#fëanor being a dilf | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

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Hiii, thanks for opening requests! I'd love something NSFW with human!Reader x Feanor or Thranduil plus ❛ do not be afraid, little one. i will not hurt you. ❜

Thxxxx

notes: (I went for Fëanor bc this was my first request for him) ok so Fëanor meeting a human would be canonically impossible so here's my AU where Fëanor lives and Nerdanel has mysteriously passed away for convenience purposes AHAHA (I absolutely adore her though, don't get me wrong). I feel like he was quite OOC in this but I hope that the plot explains his behaviour was because he doesn't want to frighten off his only resource for understanding this 'strange race of mortals' lol. Perhaps I'm being too critical of myself and you all will enjoy this either way

pairing: Fëanor x Reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: NSFW content, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, oral (fem receiving), size kink, hand kink (blink and you'll miss it), hair pulling

☾ ⋆ﾟ MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

Do not be afraid, little one. I will not hurt you

You had travelled outside the borders of Brethil for yet another hunt, wanting to escape from everyone and everything for a little while, to simply be outdoors. Your parents had been talking of arranging a marriage for you for years now but as of late they seemed to be taking it very seriously and had arranged meetings for you with two suitors, both of which you turned down. You didn’t want to marry, not anytime soon, anyway. You felt that it would restrict you to a home full of children that you would never be able to get a break from, that you would be torn from the freedom and peace that you found in the outdoors, from the success and productivity you felt when you returned home with good game. You didn’t want to say goodbye to that forever, not when you had so much time for it left. Marrying was not yet necessary.

You knew that you were pushing the borders of Caranthir’s realm by now. You had seen the maps but knew little of their history: the more you stayed out, the less people knew you, the less suitors came knocking on the door. All you needed to know was how not to get lost, not who drew the borders.

You had set up camp for the night, a small shelter of branches, your bedroll and a small campfire while your tools were laid out beside you. Making arrows had once been an activity that you did at home, but with your parents’ constant nagging to get married, you found that this too would be done outdoors, not wanting to spend long in the house at all. You were sanding down the shafts of a few new arrows to assure that they were straight, holding it up to your eye every now and then and using the light from the fire to determine whether or not you had got all the kinks out. You began measuring out where the feathers would need to be placed when a scent hit your nose. It smelled fresh, not earthy but floral and clean. Someone was out here with you and they were far too close for comfort.

You knocked one of your finished arrows and leapt to your feet, peering around in the darkness.

“Easy, I wish you no harm.” You spun around and found yourself having to raise your arm significantly just to aim at his head. He was tall. His hair was long and dark and he was beautiful, his pointed ears telling you that he was not of your kind. The look of distrust must have burned like wildfire on your face for this elf, who was very clearly much larger and stronger than you, to put his hands up in a gesture of peace. You lowered your bow.

“I thought elves had lighter hair.” You spoke, wanting to try and provoke any ill behaviour now before he could have the chance to catch you off guard.

“I am no Sinda.” He replied simply and you pursed your lips, thinking back to some of the soldiers of King Thingol that you had encountered on your hunts.

“Then you must be the other sort of elf, the one which the Sindar do not like.” There was a look of both annoyance and amusement on his face. You wondered if he was trying to be patient with you. You hoped to wear any facade of his thin.

“You would be right, many of the Sindar would see the Noldor gone from these lands.”

“So I’ve heard.” You returned to sit on your bed roll, picking up your charcoal to continue marking out your arrows.

“It is rare that I see hunting parties of mortals in my son’s lands.” Your eyes flickered back up to him at that. His son? But if his son was one of the Princes that ruled over a realm of Beleriand, wouldn’t that make him a King? A part of you now wished that you had studied the history of those maps.

“We don’t usually go so far into these borders but have decided to extend our trip a little longer.”

“And where is the rest of your party, might I ask?” You paused for a moment before slotting your arrow into the stand, picking up the clamped feathers and applying the adhesive.

“Around.” You replied, pushing it towards the fire to allow it to set faster, “I’m not the most sociable person.” There was an edge to his voice that told him to go away, that you didn’t like how he was trying to figure out if you were alone out here.

“I have little interest in tormenting you, mortal. In any other case, I would have begun the moment I saw you simply because I pleased.”

“You could attack me at any moment, should it please you. How comforting.” You quipped and he frowned.

“You are very distrustful.” He noted.

“I am a mortal woman, it comes naturally. I distrust what could kill me and I distrust men – the two are often synonymous.”

“So you prefer to seclude yourself?”

“Oh, would you stop being so observant for five minutes while I try to figure you out?” You asked as you plucked up one of the arrows that had already been cut and feathered, beginning to taper off its end by curling a sharpener around it.

“What have you figured out, little mortal?” He seemed smug now and it only made you shoot him a glare.

“You’re a Noldor which means you come from the west, from what I’ve heard the Sindar elves say. You referred to this as your son’s lands and I am aware that it is Noldor Princes that rule over the realms which Beleriand has been cut up into, which would mean you must have some claim to the title of King. For a King to be talking to a lone hunter, you must either be worried that I’m actually some scout or you’re just a curious being and I should inform you that the former would be an incorrect assumption. I serve no one.” You gave a pause, “Except for my parents at dinner on the occasion that I’m home.” There. Now he knew that there would be people to look for you should you not return.

“And why are you only home on occasion?” You frowned that he neither confirmed nor denied any of your observations and you set the arrow down in your lap, looking back up at him as he had now seated himself on the other side of the fire, legs stretched out as he rested on his side, propped up on an elbow. A very relaxed position, not an ideal one to attack from.

“New arrangement: you answer one of my questions and I repay you by answering yours, deal?” His eyes twitched.

“You mortals are very fond of bargains.”

“You elves are very good at alluding direct answers.” You threw back and he laughed lowly for a moment.

“We have a deal.”

“So, do you have a claim to the title of King?” You asked.

“I do. But courtly matters are not my concern. I have other priorities.” You would ask about those later, “Why do you return home only on occasion?”

“My parents want me to marry. I don’t fancy being cooped up in an overrun house like a bloody chicken.” You replied. You could see the question in his eyes already. “What are your other priorities?”

“Someone has stolen three gems that I fashioned. They are mine, crafted from light before the sun or moon and I will see them returned to me.” A dark look shadowed his face and you had to both ponder that and the fact that gems could be made. You had only ever heard of them being found in the ground or in fresh landslides: you had found some pretty chunks of quartz that way. “Why does marriage not appeal to you?”

“I am young and feel at peace in the outdoors. My life is short enough as it is and I will not waste it being trapped in a house. I’ll breach a hill or cliff face on my hikes and to see the green valley outstretched beneath me, forests in the distance, the mountains scraping against the sky. I come across blacksmiths or architects and I know that I would never have the opportunity to learn the beauty of such crafts if I were to be a housewife while my husband works… I know that I’ll never get to see and learn it all so it would be stupid to waste a single opportunity.”

“You have an adventurous spirit.”

“And I would need someone equally as adventurous for me to wish to marry him. That sort is few and far between where I come from and all as elusive as I.” You felt a weight on your chest as you thought over the inevitability of your fate. You would not abandon your family nor did you wish to abandon your freedom. You simply wanted more time but that was the one thing not provided to your race. “You said that you fashioned these gems.” You changed the subject as it began to grow heavy, “I was unaware that such a thing was possible, I was under the belief that they had to be found.” A large smile pulled at his lips and he sat up a little more as he began to explain the craft to you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had learned much from the Ňoldo elf that night, even earning an invite to his son’s residence on the shore of Lake Helevorn. Fëanor had held mortals with little regard beforehand. He had heard of Lady Haleth and her people from his fourth son but had been absent during the battle. You were a chance to understand the mortal world a little more, a world living right on the doorstep of some of his sons’ realms.

Many months passed and you finally found yourself feeling at peace indoors. As you taught Fëanor of the human world, the two of you had begun making trips to the forges together and he had helped you to craft your own knife. You noticed how his question had turned from more general ones of your race to questions more specifically about you and you came to see from his interactions with those around him that he showed you a lot more patience than what seemed to be normal for him. You assumed it was because you were currently his only resource for all the inquiries he had to your race.

Though, the atmosphere between you two had changed when you announced that you would be returning home at the end of the week. This was the longest you had stayed from home without a word to your parents and you knew that they would be worried sick by the time you returned. Tonight would be the final night that you slept in the guestroom of Caranthir’s that had been given to you. You planned to leave after breakfast the following morning.

“You have been wonderful company and an equally wonderful student.” Fëanor spoke that evening in the forges as you watched him set what would be a sword to cool.

“What? Even when I first laid eyes on you and tried to shoot you in the face?” You questioned with a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. He looked up at you with a glare and it only made you smile more at knowing he would allow you to tempt his patience like this.

“You were wonderful company once you let me get past the trust issues.” He grinned and you scowled at him in return, though your eyes lingered over that smile of his, over his lips.

You had been getting thoughts of this nature about him for a few weeks now but had thought better against acting upon them. You two came from very different words: he was much older than you, of a race that never fell to illness or age, a father and widow. You were more than sure that offering yourself to him in any carnal manner would only serve to offend him. You swallowed and tore your gaze away from those lips that looked so soft.

“I hope to return here one day, should I be welcome to.” You spoke up before continuing to lighten the mood: “Even if I’m running away from a ceremony in a wedding dress.”

“You will be welcome, no matter which is my sons’ realms I am in, Caranthir will open his doors to you, I know.” There was a pause, “Do you truly feel that your parents would lure you into a marriage without telling you?”

“I’m almost without a doubt, especially after being away for so long without a word.” You shrugged, glancing into the flames of the forge and watching the fire lick at the air, dancing. A long sigh left your lungs. “It’s almost enough to make me not want to go back at all. But they’re my family and I love them. They want the best for me but cannot seem to see that we have very different ideas of what that is.” There was silence for a moment. “You are a father. What would you do in my parents’ shoes?” He took in a deep breath and stepped closer to the forge that he was leaning over with his hands, body rising up a little as he looked at you sitting on the nearby stool.

“I have no daughters, as you know.” He began, “But, from what you’ve told me of how your people work, marriage is a chance for a woman to be provided for. I can understand why your parents want to see you have that stability, I would want it for my own daughter were I to have one. However, you strike me as an outlier, much like the woman who led your people to Brethil. You can provide for yourself and that, I would take as evidence that you can decide what is best for you.” You pursed your lips as you pondered over his words with a nod of your head. Perhaps you would just need to make a big display of the fact that you could provide for yourself to prove to your parents that they did not need to marry you off.

Your eyes skimmed form the forge to the ellon’s hands as they curled around the edge of the stone workbench, watching the metal cool. He had beautiful hands, without a doubt. He had removed his rings while he was working but his hands looked powerful, lightly calloused from his profession but not in the same way you had seen of human blacksmiths. The tendons in the back of his palms were pronounced and veins snaked up his forearms. For a moment, you pictured how they would feel pressing against your skin.

“Would you like to see?” One of those hands beckoned you closer and your head was momentarily snapped from the depths of the gutter that such a movement sent your mind to. You nodded your head, willing your blush away to no prevail, and approached the workbench. His hands glided through the air above the hot metal as he began to explain this phase of the crafting process to you. You were eager to listen to his voice, the passion as he explained his craft to you. He had a soothing voice: deep but not gravelly, like low chords in a harmony. So many things about you seemed to lure you in and you found it difficult to blame yourself, having yet to find an unattractive elf.

You ended up listening to his voice more than his words and a new thought struck you: what if your parents couldn’t marry you off because you had already been taken by another? Sure, the idea of making a big show of how you could provide for yourself might work but this was bound to. You could think of none other that you would want to have as a first, surely he must be beyond skilled to have borne seven children, but then you drifted back to the belief that he may take offence should you offer yourself in such a way. Did you really plan to do such a thing or was this some strange way of making your fantasy seem more realistic?

“Where’s your mind, little mortal?” He quizzed and your heart faltered at being caught not paying attention.

“Weddings, unfortunately.” You skirted around the heart of the truth, “As much as I miss my family, I truly am dreading going back for that reason.”

“And you have an idea for avoiding such a thing?” Hesitation.

“No.” Another pause, too deliberate, “Only your earlier suggestion.” He leaned down over the bench that stood between the two of you, grey-blue eyes narrowing as the dark hair at his temples fell over his shoulders. He smiled minutely at what he found, whatever that may be, you were unsure unless he were a mind-reader.

“You have an idea.” There was a smug tone to his voice, a knowing one. You prayed that it was only because he knew you were hiding something and not because he knew what you were hiding.

“It’s… impractical.” You attempted to dismiss the subject with a wave of your hand.

“It’s carnal.” He replied and your eyes burst open wide before your brows furrowed, how could he have possibly known?! “You’ve become easy to read – and there are some signs that your body will express without the need for words. He rounded the bench and you found him mere paces away, towering over you, “Your skin flushes…” His knuckled grazing against the back of your cheek, “Your eyes dilate…” His hand trailing down as his voice dropped to almost a whisper, “Your breathing quickens…” Fingers skimming over your collarbones with how you had loosened the ties on your blouse to withstand the heat of the forge. Your face felt as though it were on fire.

You knew of sex but had no experience in it whatsoever; beyond women’s gossip and what you had seen of animals you knew very little so feeling a widowed ellon’s hands on your skin made you feel dull in comparison to what his skills must hold.

Your breath came out in a nervous, shuddered sigh and you closed your eyes for a moment to try and ease your embarrassment at being caught thinking of him in such a way, knowing he would soon demand to know just what had possessed your mind.

“If I have been… taken by another, it will make it very difficult, almost impossible, for my parents to find a willing suitor. It will only urge them to believe that I can provide for myself.”

“And you wish to be taken by me?” Those fingers you had just been admiring were now absentmindedly tracing up and down the pulse of your neck.

“There is none other I can think…” Words became lost to you as his thumb swiped across your lower lip and gently pulled down on it, noting how his eyes had become lidded.

“May I touch you?” His voice grew quieter with the question.

“Please.” Was all you could think of in response with a minute nod of your head. His hands were quick to land on the sides of your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body down to your hips and reaching even further down to hoist you up by your thighs, fingertips digging into the softness of your flesh there with a light groan. You let out a gasp and wrapped your arms around his neck for support, unable to resist caressing some of his soft, dark hair between your fingers.

His nose brushed against yours as he set you down on a different workbench, lips grazing yours in an almost-not-there touch for a moment before his lips crashed to yours and you couldn’t help the small moan that fell from your throat as you tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling his hands run firmly from your thighs, over your waist and back down. His tongue swiped against your lips and you realised that you were trembling with excitement as he pulled your body even closer to the edge of the bench, pressing you flush against his chest. You found yourself parting your legs to make room for him and his hands wandered even further up to hold you just beneath your breasts.

“Let me in…” He whispered against your mouth and, unsure, you parted your lips, almost whining when his tongue began to explore your mouth between kisses. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before travelling to your jaw, making your head fall back both to allow him more access and due to the pleasure of his thumbs swiping over your hardening nipples. Lips pressed flush to your skin, you felt him suck down on the supple flesh of your neck and your hands ran from his hair down his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

With your hands now clutching the fabric in your fists, your mind wandered to what his body looked like under the clothing. You had seen from some of his fitted trousers that his thighs looked powerful, could tell from his shoulders and rolled up sleeves that his arms were strong. You could only imagine what his torso must look like, perhaps also marked with scars from the battles that he told you so little of – you had come to the assumption that they must have been against orcs or some dark creatures of their kind.

“May I…?” You found it hard to voice the words as you simply tugged on the material.

“May I remove yours in turn?” He murmured against your skin, tugging at your neckline to graze his teeth against your collarbone. You quickly nodded your head and he took a small step back, guiding your hands down to the hem of the shirt so that you could pull it over his head. You had been right in your imaginings of his body: he was muscular and covered in scars of varying sizes, you reached out to trace your fingers against the white lines before you felt his fingers against the skin of your belly and you raised your arms for him to remove your blouse. You fought the urge to cover your breasts shyly.

His hands came up to cup the softness of your breasts, thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples and you, in turn, ran your hands over the hills of his abs, his skin rather soft other than any scar tissue that you skimmed over. He reached a hand behind you to help ease you to lay back, his palm pressing up slightly to guide your back into an arch, his other hand continuing to tease your breast. He leaned down over you and you suddenly felt the true size difference between you, his body caging you in.

His dark hair fell around you like a curtain as he leaned down to give you a fiery kiss that seared your skin as he trailed down to your breast, making you tangle a hand in his long hair again as his lips wrapped around one of your hardened buds and sucked down. The noise that you let out made him press his hips to yours, making you push back against him at the sweet friction it provided, even with your clothes still in the way.

His hand and mouth switched places before both hands went down to undo the ties on your trousers. While he was doing that, you reached down to tug at the bows on the laces of your boots before kicking them off as he tugged your clothing down your legs. You looked away bashfully, turning your head to the side and covering your face with your arm as he leaned up to look down at you, utterly bare before him. A groan of approval left his lips as his hands roved over the curves of your silhouette. He was yet to be sure of whether or not this applied to all mortal women but you were certainly more curvaceous than any lithe elleth he had seen and it was beyond enticing.

He took your soft thighs in his hands and pushed them upwards, letting them rest over his shoulders and you drew your arm back to steal a glance at him.

“What are you doing?” You asked quietly, looking down at him where he was kissing the inside of your knee. He gently shushed you in response.

“Do not be afraid, little one. I will not hurt you.” Fëanor had a very authoritative voice, this much you had learned from the very first time you met him and it was consistent in his character. Now, however, he was so softly spoken, as though you were an injured bird in his hands, and it made your heart soar. You trusted him.

“I trust you.” You murmured and his lips grazed a line along the inside of your thigh until you let out a shrill gasp when his tongue lapped along the length of your slit. Your hips and legs tensed in his hold as you jerked against his mouth, feeling those powerful hands reach up to hold you down against the stone bench. Your breaths came out in pants and whimpers as he lightly sucked on your clit and then trailed down to dip his tongue into your entrance, the wet sounds of it causing your face to flush with heat. His fingers caressed your thigh, feeling how tense your muscles were.

“Relax…” He murmured against you, “I’ve got you.” You focused on steadying out your breathing even despite how your head felt as though it were swimming, releasing some of the tension from your limbs. “Good…” He drawled out and you let out a moan as you felt one of his fingers slowly sinking into your cunt. He curled his finger upward and rotated his wrist each time he withdrew it from you, trying to find that soft spot within you. When he did find it, your head fell back with a call of his name and he continued to rub over that spot each time he pumped his finger in and out of you, all while his tongue was lapping against your clit languidly.

When he withdrew his finger, you whined at the loss, only to moan once more at the feeling of his wet tongue against your even wetter entrance. His hand returned by sinking two fingers into you. You bit on your lip to muffle an utterly depraved moan as he sucked down on your clit while his fingers sank all the way into you.

“Come for me…” He murmured against the bundle of nerves, “Don’t hold anything back, just let yourself feel good and come for me.” You could feel the vibration of his words against you and you quickly nodded your head in compliance as his fingers set up a quick pace, drawing slick sounds from your tightening cunt.

You reached down to tangle a hand in his hair, the other hand gripping the wrist of the arm slung over your waist, as you felt an overwhelming pleasure pool in your abdomen. Your orgasm was ultimately triggered by Fëanor adding a third finger, sweetly stretching your walls as you came. He eased you through your orgasm before withdrawing, leaning up to look over your flushed skin and heaving breasts as you came down from your high.

“We can stop now, if you’d like.” There was a certain smug look on his face that showed he knew exactly what your answer would be. You quickly shook your head.

“No, I need this and I want you.” Your voice came out airy and you reached down to curl a hand against his hip, glancing down to see the outline of his hardened cock under his clothing.

“Ah, but you don’t need me too?” You shook your head again, fingers gripping him even harder.

“No! Yes! I need you!” You exclaimed and he grinned down at you, seeming to enjoy dangling the prospect of pleasure over your head like this. He opened his mouth to tease you just a little more but all that came out was a groan as you cupped his cock and stroked through his clothing, “Please.” He leaned down over you once more and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, making you moan at being made to taste yourself in this way. His other hand was preoccupied with unlacing his apron and trousers, dropping one to the floor while the other was pushed to his thighs. Your eyes flickered downwards in an attempt to see the size of him but his fingers under your chin tilted your head back.

“Look at me.” His characteristic authority bled into the soft voice he was using with you and you found yourself wanting to do nothing else other than what he said as you felt a pressure against your entrance. “If it becomes too much to bear, you will tell me and I will stop. I do not want to hurt you, do you understand?” You nodded your head, “You have words, use them.” The way his hand rested over your throat and his thumb sweetly caressed your jaw as he said this made heat flood through you.

“I’ll tell you if it becomes too much.” He let out a sigh, trusting your words as the tip of his cock breached your walls. You whimpered at the stretch, reaching up to tangle one hand in his hair as the other curled around the muscle of his bicep. You pulled him in for a messy kiss to distract you from what you could only hope would soon be pleasure enough to rival what he had previously given you. His hand skimmed over your belly and you gasped at the feeling of his thumb brushing against your clit, making you bury your face into his neck with a moan. “I know…” He murmured against your skin and it only made you bring your legs up to wrap around his waist as much as you could. When he slightly withdrew his hips, you pressed your towards him, chasing him almost and gasping softly when he pushed back into your heat.

You had only taken in about half of him but you sought more if it would mean erasing the pain that came with the stretch of taking something so big. You continued to push your hips towards him, meeting him with each shallow thrust that became longer at first and then deeper, his thumb still languidly stroking your clit.

“More, please…” You keened when the pleasure finally outweighed the pain and he set his palm down on the stone beside you, another hand sinking into the softness of your thigh to hold your leg against his body.

This, by far, had to be the best of all the plans you had concocted to avoid being married off if it came with enough pleasure to send your eyes rolling back like this. You tried to bring him even closer with your legs, nails raking down his arms as his hips began to snap into you. He leaned down closer to you, his arm working under your legs to hook it over his shoulder, pushing it towards your chest as his lips came down to meet yours again, nose trailing across your cheek before taking your earlobe teasingly between his teeth.

“So tight and taking me so well…” He groaned into your ear and you revelled in having him close enough to hear all his sounds of pleasure, turning you on to no end because you knew they were all because he was buried in your cunt. “Can you come for me again? Hm?” The tone of his voice made you feel so much smaller and inexperienced than him and yet it only served to turn you on more. You nodded your head as one of your hands tangled in the softness of his dark hair.

One of his hands cupped your breast, teasing your nipple before trailing down lower to press his palm against your lower abdomen. The pressure made you call out his name in a moan as your body seemed to tense up and relax all at once, pleasurable shivers wracking your frame as the intensity of the sensation only built up and up and you were beyond impatient to see it all crash down.

You could do little more but call out a series of pleas, laced with his name, as you were pushed ever closer to the edge. The pleading only seemed to make him up his ante so you did your best to not let it melt into a string of nonsensical babbles as your walls spasmed around his cock as he made you come a second time, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm to the point that he pressed two fingers into you vermouth, putting pressure down on your tongue, to quieten you – you might have been alone but you were still in the forges, after all. His breath came out in a choked moan and you whined at the loss of him inside you before feeling a trickling sensation on your abdomen, glancing down to see the last of his orgasm dripping from his cock, his white cum painting your skin.

Perhaps if you didn’t feel so exhausted, you would have been more shocked at how you had possibly just taken something so large inside of you but you could do little more than let your head fall back to the stone with a satisfied hum. He cleaned you off with your discarded panties before tugging up his trousers and tying the apron back around his waist. He eased you up and tugged his shirt down over you before you laid back down.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable.” He noted as you brought your legs up to curl up on your side.

“I’m used to sleeping on the ground wherever I go. It doesn’t bother me.” You mumbled in reply. When you cracked your eye open a few minutes later – feeling that your body had finally come down, feeling cooler, your lungs and heart having slowed – you were met with the very welcome sight of a shirtless Fëanor working on that sword over the workbench. With the sweet ache between your legs, you wondered if you would even be able to ride out on your journey tomorrow morning.

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to stay just one more day.

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