. It can remove the rust that had locked the locket from the inside,]” he explained. 

“[Wait! So you can really fix it without having to break it?!]” you asked excitedly.

“[Of course I can. I do need to take the lock apart to clean the excess rust from the inside,]” Feanor explained while dropping drops on the locket. 

“[How do you know sign language?]” you asked. 

“[I was the one who first developed it,]” he answered, making your eyes widen. 

“[Did you or anyone in your family have hearing problems too? ]” you asked. 

“[No. I just wanted a way to bad mouth my half-brother without him understanding anything. I was a bit of a drama seeker,]” he explained, making you giggle. 

“[Then it was adopted by those who were unable to speak or hear words,]” he added.

“[How long have you been unable to hear words or sounds?]” he asked while cleaning your locket’s lock. 

“[My whole life. I lost my hearing somewhere in my birth,]” you answered.

“[Do you want to talk about it?]” Feanor asked, and you became excited. No one else besides your father has spoken to you in sign language this long. 

You then talked about your life. How your mother died during your birth, and how your father had taken care of you your whole life. You also talked about how your father seems to be blaming himself for your mother’s death and how you hated when others would look at you with pity and think you had been cursed. 

Feanor listened attentively while fixing your locket. 

After half an hour of talking and watching him work, you took a break, but then you saw how the elf in front of you placed all the parts back in the locket and opened it. 

You looked at him eagerly as he closed it and then opened it, making sure the lock worked properly before handing the locket back to you.

You grabbed the locket and took a look at what was inside. It was a small picture of your mother and father. They looked happy together, and there was also a small gem inside. It was most likely the gem your father gave your mother as a gift, and she had kept it inside the locket for safekeeping and carried it with her. You felt immeasurable joy looking at the picture and holding the gem. 

Your father would be so happy when you showed these to him. 

Feanor then caught your attention by tapping the table in front of you. 

“[The locket should work fine for now, but make sure to take care of it and not leave it somewhere where it could rust again, ]” Feanor explained. 

“[I will. Thank you,]” you signed. 

“[Now come on. I take you back to the entrance. You shouldn’t be here,]” he said, then stood up. 

You followed the elf out of the workshop, and you two then stood on the empty street while the celebration was still going in the distance. 

“[Do you need me to escort you back there?]” Feanor asked. 

“[No. My father is pretty easy to find, and I don’t think he even noticed that I’m gone. I’m pretty quiet after all, ]” you answered. 

“[Very well, and by the way,]” he said, making you look at him curiously. 

“[Your mother’s passing was not your fault. No matter how tragic it was, you are not at fault,]” he explained. 

You looked down for a moment. 

“[But others think differently,]” you said. 

“[There will always be people who will judge you for what you don’t have. Don’t let their words get to you. Otherwise, your life will become difficult and harder to enjoy,]” he signed.

 “[And remember, hearless or not, your mother would have loved you]” he added. 

The thought made you smile. Your mother had a weak body, but it didn’t mean she did not want you. Your father and the rest of the relatives always explained how she was excited to have you. 

She might be in Mandos, but she was going to return one day. 

“[I won’t. Thank you, Mr. Feanor,]” you said, and he softly smiled. 

“[Now get along now. Your father will notice your disappearance soon enough,]” he said. 

You then suddenly hugged his legs, making him look at you surprised. He then patted your head as you freed him and began making your way back to the party. You waved at him, and he waved in return till he saw you disappear into the crowds. 

Feanor returned to his workshop, feeling pleasant over the encounter. 

[autumnshighlady]

Wildest Dreams (Feanor x Reader x Fingolfin)

summary: you've been caught in the middle of a competition between Feanor and Fingolfin's, and you can't imagine having to choose between the two. Thankfully, they make things easier

warnings: SMUT (kinda incest/y i guess since they're half brothers but nothing happens between them I swear), oral sex (m and f recieving), dirty talk

word count: 6k

requests: I’m not sure if you write for threesomes in this fandom (and if you don’t, please feel free to discard this ask): requesting Feanor x reader x Fingolfin, smut, where both of them are in love with the reader but reader doesn’t want to offend one by choosing the other, so she chooses to keep her difference, and Feanor and Fingolfin seduce her and agree to share her? Turn pleasuring her into a competition to see who is the better lover once and for all?

professor tolkien I am so sorry for this ily

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You wandered down the paths of the gardens, letting your fingertips brush the soft petals of the flowers that swayed in the gentle breeze. The air was sweet, something which you normally would have cherished on such a fine afternoon. But not today. No, today was different. Instead of appreciating the beauty of the nature around you like you usually did, your mind was far away. It was swimming in the afterthoughts of the dream you had last night, one that sent a blush to your cheeks at the mere thought of it.

That morning, you had woken up with a thin layer of sweat on your skin and a flush on your face. But it was not the product of illness, nor the result of a nightmare. No, it was from a dream filled with lust and pleasure. In this dream, your deepest, most shameful desires had come to light. You had been at the mercy of the princes Fëanor and Fingolfin, the two eldest sons of Finwë himself, as they performed acts on you so sinful that the mere thought of them sent shivers down your spine.

You could still feel their mouths on your skin, their fingers working magic and tongues hot against your body. The sensation of the princes inside of you lingered as if it had actually happened.

It had almost felt real. 

You had dreamed of them before, but last night was the first time it had turned that sexual. For weeks Fëanor and Fingolfin had been competing for your affections, each trying to outdo the other with flirtatious comments and gestures. It had begun when Fëanor interrupted your lunch with Fingolfin, stealing you away from his half-brother to show you his work in the forges. The next day, Fingolfin had appeared at your door to personally escort you to dinner, gently placing a flower in your hair, claiming it complimented your eyes. Their competition had grown less and less subtle, and was beginning to irritate you. At first, it was flattering, but now it had become more of an inconvenience. Truthfully, a small part of your heart had always harboured a crush for both princes, and up until now, you had thought it easily concealable.

And so you continued your path down the garden, head in the clouds and paying no attention to the world around you as you savoured the sensations lingering on your skin from last night’s dream. Unfortunately, you were snapped out of your daze as you collided with a tall figure, your head smacking into a very muscular chest. Startled, you stepped back and looked up at the living obstacle, only to be met with the amused gaze of Fëanor himself.

“My Lord,” You stammered, dipping your head. “My apologies. I did not see you there.”

Fëanor snorted, “Clearly.” He said, obviously finding the situation rather entertaining. You dared to look up at him, but regretted your decision immediately. His lips were smirking with their usual arrogance, his grey-blue eyes piercing your very soul. His dark hair was loosely hanging around his face, which was not covered in ash from the forges for once. The mere image of his face looking down on your much smaller frame only brought back the images in your mind from your dream, and it sent an instant blush to your face. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping Fëanor would not notice.

Unsurprisingly, he did, as his smirk only grew more arrogant. His hand grazed your chin, tilting it up so you were forced to meet his gaze. You bit your lip, desperately trying to force the sinful images from your mind. 

To make matters worse, Fëanor moved his hand from your chin to your face, pressing the back of his hand to your cheek. “Are you alright, my dear?” He said, the curiosity in his voice obviously feigned. “Your face appears rather flushed.”

You gritted your teeth. “I’m fine.” You said, much harsher than intended. The arrogant asshole knew exactly what he was doing. You hated the effect he had on you, how a simple touch could make your body react in such a strong way. 

And Fëanor knew that. He removed his hand from your cheek, letting his fingertips ghost your collarbone has he brought them back down to his sides. “Perhaps you did not sleep well enough…” He mused. You stiffened at the mention of your sleep, and Fëanor noticed immediately and cocked his eyebrow. “Or perhaps, you slept rather well…”

The both of you knew what he was getting at, and at this you squirmed even more, mind racing as you tried to think of a response. Usually you were much more composed than this, but not today. Much to your annoyance, last night’s dream continued to cloud your judgement. He extended his arm and you took it, and the two of you continued on your original path through the garden.

“Did you dream of me, dear Y/N?” Fëanor inquired as you walked, noting the blush that had returned to your cheeks. 

“I do not remember.” You stated, hoping that would be sufficient enough to make Fëanor drop it.

Oh how wrong you were, for your vague answer merely encouraged the prince. “Or perhaps you dreamed of my brother,” He sighed dramatically, but continued to watch you from the corner of his eye, studying the every reaction you produced.

This only made you squirm even more, as if he was reading your mind, delving into your deepest desires that last night had uncovered. You felt ashamed at your current state, how Fëanor was able to read you as if you were an open book.

“Uh…” You stammered. “I… I do not think so, my Lord.”

At this, Fëanor hummed, looking straight ahead. “So your dreams were not of me, nor my brother, then who? If you hold affections for another, Lady Y/N, I would have you tell me…”

“It’s not that.” You snapped, interrupting him mid-sentence.

At this, Fëanor stopped you both, turning around so that he faced you. He leaned down,   lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me, my dear, perhaps you dreamed of us both…”

You breathed in sharply. It was all too much for you, his lips whispering things into your ear just as he had in your dream, his presence so close and threatening to consume you. You stepped away before your body could react further. “I… I am sorry,” You stammered, bowing your head with as much dignity as you could muster. “I must go.”

Without waiting for an answer, you walked away as quickly as possible. You knew it was rude, but you did not care. You hurried away before anyone could see your flustered state, mentally cursing at both yourself and the arrogant prince.

*************

You spent the rest of the day avoiding both Fëanor and Fingolfin, knowing that if Fëanor continued to further inquire about your dreams, he would end up with a broken jaw, and the guards would almost certainly throw you into a cell. You had skipped lunch, sneaking out into the forest through the kitchens and grabbing a loaf of bread from your friend on the way out. You chose to spend the next few hours under your favourite tree where you knew the princes would not look for you, letting your mind drift off again once more. Desperately, you tried to keep your thoughts civil, planning out your next letter to your mother and debating whether or not to continue the song you had been composing. But your consciousness would simply not allow you to focus on such trivial matters.

After a few hours, you finally surrendered to your thoughts, tilting your head back and resting it on the tree as you closed your eyes. You let out a sigh almost immediately, letting last night’s dream replay in your head over and over as you let the world around you fade away.

Unbeknownst to you, Fëanor was watching you from a distance. He had known of your favourite spot in the forest for some time now, but dared not disturb you. Normally he did not particularly care for the boundaries of others. He was a prince, and may inherit his father’s crown and titles one day and could do as he pleased. Fëanor would never admit it, but a small part of him feared that if he approached you in your secret spot, you would lose respect for him and become distant, which was the opposite of what he desired. 

So he instead grew content with simply observing you from a distance, something which had become a daily occurrence for him. He noted the content on your face, and the hint of a blush on your cheeks, reminding him of your earlier state in the gardens.

Fëanor relished in the memory. Normally you were much more composed, but he liked the way you squirmed beneath his gaze, unable to hide the obvious thoughts that were racing through your mind as his lips brushed your ear. At this point he was almost certain that you had dreamed of sharing your bed with him, and possibly his half-brother, and that was why your encounter in the gardens had been so unusual. But the prince was not quite prepared for what he would hear and witness next.

It was faint, barely audible even to his elven ears, but you let out a breathy whisper: “Fëanor…”

His name coming from your lips in such a manner sent an all too familiar sensation down Fëanor’s spine. He held his breath as he saw you ever so slightly press your legs together, chest rising up and down intensely. Countless times Fëanor had imagined you beneath him, his name spilling from your mouth as his hands explored your body. He had thought about the ways he would claim you, and while part of him wanted to take you from behind and fuck you until you screamed, the other part of him wanted to see you beneath him, receiving the most satisfaction and pleasure you’d ever had in your life.

He bit his lip, relishing in how blissfully unaware you were of your surroundings until you whispered another name, “Fingolfin…” 

Under any other circumstances, hearing your sweet lips whisper Fingolfin’s name would have sent Fëanor into a murderous rage frightening enough to make Morgoth cower. But not this time. Instead of being filled with jealousy, a brilliant idea came to his mind and he smirked. Your whispers were all the confirmation he needed to know exactly what you had dreamed of last night. Satisfied, Fëanor turned away and headed back to the palace. 

He needed to talk to Fingolfin.

**********

After a while, you finally opened your eyes and sat up straight. You did not know how much time had passed since you had drifted off into your haze. You felt a cold breeze, realizing it was about to get dark soon. Collecting your skirt, you stood up, shivering slightly at the cold as you headed back through the forest.

When you arrived inside the palace, you did not bother to see if there was any food left in the kitchen. Instead, you elected to return to your chambers, where you hoped to have a hot bath and go to sleep. You arrived at your door and pushed it open, but nearly shrieked in surprise at the sight before you.

Fëanor was lying on your bed, legs crossed as he casually fiddled with the corner of one of your pillows. He was not dressed in his usual fancy robes, but rather a simple pair of trousers with a loose white shirt. He gave you a smirk as you entered, noting the surprise on your face.

“Good evening, my dear Y/N.” Fëanor said innocently. “What took you so long? I was beginning to wonder if you got lost on your way to bed.”

After a few moments, your shock subsided. “What the fuck, Fëanor?” You snapped, not bothering with your usual polite greeting. “Why the fuck are you in my chambers? You can’t just walk in whenever-”

“Oh, but I can.” He interrupted, dismissing your outburst. “But that matters not. Perhaps now you will tell me more about your dream, little one.”

At this, you rolled your eyes, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind you. This time, Fëanor and his half-brother’s competitiveness had gone too far. “Seriously?” You said in an exasperated tone, your hands defiantly placed on your hips, all sense of embarrassment gone. “That’s what you came here to ask? Are you not capable of just dropping the subject?”

Before Fëanor could answer, a deep voice came from the darkest corner of the room. “I, too, would like to know about this dream.”

You practically jumped out of your skin. Out of the shadows emerged Fingolfin himself. But it was not the Fingolfin you had grown accustomed to seeing - the noble elf who always had a stoic expression on his chiseled face, consistently dressed in robes more elaborate than that of his brother’s. No, this Fingolfin was clad in similar attire to Fëanor, his toned chest showing behind the thin fabric. His dark brown hair was smooth, making you want to run your fingers through it. His eyes were even more silver than his brother’s, making contact with yours as he stepped closer to you.

“Okay….” You stuttered, beyond confused. “What the fuck is going on?”

Fëanor sighed dramatically, kicking his legs off the bed and standing up. The sons of Finwë walked towards you like predators stalking their prey. You felt your heart race, trying to step away only for your back to meet the wall behind you and you gulped. Simply seeing the princes like this was enough for all your sinful thoughts created by your dream to surface at the front of your mind. You pressed your legs together as they drew closer, stopping less than a foot away from you. 

“The thing is, my dear,” Fëanor said, reaching out and brushing your fingers against your wrist before slowly dragging them up the length of your arm. “I have come to the conclusion that the reason your head has been in the clouds all day is because of the dream you had last night. It only took one touch from me in the gardens this morning to figure out all I needed to know about it…”

“My brother tells me that you dreamed of the two of us.” Fingolfin said, his voice feigning innocence just as his brother’s had earlier today. “And what do you presume we did to our lovely Y/N in her dream, Fëanáro?”

Fëanor chuckled, his movements on your arm not ceasing. “I think we fucked her into oblivion.” His voice dropped an octave. “Is that correct, meldenya [my love]? Did you dream of being at our mercy as we worshipped that pretty body of yours?”

By this point, you could resist them no longer. All day you had been fighting the sensations and emotions that stemmed from your dream, but between Fëanor’s teasing touches and Fingolfin’s lust-filled gaze, you finally caved. 

“Yes.” You muttered meekly, face flushing with embarrassment. You felt arousal pool between your legs, and for a moment you hated yourself for reacting to the two noble elves so strongly when they had not really done much.

Fingolfin chuckled lowly, reaching up to cup your face with his left hand. “Do not be ashamed, my dear,” He soothed. “We only wish to give you what you desire.”

Fëanor leaned in, as he did earlier in the gardens, but this time his teeth gently grazed along the outside of your pointed ear. That sensation alone sent shockwaves through your body, every nerve in the sensitive area screaming that it was too much and not enough at the same time. “What is it exactly, darling, that your dream revealed your desires to be?” He murmured against your skin. “After all, we are generous elves — tell us exactly what you want, and you may have it. So, my dear, please do reveal exactly how that little dream of yours went down.”

Everything was spinning. Any sense of composure you had was  gone under their touches. Fingolfin’s left hand trailed down your neck, brushing against your breast before settling on your waist and giving it a firm squeeze. You sighed, allowing Fëanor to continue his ministrations along your ear as you let your head rest against the wooden door. The air felt hot, your clothes too tight - if you could only just slip your dress off…

Your thoughts were cut off but a sharp squeeze by that large hand at your waist. “Your prince asked you a question,” Fingolfin all but growled, his voice full of dominance and leaving no room for debate. It was akin to the tone you had heard him use when giving orders, only this one was dripping with heat. “Answer it, darling, before we take matters into our own hands.”

The image was tempting — to allow the two elves to make the choices for you, doing with you as they pleased. But then the reality of the situation set in: here you were, a common-born elf with no noble family, with two of the most desirable elves in Arda ready to comply with your every wish. They held such control, such respect everywhere else, except for at this moment in your bedroom. In this space, you made the decisions.

They were yours to command, to wield like a sword.

You smirked. “Well, in my dream you both took my clothes off and carried me to the bed,” You began, hearing Fëanor hum his approval. “You took turns tasting me, as if I was your last meal on Arda. I dreamed of you both on your knees, allowing me to get lost in the pleasure of your fingers and tongues. Then Fëanor took me from behind, while Fingolfin claimed my mouth.”

The words tumbled out of you like a river bursting free from a dam. So long had you contained your desires, but no longer. Evidently, your words had an effect on the two princes. Fëanor’s breathing had become more noticeable, his attention on your ear diverted to your neck in the soft spot beneath your jaw, making you see stars. Fingolfin’s right hand had come up to knead your right breast, his left hand migrating to your ass with a firmness and assurance that made your knees go weak.

“See?” Fëanor purred. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now let us take care of you, darling. Let us give you everything and more.”

You whined as he pulled away, but it was cut short as the two elves began working in tandem to remove your dress. Fëanor pulled your arms out of your sleeves with a shocking tenderness, while Fingolfin’s thick fingers worked at the laces on your back. Within seconds, your chest was left bare. Instinctively, your arms went to cover your breasts, but strong hands clamped down on your wrists.

“Now now, let’s not be shy,” Fëanor mockingly chastised. “Let us see you, princess.” Before you could even comprehend a response, your arms were back at your sides. You almost sighed with relief as you were free from the constricting top of your dress. But what happened next nearly made you climax on the spot.

Fëanor got to his knees, pulling your dress past your waist and down to your ankles along with your panties. Fëanor, son of High King Finwë, the Prince of the Noldor, was kneeling before you as if in worship. His grey-blue eyes, which normally were clouded like the sky of an oncoming storm, were clear and looking up at you — still arrogant, but with a newfound awe as they surveyed your figure. You stepped out of your dress, moment of awe cut short as Fingolfin, determined not to let his brother have all the attention, swept you up into his strong arms. 

He carried you over to your bed, placing you down on the mattress as if you were a piece of glass threatening to break under his strong arms. Almost immediately, he was on top of you, his muscular frame so close, but not close enough. Fingolfin leaned his head down as if to kiss you, but instead put his lips to your ear.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His deep voice was like velvet, a silky fog wrapping around all your senses. “How many nights I have pictured you under me, those starlit eyes staring into mine as I enter you? How I have nearly dropped to my knees just to beg you for one taste of you? How I’ve pumped myself dry imagining those lips around my cock? My sweet Y/N, you have no idea what you do to me.”

“To us.” Came the other male’s voice. Fingolfin’s confessions had you reeling, to the point you had almost forgotten Fëanor was there. You turned your neck to the right, allowing the elf on top of you to press warm kisses down the left side of your neck, nipping and sucking as he went. In turning your head you were faced with Fëanor, who had discarded his shirt. His muscles looked like they were sculpted by Aulë himself, each one toned and defined in ways you didn’t know possible from countless hours spent in the forges. Parts of his loose hair hung over his shoulders, framing his angular face as he stared at you.

Naturally, the eldest son of Finwë almost preened at the lust-filled look you gave him. Under normal circumstances you would have mentally smacked yourself for so easily stroking the prince’s already inflated ego, but it mattered not in this moment. All you cared about was that he touch you with those strong, practised hands. You whined as Fingolfin’s teeth grazed a sensitive spot along the column of your throat before moving down to your collarbone, sucking and biting gently as he went. One of his large hands had come up to your breast, kneading the flesh and causing you to gasp. 

“You look so exquisite,” Fëanor purred as he approached the bed, looking down at your flushed form unabashedly. “Just laying there for us to ruin you. You are lucky Fingolfin is much gentler than I. He shall warm you up for me so I can make you scream loud enough for all of Arda to hear you.”

You yelped as Fingolfin harshly bit down on your nipple while boldly cupping between your legs with his free hand. “Do you think me unable to make her scream?” He growled, a dark glint in his eyes that sent chills through your body.

Fëanor smirked. “Not as well as I can.”

“Challenge accepted.” Fingolfin said boldly as he swiped a finger up your slit, collecting the ever-growing pool of wetness there. Your responsive noise was cut off as Fëanor’s large hand wrapped around your throat, his mouth swallowing your gasp and claiming your lips. He tasted like spiced wine and embers, encasing all your senses at once. The Prince groaned into your mouth, squeezing your throat harder. Your head spun between the dominance of Fëanor’s lips on yours and Fingolfin’s mouth slowly descending towards your core. 

“Watch it,” The younger elf growled, lifting his lips from your stomach. “You said we’d take turns.” 

Fëanor removed his lips from yours, rolling his eyes as he released your throat. “Get over it.” He said. “If you get to taste her pussy first, then I get to taste her mouth first. Fair is fair.”

Fingolfin huffed, but didn’t argue. With a new level of determination, he placed his lips back on your skin. You moaned, the sensation of his lips on your stomach making you tingle. The Prince’s hot breath fanned over your core, causing you to inhale sharply. “Ask me nicely.” He said, the closeness of his lips to your wetness making you squirm.

“What?” You mumbled, earning a chuckle from Fëanor, who had sat himself on the bed and was stroking your hair. Every so often, he tugged gently.

“I said, ask me nicely.” Fingolfin repeated, more sternly this time. The authority in his voice went straight between your legs, slick tracking down onto the soft sheets below.

Fëanor’s grip on your locks tightened as he chuckled again. “We’ve barely touched her and she’s already incoherent. Perhaps she cannot handle us and we should stop—“

“No!” You cried out, embarrassingly fast. 

Fingolfin rested his cheek on the inside of your thigh, and you peered down at him. The sight of the towering, noble elf on his knees with his chiselled face mere centimetres away from your pussy made you dizzy. You had fantasized about this moment more than you cared to admit, alternating between the two princes most of the time. “Well, my love, if you want me to taste your sweet pussy, you have to beg for it.” He said lowly.

You whined, pouting a bit. You were a proud elf, and begging was not your strong suit. Sensing your hesitation, Fingolfin smirked, and began snaking his way down the bed towards your feet. He grabbed your ankle and lifted your leg up, placing feather light kisses along the inside. Slowly as ever, the prince made his way down your leg, kissing and nipping as he went. Right before he met your core, he pulled away and repeated the pattern on your other leg, causing you to whine. 

“Poor thing.” Fëanor said in mock sympathy, stroking your face with his calloused fingers. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he bent down and whispered in your ear. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll throw him aside and show him how it’s done. You won’t need to beg, I’ll give you whatever you want, sweet thing.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Fingolfin said sternly, drawing your attention back to the elf between your legs. “Focus on me. Once you ask, I will be yours to command. All you must do is beg for it.”

“She won’t break.” Fëanor snorted impatiently, clearly waiting for his chance.

Fingolfin responded confidently. “Yes, she will.” Lazily, he lowered his head and dragged his tongue around the edges of your core, centimetres away from where you needed him most. You let out a shaky breath, toes curling as your eyes squeezed shut. It was torture — blissful, but excruciating torture. It wasn’t long before you felt your pride begin to crack, the tough facade you thought you had slowly crumbling.

“Please.” You mumbled, voice breathy and barely above a whisper.

The Prince smirked in satisfaction, kissing your mound lightly. “Please, what?”

“Please, Fingolfin,” You gasped, fighting the urge to clamp your legs around him and drag him closer. “Please use your tongue on my pussy. Please, my lord.”

Satisfied, Fingolfin finally lowered his mouth to your cunt, licking a bold stripe up your slut. You cried out, nearly in tears at the overwhelming pleasure as the prince began to skillfully devour you. Your hands quickly found themselves tangled in his hair, earning a heavenly groan from the male. He was taking his time with you, each movement confident and strong and eliciting an intense reaction. Your head spun, legs weak already with the pleasure Fingolfin was bringing you. 

“Open your eyes.” Fëanor’s strong hand tangled in your hair again, tilting your head down and forcing you to look down at the sight before you. “Is this what you dreamed of, darling? Being our little plaything, begging for us to make you feel better than any other male could? How many nights have those little fingers taken up residence between your legs as you imagine this very scene, trying to find relief but never quite scratching that itch?”

You garbled something of a response, but you weren’t even sure what. Fëanor growled, tightening his grip. “I asked you a question, pet. How many times have you touched yourself imagining this?”

“Many nights…” You managed to gasp, ensuring to keep your eyes on Fingolfin, who took your clit between his lips and sucked.

“Good girl.” Fëanor purred. “But I bet your fingers aren’t nearly as satisfying as our tongues, or our cocks, are they?”

“No.” You arched your back, feeling that tightening buildup inside your body as you approached your orgasm faster than you’d care to admit.

“Naturally.” Fëanor loosened his grip on your hair. “Now look at Arakáno as you cum on his face.”

You obeyed without thinking, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as Fingolfin’s tongue tipped you over the edge, sending shockwaves through your entire body. Fingolfin moaned with you as you tugged on his dark locks, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the chamber as you rode out your climax.

Panting, you caught your breath as he pulled away, leaving your legs trembling. He climbed up your body, his massive form towering over yours as he leaned down and kissed you. You felt in a trance, body a trembling mess. You wondered how you would endure multiple rounds if you were this weak already.

You didn’t even realize how Fëanor had slunk down to take Fingolfin’s place until firm hands snaked under your thighs and gripped your hips firmly. Without a warning, he dove into your still sensitive pussy like a man starved, loud slurping noises filling the room. You cried out, trying to squirm away, but Fëanor’s grip was like iron and you couldn’t move. 

“That’s it, darling.” Fingolfin purred. “Let us hear you. Let the whole palace hear you.”

You no longer attempted to bite your lip and conceal your noises. Your moans sounded throughout the room as Fingolfin firmly grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. You whimpered, almost completely immobile. You were overstimulated from your first orgasm, yet the older prince had no mercy on you as he continued to devour your wetness. While Fingolfin was like the water’s current, calculated and steady, his half brother was akin to a hurricane of fire. His movements were fast and unpatterned, designed to send you towards the edge as fast and as ruthlessly as possible. A single tear ran down your cheek as you pleaded — not even sure what you were pleading for.

“Ease up, Fëanor.” Fingolfin said sternly, noticing your tear.

The heir lifted his head for a moment and scoffed. “She can take it. Can’t you, pet?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes, I can take it. Please, just don’t stop.”

“Thought so.” Fëanor smirked triumphantly before delving back between your legs, doubling his efforts. Two of his thick fingers found their way inside your tight walls, causing you to cry out even louder. Quickly, they found that spot deep inside you that made your entire body jolt.

You could practically see Fëanor’s ego inflate at your reaction, feeling the satisfied smirk of his lips on your clit as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. Your release approached at light speed within minutes, but just as you were about to fall over the edge, Fëanor pulled away.

“No!” You cried out pitifully, wanting to kick him in the face at your loss of an orgasm. Before you could protest further, those strong hands on your hips flipped you over onto stomach. Fëanor yanked your hips back so you were up on your knees, and Fingolfin released your wrists, allowing you to push yourself up onto your hands. 

“Are you going to take our cocks like a good little slut?” Fëanor cooed, unlacing his breeches and pulling them off. Fingolfin had also begun removing his shirt, letting the fabric fall to the floor to reveal his toned body. Your mouth watered as he began removing his breeches, his large cock springing free. He smirked with pride as you drank in the sight of him, giving himself a firm stroke as he walked towards the edge of the bed.

You gasped as Fëanor pressed his thick cock into you, rutting back and forth and caressing your ass with skilled hands. “We’re going to stuff both ends of you, pet. I’m going to fill that tight pussy of yours with my cum, and you’re going to take every drop of it with pride Understood?”

You nodded, pressing your ass eagerly into Fëanor’s cock. He chuckled, slapping your ass one last time before pressing the head into you. You moaned at the stretch, forcing yourself to relax as the Prince slid himself into you with surprising slowness. “Gods above,” Fëanor groaned behind you. “You feel incredible. Even better than I imagined.”

Your toes curled at the thought of the Prince fantasizing about this moment just like you did. Your thoughts were interrupted as Fingolfin brought his cock to your lips, gently tracing them with the head. “Open.” He commanded, gently but sternly. 

You obliged without thinking, body responding to his orders on its own. Eagerly, your jaw stretched to wrap your lips around him, sucking gently. Fingolfin sighed deeply, the noise sending pleasure down your spin. You inhaled through your nose, opening your throat as best you could to accommodate his massive size.

“Good girl,” Fingolfin praised as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. It was a sight that took your breath away — the noble prince with his head tilted back and eyes fluttered shut in bliss at how you made him feel. “Look at you, taking me in that smart mouth of yours so well. It’s like you were made for this, weren’t you?”

Fëanor grunted, beginning to move his hips and thrust in and out of you. He swore, picking up the pace. Fingolfin did the same, gently fucking your face. You were in heaven, the two elven princes filling you up as they found a rhythm that made you see stars. Your body jostled between them like a rag doll, your arms fighting to keep yourself upright as they increased the pace.

The room was filled with the sounds of sex as they mercilessly pounded into you for what felt like hours. Tears spilled down your throat as you gagged on Fingolfin’s cock, taking breaths through your nose whenever you could. Fëanor gripped your hips so tightly you knew there would be colourful bruises the next day — bruises you would be proud to stare at in the mirror.

Your body crescendoed to the release you were denied earlier, beginning to shake as you approached it fast. You began to clench around Fëanor’s cock, and he moaned. “That’s it, pet.” He growled, ploughing into your cunt. “Cum all over my cock like the slut you are. Fucking take it.”

You whimpered, screaming around Fingolfin’s cock as one of Fëanor’s hands reached down between your legs and firmly rubbed your clit. That was all it took for you to explode, shaking uncontrollably as your orgasm took over. You saw white, Fingolfin letting out a loud groan as the vibrations from your noises consumed his cock. Fëanor moaned fiercely, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside you. 

Fingolfin followed a few minutes later, and you eagerly swallowed every drop he spurted down your throat. Your jaw ached and every bone in your body was spent, but you were in heaven. A thin sheen of sweat covered the Princes, their long hair clinging to their muscles as they panted. You collapsed as they pulled out of you, landing on the soft bed as you caught your breath. Wordlessly, the princes began to tend to you. Fingolfin grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand and gently brought it to your lips, smoothing your hair as he did so. Fëanor brought forth a damp cloth, gently wiping you down. They murmured gentle praises, and you basked in the glow of their attention. They settled you under the sheets, each prince taking up residence beside you and caressing your body.

“So…” Fëanor hummed as you began to drift off into sleep. “Who won?”

Fingolfin’s quiet but stern scold was all you heard before you let yourself slip into unconsciousness. 

[sorcerousundries]

A relationship with Fëanor (Moodboard)

[lamemaster]

Elves with morosexual tendencies

AN: Random af idea. Sorry Nerdanel but I cannot resist writng Feanor with this one.

Genre: Fluff

Maedhros✋🏻:

Let's just say elder brother tendencies tend to carry on to other aspects of life. Specifically, when he sees you struggling with "deteriat" for the fifth time. Maedhros stifles a smile, the memory of your early love letters flashing in his mind.

He could still recall the scandalized heat that rose to his cheeks when one enthusiastic letter declared "coitus welcome" instead of "courteous welcome." Another endearing misspelling had him picturing you at court, charming dignitaries as a "courtesan" instead of a "courtier."

"Hey! It's not my fault that your world doesn't offer autocorrect," you mumble, your brow furrowed as you return your attention to the report – a rather dry document on trade routes that desperately needed a touch of your usual spark.

"My love, I am your autocorrect," Maedhros chuckles, his amusement evident as he plops down next to you. He reaches over, gently taking the parchment and circling the misspelled word. "It's 'deteriorate,'" he writes with a flourish, the familiar fondness warming his gaze as he watches you pout playfully.

🌲Beleg🌲:

He is no stranger to this special brand of humans. Turin Turumbar was a handful, but you... you were a different kind of chaos. Beleg blinked, taking in the scene before him. The door to your shared home lay in splinters on the floor, a gaping hole now marking the entrance.

"You did what?" he finally managed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and weary amusement. You stood there, a sheepish grin plastered on your face, your hands twisted together in a nervous knot.

"Listen!" you began, your voice taking on a frantic edge. "The door wouldn't open, and the baker was just leaving these incredibly heavy rolls, and I—"

"And you decided the best course of action was to batter it down?" Beleg interjected, his eyebrow raised. "Because apparently, pulling is a concept that eludes some humans."

"Well, it wouldn't budge!" you protested. "And I needed the rolls for lunch! Besides, I thought perhaps it was just slightly jammed."

Beleg sighed, shaking his head. Maybe living with a human wasn't such a bad idea after all. It certainly kept things interesting. He grabbed a nearby broom and gestured towards the splintered remains of the door.

🔥Feanor🔥:

"We cannot use flamethrowers to melt driveway snow," Feanor declared, his voice laced with a barely contained fury. A vein pulsed ominously in his temple, and his normally fiery eyes seemed to crackle with indignation.

You, however, remained undeterred. "Why not?" you countered, tilting your head in innocent curiosity. "It will get the job done quickly and efficiently."

"And burn the house down in the process?" Feanor retorted, his voice rising in disbelief. Had you truly lost all sense of reason?

"But Feanor," you persisted, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "think of the time we'll save! Plus, the dramatic exit the melted snow will make leading right down to the street? Unforgettable!"

Just then, a curtain twitched across the street, and a bewildered neighbor peeked out their window. "Is everything alright over there? We saw sparks!" they called out, their voice laced with concern.

"Oh nothing just my elf tweaking," you smile blindingly at the neighbor, completely oblivious to Feanor's growing sense of dread.

Feanor groaned, burying his face in his hands. He could picture the headlines already: "Couple Sets House Ablaze in Attempt to Melt Driveway Snow."

The sound of heavy boots stomping towards the front door did little to soothe his nerves. Curufin sauntered out, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and slung the coveted flamethrower over his shoulder with a dramatic flourish.

[theelvenhaven]

Interrupted Lazy Morning

Feanor x Reader 2.1k Words * * * 

You rolled over as your eyes blearily opened as you could feel the slivers of Laurelin meeting your lids. Slowly peeling them open to find that it was now waxing into morning, the sounds of birds sang their soft tunes just outside the open windows. With the white sheer curtains billowing as Manwe’s breeze blew into the room. Offering a comfortable coolness as you hunkered beneath the heavy comforter. 

You could see the way trinkets of beautiful glass sparkled as Laurelin’s light ebbed into the room. The way that it lit up the warmer tones of burgundy tapestries and the golden family crest on them. The furniture even seemed to have a warmth to it, that made it all the more inviting to stay in your room. Not wishing to leave this space.

Though try as you might to grow comfortable beneath the comforter, you could already hear the sounds of little voices beginning to talk. Indicating that your sons were already up and moving and would soon be expecting you to make an appearance. You sighed out, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to muster up the motivation to get up out of the bed. To not give into your desire to be lazy, so for a moment you rolled over. Wishing to see if Feanaro had already gotten up out of bed, and to your surprise your husband was laying there still asleep. 

It was so rare for him to still be in bed at this hour, usually getting out of bed just as Telperion fully waned to get into the forges. But it would appear that you got to have his presence in bed, you rolled over fully onto your side and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Feanaro’s face was fully relaxed and content, instead of the normal furrow that was to his brow, making him look even more beautiful and youthful than he already was. 

His black hair was splayed beneath him, fanning out across his pillows entirely. You heard him release a soft breath at your kiss to his shoulders, your lips cold against his hot skin. You smiled softly to yourself, feeling blissful seeing your husband there relaxed. Too bad you didn’t get to enjoy it you thought to yourself, as you rolled over again, this time throwing your side of the comforter off of you to get out of bed. 

But before you could move to sit up, you had missed the sounds of your husband rolling over, feeling a strong arm wind around your waist. Pulling you across the bed and your back hitting Feanaro’s chest, as you squeaked out in surprise. Between his sneakier motions and the surprising strength he had used with you to keep you in bed. 

“Feanaro..” You argued weakly as he put the comforter back over you, coming to nestle his head behind yours. His grip unrelenting, and you knew even if you tried you weren’t going to be able to escape his hold. 

“The children are awake.” You answered him softly, and only heard him hum in response. Only prompting him to wind his other arm beneath you to hold you in full as if a defiant who cares. 

“Maitimo has them…” Feanaro argued, and while you usually did not like to put on your eldest son the responsibilities of parenting and being the figure in charge- knowing he was his own person- this was one of the rare times Feanaro was putting it on him. They were in fact in safe hands with Maitimo around, and you knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to Tyelko and Carnistir… Makalaure was old enough to help him if need be. At least you knew that was what Feanaro’s argument would be.

“He is our son, not our babysitter.” You countered weakly, feeling a tinge of guilt still at the idea of your eldest being in the parental role. Feanaro hummed at your words, only giving you a squeeze and not releasing you regardless of what your argument was to him. 

“He will be fine if he’s the babysitter for another hour or so.” Feanaro added in his deep voice, almost grumbling as you felt his lips come to press a kiss to your shoulder. For a moment you felt reassured by your husbands argument. Content to be close and trust that you weren’t taking up too much of Maitimo’s time. 

Surely he had plans today with Findekano and the rest of his cousins. Plans that didn’t involve rambunctious little heathens for small elflings, Tyelkormo especially. Whom you could hear loudly yelling and running down the hallway back and forth. His little feet stomping on the floor hard with every step he took. Making you snort. 

“If I could have half the energy that Tyelkormo has…” You breathed out as you closed your eyes, relaxing in Feanaro’s hold. You heard your husband snort out in response to your words, knowing that any elf in Valinor would wish to have a smidgen of the energy he had. If only he knew how to harness it and distribute it…

“Don’t we all wish for it.” He muttered, knowing that was part of the reason why he hadn’t gotten out of bed for the forges this morning. A rare thing when he felt so low on energy that he couldn’t get out of bed to go and enjoy his passion. Though it was nice to be able to lay in bed with you and just relax. Even if Tyelkormo was screaming bloody murder with Maitimo trying to find ways to shush him. 

Bribing him with food, it was a real test of diplomacy trying to get him to comply to anything that wasn’t his idea. Feanaro smirked listening to the retorts, as loud and annoying as it could be on occasions, he certainly wouldn’t trade this for anything. Again he pressed another kiss to you, this time to your neck, lingering for a long moment. Feeling you shudder beneath him as his breath tickled your skin. 

“You have equal energy as he does, I don’t know what you are talking about.” You laughed out, bringing your hand to come and rest over the top of his calloused ones. Feanaro huffed in response, knowing it was true. It was certainly where he got all that energy from. 

“Like father like son I suppose.” You heard him grumble out, feeling him stretch partial against you before he relaxed against you. His body resting close to yours, his chest against your back. You could feel his heart beating, and feel the gentle breathing as it tickled your hair and skin. You closed your eyes again as it grew quiet outside the bedroom. 

Figuring that Maitimo must have been successful in bribing Tyelkormo with food to be quiet. Usually one of the best ways to get him to do something that you needed him too, when it suited him at least. It wasn’t as though you could use outside as a threat or a bribe, it was the only place suitable to entertain his energy. A place that he felt most at peace at and was likely to pick a fight with Carnistir. 

You could feel sleep starting to creep back up over you, your breathing slowing down. Your body relaxing in full, you were perfectly warm with Feanaro against you and the comforter over you. Unbothered by the light of Laurelin that came into your room, dozing off perfectly. Even Feanaro’s grip had loosened against you, indicating he too was falling back asleep. 

That was until you heard;

“MUTINY!” Coming from your fair haired son at the top of his lungs, making you both jump but you could hear the quiet curses under your husbands breath. No sooner did you hear the screaming did you both open your eyes to see your bedroom door fling open so hard it bounced off the wall. With Tyelkormo zooming across the bedroom, still screaming with Carnistir hot on his heels. 

And Maitimo and Makalaure too shushing him and trying to wrangle the two of them, but the tot- Carnistir- only shrieked out when Maitimo tried to grab him. Before you felt Tyelkormo jump into the bed, and Carnistir was at your bedside grabbing the edges of your comforter in an attempt to climb up the bed. Whining as he did so. 

“I DON’T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU HANYO!” Tyelkormo yelled out defiantly as he stood there and you felt Feanaro part from you. Bringing you to move over to the edge of the bed and reach down to grab Carnistir who immediately crawled onto the bed with your aid. Coming over to cuddle you and bury his face in your chest. 

“Tyelko!” Maitimo said firmly, and you watched as your rambunctious son seemed to reconsider it for a moment. His pointing finger seemed to fall halfway, before he decided against it, opening his mouth to speak before you watched as Feanaro reached up to grab Tyelkormo. Pulling him back to lay against the bed, fighting against flailing limbs and yelp of surprise. 

“You know what happens to members who commit mutiny?” Feanaro asked, and you watched as Tyelkormo seemed to grow quiet before shaking his head no at his words, 

“They end up jailed, consider this the start of your sentence.” He quipped out, snugly wrapping his arms around his smaller feisty son. Who began to try and fight against his father, who was much stronger than he was and easily overpowered the little elfling. With your eldest sons only watching on in amusement. 

“Sorry Ontar and Atya, we tried to keep them from coming in here.” Makalaure said out to the two of you, feeling Carnistir move to lay on your whole body. His head turned away from the disaster happening next to you as Tyelkormo continued to flail and try and fight against Feanaro. 

“You’re cheating Atya!!!” Tyelkormo insisted, while you only laughed out. 

“It is alright, I was going to get up sooner, but was roped into being lazy.” You answered him, as you brought a hand to rest on Carnistir’s back and began to rub gently. The three of you turned to look over at Feanaro and Tyelkormo to see that Feanaro somehow had managed to subdue the little elfling who was frowning furiously. 

“Atya you’re a cheater!” Tyelkormo said angrily and with a pout on his lip as he glared up at the ceiling even as Feanaro came over to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“All is fair when you’re committing mutiny, Tyelko.” Feanaro added only making the elfling huff out in response to his words. You snorted out at the situation Tyelkormo found himself in, before you reached over with one hand to pinch his side, making his lips twitch into a smile. Knowing it tickled. 

“Aw look at that pouty face Tyelko.” You said in a high pitched voice, with a lighthearted tone to go with it. Continuously going to pinch his little side, making him squirm and start to laugh out. Trying to wiggle in Feanaro’s hold to get away from you and the small attack Feanaro was enacting in kisses on his face. 

“Ontar! Stop it!” He laughed out as you continued, 

“Only if you yield, anonya.” You laughed out, feeling the dip in the bed as Maitimo and Makalaure both sat on the foot of your bed watching the scene unfold. You continued to tickle him, 

“NEVER!” He screamed out in hysterical laughter, but you knew if you kept it up he’d eventually fold and give in. So you kept at it, while he twisted wildly in Feanaro’s hold, 

“OKAY! I YIELD ONTAR!” With that you immediately stopped, and Tyelkormo finally took some relieved breaths, and you chuckled along with Feanaro at the situation that your wild son had found himself in. 

“How about breakfast?” You said, and before you could get an answer from any of your children you watched as Feanaro gathered Tyelkormo in his arms and stood from the bed. Before slinging the elfling over his shoulder. 

“I think that is a wonderful idea.” He said, before moving to make way towards the door. Carefully you gathered Carnistir in your arms before you too scooted and slid out of bed, putting him on your hip. To which he clutched tightly to you. 

While you would’ve wished for your lazy morning to not have been interrupted, you wouldn’t trade these moments for the world. They were absolutely worth seeing your husband play with your shared children, and you loved seeing it all. 

* * * 

Tags: @saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandomhoe101​ @celebrimbor-telperinquar​ @red-riding​ @miriel-estelwen​ @ta-ka-shi-ma​ @nerdysimpy​ @thegirlwithoutaname87​ @anunexpectedsideblog​ @spidergirla5​ @eunoiaastralwings​ @eternalabysss​ @noldorinpainter​​

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | Dating A Powerful Mage Reader

Request: First off I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart, your writing has brought me much joy. May I please ask for some headcanons for the house of Fëanor dating a gn reader who is a powerful mage?❤️ – @verydazedreamland

A/N: Always a pleasure, luv! Thank you for requesting 🤗

Masterlist | Navigation

➽ Feanor

• Fëanor had, of course, been deeply fascinated by your magic the moment he saw it. Not just fascinated—obsessed. He was relentless in his questioning, dissecting your abilities with the same manic energy he applied to his crafts. When you demonstrated a spell that conjured fire in your palm, he scoffed. “Impressive, but do you shape it? Do you command its form, its intent, its very purpose?” He immediately tried to argue that his own control of fire through forge and creation was more refined. You ended up in a heated (literal) duel where both of you nearly set half of Formenos ablaze before someone intervened.

• He was the worst about stealing your books and magical tools for his own research. “I borrowed it,” he insisted, holding a tome clearly marked with your warding spells. “You had it sealed with magic. So that means you wanted me to open it.” His grin was infuriatingly smug. The book had exploded with a harmless but embarrassing puff of glitter when he cracked it open, a security measure you had placed specifically to deter thieves.

• He refused to acknowledge that your power sometimes outstripped his in areas unrelated to craftsmanship. When you levitated an entire banquet table just to clear space after a feast, he acted unimpressed. “A minor parlour trick. If I had wished to move the table, I would have built something far more elegant than lifting it with brute force.” He was absolutely seething with jealousy but would never admit it.

• He had a tendency to dramatically proclaim your superiority when it suited him. If someone else dared to belittle magic in comparison to smith-craft, he would immediately shut them down. “You dare to question the power of my beloved?” he’d sneer, eyes aflame. “They can summon a storm with a whisper. I have seen them bend the very elements to their will! Tell me, what have you made that can compare.” The poor elf he was berating had only suggested that magic wasn’t as tangible as physical creation.

• He loved when you weaved spells into his creations. The first time you enhanced one of his swords with an enchantment that made it cut through nearly anything, he held it reverently, eyes alight with pure awe. “This is perfection.” Then he turned to you with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “We should create everything together.”

• He hated when your magic got the better of him. The time you charmed his cape to stick to his shoulders no matter what, after he kept discarding it dramatically during arguments, was an infamous incident in the household. “You think this is funny?” he demanded, tugging fruitlessly at the fabric. “You shall rue this day.” You did not, in fact, rue it. You laughed until your sides hurt.

• He had an unfortunate tendency to get too involved in your spellwork. If he saw you preparing a complicated ritual, he would immediately offer (force) his assistance, despite not actually understanding half of what you were doing. “Magic is but another form of craft,” he reasoned, grabbing an ingredient he did not need to be touching. The resulting explosion singed his eyebrows. He sulked for three days.

➽ Maedhros

• Maedhros was more measured in his fascination with your power, though it was clear he found it deeply impressive. He had a quiet, steady admiration for the way you wielded magic, often watching you in silence as you worked. Sometimes you’d catch his thoughtful gaze, and he’d simply say, “It’s…beautiful. The way you command it.” There was a kind of reverence in his voice, as if he saw your magic as an art form rather than just a tool.

• He was, however, keenly aware of the dangers of magic. “Don’t push yourself,” he would warn whenever you performed powerful spells, his voice low with concern. If you overexerted yourself, he would immediately step in, catching you before you could fall. “You do too much. You don’t always have to prove your strength.”

• When he sparred with you, he made sure you fought fairly—no overwhelming magical barrages, no instant teleports. He insisted on strategy and balance. “You can’t rely only on magic,” he told you as he disarmed you during a training session. “A blade is just as effective when wielded correctly.” He handed you back your sword with a smirk. “Try again.”

• He hated feeling helpless when you were injured or drained from magic. The first time he saw you collapse after a particularly intense spell, he panicked. “No, no, stay with me,” he said, his voice tight with barely restrained fear. He held you tightly until you stirred, his grip not loosening for long after.

• He got far too used to your magical conveniences. If you teleported something to him once, he expected it forever. The day you refused to summon his forgotten sword before a battle, he gave you the most betrayed look imaginable. “You did it yesterday.” You stared at him. “And now I’m teaching you responsibility.” He groaned in exasperation.

• He hated your invisibility spells. You once used one to sneak up on him, whispering his name just to startle him. His sword was out before you could blink. “Don’t do that,” he snapped, shoving his blade back into its sheath. “Do you want to get stabbed?”

➽ Maglor

• Fiund your magic utterly enchanting. He had an almost poetic appreciation for it, often weaving its imagery into his songs. The first time he saw you manipulate water into dancing shapes, he composed an entire ballad about it on the spot. “It moves like music,” he said, watching the shifting patterns with awe.

• He was the most dramatic when things went wrong. If you accidentally hexed an object and it backfired on him, he acted like he had been mortally wounded. “This is betrayal,” he declared when his harp started playing dissonant notes at random due to a misfired spell. “You have cursed my art!” He refused to admit he actually found it funny.

• He loved being part of your magical experiments, though he was more cautious than Fëanor. “Are you certain this won’t explode?” he asked warily as you handed him a glowing crystal. When it did explode, he sighed heavily, rubbing soot from his face. “I knew it.”

• He always wanted to see the artistic side of your magic. “Make the lights dance,” he’d say, gesturing toward the sky. He loved when you conjured illusions—patterns of stars, shifting mirages of golden fire. It was pure wonder to him.

• He had a habit of using your magic against you in the pettiest ways. If you irritated him, he would immediately find a way to use a spell you taught him in revenge. “Oh, you’re tired?” he said sweetly, levitating his harp just out of your reach when you tried to take it from him. “If only someone had the energy to retrieve it.”

• He despised teleportation spells when used on him. The first time you teleported him mid-sentence just to cut off his lecture about proper song structure, he was furious. “I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A POINT,” he roared as he reappeared across the room. You had never laughed harder.

• He was, however, always grateful when your magic protected them. “You are a wonder,” he murmured after a battle where your wards had shielded them from an ambush. “I would compose a hundred songs in your name.”

➽ Celegorm

• Celegorm was delighted to be dating a powerful mage. He saw it as the perfect complement to his own skillset—he was a master hunter and warrior, you were a master of the arcane. “You do the magic, I do the stabbing,” he declared proudly. “It’s balance.” You reminded him that your magic could also do the stabbing. He didn’t seem to see the issue.

• He constantly tried to convince you to use magic to cheat at hunting. “Teleport the prey into my hands,” he said, grinning. You refused. “Alright, fine, just use magic to slow it down?” You refused again. “What about a tiny spell? A suggestion in its mind that it wants to be caught?” He was relentless, but you never gave in.

• Huan adored your magic. He was particularly fond of the spells you used to conjure floating lights, chasing them like an overgrown puppy. Celegorm pouted every time Huan responded to you faster than to him. “I raised him,” he grumbled as Huan happily sat at your feet. “And now you’re the favourite.”

• He was far too reckless when asking you to enhance his weapons. “Make my arrows explode,” he said excitedly, handing you his quiver. You stared at him. “Do you want to set yourself on fire?” He seemed completely unfazed by the idea. “I’ll dodge it.” You absolutely did not give him exploding arrows.

• He loved practical magic the most—the kind that made his life easier. When you first demonstrated a spell that could clean gear instantly, he immediately demanded you apply it to all his equipment. “This is the greatest use of magic I’ve ever seen,” he declared as his previously bloodstained armour gleamed good as new.

• He was the worst when you tried to meditate or concentrate on spellcasting. “What’s this one do?” he asked, poking at your ritual set-up. “Tyelko, don’t touch that—” The ensuing magical backlash sent him flying across the room. He groaned from where he landed. “Okay, so that’s what it does.”

• He hated when you teleported away mid-argument. The first time you vanished before he could get the last word, he just stood there, absolutely livid. “YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE!” His voice echoed through the halls as he stormed around looking for you. You heard him ranting even after you’d reappeared hours later.

• He had the absolute gall to demand magic be used for his own convenience but complained when you used it on him. The first time you levitated him out of bed when he refused to get up, he flailed wildly. “THIS IS A VIOLATION OF MY RIGHTS,” he shouted as he hovered helplessly in mid-air. You let him drop unceremoniously onto the floor.

• He had no patience for subtle spellwork—he wanted big magic. “Make the sky change colours,” he urged. “Make fire rain from above—wait, no, don’t actually do that, that was a joke.” He did not like when you demonstrated the actual scale of destruction you were capable of. “Alright,” he muttered after witnessing a storm you summoned, “remind me never to piss you off.”

• He was oddly tender when he saw you exhausted from spellcasting. He never said much in those moments, but he’d gather you in his arms without question, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You push yourself too hard,” he murmured. “Even magic has limits.”

➽ Caranthir

• Acted unimpressed by your magic at first. He hated admitting he found things fascinating, so he pretended it was nothing special. “Hmph,” he grunted the first time you summoned an entire storm with a flick of your hand. “I suppose that’s useful.” You could see the barely restrained awe in his eyes, though.

• Was the worst at dealing with magic he couldn’t control. The time you enchanted his armour to be lighter and more flexible, he refused to wear it at first, claiming it felt wrong. “It’s unnatural,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t like when things don’t behave as they should.” He did end up wearing it, but only after grumbling for a week.

• Took issue with your lack of structure in magic. “How do you know what will happen?” he demanded as you prepared a spell without extensive planning. “It’s instinct,” you said. He hated that answer. “Instinct is how people get killed.”

• He was secretly fascinated by the precision of your magic. He’d never admit it outright, but he observed your spell with the same scrutiny he applied to trade and strategy. He especially admired enchantments that required delicate calculations. “It’s like forging,” he mused once, watching you weave a complex spell. “If you get even one thing wrong, the whole structure collapses.”

• He hated when you used illusions against him. You once created a fake letter to trick him into thinking Curufin owed him money. His reaction was immediate and furious. “THAT BASTARD—” He had already stormed off before you could tell him it was a joke. You had to physically stop a fight.

• He found magical transportation deeply unsettling. The first time you teleported him without warning, he staggered and nearly fell. “DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN.” He needed a full minute to stop looking like he was going to punch something.

• He was surprisingly gentle when tending to you after spell exhaustion. He wasn’t good with words, but his actions spoke for him—holding you close, wrapping his cloak around you, silently pressing a flask of water into your hands. “You should rest,” was all he said, but his grip on your wrist lingered.

• He loved when you made magic useful to him. When you placed protective charms over his belongings to prevent tampering, he looked genuinely pleased. “Good,” he muttered, nodding approvingly. “This will stop certain people from touching my things.” He shot a glare at Curufin.

➽ Curufin

• Was thrilled to be dating a mage. He saw it as an opportunity for limitless collaboration. The first thing he did was start drafting projects that combined his craft with your magic. “We’re going to make something unique,” he promised, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Something legendary.”

• He was absolutely insufferable when you first tried to enchant one of his blades. “Ah, no, you’re doing it wrong,” he declared, immediately trying to ‘fix’ your spellwork. “Curufin, I have been practising magic for decades,” you reminded him. “And I have been forging for centuries,” he shot back.

• He had no patience for spells that weren’t immediately useful. When you demonstrated a beautiful but functionally useless illusion, he just stared. “That’s it?” he asked. “It does nothing?” You sighed. “It’s art, Curufin.” He frowned. “Art should do something.”

• He had a deep interest in magical artefacts, constantly pressing you for knowledge. “How was this enchanted?” he asked, holding up an ancient amulet. “What’s the method? The materials?” He was relentless in his questioning, absorbing everything like a sponge.

• He hated being bested. The time you outwitted one of his traps using magic, he refused to let it go. “I am the master of strategy,” he huffed. “You cheated.” “I used magic.” “Same thing.”

• Incredibly smug when your magic enhanced one of his creations. The first time you strengthened his armour with an unbreakable spell, he smirked. “So you admit it,” he said. “My work is worthy of magic.” You rolled your eyes.

• He was oddly soft in moments when magic drained you. He never said much, just guided you to sit, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Reckless,” he murmured. “But brilliant.”

➽ Amrod

• Loved using your magic for fun—and sometimes, for chaos. He quickly realised that certain spells could be used for pranks, and he was far too eager to participate in your mischief. When you enchanted his brother’s boots to stick to the floor, Amrod collapsed in laughter while Amras cursed you both. “Oh, this is brilliant,” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “We are keeping this spell.”

• He had an unhealthy enthusiasm for magical transportation. The first time you teleported him mid-stride, he whooped in excitement instead of being disoriented. “Again!” he demanded. “No one will ever catch me if I can blink out of the way!” He started pestering you to teach him how to teleport, despite having no magical aptitude whatsoever.

• He was infamously reckless, and your magic became his favourite safety net. He leapt off a cliff once, fully trusting that you’d catch him with levitation magic. You did, but not before letting him plummet just long enough to hear him scream. When he landed safely, he glared at you. “That was unnecessary,” he huffed. You raised a brow. “Was jumping off a cliff necessary?” He grumbled something about ‘dramatic flair.’

• He was the first to challenge you to a magical duel—not because he thought he could win, but because he wanted to see how far he could push you. He came at you with twin blades, grinning wildly as you dodged and countered with spells. When you finally pinned him to the ground with vines sprouting from the earth, he just laughed breathlessly. “That was amazing,” he admitted. “Alright, your magic wins.” Then he grinned up at you. “But I almost got you.”

• He had no patience for long magical incantations or rituals. If he needed something done, he wanted it immediately. “Can you just zap the firewood into a pile?” he asked one evening, rubbing his hands for warmth. You made the logs explode instead. He stared at the smouldering debris and then at you. “Right,” he said slowly. “That’s on me. I should’ve been more specific.”

• He was a terrible student when you tried to teach him minor magic. He had the attention span of a squirrel and constantly got distracted. “Are you even listening?” you asked as he poked at the runes you’d drawn. “Yes, yes,” he waved you off. “Something about channelling energy, focusing my—ow!” He yelped as he electrocuted himself. You smirked. “That’s what happens when you don’t listen.”

• He loved it when you used magic to enhance his hunting. When you silenced his footsteps with a spell, he grinned like a child with a new toy. “I’m unstoppable,” he declared before vanishing into the forest. He promptly fell into a hidden pit because you forgot to mention the spell only silenced noise—it didn’t help him see better.

➽ Amras

• He was a bit more wary of magic than his twin. He respected it but didn’t fully trust it—especially after witnessing some of your more volatile spells. “You do realise half of these things could kill us, right?” he asked dryly after you accidentally blew a hole in a tree during an experiment. “If you ever turn on us, I’m running first.”

• He was extremely particular about magical interference in his domain—hunting. “No magic,” he warned before a hunt. “We do this properly.” That rule lasted until you found a particularly massive beast and he muttered, “Okay, maybe one spell.”

• He was a nightmare to keep track of when he decided to avoid your magic. The first time you tried to locate him with a scrying spell, he dodged it by moving constantly, making your vision blur with shifting images. When you finally found him, he smirked. “Magic’s powerful,” he admitted, “but I’m faster.” You had to grudgingly agree.

• He refused to let you teleport him. “No, I’ve heard the stories,” he said, backing away when you reached for him. “I’ll walk, thank you.” The one time you teleported him anyway, he appeared upside down in a tree. He hung there, blinking. “I hate you.”

• He was actually quite good with magical traps. The first time you showed him how to weave a snare with enchanted threads, he caught Amrod in it immediately. His twin dangled from a tree, yelling. Amras smirked at you. “Best lesson ever.”

• He had a deep appreciation for your ability to manipulate light and shadows. When you used magic to blend into the darkness during a hunt, he was genuinely impressed. “Alright,” he admitted. “That’s actually useful.”

• He was constantly suspicious of enchanted objects after you pranked him too many times. He refused to sit in a chair if he even suspected you had tampered with it. “I know you did something,” he said, glaring at the completely normal chair. He eventually sat—only to find himself stuck in place. You laughed while he cursed.

➽ Celebrimbor

• Celebrimbor was utterly fascinated by your magic. Unlike Fëanor, who saw it as a challenge, he saw it as an art that could enhance craftsmanship beyond imagination. He was constantly asking to study your spells, sketching runes in his notebooks. “What if,” he mused one night, “we infused enchantments directly into the metal during forging?” The resulting experiment ended in an explosion. He was delighted.

• He was extremely meticulous with magical theory. If you cast a spell in front of him, be prepared for an onslaught of questions. “What’s the range?” he asked after you demonstrated a shield spell. “How long does it last? Can it be layered? Does it dissipate naturally or require a dismissal incantation?” You groaned. “Can’t you just enjoy the magic?” He grinned. “This is how I enjoy it.”

• He was the only one who actually studied your spellbooks instead of just skimming for the flashy parts. The first time he cast a minor enchantment correctly, he looked so pleased with himself. “Did you see that?” he asked, eyes bright with excitement. “I did it!”

• He was always working on enchanted objects, many of which he designed specifically for you. When he presented you with a ring that amplified your power, he watched you put it on with something close to nervous anticipation. “Try it,” he urged. You cast a spell and felt it surge through you, stronger than ever. His smile was pure joy.

• He had a terrible habit of muttering spell theories at inappropriate times. You once caught him whispering about rune structures during a feast. “Tyelpë,” you hissed, nudging him. “We are eating.” He blinked at you. “Oh. Right. Food.” He barely paid attention as he continued scribbling in his notebook.

• He was absurdly competitive when crafting magical items. If you enchanted something, he immediately tried to improve upon it. “Your fire gem is strong,” he admitted, inspecting it, “but what if we stabilised the energy with an embedded lattice structure” The next day, he presented you with his version—twice as refined. You gaped at him. “Did you sleep?” He waved you off. “Details.”

• He adored seeing you work, often sitting silently just to watch your magic unfold. When he saw you manipulate raw energy into a tangible form, he whispered, “It’s beautiful.” It was rare to see him so openly in awe, but when it came to you, he always was.

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @ladyenchanted @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora @elficially-done-with-life @feanorynz @6esi @eunoiaastralwings @will-0-wsps

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[glykerniaz]

The Ashamed Corner

ᅠᅠ 𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ pre-angban!maedhros x top!reader ⋆.˚ ⠀𓄼

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ✎ᝰ. ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 

( synopsis. ) You have been Maedhros' lover for a long time. You and him often have different experiences together, including sex, and this time you want to make it a little more exciting to relieve some of the pressure on him..

( tags. ) top!reader , bottom!maedhros , lick , climax , male reader , semi-public , smut , lick-nipples , blowjob , oral sex , semi-public sex , multiple ejaculation.

( a/n. ) I'm sorry I'm late, but sir, I've already submitted your work. @sh1-n0bu

Maedhros, the red-haired elf, let out a sweet moan as he squirmed uncontrollably.

His trembling legs were wrapped tightly around your waist, as if desperately clinging to you in this embarrassing situation.

His sweet voice broke in spurts as your invasive tongue toyed with his lips.

His soft opening clenched your massive shaft like a starving beggar savoring his last meal. He was too shy to even look you in the eye.

Maedhros never expected to be pinned against a secluded street corner like your little whore, like he was your plaything.

And it was even more shameful when anyone passing by might see them.

"D-don't tease me!"

His flushed ears twitched adorably, just like his massive cock in your hand as you roughly violated his beautiful rear and battered his prostate.

Your impossibly huge cock made the red-haired elf prince feel like he was in heaven.

The more sounds of passing elves there were, the tighter Maedhros gripped your shaft.

His moans were melodic and cute, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes like works of art.

His muscular frame trembled and pressed against the brick wall of the street corner.

His hands clawed at the wall, leaving marks.

Our lips tried to stifle the moans but often failed, as you kept kneading and tugging at his pink nipples, fucking him until he saw the stars of the Varda behind his eyelids.

Maedhros would bet that if you kept this up, and if he were a woman, he might have gotten you pregnant by now, dozens of times over.

Shameful, but delightful.

Your relentless assault had reduced his stress to nothing but carnal bliss.

"Harder!! Hnng-ahhh, d-do it again!"

"Harder! Ah, ah, ah-I'm going to come!!"

He cried out shamelessly, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth, hair disheveled.

Not even in a bedroom, and you'd fucked him to completion twice already.

"Good boy, come for me."

"Let everyone know who you belong to."

You growled in your throat, gritting your teeth at him as he clung to you so tightly your cock could barely move inside him, his beautiful ass clenching and fluttering like a wanton harlot.

"Ahhh, aaaaahhh!"

And with indescribable bliss, your beautiful prince came, splattering his thighs.

His ass gripped your cock tightly, just as it had hoarded your previous release inside him.

His pants on the ground were stained with his own seed.

His back arched off the wall in the street, pulling your hair down to kiss you hungrily.

His eyes were hazy and dreamy, like he was in a trance.

"My prince," you murmured in his ear, peppering his cheek with kisses, still rolling your hips to tease his pliant, fluttering hole.

He panted, boneless, but his legs remained wrapped tightly around your waist, as if it were instinctual and natural.

When you brutally assaulted his prostate, making him moan like a deflowered princess, his hand weakly came up to lightly bat at your chest.

"Ahhh~ Satisfy me, you wicked demon!"

Maedhros gently pushed at your chest, as you kept kissing and nuzzling his skin, insatiable. "Hngg—l..let me catch my breath..."

You ignored him, continuing to lavish attention on his curves, like a woman's.

Your mouth latched onto his nipple, as if trying to suckle from it.

"You're insatiable! Ahhh!"

His hand tangled in your hair, pressing your head harder against his chest.

His softened cock was rising again between his legs as his freshly relaxed hole began clenching and fluttering around your massive shaft once more.

You set to work again, and he could only bury his face shyly in the crook of your neck.

He pleaded to Eru that this wouldn't be the last time you fucked him in this secluded street corner, in public.

And that no one would ever know what was being done to him.

He was so ashamed.

But when he got home, he'd ride you until you were spent!

dividers ➵ @.chachachannah @.anitalenia @.cafekitsune

[batsyforyou]

Celegorm/Curufin/Celebrimbor/Feanor Sleep Headcanons

Pairing: Celegorm x reader, Curufin x reader, Celebrimbor x reader, Feanor x reader

Author’s Note: Blanket Series! 

The one thing that these four elves have in common is the amount of work they put in. 

They either go to bed late 

Or never

What's worse is that they all have the same family stare when they sleep. 

Each of their eyes glow and they stare straight ahead, kinda like the goa'uld with their glowing eyes but instead of the white of their eyes glowing, it's the iris.

Feanor passed it to Celegorm, and Feanor also passed it to Curufin who then passed it to Celebrimbor 

It's a family trait 

But between the four of them Celegorm and Celebrimbor are the most likely and willing to cuddle you and kiss you at night.

Between Celegorm and Celebrimbor though, Celebrimbor is way more romantic 

Verses Curufin and Feanor who kiss their forges goodnight and put it to bed before they ever see you

Though Celegorm is the first to go to bed out of all of them

Celegorm

Probably the easiest Feanorian to corral into bed 

If he’s busy at his desk and if you ask him to come to bed he’ll give you a half hearted wave and tell you to go to bed. But if you kiss his cheek and use the magic word (please) he’ll come join you. 

And I don’t want to give you the impression that he doesn’t care for his work and doesn’t take it seriously. He takes it very seriously. But he takes care of your happiness first. 

He’ll wrap himself around you and bury you in his arms and smooch you til his heart's content. 

Sometimes he’ll try to see if you're willing for more but most of the time he’ll leave his shenanigans for morning. 

He snores very softly and you normally don't hear it 

And because he so active during the day he doesn’t move at night 

And like I mentioned before he’s got his daddy’s stare 

Though his open eyed stare is bright. His eyes are like two active search lights from Gotham City (Batman) just piercing the dark. That or two up close nightlights. 

Overall Celegorm is an 7/10 sleep buddy

Curufin

Getting this one into bed is a fight in itself. 

He would come with you unless you’ve begged for like 30 minutes

Curufin is another elf that doesn’t know how to cuddle. He thinks you take up too much bed space but unlike Maeglin he has no problem telling you about it.

“Move over, your elbow is on my side.” 

He doesn’t really learn 

So the only way to get this one to cuddle is if you lay on top of him and press your nose into the crook of his neck. 

He just melts when you do and the silver tongue is to put to rest

He dreams pretty frequently. But it's sometimes like watching a cat dream he’ll just twitch every once and a while 

He doesn’t move and roll around and sleeps on his back 

And he never snores not once but on the few times he does the snore is really cute and you never let him live it down. 

Overall Curufin us a 7/10 sleep buddy

Celebrimbor 

Celebrimor is someone who loves to savor your touch 

He loves holding you close to him and burying his head into the crook of your neck to just breathe you in

He lives to hold you 

He lives to kiss you especially. 

And he will kiss your nose every night before bed and every morning when you wake up 

Is addicted to cuddles but is sometimes embarrassed about craving your soft touch.

So he won’t really tell you that he wants any. Instead he’ll invite you to him so it’ll come off as more of an offer and your idea then his.

When he’s really fixated on what he’s doing you have to drag him away from either the forges or his desk. 

When you're not around he can and will and has slept on his desk atop of his papers.

When in bed though he typically sleeps on his back with you using his arm as a pillow 

But he’s would love to sleep with you on his back while he slept on his stomach

It’d knock him right out 

Overall Celebrimbor is a 9/10 sleep buddy

Feanor

Huh? 

Who? 

Where? 

Good luck reigning this one in, he’s a nightmare to settle into bed

Feanor another one that doesn’t understand the definition of rest. He practically lives in the forges so you’ll have to find a way to persuade him to go to bed. Idk how but good luck soldier 

But ah *coughs* I’ll stay that acts of intimacy go a long way *cough cough*

When he does sleep, he sleeps on his side. He stares straight ahead with glowing eyes. His eyes glow the brightest out of the four but instead of it being a glow it's more a gentle lapping flame that flickers every once and a while.

Cuddles? If you're lucky. He’s mostly staring up at the ceiling thinking about all the cool projects that he could get up to. 

Mostly because it's like you're sleeping with a literal heater and he doesn’t want to sweat at night.

Overall Feanor is a 6/10 sleep buddy

Masterlist

[animatorweirdo]

Mermaid AU: Imagine meeting the feanorians

Requested by Anon

Hello! Congratulations on the 500 followers!! May I please request imagine meeting the House of Feanor as mermaids? (Like your horse of Fingolfin one but this one with the Feanorians?) thank you!!!

(I left Maglor out since I have a mermaid series out for him and I had no ideas for Caranthir. Curufin seemed like someone who would never come to land for any reason, but he gets mentioned. I hope you like this)

Warnings: mentions of getting yanked in the water, pranked, mentions of not knowing how to swim, a bit angst, flirted on, and being Feanor's wingman.

-------------------------

It was a prominent rule for the merfolk never to approach the lands or humans. However, it did not stop some curious mers from coming to the surface, and coincidentally, you just happened to become the target of pranks and mischiefs of certain feanorians.

 

Maedhros 

- Maedhros was a stickler for the rules when it came to the surface and the humans. 

- He used to be rebellious during his youngling years, visiting the nearest human islands, following humans around on their boats, and trying to see what made them so dangerous. 

- He was the one who discovered the cave beneath the old shipwreck and made it into his and his brothers’ little hideout, filling it with old human items and things he would find at the bottom of the sea like collectibles. 

- But when he grew and matured, he began following the rules more often and avoided going near the surface or any human-populated areas. Nowadays, he only swam to the surface to fetch his younger brothers from the hideout or the beaches where they like to play around and do foolish things. 

- He nearly regretted introducing the old hideout to his brothers because now they hang around there constantly, especially Celegorm.  

- He also didn’t think having responsibilities and being the more mature one out of all of his brothers was such a difficult job. He now understood how his parents felt whenever he felt rebellious. 

- He would usually let his brothers have fun at the beaches till they got tired and were more willing to go home, but one day, his brothers decided to spy on humans at the docks and take a chance to prank one human relaxing at a lone pier– you. 

- You were reclining at the pier's edge, engrossed in a book, your bare feet gently dipping into the water. You were minding your own business, not bothering anyone.

-His brothers had a great idea of grabbing your foot to make you paranoid, but before Maedhros could stop them, one of his brothers underestimated his strength and accidentally yanked you into the water. 

- His brothers were startled by the sudden outcome of their prank and swam away. Maedhros was about to follow till he noticed you were struggling to stay above the surface and climb back on the pier. 

- It didn’t take long for him to realize you didn’t know how to swim, and despite his instincts telling him to follow the rules and leave you be – he decided to ignore them for the first time and help you so his brothers wouldn’t end up getting blamed for causing your death. 

- You were startled when you felt hands push you out of the water and help you climb back on the doc. 

You were experiencing a panic attack after being pulled into the water, and seeing a tall, red-haired merman did not help your nerves to calm down. Maedhros decided to stay, attempting to ease your panic before anything bad could happen to you.

- He was luckily experienced handling panic attacks thanks to certain incidents with his brothers and relatives, so with his voice, he calmed down your nerves, and you slowly started breathing normally. 

- After getting through the panic and the initial shock of seeing his red tail, you accusingly asked if it was him who yanked you into the water. 

- Maedhros calmly explained what happened, and you chastized his brothers for not understanding what was a fun joke and what was not. 

- Even your brother’s constant jokes about ghosts and spirits were less annoying and didn’t get you purposely wet. 

- You grabbed Maedhros's finned ear to check if it was real, but he quickly pulled away and scolded you for indecent touching.

- You talked back and told him his brothers owed you a new book since it got ruined after your sudden dip into the water. It was brand new as well. 

- Maedhros felt frustrated by your stubbornness but came up with a solution to make it up to you. He offered a valuable treasure so you could turn it into money and buy a new book with it. And that you would also keep quiet about the whole incident. 

- You accepted the offer and told him he didn’t need to worry about you revealing anything about him since most humans don’t believe merfolks even exist. Who would exactly believe you even if you did say anything about the incident? 

- Understanding your logic, Maedhros was more comfortable and went to the old hideout to find anything valuable to you. 

- He picked up something old, trimmed with gold, and an old journal that once belonged to the shipwreck's captain. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling you might like it so he decided to bring it as an additional gift. He had heard humans had a love for history. 

- Maedhros went to the beach you two agreed to meet on. He waited at the rocks till you arrived in a new set of clothes, having gone home to change from the wet ones. 

- You were intrigued by the item he brought and even more fascinated with the journal. 

- You were aspiring to become a researcher of things lost in the past, so you were going through the journal like an excited child. 

- Even Maedhros found himself interested when you began telling about the captain the journal belonged to and that they might have been an important figure. He had read the journal once out of curiosity, but hearing something new piqued his interest in learning more about the captain. He had always loved stories.

- The whole day was spent reading and talking about the journal’s owner. Maedhros asked questions, and you answered gleefully everything you knew. It was like you had turned into another person. Maedhros found it endearing in a way. Not to mention, his old hideout had now a story added to it. 

- But when he noticed the sun settling down in the distance, he bid you farewell and prepared to leave since he needed to return home before his family would get worried. You asked if you could meet again, and he felt conflicted. 

- He liked listening to you and would have loved to hear more stories from the human world, but his kin had rules, and he couldn’t break them just to sate his curiosity and desire to know more. 

- You were understanding of his reasoning even though you looked slightly sad. No one had listened to you as much as he did. The two of you bid farewells and returned to your respective homes.

- Maedhros felt disappointed with the rules for the first time in years. You didn’t seem like a terrible human, and listening to you talk and ramble about the journal had been a freshener for him. But, he had his life at the sea, and you had yours at the lands. So, it’s simply better to try to move on and see what the future will bring. 

Celegorm 

- Celegorm had always been a rebel against the rules. 

- He would often swim away to the nearby islands to observe the humans, follow them around, and see what kind of pranks he could pull on them without them noticing him. It was thrilling for him. Not to mention, he sees them all the time on his hunts with Orome, so the rules didn’t mean much to him. 

- One day, when he was leisuring around at a nearby beach, he noticed your boat floating around. 

- You didn't seem to be doing anything interesting, just lying on your boat with your fishing rod in your hands and the hook in the water.

- Seeing an easy target out of you, Celegorm decided to tease you by gently tugging the hook, making you think it was a fish eating the bait. 

- You noticed and prepared to pull the hook up. Celegorm snickered and then yanked the string hard, trying to trick you into thinking a fish had taken the bait. You quickly pulled up the hook, and it scratched Celegorm in the cheek on its way up. 

- It was sudden, and his cheek began slightly bleeding from the cut. 

- Agitated and forgetting the rules, Celegorm swam up to confront you for the cut on his face, even if it was his fault for playing with the hook. 

- You were startled when he suddenly burst out of the water, holding on to your boat and staring at you in the eyes while pointing at the cut on his face. 

- It led to an awkward silence after he told you what happened and demanded you take responsibility for cutting his face. 

- You stared at each other for a moment till you placed your fishing rod away and pulled out a box. Celegorm curiously watched as you pulled out a band-aid and gently placed it across the cut on his face. He felt strange since the thing stuck to his face, but it made the pain stop, so he didn't complain. 

- You two then started talking on the boat even if Celegorm's weight nearly made the boat barely stay on the surface. 

- You two talked about things, humans, his kin, and he even shared what it was like hunting beneath the ocean. 

- Celegorm liked how calm you were, unlike other humans who would have most likely screamed in panic at the sight of him. He might have even thrown a few pickup lines to tease you and see your reaction. You always laughed. 

- When it became late, you asked if you could see him again, and Celegorm was excited by the idea and agreed— right after teasing if you had fallen for his ethereal beauty. 

- He even helped you get back home by pushing the boat, but his enthusiasm about the idea made it go a bit fast, and you were genuinely scared by the speed. 

- You two met again by a nearby shore. You brought food and things he might be interested in, and it became a little tradition. 

- Sometimes, you two would go swim together and dive around the reefs. Celegorm would introduce you to all the flora and fishes he knew and sometimes let you hang onto him while he swam so you could keep up. 

- One day, he brought his seal companion, Huan, to meet you, and you simply adored the friendly creature. For that, you brought your dog to meet him, and Celegorm loved your furry canine friend even if the fur stuck to his skin. It was a day he learned he liked soft furry things.

- You two grew an odd friendship, and Celegorm would sometimes bring one of his brothers to meet you despite the rules. You would make an effort to be polite and nice to them even if it was Curufin, one of the sternest rule-followers in the world. And Celegorm would make an effort to be fun and good to your siblings if you had any. 

Ambarussa 

- The twins had been nearly as rebellious as their older brothers. They like to join their brothers on little expeditions outside their city, especially to the nearby human islands. 

- They would take the chance to join in pranks and play games where they have to avoid getting noticed by humans. 

- Your meeting with them had been purely an accident. 

- You were on the beach where Ambarussa and their brothers liked to hang around. When the two noticed you, they decided to play a prank on you and see what would happen. They had played pranks on humans so many times that it had become like second nature to them, and you were an easy target. 

- At first, the two were just throwing small pebbles toward you, making you look around in confusion and slightly paranoid that you were alone. 

- They then started targeting you and even threw seaweed at you, which gave them a laugh when you shrieked at the wet sensation of the seaweed on your hair. 

- You grew agitated and finally heard them laugh behind the rocks. You assumed they were just two random boys from the city and decided to ambush them. 

- You quietly sneaked around the rocks, hearing their snickering and laughter become louder. 

- When you were close enough, you jumped out, but instead of surprising them -- you shrieked at the sight of their tails and the realization that they were no human boys. 

- The twins were surprised by your ambush, and you all screamed at each other. When you stopped screaming, you three then just awkwardly stared at each other.

- And that was how you met and became friends with them for your annoyance. 

- You are not certain how it even started. You first tried forgetting the whole incident and making yourself believe it was just a figment of your imagination, but then the twins started showing themselves to you whenever they saw you. 

- They were so annoying about it and would sometimes pop out with other humans around, and the only way to stop them was to agree to meet with them at the lonely beach. 

- Honestly, you seemed to be more worried about keeping the two mers secret and hidden from the human eye than they themselves, and they have rules to stay away from humans. 

- You found them annoying but eventually found fun in their company. They make funny jokes here and there, but sometimes they just make you lose your marbles. 

- The twins something brought things from their hideout to show you and hear what you knew about them. It was interesting, and you made a habit of bringing stuff from lands as well— items and sweets they might like. They grew to love the sweets and often nag you to bring more. 

- Swimming with them was fun since they would bring you around the reefs and introduce you to fishes and animals you had not seen before. However, you refuse racing with them or diving since they had a bad habit of being rough about it, or that you couldn't breathe underwater like they did. 

- The two tried several times to play a prank where you would mix them up, but you had an unkeen ability to tell them apart, so it was an exciting challenge for them. 

- Sometimes, the two looked like they were rivaling for your attention. 

- You do not know where your life is going, but secretly, you enjoy being around them, but you will never admit it to them, or otherwise, they will get it in their heads to make your life even more annoying. 

Feanor

- Feanor had followed the rules most of his life, but he sometimes liked going to the nearby beach to design his newer ideas in peace and silence, but far from humans so his father wouldn't get worried. 

- He wasn't much interested in humans. He finds their contraptions and boats interesting and would sometimes follow them to figure out how they worked. But anything else, he would stay in his lone place and do his own thing. 

- His lone place was nearly scary to him. It was far from humans and mers. It had a nice shallow reef and had a good spot for sunbathing. It was also the place where he met Nerdanel for the first time. 

- She was swimming around the reef and tried to observe humans since she was curious about them. Her beauty and adventurous nature captivated him the first time he saw her. 

- However, he didn't know how to work out the courage to ask her to court him. His confidence and way with words always seemed to vanish when he was around her – till he got help from the least expected creature, you, a human. 

- He was working on another piece of a project one day, trying to enjoy the peace, but his half brothers had decided to follow him and disrupt his peace. 

- Fingolfin nagged about the rules while Finarfin wandered around the reef, fueled by his youngling curiosity. At his age, he didn't fully grasp the concept of rules or the dangers surrounding him. Feanor could only wonder if Indis had been such an airhead herself to pass these traits to her son. 

- Feanor was prepared to give them a piece of his mind and tell them to leave him alone till Finarfin called out to them and pointed something at the beach in excitement. 

- You were on the beach collecting seashells, unaware of them hiding in the rocks. 

- Fingolfin insisted they leave before you noticed anything, but Feanor wasn't willing to depart yet. His project remained unfinished, and he was confident you would eventually leave as long as they remained quiet.

- The quiet part was left in the dust as the two started bickering. Finarfin in his excitement swam up to you to greet you. 

- The two did not notice till Finarin caught their attention again and saw you standing over the rocks, staring at them with a surprised expression. 

- Fingolfin panicked and swooped his tail to splash a wave of water at you. You shrieked in surprise as the tide pushed you off the rocks, making you hit your head and fall unconscious. 

- Finarfin started crying, fearful for your wellbeing while Fingolfin decided to take him and return home before things escalated, leaving Feanor alone with your unconscious self. 

- Feanor was angry at the two. By the rules, he should leave, but his instincts told him to stay and see if you were injured. He ignored the rules and crawled over the rocks to check on you.

- Just because his half-brothers were indecent. It didn't mean he had to be. 

- It took some time for you to wake up, but he was relieved you didn't seem to bear any injuries from the fall. 

- You didn't panic when you saw him, which got him curious, and you two then just started talking about things. 

- You spent time talking on the rocks, discussing your respective peoples and the significant differences between them. You felt a twinge of disappointment when you learned that Finarfin had left with his other brother. You found him absolutely adorable and would have been curious to have a conversation with Fingolfin.

- Feanor would slightly scoff and tell you wouldn't have missed much talking to his half-brother. 

- You recognized his disdain for his half-brothers and asked him to give Finarfin at least a chance since he didn't seem like a bad kid. 

- Feanor would stubbornly refuse but admit there might have been some truth in your words. Then an unusual friendship was born between you two. 

- Feanor started visiting you out of desire to know more about the human world. He was an avid questioner, so you would bring him books to read and try to explain everything you knew about the subject. You would even bring him items and gadgets for him to look over and show how they worked. 

He had a love for languages and would eagerly pore over all the dictionaries you had, attempting to learn a human language or two. It was even more fun teaching him your native language, and in return, he would teach you a word or two in his. 

- His visits would become common occurrence, and since he was interested in rocks and metals, you made a habit of bringing him stones and jewels as gifts, especially those that couldn’t be found in the ocean. 

- Feanor might have forgotten to tell you that giving valuable stones as gifts was a courting tradition among his people– but since you looked happy and continued bringing him them as a friendly gesture, he kept it to himself since he was also too invested in the next rock you might bring to him. 

- Then the day finally arrived when you saw him talking with Nerdanel. You spied on him from the beach and watched how nervous he was around her, and when she was gone, you couldn’t help but surprise him, excited about the ongoing romance. 

- Feanor, for the first time in Merfolk’s history, would have a heart attack by your sudden appearance and the fact that you saw him talk with Nerdanel. 

- You would nag him to tell you about Nerdanel and if he was going to ask her out sooner or later. You will not have it if he plans on just fidgeting like a lovesick fool. 

- Feanor would take serious offense for you calling him a fool and demanding what you knew about courting and asking someone on a date. 

- Unfortunately for him,  you had a clear plan to help him together with his crush, and that’s how your journey as a merman’s wingman began. 

- Since you couldn't come to the sea or to the depths where he lived, you had to give him suggestions from the land on how he could win Nerdanel’s heart and wait for the results. 

- Feanor did not want to admit it, but your plan and suggestions worked better than he had hoped. He once prided himself on being able to do everything without anyone’s help, yet your ideas had helped him finally push out of the fear zone and interact with Nerdanel. 

- He finds your grins and the face you give him annoying when he comes back to tell how his dates with Nerdanel went, and you just go, ‘I told you so,’

- He began to learn more about Nerdanel, and her charming nature and passion for sculpting just made him fall for her even harder. He had great respect for her, and the final push for him to finally ask to court her was gifting her a birthstone he turned into a piece of jewelry.

- He wouldn't have been able to do it since the birthstone couldn’t be found anywhere else but in the land, but thanks to you, it was possible, and he was finally courting Nerdanel. 

- You will definitely tease him about his newfound romantic life, but that was fine by him. He will have to figure out a way to repay you for your help since without you, he would have most likely remained as the romantic fool.

[autumnshighlady]

if i wrote reader insert fics with characters from the Silmarillion would anyone read them?

[starlight-incarnate]

House of Feänor as Aesthetics:

Fëanor  —  loud voice, commanding presence, analytical, natural leader, piercing eyes, foggy hillsides, black boots, tipping their head back to breathe the air, mirrored lakes and everything below the surface, tearing leaves from trees, blunt sarcasm, long dark hair, deep sleeper, rotting tree stumps, black leather jacket, songs that makes you want to create a storm, rebellious, ambition, unstoppable passion, fast trains, polaroids, empty castles.

Maedhros — walking silently, stronger due to all the stuff meant to kill them, ignoring their mental health issues, fiery red hair, crumbling marble, oversized hoodies, raw voice, lingering touches, faint music in the distance, calming down from a panic attack, long heavy cloaks, cold hands, disillusioned with the world, insomnia, unhealthy habits, sighs made visible by cold night air, strong hugs, never sleeps, loud music, freckles, dark under-eyes.

Maglor — hypnotising smiles, a broken mind, melancholy, driving through mountains and the woods, iced coffee, the faint feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, ripped jeans, tight hugs, whispered compliments, deep conversations, late night texts, nimble hands, thin blades, white lilies, vertigo, unkept journals, lightning and thunder, rhythms so raw the heartbreak is showing, shattered glass, walking alone on a cold night, silver necklaces, regret.

Celegorm — bright eyes, climbing rock formations, cold-hearted, hard breathing after running, wood cabins, gladiator arenas, wicked smiles, twisted branches, wild hair, growing more and more dangerous, night drives, adrenaline rushes, bruises, bloody cloaks, running from society, breathless laughing, that animalistic unpredictability, silver and leather bracelets, strong coffee after a sleepless night, city lights from a high rise, addiction, barking dogs, hurricanes.

Caranthir — ironic smirks, bitten nails painted black, lightning in summer, empty threats, sunglasses hiding dead eyes, thick chain jewellery, temperamental, goes to car races just to watch the crashes, deep glares, tongue/lip piercings, midnight walks, lightbulbs burning out, diamonds, crushed ice, a glint of cat eyes in the dark, gold coins in storm drains, cold hands, storm clouds rolling in, theatres, suppressed emotions, wrought iron gates, motorcycles. 

Curufin — cherries and Diet Coke, white marble, a studio apartment on the 67th floor, tattoos, neon lights, sweetened coffee, smudged makeup, too-loud music, cursive notes written in red ink, veiny forearms, sharp canines, fresh snowfall, high rise buildings, white light, sheer robes with nothing underneath, fog, stained glass windows, colourful hair, slow heartbeats, long-forgotten love, cold mountaintops, eternal silence.

Amrod — burnished copper, feverish eyes, hues of orange and gold, stars and spades, brewing tea, freckles, hardwood floors, poisonous flowers, listens to Hozier, messy hair, fake circle glasses, bullet point notes on a restaurant napkin, comfortable silence, broken wings on insects, old hungers, the whispering of trees, kicking stones on deserted paths, forgotten places, origami stars, old overgrown stone castles, morning mist, horse riding.

Amras  —  misplaced keys, wandering aimlessly, selectively mute, deep lakes hiding secrets, pine trees, restless nights, misunderstood, reliving the same day over and over again, graphic tees, dead moths, visual mind, muffled screams into a pillow, listens to asmr, doc martens, profanity, burned cigarettes, zoning out often, heart fluttering nervously, confusing satellites for stars, comic filled bookshelves, radios, old jeeps, glowing keyboards.

Celebrimbor — ravens, white-hot metal, the darkest shade of black, glittering skin, low waist pants, stars falling, the heat lingering in the evening, petals falling off dead flowers, trusting the wrong people, blue veins, cobblestone paths, linoleum tiles, bruises/scars easily, the heat lingering in the evening, cities awake late, card games, overanalysing everything, shiny fabrics, the slamming of a shot glass, the sting of betrayal.

[doodle-pops]

This is super adorable!!! 🥰🥹

@doodle-pops last headcanons with Feanorians w/Human reader just hit all the right spots so i had to doodle sth!

Having adhd conversations with Feanor ✨

(honestly tho i loved it go read!! Snxsnn)