Sex With Fanor (Headcannons) - NSFW :

Sex with Fëanor (Headcannons) - NSFW :

Fëanor would be the most generous sexual partner ever

No matter your genitals, he’ll make sure you end up not being able to walk the next morning

Making you overstimulated, make love to you well into the night, so he’s sure you will be able to spend the morning in bed with him

Even if you don’t have a pussy, he clearly has a breeding kink

« Want me to fill you up, hm? Be a good boy/be good for me, Vanimelda. »

Tears of pleasure would run down your face and you would receive soooo many compliments

« So pretty, just for me »

« Come on, love, I know you can have one more »

« Tired, handsome? »

Hickeys everywhere, on your tights, your neck, your chest, etc.

I headcanon him as someone who loves to eat out their partner, whether it’s your pussy or your asshole, or even give you a blowjob

He just loves seeing your fucked out face, the noises you make and he lives for your praise

Tell him he only can make you feel like this, that he’s the most handsome elf to ever walk on Arda, he eats it up and rewards you for it

He also loves hearing you tell him you’re his, and his only

When he’s about to cum for the who-knows-how-many-times, he’ll say

« My love, my joy, my heart, mine, can I? » while panting in your neck

You only need to say « Yours, my love, you can! » and he’s cumming, balls deep into you

What is also wonderful, is after the mind blowing sex, he has the best aftercare

He kisses you, massages you, brings you a drink/food if you want some, cuddles you, tells you over and over how much he loves you, etc.

All in all, he’s one of the best elves you could ever have sex with

@Caliawen

Sex with Turgon (Headcannons) - NSFW :

Turgon is a mix of shy and pent up energy

He blushes easily and is a little mortified at first, before relaxing little by little

He lets you take the reins, not quite sure what to do with himself

He likes to have you ride him slowly, watching his dick enter your pussy/ass hole, entranced

When your thighs are getting sore and tired, he’ll take the reins back, confident enough in his ability to make you feel good

He’ll take your hips in his hands and make you ride him, while thrusting up to match the pace he set

He likes to have you nip on his ears, each time you do that, he shudders and goes a bit faster

He likes to give you hickeys, but lives for when you give him those

He feels proud that you love him so much, you lay down a claim to him, make sure everyone knows he’s yours and yours only

He likes to cum in you, whether it’s in your lower region or your mouth

He’s kinda ashamed by how fast you can make him cum if you play with his nipples, but it makes him feel good, so he just moans and tries to forget his shame

He also likes to be fucked in the ass with your dick/a strap

The first time he came from his prostate, he passed out

When he came back to your worried face, he begs you to fuck him again this way, that it feels so good

« Please my love, I beg you, fuck me again, it felt so good! I want to feel like that again! »

Aftercare is really important for him and he cleans you both, the sheets, brings you snacks and drinks

He’ll curl up on you and lay his head in the crook of you neck, laying gentle kisses as you both doze off

@Caliawen

Yearn and Ache

Pairing = Maglor x reader

Genre = Teen and up audiences

General ratings = angst, fluff, happy ending

Content warnings = some of this story takes place after the Oath, so Maglor is not well mentally. I don’t know if I can call it depression, but it comes close to it. There is also a very brief and implied (not explicit) mention of suicidal thoughts, so if you’re not comfortable reading that, please don’t. Your mental health is important <3

Reader’s gender = gn!reader (you/your are the only pronouns used for reader)

Word count = 4,3k

Notes = yayyy! Another fic done!! I’m actually really proud of this one! Here are the words you need to know before you start reading = melmë means ‘love’, aurë means ‘sunshine’ (in this context) and ataressë means ‘father name’

Maglor was lost. He had been for centuries now, or so he thought. He had no idea what year it was. He had no idea how many times he saw Arien go up in the sky and then leave her place for Tilion to take. His feet were calloused from years of walking on sand and his vocal cords were so damaged from his incessant singing, they ached all the time. His mind hurt all the time. Thoughts about the past hunted him every day and every night.

The ones that hurt the most were about you. Oh, how you had looked so hurt and so disappointed when he told you he had taken the oath. How horrified you had looked when you saw what he had done at Alqualondë. Tears in your eyes and hatred in your mouth, your words had hurt him more than being burned by the Silmaril.

He missed you. He missed you so much. He’d do just about anything to get to see you one last time. Even if you screamed at him that you loathed him. Even if you stabbed him repeatedly. Even if you did not acknowledge his existence. He didn’t care anymore, he only wanted to see you again. He wanted to apologize to you, beg you to forgive him for his sins and worship the ground you walked upon again.

Maglor let those thoughts fly away, for they hurt him more than words could describe. You were not the only one he missed. He missed his father. Oh, how he longed to see him again, sane and happy. He had loathed his father for dying and leaving him and his brothers alone, bound to an oath that would cause their demise. But hatred can only last so long before hurt takes its place. He wanted to be held like a child again and to listen to his father sing him lullabies to make him sleep.

Maglor sighed and let his tears fall. He deserved this. He deserved to suffer for all the pain he had caused. And yet, he found that he could not bear to think about what he had done and who he had lost.

Maedhros had been a shock to his core. He had not been healed yet from his father’s loss, and then he had lost his anchor. His big brother, Maitimo. The one who was always at his recitals with a smile on his face. The one who was just, and brave, and so, so full of life and love. The one who was the most worthy to be forgiven. Maedhros came back, of course, but not completely. Maglor would always, always be thankful to Fingon for bringing back his brother. Yet, Maedhros had lost a part of himself to the hands of Morgoth. It felt, most of the time, like a part of his fëa had been subdued, if not torn apart.

Caranthir had not been lost to them in one day. It took years, gradually, to lose him to anger and hatred. He had always been more solitary, so when he pulled away from them, they didn’t see anything wrong. Until it was too late. Caranthir was lost, lost, lost. Lost in his anger to the world. Lost in his hatred for Morgoth. Lost in his pain. Oh, how his pain was great. It was incomprehensible how Caranthir refused to get help, especially from his brothers. Maglor blamed himself. It was his duty to take care of his brothers, for even if it had always been Maedhros who took care of them, he was too weakened at the time.

Celegorm became wilder and lashed out more. He was lost in the past as much as any of them, except he didn’t come out of his memories and back to the present. He sounded so much like their father at the end… So much pain in his eyes and voice as he begged father to make it all better.. Maglor had not had the heart to tell him that Father was dead and that he was talking to him. Celegorm died, thinking his father held him in his arms, saying soothing words. Maglor had cried that day. He cried so much, Maedhros hugged him that night. They didn’t sleep.

Curufin’s fall into insanity had been the fastest and the one that hurt everyone. As soon as the day after he learned of Father’s death, he fell. Denial, denial, denial. That was what Curufin’s mind had been made of. Father wasn’t dead, he was waiting for them to save him. When asked where Father was, Curufin would lose himself in his mind and not come back for a long time. Celebrimbor was the one who kept Curufin anchored at least a little to the present. When he left, Curufin shattered. He was only the ghost of himself. One night, Curufin admitted to Maglor that he thought Celebrimbor hated him and that everything was his fault.

Maglor’s heart clenched as he thought back to the day he found Curufin’s dead body. He remembered thinking that his little brother, the one so sentimental he lashed out any time he was hurt, had died thinking his son loathed him.

The twins had died too young and Maglor did his damnest not to think about their respective death. So much innocence torn from them.. so much love engulfed by hate.. so much scars on their minds. They would never be the same. At least, Maglor thought that in death they would not be separated. At least he hoped. Surely Námo would not be so cruel? But Maglor knew the answer to that question and it wasn’t the one he liked.

Maglor sighed again and tried his best to stop thinking. Then his thoughts came back with a vengeance. He stood frozen, looking at an hallucination, for this couldn’t be real.

There, standing on the beach, was Elrond. Or at least, the hallucination looked like what Elrond would probably seem like as an adult. Elrond-hallucination started walking rapidly towards Maglor. He hugged him. Maglor didn’t bother hugging back, for when the hallucination went away, it would only hurt him more. He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

~~~

It had been a year since Elrond had found him. Maglor now understood that this was real. And if it was a dream and he was still on the beach, he didn’t want to wake up.

Maglor had met Elladan and Elrohir. They looked so much like Elrond and Elros, it made Maglor’s heart ache. They were very kind boys and spent much of their time with him.

Maglor had also seen Erestor again. At first, he couldn’t believe his eyes. One of his most devoted followers, standing here, in front of him. Then Erestor had hugged him while simultaneously insulting him and Maglor realized that Erestor was real. He couldn’t understand why Erestor seemed happy to see him. He had basically ruined his life. Why was he hugging him? Why was he not screaming at him to get out of his face?

Maglor later realized, after Erestor had insisted on talking to him everyday, that maybe, maybe, Erestor didn’t blame him.

When Maglor met Glorfindel again, they were both shocked. It had been a glacial meeting. Maglor didn’t blame Glorfindel for his reluctance to have a kinslayer in Imladris. It took Maglor by surprise when Glorfindel started hanging out with him. Maglor wasn’t very good company. He was in the healing ward all day, every day. He had lost way too much weight during his self-imposed exile and Elrond was relieved to see Maglor alive. It was almost impossible. Maglor almost wished he had died. Then again, Maglor couldn’t leave Elrond, even if he would be better off without him, because Elrond seemed happy to have Maglor around and making Elrond happy was the least Maglor could do.

Maglor and Glorfindel found themselves bonding about their shared pain of losing loved ones and of losing their innocence to the First Age.

~~~

When Elrond proposed to Maglor to go back to the undying lands, Maglor almost laughed in his face. He was healing slowly and sometimes found himself smiling slightly. However, it was impossible that the Valar would let Maglor go back to Valinor.

Maglor lost all his amusement of Elrond proposing such a thing, for he thought about you. He would never see you again. He would never see your smile, your eyes, your beautiful hair. He would never hear your excited voice telling him about your passion. He would never hear your laugh again. Never, never, never. You were lost to him and it was his fault. His fault. His fault. HIS FAULT.

He came back to the present when Elrond called his name worriedly. Maglor told him that it would be impossible for him to go back to Valinor. Elrond insisted that he wanted to try. Maglor relented. He was too tired to argue. Tired of his thoughts. Tired of waiting for something that would never happen. Tired of waiting to see the day he would see his brothers, father and you again. Yet, he wanted to think about the good moments with you.

When he went to sleep that night, he prayed for once in the longest time. He prayed to Eru to let him be selfish. He prayed that he could dream about you. About the happy moments. He prayed that he would wake up not feeling guilty about tarnishing you with his mind. He slept like a baby, but couldn’t remember what he had dreamt about when he woke up, only that it was a very pleasant dream.

~~~

One day, when Maglor felt good enough to walk, he went to the gardens. There, he met a very strange guest. He was so very little, Maglor first thought he was the child of some Dwarves. Then, as he looked closer, he saw that the strange being was old. He had white hair and wrinkles, and therefore could not be a child.

Approaching this little guest was probably one of the best decisions Maglor ever made. That day, Maglor made a friend.

Bilbo was a delight to have around. He was witty, funny and extremely kind. Maglor felt like he didn’t deserve his friendship and told Bilbo as much. The latter spent a good thirty minutes lecturing Maglor about making decisions for others and assuming they thought something without asking them. Maglor became very fond of Bilbo extremely fast.

~~~

As the day of the departure towards Valinor approached, Maglor thought much more about you. About your lips on his, about you letting him braid your hair, about fooling around together. He missed you. He yearned to see you again.

~~~

When Maglor met Gandalf, there was something extremely familiar about the wizard. Gandalf seemed amused and only kept talking to him. When Maglor realized that Gandalf was Olorín, he was shocked. What was he doing here, in Arda Marred? Maglor went to bed that night with less answers than questions. It seemed to amuse Olorín to be purposefully cryptic and mysterious. It annoyed and delighted Maglor. It had been a while since he had to think so critically to find out something. It reminded him of you.

Or, well, the riddles and play on words you’d tell each other as a game. He remembered that if you found out the good answer and what the play on the words was, he’d give you something. More often than not it was a kiss. You both laughed too much sometimes to even kiss properly. He missed you.

~~~

When the day to leave was finally here, he met Frodo, which was a very pleasant experience. Seeing Galadriel again and her husband (from Doriath, by Eru..) was not so pleasant. He spent a good hour listening to the both of them screaming at him and arguing with Elrond that ‘He cannot come with us to Valinor, he’s a kinslayer!’. When he tried to interrupt the conversation, Galadriel punched him. He didn’t blame her.

Surprisingly, the one to put an end to the debate was Bilbo. He calmly said that Maglor was going, because he was Bilbo’s friend, and Bilbo needed him to be there, for Valinor was surely going to be a very confusing place and Bilbo would need his very supportive (mentally and physically) friend to be there.

Maglor was very amused. Galadriel, not so much, for she would have to leave her husband behind for a few centuries, but be with her kinslayer cousin. Yet, she listened to Bilbo, for she had great respect and fondness for him and Frodo as well, who was of the same opinion.

~~~

Maglor found himself very grateful for Bilbo and Frodo’s friendship. They seemed completely unafraid to defend Maglor against any and all slander to his person. They (especially Bilbo) seemed to give absolutely no care that he was talking fairly rudely to Galadriel.

At first, it angered her that Bilbo would defend such a repulsive being, but in the end, she found it amusing that Maglor would never defend himself, but someone more than half his size would. Maglor was very surprised when she started teasing him, like when they were still young and innocent elflings in Valinor. He didn’t mind the change.

~~~

Maglor was very surprised that the trip to Valinor did not have any difficulties. He had expected to at least be taken by the waves from the boat. No such thing happened.

The more they approached Valinor, the more Maglor’s stomach twisted in on itself. He was nervous. Extremely so. He dreaded the moment he would set foot on land, only to find no one waiting for him, except for Námo. Surely he would be thrown into the Void.

Apparently, Bilbo heard him say something about that particular thought process and was affronted. He assured Maglor that Námo would have to pass over his dead body to do such a thing.

Maglor laughed. It was a bright and clear sound. His throat had healed much since the time he spent on the beach. He realized that while he was not happy, he was on his way there. He wondered if you would be proud of him for going from a shell of himself to whatever he was now. He promptly stopped smiling.

~~~

When Maglor set foot on Valinor, he was surprised to see all of his brothers. He also saw his mother and his father. He cried. He cried and cried and cried. In their arms. He felt safe and he felt at home. He got to introduce Elrond to his family and see them interact with each other.

He saw a woman with beautiful silver hair and recognized her from old portraits in his parents’ house. He met his grandmother that day. It was one of the most joyful moment of his whole life.

He learned that Maedhros and Fingon had gotten married (finally) and that Celebrimbor had come out of the halls to heal more in the gardens of Lórien. He and Curufin had started working together on a project again.

Caranthir was at peace and seemed much more relaxed than even before they left Valinor, which brought tears to Maglor’s eyes. Amrod and Amras acted like children, running around and screaming in joy, but no one said anything, for they deserved to enjoy small things after everything that had happened.

To see his family so happy warmed Maglor. It was also heartwarming to see them so happy to have him back.

~~~

Maglor felt good. He had met Celebrían and found out that together they had a very good chemistry. In fact, it was almost too easy to tease and embarrass Elrond when they teamed up. Elrond seemed mortified, but it was very amusing for all parties involved when Galadriel joined them. Celeborn (Galadriel’s husband, Maglor had learned) was still extremely unhappy to have Maglor near him. Maglor found that he didn’t mind the glares and suspicious looks thrown his way, for his son was here. On top of that, it seemed that Elladan and Elrohir had appointed themselves as his personal guards while he was close to Celeborn, for they would shield him from their grandfather, much to his amusement.

Erestor and Glorfindel seemed determined to annoy him to death, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed their relentless teasing a lot, for it was a fun way to not think about you.. not that he’d ever admit it, of course. Learning that they were married was not a great surprise, but was a magnificent subject he could use to tease them.

Olórin was still as annoying as ever, but it was all in jest and made Maglor’s mood better, for what it was worth.

Maglor had seen Celebrimbor again and most of his cousins. He had been extremely surprised when Finrod had basically thrown himself in his arms. Apparently, he had no one to sing duets with and had been extremely lonely without Maglor around. Maglor was happy, if not astonished, to agree to sing with Finrod sometime.

Maglor met Gil-Galad, who was Fingon’s son and Maedhros’ adopted one. The last time he had seen Erenion, he had been but a babe, practically eating Maedhros’ hair. It was refreshing to see him, for he was all smiles and jokes.

Maglor was embarrassed to admit that he had cried when he had seen Fingon again. Maedhros, while amused, comforted his brother, while Fingon tried to cheer him up. They had eaten together and Maglor had been convinced to admit that he had cried because Fingon remade his brother. He made him happy, but most of all whole. Fingon had started crying too and Maedhros had sighed, exasperated.

~~~

Maglor had not seen you since the day he arrived in Valinor and found himself sad. Even if he knew he deserved it, even if he did not deserve you.

That day, he found himself asking his mother why no one was screaming at him when he walked in the streets of Tirion. Nerdanel explained that while no one had forgotten what happened, they were all forgiven. His father had properly apologized to every victim of the First Kinslaying and he and his brothers had done charity work for a few centuries. His mother also explained that his exile had been long and Elrond had advocated for him shortly after he arrived. His son had explained to Tirion that not even Morgoth had spent so much time alone as a punishment. It hadn’t taken long for people to feel for him and forgive him.

Maglor still didn’t feel worthy of such forgiveness. His father and his brothers had worked for forgiveness and he had only moped around for thousands of years. He went to bed feeling like trash.

~~~

Maglor spent most of his days with his brothers, cousins and son, but sometimes, he went to see Bilbo, Frodo and the wonderful new arrivants; Samwise and Gimli. Samwise was a joyful chap that never failed to bring a smile to Maglor’s face. Gimli was bombarded with questions from Fëanor, Curufin, Celebrimbor and Maedhros, much to Maglor’s amusement and Gimli’s delight. A budding friendship was developing between all of them and it was a beautiful sight to Maglor’s sore eyes.

They were wonderful company and were arguably the most wise in all Valinor. On top of Bilbo, Frodo and Samwise’s company, another amazing plus was their weird but extremely cozy and charming home. It had been constructed in the ground, kind of like a hole, and had a chimney and a round door. Bilbo had expressed the wish to have a Hobbit home in Valinor once and when prompted, had explained to Maglor how it looked like.

To express his gratitude and to thank Bilbo for all that he had done for him, Maglor had asked his father to build a Hobbit home. To say Fëanor had been delighted would be an understatement. With Curufin and Celebrimbor’s help, they designed a comfortable Hobbit home. They built it in record time, for they were all excited to build something new and foreign. Nerdanel had even insisted to give Bilbo and Frodo a gift for making her last missing son come home. She had sculpted a magnificent set of tea cups with mushrooms on them. Bilbo and Frodo had been delighted and thanked them by throwing a small feast for them.

(Celegorm had been laughed at for he had drunk too much and made a fool of himself, but that was a secret that no one would ever discover..if he kept his promise to Caranthir to wash his dirty dishes.)

One day, when he knocked on the round door of their Hobbit house, Maglor was pensive. He was still extremely sad that he had not seen you, but he was coming to accept that you were out of his life. It was probably better for you anyway. Maglor wondered if you had married someone else when he was gone. Did you have any children? Were you happy?

Maglor was startled out of his thoughts by the door opening. He was invited inside by a smiling Bilbo (whose smile was entirely too mischievous to be unsuspicious) and guided to the dining table. Maglor froze in his tracks at the view before him. There you sat, on a small chair inside a Hobbit house, looking even more beautiful than ever. Maglor almost didn’t register Bilbo saying he was going for a walk before leaving abruptly.

Your wonderfully pretty eyes looked at him. Him. He gaped like a total idiot at you. You seemed to take pity on him, for you were the first one to talk.

“Welcome home, Makalaurë.”

Your sweet voice was a delight to his ears. He looked at you, tears brimming in his eyes and sniffling a little. You got up and calmly walked towards him, before stopping.

“I-… (Y/N)..” he said, unintelligently.

“Yes…?” Your tone seemed to be teasing, yet he couldn’t understand why.

“What-…what are you doing here? I thought you hated me..?”

Your eyes visibly saddened and you made a hurt noise.

“No melmë, I could never hate you. I tried at first, and I hated the fact that I couldn’t help but love you, no matter what you had done. My anger rapidly fizzled out and I was left empty and aching, for I was so accustomed to your presence and love that without it, I was lost. I was a shell of myself, for you bring out the best in me, darling. I loved you then and I love you now, with no intention of ever stopping.”

Your words made Maglor’s tears fall down his cheeks and you made a mournful noise at the sight of them. You gently took his cheeks in your hands and wiped his tears away. His defenses were crumbling rapidly. He still thought you would be better off with someone else, even if he selfishly wanted you all for himself.

“I am broken beyond repair, aurë. You should not waste your beautiful self on me.” He said, the last word being accentuated by the disgust in his voice.

You frowned sadly and went to take his damaged hand in yours, kissing it reverently.

“I love you, melmë. I love all of you. The broken parts, the angry and sad ones, the ones that are joyful and playful, the ones full of resentment and hurt, the musical and socially pretty ones. I love you.”

You were the one who kissed him and Maglor found himself grateful for you. Grateful for all that you had done for him. Grateful for your love and patience.

~~~

Your wedding was full of emotions. At one point, Fëanor burst into tears, making Fingolfin shed a tear and in turn, everyone seeing the normally stoic Fingolfin cry, wailed out. It was kind of embarrassing for Maglor, seeing his side of the family weeping while yours looked faintly amused, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was seeing his father clinging to Míriel that made you laugh. In turn, Maglor laughed too and it was a wonderful experience to kiss you again while laughing.

~~~

Your son was born in a world full of love and happiness. Maglor had healed mentally and was proud of it, with reason. You named your son Elmaion; Son of a Miracle. Maglor gave him the ataressë Felminfinwë; Passionate Finwë. He was a joy. Especially to his grandparents, for Nerdanel almost immediately wanted to hold him, as did Fëanor. They fought often over whose turn it was to hold your son. Meanwhile, all of Maglor’s cousins (at least the ones who had forgiven him, which excluded Turgon, much to Finrod’s dismay. Finrod wanted to gush about Elmaion but couldn’t do it to Turgon for he was a ‘stick in the mud who couldn’t overcome his misplaced anger’) and brothers argued over who would be the best uncle or aunt (Maedhros and Fingon were currently winning, which was why Finrod wanted Turgon to meet the child, surely he could become one of the favorites if the child saw Turgon’s scowl).

Erestor and Glorfindel were appointed as The Babysitters, for Elmaion seemed to love Glorfindel, specifically his golden mane. Elrond was the healer that would take care of his baby brother if anything happened to him and Míriel was delighted to have another great-grandchild.

Bilbo asked for Maglor to remember him when he left, for he was the one who reunited you both, wasn’t he? The reminder that Bilbo would die one day hurt, but Maglor stayed in the present, for he wanted to enjoy Bilbo’s presence while he was still alive.

Life was full and Maglor had everything he could have ever wanted and more. Yes, the years where he was only yearning and aching were long behind him. He looked forward to the future instead of back in the past.

@theladyvanya

Update!

Hello guys! Just to let you know, I’ve published my fics on AO3 too! If you are more comfortable reading on AO3, you can still read my fics! You can find me over at Hannah_and_Caliawen. Love you all <3

@Caliawen

Overwhelming Love

Pairing = Fëanor x reader

Genre = General audiences

General ratings = fluff & angst

Content warnings = none

Reader’s gender = afab!reader, but no explicit gender (only pronoun used to describe reader is ‘you/your’)

Word count = 2,9k

Notes = second fic!! 🥳🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy it! Here are some words you should know before you read = málonya means ‘my friend’, lomba means blind, melinya means ‘my dear’, lissëhón means sweetheart, vanimelda is the highest word of praise for beauty (beautiful and beloved, elven-fair), ammë means mother and finally, yonya means ‘my son’

Fëanor had always felt insecure with the love people gave him. Since his mother died and his father remarried to have other children, he felt as if he wasn’t enough. Why would his father want other children if that wasn’t the case? And so, he outdid himself in everything he did to have his father’s attention. That was how he found his passion for writing and smithing.

One day, in the palace’s library, he felt for the first time that type of love he read so much about. You were browsing the shelves, Laurelin’s rays were caressing your skin gently, making you seem ethereal. For the first time in all of his life, Fëanor was speechless. Your beauty seemed to exceed that of Varda Elentári. Seeming to feel his eyes on you, you turned and looked in his gaze directly, before he abruptly tore his eyes away and faked reading. His cheeks were hot. You caught him looking at you like a creep! Of course you didn’t know that he was admiring your beauty, you didn’t know him!

Fëanor was torn out of his thoughts as he heard books being delicately put down on the table in front of him and a chair scraping against the floor. He snapped his head up and his eyes grew comically large as he saw you smiling at him. You spent a good hour reading with him, before leaving with a small ‘goodbye’. He couldn’t believe it. You had sat with him! Even if you hadn’t talked, you had supported his presence enough to stay seated with him for an hour.

The next few days passed in the same manner. Fëanor seated himself at his usual table and you arrived later, picking a few books before seating yourself in front of him. You gave him a shy smile and then you read in silence until you left after murmuring goodbye. Fëanor became used to this routine, so he was shocked when one day, in the middle of reading, you cleared your throat. He looked up at you and saw you shyly looking into his eyes.

“My name is (Y/N)”

He looked at you dumbly, before he realized he was supposed to introduce himself.

“I’m Fëanáro.” He said, awkwardly. He mentally beat himself, for that was his first impression of him to you. Awkward and not knowing how to converse. Normally, he didn’t have any difficulty talking, but you seemed to make his brain melt so that the only thought left was you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fëanáro.”

You went back to your book, smiling gently and blushing. He was perplexed. After his mediocre introduction, you still didn’t mind his presence? You must be the incarnation of patience..

“What are you reading, if you don’t mind me asking?” He said, after searching for a long time for something intelligent to start a conversation with.

You looked up from your book, surprised, but also seemingly happy.

“Well, you see…”

That was the day Fëanor made his first friend. You were kind and patient, even with him. You listened as he rambled on and on about one of his discoveries or a topic he was passionate about. It seemed with each day, your beauty became more and more all-consuming. From the tip of your ears to your boots, Fëanor thought you were pretty. Your fëa was the cherry on top of the cake. You were so gentle and funny and respectful, he couldn’t imagine what ’perfect’ was if it wasn’t you.

One day, Fëanor saw you talking to another ellon at the ball his father threw for his coming of age. He didn’t understand why he felt so jealous. You had the right to pursue anyone you liked! So why did he covet your love like he did with his father’s? He ended up feeling angsty for a good amount of time, his jealousy making him snappy and insecure. What if this ellon didn’t like him and wanted you to stop being his friend? The rational part of his mind told him that you were probably only talking to him, flirting at most. You wouldn’t abandon your friendship for someone you weren’t in a relationship with.

He went outside, brooding in silence. A few minutes passed before he heard someone come his way. He looked out the corner of his eye, choking on air as he saw you. You looked concerned and he disliked himself for it, but he felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the fact that you left that ellon to go check up on him.

“Are you alright málonya?” You asked him, your brow furrowed in confusion and worry.

“I… am not..” he confessed hushedly.

“What is wrong then, Fëanáro?” You seemed to be truly concerned now, for he never admitted to being anything other than ‘perfectly fine’.

“I wish for something I probably cannot have..”

You looked deep into his eyes, seemingly searching his fëa. He turned his gaze away, afraid of your reaction if you were to find out.

“Fëanáro… tell me. Please..”

He felt the words of admission come out of his heart and up his throat, in his mouth, he only had to open it and he would be free-

“Why don’t you go back to that ellon you were talking with? You seemed happy with him.” He snapped instead, shame curling inside of him at his cowardice.

“Are you…jealous?” You quietly asked.

Fëanor flinched, not expecting you to see through his words, but then again, that was underestimating you, for you were the smartest elf Fëanor had ever come across. His silence seemed to be enough of an answer for you, because you took his chin in your hand and turned his head so that he was facing you.

“Oh, you lomba man..” you sighed, something like fondness taking over your features.

“I have loved you for a very long time, Curufinwë Fëanáro Finwëyón. You have a brilliant mind, you make me feel all fuzzy inside and meeting you at our spot is like coming home. I cannot tell you how many times I daydreamed about kissing your lips and holding your hand. You make me irrationally happy, Melinya. If you would have me, I would be yours..” you confessed, looking at his mouth towards the end of your last sentence.

He put his hands on your hips and tugged you towards him, kissing you passionately. To know that you felt the same way as he was a relief to Fëanor.

“I wish to court you properly, lissëhón. Can I?” He asked, breathless from your kiss.

Your enthusiastic nod and kiss is enough of an answer for him.

~~~

Your wedding was the biggest and most beautiful of the century. Everyone was in high spirits. It was fun to dance with you, but what was most wonderful was seeing your constant smile as you talked to guests.

Fëanor tore his gaze away from you as he saw your parents approaching. You were the exact copy of your mother, except for your smile. Your father had ginger hair and he had given you his smile. They were wonderful people and he was more than happy to have them as his in-laws.

He was teased by your father for his constant looking, but Fëanor couldn’t stop. You seemed to be radiating happiness as you walked towards him and your parents. It was incredible how Fëanor found himself falling deeper in love with you every day that passed.

~~~

The birth of your first son was a joyous occasion. Maitimo, you called him. Well-shaped one. You were absolutely right, for your child was beautiful. He had inherited his grandfather’s ginger hair and freckles, the eyes of his father and he had your ears, nose and lips. He was the joy of both your hearts.

The birth of your second son was an even more joyous occasion, for Maitimo was the one who had asked for a sibling. He bounced up and down, excited at the prospect of having a brother to play with. Makalaurë, you named him. Forging gold. Once again, you were dead on with the name, for little Makalaurë seemed to make songs more powerful than the Valar, spinning them from gold and leaving all hearts who had heard his singing aching for more. He had inherited his father’s hair and face and your eyes, nose and smile. He was magnificent.

The birth of your third son was followed by exclamations of joy and happiness. Makalaurë and Maitimo were ecstatic at the thought of another brother. Tyelkormo, you named him. Hasty-riser. He was a bundle of energy and woke you up at ungodly hours so that he could play. He was also quick to anger, filled with insecurities and quick to defend his loving family. He had Míriel’s hair, his father’s eyes and your ears, smile and nose. He was breathtaking.

The birth of your fourth son was a cacophony of delight. Everyone had waited long for this little one and he was finally here. Carnistir, you named him. Red face. It had surprised you all that your fourth son had a permanent blush on his face. It was however clear to all that it was adorable. Kisses were pressed on his cheeks constantly and hands caressed his hair. He had inherited the hair of his father and of his eyes while he had your smile and personality. He was calmer and more solitary, preferring to spend time with you than with other kids his age. He was your bliss.

The birth of your fifth son was filled with amusement. This little one looked so much like his father, it was comic. Atarinkë, you named him. Little father. It was more than fitting, for your fifth son attached himself to Fëanor and never let go. Everything his father did, Atarinkë had to do. He looked to Fëanor with awe in his little eyes and wanted to be held by him all the time. He loved his brothers and his parents more than anything in the world. You had no doubt you were heroes in his eyes. He was your euphoria.

The birth of the twins rocked the house. No one had really expected two babies when you had announced you were pregnant. Ambarussa you named them. Top-russet. It was fitting, for they both had the ginger hair of your beloved father. Your reasoning for giving them the same name was because they were born together and were fated to have one name. You still decided to give them separate names anyway. Minyarussa, you named the first one. The first. It was in relation to their birth order, for Minyarussa was the first one to see the light of Telperion. Umbarto, you named the second one. The fated. You had seen something, yet refused to tell Fëanor, which worried him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to push you. They were your rapture.

~~~

The rational part of his mind wailed in despair at what he had done. The Fear, however, was too strong. He had lost his father, he couldn’t lose his sons too, was what It whispered to him. And so, he bound himself and them to an oath. He was leaving Valinor to avenge his father and protect his sons from the Valar, they who hadn’t taken the menace that was Melkor seriously, they who had failed to protect them, they, who in a sense, were a part of the reason his father died. He would protect his sons, at all costs.

You weren’t in agreement with The Fear. You told him that this was madness, that he couldn’t do this, to abandon the oath and go back to how things were before. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to not do this, that you were right and that he would lose you if he didn’t heed your pleas. The Fear, however, was too strong. It killed the rational part of his mind with It’s fists and screamed at him to get away from this place. You didn’t come with him to Arda.

~~~

In his final moments, Fëanor thought back to what you had said and the rational part of his mind rose from the dead to tell him you were right.

~~~

Fëanor didn’t know how many years he spent in the Halls of Mandos. Time passed strangely there. Or more accurately, time had no meaning in these halls. When he was released after he had repented for his crimes, he learned that his sons were also free. He learned that Maedhros had married Fingon and that the former had adopted twins with Maglor. He had a second grandson, another one than little Celebrimbor, named Elrond.

You came to see him shortly after he was released. You both looked at each other, strangers again. He desperately wanted to go back in time and undo his mistakes. Oh, how he longed to wake up with you in his arms, to create you new jewelry and to brag with you about your sons’ accomplishments to other parents. He knew he had lost this privilege and that it was his fault. He knew he had lost you.

However, a glimmer of hope appeared in his chest as you slowly came forward, inches away from him. He raptly listened to what you had to say.

“I do not wish for us to separate our fëas, Fëanáro. What you did was cruel and pure madness, and I do not think I can ever forget what you put our sons through. However, our sons vouched for you. They explained to me that at the time of the oath, you weren’t yourself and that you weren’t okay mentally. I want you to heal, my love. Then we can see where we stand, as you are yourself again.”

“I promise I will heal, vanimelda. I promise.”

~~~

Fëanor kept his promise. He went to Lórien to work on his mind and fëa. It was an arduous journey and he sometimes wanted to give up. The rational part of his mind screamed each time he thought about that to not waste his only chance to win you back. His sons sometimes came to visit him. He apologized to all of them and to Celebrimbor. He was miraculously forgiven.

Fëanor had the pleasure to meet Elrond and his wife, Celebrían, along with their sons, Elladan and Elrohir. It was awkward at first, but slowly, they all warmed up to him. This gave him hope that one day, you could welcome him back into your arms.

~~~

The first time he met his mother in millenia, he cried. He fell into her arms and she hugged him to her chest, crying too. Torrents of tears fell down his cheeks, joy and hurt mixed together. He felt like Nienna had struck him down with grief as he could feel her lips kissing the crown of his head. Míriel rocked him back and forth, humming a tune he remembered was from his childhood.

When he had calmed down, he met his mother properly. They talked for days on end, taking back the time that was cruelly wrenched from them.

“Do you think she’ll ever take me back? Do you think she could love me again, ammë?”

His mother looked at him with love overflowing her eyes.

“Of course, yonya. Please let me meet her when you have won her back!”

~~~

His mother’s words carefully tucked to his chest, he made his way to you. His heart beat-no pounded in his chest and his stomach had a weird fluttery feeling inside of it. The greatest elf who ever lived, Curufinwë Fëanáro Finwëion, was nervous. He knew his sons would welcome him, but you, he had no idea. He hoped, oh how he hoped.

When he stood before you, Fëanor found himself speechless for the second time in his life. You were a beauty to behold, your magnificence unable to be described with words ; you were a feeling, someone to look at. One could not describe your beauty, they had to see it and to experience it.

“Hello, Fëanáro.”

Oh, how he loved how his name rolled off your tongue!

“Hello, (Y/N).”

He had no idea where to start. He had so much to say, yet so little words came to him. When you looked at him and gave him that little smile that made him fall in love, he knew everything would be alright.

~~~

Fëanor woke up, feeling for once at peace. He looked into his arms and found himself smiling, for you were there. The day before, after a long discussion filled with tears, you had accepted him back. That night, you had rekindled your fëas and it felt amazing to feel you again.

That day, Fëanor took you to meet his mother. It was a meeting that made his heart swell with the love he held for the two of you. He invited his sons along and his heart almost burst at the sight of his mother hugging her grandchildren. He looked at you and knew that the overwhelming love he held for you was right. He now knew peace, reunited with his family, even if he missed his father. Yes, this was indeed where he was supposed to be.

@theelvenhaven

Sex with Celebrimbor (Headcannons) - NSFW :

Celebrimbor is the most enthusiastic about giving you pleasure

He likes to have you close as you two fuck, just encaging you in his arms and breathing in your neck

He’s a total romantic, often putting candles all around the bedroom and flower petals on the bed

He loves to just kiss you everywhere and take things slow, but also likes it to take it fast

This type of fucking usually happens when he’s frustrated by a project that isn’t working ou or he’s excited he just finished a massive project

He actually quite likes being teased and being flustered

He basically worships you and your body, and absolutely adores when you fuck with your hands linked

He’s not very vocal on moans/groans, but he likes to compliment you and sometimes make you laugh with his cheesy lines too

« Is your father a thief? Because it seems he stole all the stars from the sky and put them into your eyes. »

He always looks proud of himself after making you laugh, having a charming grin on his face

He loves to cum inside your pussy/ass, his face scrunched up in pleasure, his jaw hanging open from his orgasm

He’ll lay gentle kisses all across your face, while taking the time to massage you a little and make sure you’re completely relaxed, before cleaning up the both of you with a wet rag

You both usually look outside the window, in eachother’s arms, as he continues to tell you corny pick up lines

« If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I’ll give it right back. »

« Tyelpë! »

You both laugh until you fall asleep

@Caliawen