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doodle-pops · 7 months

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Wild, Wild Thoughts

Fingon x reader

Kintober 2023: Fantasy/Daydreaming Sex

A/N: This was manifested to me in the form of a dream as well (the earlier half of this year), unfortunately, I had never gotten to finish the dream. So, here's my chance at making it come true.

Warnings: fem!reader, fingering, fantasising in the form of daydreaming, manhandling, masturbating, voyeurism, penetrative sex

Words: 6.7k

Synopsis: Spending the entire day out with your friend leaves you with a bag of jitters and frustration as thoughts of him consume your mind. The most appropriate course of action is to fantasise and pray you don't get caught in the act.

List of Requests

You couldn’t take it any longer. All the moans you were suffocating at the back of your throat led you to become vocal tonight all because of the raven–haired ellon between your legs. Kissing his way slowly, like a snail’s pace, up your calves over your knees until his scorching breath lingered inches from your core. It was covered in a flimsy piece of material, easy to discard should he decide to use his fingers to tear, but it prevented you from experiencing his lips; or rather, it was his incessant teasing.

The coy smirk on his face responded to the look of irritation gathered upon your brows. Your lips puffy and eyes teary from the period of time you’ve been sitting, strapped to a wooden chair with him toying with you like some plaything.

“Finno, please! Don’t tease, just get on with it!” you whined, tossing your head backwards and releasing a frustrated groan.

In response to this, he inched his head closer, lips hovering just a centimetre away from your inner thigh. Poking his tongue out to moisten his parched lips, he collided with your flesh and delivered an array of kisses. A combination of bites and soothing lavish of his tongue over the area was performed. All you could do was elicit moan after moan and squeals. As sensual as his actions were, you weren’t expecting them to be ticklish.

His calloused hands then lifted to grip your thighs, holding them apart as he lavished the area in hickeys. A place where only you and him could vouch as a testament of your secretive affairs. It was his private place of worship to relieve himself whenever he was stressed, and it was you who offered yourself his temple to praise.

Squealing when his tongue got closer to your underwear, he dove straight in and kissed your clit through the soaked material. You were hoping he would remove the obtrusive clothing, unfortunately, he left it there as he continued to place nimble kisses on the area. The more he kissed, the more your underwear clung to your core and displayed your desperation in wanting him to get on with the show. But for some unknown reason, he refused to move further.

Growing tired of his endless teasing, you looked at him with irritation and shouted.

“Hey! Y/N! Hey!” Waving his hands in your face as you zoned out once more, Fingon bore a worried expression as this was the third time you repeated your daydreaming. He was believing that it was best if you two had stayed indoors and celebrated the ongoing festival instead of roaming the bustling streets of Tirion. It was too dangerous when you were stuck in your daydreaming and getting lost in the crowd behind him.

Feeling a sense of frustration seeping into your bones as your little fantasy popped, you threw an annoyed expression at your friend. As much as it wasn’t his fault, you just wanted someone to blame for your inability to continue your little, wild, fantasy. Squeezing your lips together and rotating your head to meet his worried stare, you feigned a smile—which he saw right through—and answered, “Yes, Fingon. What can I do for you?”

The painfully aggravated expression was unmistakable, and it worried him to know who or what caused your mood to change abruptly. You were perfectly fine this morning and all evening—much to his lack of awareness—so what was it that brought this change.

Pouting due to annoyance in your tone of voice, not enjoying that it was being directed to him, he lowered his voice and came closer to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

His question held innocence on his end, noticing that you were perhaps irritated by the large gathering of people in public. A place of solitude and tranquillity should do the trick in calming you down and reverting your senses. All your grumpiness should go away and you will be back to normal; a few treats and desserts should also lighten you up given your affinity with associating food being a mood changer. On your end, given your little salacious dream, his proximity, the heat of his breath ghosting your neck leaving an unnoticeable shudder and his scent, you didn’t take his question innocently. It was an invitation to more sensual ideas of what he could be possibly initiating, especially when he was so close, and his eyes held innocence.

Parting your lips to respond, you were struggling to formulate a suitable answer given the rabbit hole your mind was leading you down. Various explicit visions flashed across your mind with you and him once more; him using his lips and voice to pull all the sweetest sounds from your throat, or the way they would kiss your skin and cherish you.

Slipping into another moment, you were quickly shaken out of it with a nudge to your shoulder. “Hey, are you listening?”

Unable to meet his eyes, feeling as though your mind would embarrassingly say or look at him strangely, you nodded with a hum. In an instant, you were being pulled through the crowd by his firm grip around your waist. At first, he held your hand, but when he felt you slipping behind again, he reached down to snake his arm around your waist and pulled you close to his side. Your breath was caught in your throat for you didn’t know what sound you would make if you were to release a sigh. Even if you did, would he hear it over the loud sounds of the people cheering and singing through the city?

Nevertheless, you remained silent, allowing yourself to become delusional about how he would feel against your body. The way his arms flexed and trembled as he tugged your limp body through the streets pushed more ideas of the things he could do.

Feeling your face being planted into the mattress and a firm hand resting upon the nape of your neck, you squealed as more force was applied to keep you immobilised while he ploughed you from behind. A quick slap to your ass landed before the sensation of his hips slapping vigorously against the back of your thighs went off. One foot was planted beside your hips while the other knelt to hold his position as he drove himself into your repeatedly.

His panting was one of the loudest sounds in the room, second to your incomprehensible gibberish. Your fingers were scrambling to latch onto something, anything as he pounded away into your heat. You didn’t care if you tore the bedsheets or ripped the headboard off, you needed support for the pounding of a lifetime he was delivering. The feeling of his balls slapping against your clit was insurmountable, and it seemed like the faster he drove himself, the more pleasure he gave to the little nub.

From your angle, it was impossible to notice what he looked like as he folded you into the mattress, but surely he appeared just as handsome as he always did. Hair cascading down his back, lips parted to release all his grunts and groans, stomach taunt, a sheen of sweat down his tone and tan body and a smile on his face. He was forever joyous whenever he was performing something he enjoyed, and you were positive he was enjoying the feeling of driving himself in and out of your obscenely wet cunt.

If it were not for the echoes of your heat squelching and running your arousal down his cock, you wouldn’t believe that you were that hungry for him as well. Yet, when his other hand slipped off your hip to reach for your clit and gave it a small pat, that’s when you knew you were done for. The slippery sensation of his fingers rubbing your clit told you of all the build of your arousal and his release. It told you how much you both desired each other.

For a brief moment, while his hips drove forward, your body began to slide forward, easing out of your arch and landing on your stomach with him moving alongside you. Not once did he slip out the entire time, continuing to press immobilise you as he placed his weight atop your body. His lips fell by your ear allowing you to hear his panting; how well you were satisfying his needs.

Fingers still wedged between your thighs and toying with your clit, you opened your mouth to release a silent scream at the rapid build–up of pressure on your end. Hands scrambling to tug on the sheets, you couldn’t wiggle out of his hold with the grip on your neck (you acted as though you hated the feeling when you loved every second of being pinned). Whining as your orgasm approached, you began chanting his name repetitively like a mantra, like it was your prayer to deliver you from the onslaughter.

Any moment and you would combust in his hold alongside him. Even he was close as his groans deepened in your ear, shooting tingling sensations to your core and forcing you to leak all over the sheets.

“You’re doing so well for me?” he murmured into your neck, sounding like a whimper. “Are you close love? I’m close too you know. I need you to come for me.”

“Uh–huh,” you whined, burying your face into the mattress.

“Good girl,” he praised. “We’re here…”

Jerking your head upwards at his remark, you were somehow conscious to pick up his unusual speech. “Huh? What did you say?”

“We’re here.”

“Y/N!” With a violent shake of your shoulders, you were jiggled back into reality with Fingon standing before you with his still concerned expression.

Lifting your hands to push his away, you darted your eyes around the room and noticed that you were back at the little cosy house he built after moving out of his parent's mansion. The fireplace was already lit, the lights were on, and there was even a pot of water bubbling away on the fireplace for tea—you suspected. All that completed the look was Fingon shaking you like some mad woman, back to life and ruining your fantasy once more. You were so close to actually orgasming for once since you started your daydreaming this morning.

With jerky movements, you stepped away from him and silently removed your coat and shoes before walking over to the sofa and making yourself comfortable. You wore a confusing expression as you stared into the crackling fire which left Fingon even more anxious. No response he got from you and now you were behaving even stranger.

Still standing before the door, he turned to observe you with furrowed brows and gnawing lips. He was contemplating that asking you to come out and enjoy the festival was probably your reason for being so distant. It was his fault for your mood changes. A bit hurt that he was the cause of your demeanour, he left you alone while he retreated into the kitchen to make you a cup of jasmine tea and plate some of the desserts he snuck off to get you this morning.

Returning with a slightly merrier pep in his step, he chose to sit across from you on the single seat and offer you the plate of cookies and cake along with your tea. Surprisingly, you took both items from his hands wordlessly, yet you offered a wry smile which unsettled him. You both sat in silence the entire time while you snacked on your treats, much to his surprise, you actually consumed. There was a small comment he wanted to make about food brightening people’s moods, but he wasn’t sure if it would be well–received with your lack of focus on him.

Your eyes were averted and fixed on the fire, attempting to replay the images of your visions and doing everything to not stare at him. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach the longer he sat opposite you and gauged your reactions. You wanted to scream, shout and yell at him that the way you were feeling was all because of him, but it would ruin the beautiful friendship you had built from scratch.

“Um, I’ll be back shortly. I’m going to change out of these clothes,” he announced, catching your attention. Mostly, he was hoping to get away from the awkward atmosphere you were creating to catch a breath of fresh air before returning to confront your mood swings. It was unbearable to stand aside and watch as you pushed him away from things he had no clue about. Was it something he said or done to you? Was it truly the invitation to leave your house and step into public with him?

Whatever it was, when he returned, he was going to sort it out whether you wanted to or not.

Watching as he dragged himself out the sofa and up the stairs, you made yourself comfortable and slunk deeper into the sofa to recreate another imagine; something to soothe the burning ache between your thighs, and most certainly not stop the gush of slick building up. The trouble you were setting yourself up for was immense and you did nothing to stop yourself. Waiting until you heard him vanish halfway up the stairs, you allowed your mind to wander, not sure where to focus or what to create. You needed to think of something fast to dissolve the ache between your legs and to stop you from rubbing them together.

There were tons of moments from today to use, there was him licking icing from a cupcake, wiping icing from around your mouth and then licking it off his fingers when you less suspected or when he was standing directly behind you; being pressed together by the crowd as everyone attempted to fit themselves in a tight place. You were able to feel the outline of his abdomen through his tunic and thin shirt. Mayhaps you could combine it all together and create one complete imagine, but that would take time, and he would be back by then.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as your options to seduce yourself into relief were vanishing at the tips of your fingers. Slouching deeper into the sofa, practically hidden from his sight if he were to march down the staircase, darting your eyes to the window, then cocking your ears to listen for his footsteps, you took the risk of lifting your dress to gather at your thighs. Your heartbeat was erratic as you slipped your hand under to press the tips of your fingers against your clothed clit, you clenched on instinct.

Pressing your thighs together and squirming on the sofa as your fingers pressed harder and rubbed the nub, you exhaled. Your eyes were shut as you attempted to conjure swift imagines to reduce some of the ache, instead, they only opened an ocean of your arousal to flow in great turbulence. The stickiness from your underwear had coated your fingertips and allowed for a smoother circulation of your clit. You didn’t miss the heat pooling in your lower abdomen as you continued. With your breathing increased, your hips joined the party and began gyrating along with the constant squeezing of your thighs.

It was easy to imagine Fingon’s fingers replacing yours and removing your underwear to rub away at your clit. The situation would be better if he decided to not tease you as he always did and remove them to display his seriousness, going straight for your release without hesitation. He would be on his knees before you, gently coaxing you to allow him to handle your pleasure and leave it in his hands. A soft kiss to your knees before moving up your thighs and stopping before the one place of solace. His larger hands would waste no time in prying your legs apart to reveal to him your temple of worship, there, his fingers would easily slip in and crook directly at your sweet spot. Desperate to get you off his hand, he would swiftly lean down to place kisses all over your lower lips, swiping his tongue through your folds.

Perhaps when you were asleep, you would build on that imagine and allow it to graduate into something larger, as for now, you would just work with the outline to quickly deal with the ache.

“So this is why you were all grumpy today?” Huh?

Snapping your eyes open, there he was, the ellon of your dreams standing before you, with his arms folded across his chest and an inquisitive smirk on his face. His tongue was prodding his cheek before it slipped out to wet his lips. You felt like he was scrutinising you under his gaze, all you could do was abruptly push your dress down and pull away your hands. The entire time he stood there inspecting you, he was silently running his eyes over your face and down your body, occasionally stopping at where your fingers were buried before returning to your face to read your embarrassed expression.

Unable to speak up, to which he beat you, you curled your legs against your thighs and looked down at your fingers twiddling. “There’s no shame in admitting that you were impatient to indulge in private activities, I would not have judged you,” he began with sympathy, “we all need our moments, but turning on me the entire day because of this—I’m not sure if I can excuse your behaviour, Y/N.”

“I–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad…”

Kissing his teeth, he took a few steps forward until he stopped at the foot of the sofa. “Well, my feelings were hurt,” he mumbled and touched his heart—gosh, he could be such a kid at heart during the oddest moments. “But my real question is, why did you stop?”

Confoundedly blinking at him as though he sprouted five more heads, your head ticked like you were spasming. “W–W–What? What do you mean, “Why did I stop?”” you inquisitively questioned with concernment. “You walked in on me!”

Mischievously grinning at you with a low chuckle, he lifted his right hand and waved his index finger at you cunningly. Hissing at the satisfaction he was experiencing at that moment, knowing that he had you by your foot, there was nothing else but winning at this point. “Because dearie,” he began, “you were moaning my name. Gave me every reason to investigate why my lovely friend was singing my name so…enticing. Most sinfully in fact.”

He caught you off guard with that confession. You weren’t aware of his name leaving your lips, you were only thinking of his actions, not crying out for him.

Caught in his web and aware that you weren’t conscious, he sat on the handle of the sofa. “Something tells me that you had no idea you were singing for me,” he teased, clearly enjoying your facial expressions. “I’m curious to know though, what was I doing to arouse such an explicit response, Y/N?”

Flustered at his inability to drop the situation, you found it impossible to dissuade the topic of choice and vacate the room. All you could do was remain seated firmly in the spot you curled up in while he slipped off the sofa handle and strutted over to where you were cornered. A hand on the back of the sofa and the other behind your head on the armrest, his body caged you in like a prey.

Is this real–life or is it just fantasy?

“You were clearly enjoying yourself back there, so tell me, what was I doing?” His eyes sapphire eyes glittered as they shone upon your figure, focused on your face and observing every micro–change of your expression. Placing one knee upon the cushions and the other remaining on the floor, allowed him to cage you in more—and marvel at the size of his arms up close. “Or rather, tell me all the things I was doing in your mind today, while you were preoccupied and dazed.”

“Finno,” you playfully whined, letting out a squeeze of painfully embarrassing chuckles and breaking eye contact to gaze at the back of the sofa. Gnawing on your lower lip, you could feel the intensity of his gaze. The anxiousness was slowly eating you alive as you remained indecisive about your response. If you told him, what would happen, likewise, if you didn’t? “I can’t tell—Why do you want to know?” you choked out.

“Because,” he whispered and shifted his right hand to brush the back of his hand over your cheek, “who wouldn’t. Who doesn’t want to know if they’re pleasing someone right; I know I do.”

“You’re not em–embarrassed by what you caught me doing?” you asked.

Jerking his head back, he furrowed his brows. “Why should I? We all have needs that require attention, and there are those that require extra,” he lowly whispered, this time, his face came closer to yours. Lips centimetres away and an ache pooling in the pit of your stomach. How were you not blushing and kicking your feet at the proximity left you baffled. “So tell me, what was I doing to you?”

And so, the butterflies swarmed your stomach and core.

You managed to make eye contact at that moment and crumbled instantly, blurring out your fantasies without an ounce of shame and watching as the smile on his face grew till his dimples were pronounced. There was never a moment where his eyes widened or dipped, only slithering as they became darkened with lust and the desire to reenact all of them. He was profoundly intrigued by your ability to create such vivid imaginations from only a single interaction. Had he any idea of how creative you were from the start; he wouldn’t have allowed you to suffer in silence.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He gave a shake of his head as he roamed you up and down, indecisive of which scene he could reenact and make both your fantasies come true. “Mmh, your imagination is quite colourful, I don’t know where to choose from.”

Opening your mouth to reply, it caught his attention as he jutted his chin out to give you the floor. “Perhaps you can use the one where you…manhandled me?” you shyly asked as your cheeks grew warmer.

“If I recall, you’re a virgin, so that might not be the best option to use for a night between us,” he corrected.

Sitting upright and stretching your legs from out under your dress, you cocked a brow invitingly. “Says who?”

Now it was his turn to become a stuttering mess, not expecting your challenging response. While opting for something a little more leisurely as you engage with one another before the fireplace, you were desirous to increase the heat. Deciding that your response was certain, he straightened his posture and reached for the ends of his shirt to toss on the floor, followed by his trousers. He was left in nought by his nudity before your eyes, giving you a chance to properly admire whether or not reality matched your imagination.

Though he was a bit impatient to get the ball rolling, he outstretched his hand for you to take and hauled you to your feet. Swiftly, his hands spun you around to unlace your dress and dropped it to the floor in a pile at your feet. The urge to feel conscious before him was present, however, he refused to allow that to happen. Reaching for your underwear and tugging it down your legs, once off, he rose to full height and pulled you into his body. Flushed against him and able to feel every outline of his abdominal muscles and his girthy cock against your back, you shuddered.

His hands were swift to roam your front, splaying themselves against your front and cupping you delicately. From his left hand, his index slipped through your folds and ran along until he came to your slit. There was no build–up or time wasted as he entered you and groaned into your ear; with ease, another finger joined in. While his right hand was busy and his left rubbing your sweet bundle of nerves, his lips were ghosting the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings as you wriggled in his hold.

“I need you to spread your legs for me, love, just like that. Good girl,” he praised, giving a small kiss under your ear. His warm breathing was fanning your cheeks as he groaned from the softness he experienced while he fingered you. Those lips were tracing your ear like a drawing, wanting to map out its outline to perfection while he groaned about how good you felt. “Am I pleasuring you just like you fantasised?”

Crying out instead of answering the way you wanted, your head tossed backwards and knocked against his shoulder as his fingers pressed against your sweet spot. You couldn’t help but stomp your right leg on the floor as the pressure swiftly built—said a lot about how pent–up you were all day, dying for release. Fingon looked on fondly at your reaction, feeling a sense of pride swelling in his chest at the way your upcoming orgasm took you. Continuing his ministrations down below, his lips left your ear and attacked your neck in a series of vivid dark blotches. Where he didn’t kiss or suck, he nipped and nibbled.

His body swayed from side to side as he held your squirming body in his hold. Humming in satisfaction as your walls clamped around his fingers, sucking him back in whenever he attempted to escape, he grinned against your skin. To him, this moment could have stretched on for a lifetime, but given your frustration, he didn’t see the need to keep things slow–paced. Surely you would turn to him again whenever you required a hand, or your fantasies became too much, and you needed an escape route.

Shutting your eyes as the intensity in the pit of your stomach burned, you curled in on yourself, saved by Fingon whose iron grip around your waist kept you pressed against him, you chanted his name like a prayer. It sounded so holy and unholy falling from your lips at the same time, nonetheless, you sang praises for him which fuelled his pride to push on with more dedication.

“Come on love, you’re close, I can feel it. You’re almost there princess,” he encouraged, incessantly whispering against the base of your throat and planting aimless kisses every now and then now that he was finished with his artwork.

The sound of his voice was the catalyst you needed to give you that final push. Combining that with the focus of his fingers curling and crooking against your sweet spot while his other fingers expertly rubbed your sweet bundle of nerves, you were light. Your head was spinning, and you were mentally not on earth any longer. “FingonFingonFingon, I’m close. I’m close—”

Your cries were cut off by a loud stuttering moan as your body curled in. Stomach and thighs clenched; you were giving yourself an unnecessary workout. All you could do was flop in his arms and hope that he’d take care of the rest while you floated somewhere above the clouds now that the ache was gone. You didn’t know where were up or down, left or right, or if you still standing or being lied down. Whatever was happening, you were putting your faith and trust in the hands of Fingon to ensure that everything was sorted out thoroughly.

He watched as you lay in his arms, dazed with hazy unfocused eyes. They were resting on him, but far from noticing his face hovering over yours concerned. Sinking with you in his arms to his knees, he placed you on the floor and cuddled you against his slightly sweaty body. With your back against the cool floor, he slung your left leg over his and gave your inner thigh a massage while he waited for your recovery. His eyes flickered from your face to your chest, sensing your erratic heartbeat and dragged his fingers away from your thigh to press against your chest, he softly beamed.

The moment his hand was placed against your chest, your eyes snapped open and darted to meet his softened gaze. There was a peaceful silence between you both as you held each other’s gaze, neither of you saying anything, just feeling each other’s energy. Propping himself on his arm, it allowed Fingon to hover and manoeuvre his hands to wherever he wished, though he kept situated on your chest to feel your erratic heartbeat. He loved the slight hitch in your breath at random times as you fought to keep your breathing under control, giving him the opportunity to experience the effect he had on you; the way you were struggling to not show him you were affected. However, he saw right through it, and it made him tittered lightly.

“So, what do you want to do after you get your breathing under control?” He was being overly prideful at that moment, what you would do to wipe it off. It might cost you your pride as well when it comes to dealing with him of all people.

“Ha, ha, how funny you jester,” you retorted with a sarcastic grin as you outstretched your hand to slap his arm. “How about you take your sneaky hand off my chest first and then we can move on to the next part of my imagination.”

Musing, he leaned closer to meet your face, pressing his forehead against yours, “I thought my hands are where they should be…” (trailing his fingers away from your chest, they returned to your left leg and hoisted it over his to pull you closer) “right here for that matter, for when I’m taking you just right.”

An inaudible gasp floated past your lips once your body collided with his. Leg left hooked in the crook of his right arm and your body partially rotated, you understood the position of choice. Different from what you were expecting since you wanted to be manhandled, but you were still grateful to be engaging in something, nonetheless. Deciding to be helpful, you shuffled your body closer until your back met his front when a perplexed look across his face. “What are doing?” he questioned.

“Don’t you want me positioned like this?” you replied, equally confounded as he was.

With a modest laugh, he shook his head and jutted his chin out to direct you. “I want you exactly as described in your fantasy, knees and arched—we’re sticking to the script princess.”

You wanted to sob at the awkwardness you felt at that moment for misreading his moves. Fortunately, your brain saved you with the opposite reaction and brought light laughter to the atmosphere, helping things to move along.

Hauling your body into the imagined position, your knees were blessed to be resting on a cushion courtesy of Fingon slipping on under. A soft, “Don’t want to hurt those knees,” fluttered throughout the air, and it aided in removing any form of anxiousness that either of you suffered. Instead of tension, there was airy laughter compared to the unholy position you were getting yourself into for him to marvel at. Still with laughter in his chest and mirth in his eyes, his gaze faltered momentarily once they flashed to your cunt facing him.

Your folds were still shining from the aftermath of your orgasm with a bit of cream around the outer lips—from the build–up of your frustration and sinful thoughts. To imagine that this was the outcome of a supposed spoiled day, neither of you would have guessed this would be happening; you on your knees and Fingon kneeling behind you with his cock in hand, giving it a few tugs as he shuffled closer to for entry. Attempting to remember his position as recalled by you, his right foot was planted into the floor while his left hand held your hip for aligning before it switched to your neck.

Unable to waste another moment and draw things out, he slid in all the way to the base and brushed against your cervix. The way your body shuddered and curled, now he understood why his hand were to root itself on your nape which was why he did so swiftly. He was leaning over you perfectly, pressing a bit of his weight against your back to sink you into the floor deeper into a profoundly disturbing arch; your legs widened. A soft whine emitted from your throat at the feeling of being full and satisfied instead of feeding yourself your imagines.

Hands knocking against your floor, your right found purchase on the leg of the table, while your left reached out to take hold of the sofa. Your eyes shut as the immense sensation of having him slowly grind his hips and brush his tip against your cervix was a bittersweet pain. Clamping your walls around him instinctively, there was a hiss and a firm grip on your hips; fingers digging into your flesh while the grip around your neck tightened in retaliation.

“Fuck!” he yelled as a sense of confusion washed over him at your tightness. You squeezed him with a death grip. “Dammit, Y/N. Trying to kill before I start?”

You knew what to expect since he was reenacting your dream, but this was far from how sinfully delicious you expected it to taste. There was barely a moment for you to catch yourself with the rate at which he was drilling into you. No amount of gripping the table or sofa could stabilize your mental or physical state, he was pushing past the limit of no return, and the unfathomable sounds you were making were testament. No handbook or instructions could prepare you for the happiness and pleasure you were being condoned.

Allowing yourself to slip away as he took care of you, all you were left to was moan, mewl, cry out his name, squeal when he smacked your ass and gasp whenever his tip brushed against your sweet spot. Other than that, lying there and taking all that he gave was your role in this reenactment—the best part to be honest.

Feeling your insides being melted and remodelled to his liking, you smiled subconsciously causing a bit of drool to slip out past your lips and leak onto the floor. Even on the opposite end, with all the vigorous pounding he was doing, there were lewd sounds being emitted with every roll of his hips driving his cock in and out of your heat. Like your fantasy, you imagined correctly as his balls were slapping against your sensitive clit and producing the ‘pat–pat’ sounds echoing loudly in the background. Not even the fire crackling was able to drown out the sounds of yours and his moans.

For every ‘pat–pat’ his balls made in contact with your little bundle of nerves, a little flow of arousal seeped out and stained his cock, leaving a ring of cream at the base.

“Oh fuck! Eru, right there Finno—right there!” Shouting out to him that he was aiming just right and hitting the correct point, as soon as he followed the command your air was sharply cut from your lung and pushed out a loud, high–pitched whine.

A look of satisfaction followed his gesture before it turned into a smug look. He genuinely enjoyed watching as you fell apart on his cock, knowing that you thirsted, craved and even dreamed about it. You were too dangerous to be left unattended, someone as responsible and caring as him needed to keep you in check. And how generous he was to do so by becoming indulgent for his selfish purposes.

“Is your fantasy being satisfied—ngh, shit!” Being cut off as you randomly clenched around him, he threw his head backwards and yelled.

Indeed he was fulfilling your fantasy more than perfectly. Your incoherent mumbling was a testament to the fact. “Ohmygodohmygodohgod, fuck! Mmh, so good Finno!” you chanted.

With meticulous and calculated thrusts, his tip constantly knocked against your sweet spot, making you see stars. One might believe that it was true with the starry and distant look in your eyes. Slipping his hand off your neck and allowing you the opportunity to breathe properly, his hand stopped at the centre of your back and pressed against it, sending you into a fouler arch. To think it was possible, the pain was bittersweet but the new angle his cock was hitting was even better. The diabolical calculations of his thrusts surpassed all your expectations, and with another orgasm approaching, he might as well consider himself permanently engraved in your mind forever.

He was doing everything to have your insides remember him, his weight, girth, length and robustness. You doubt you could forget what it felt like to have him embedded in you, making himself comfortable and well-accommodated. However, as he continued his thrusts and you were well on the receiving end of pleasure, his high was approaching.

Dropping his right leg and pressing his weight atop yours, flattening you against the floor, his mouth was by your ear, and he was able to hear all your moans more pronounced. “Hmm, where do you want me?” he asked breathlessly as he fought to maintain a secure grip on your waist now that his perspiration had rubbed off.

With your cheeks planted against the floorboards and your eyes shut, you mumbled something along the lines of, “Wherever you want,” before refocusing on the sensation of his cock hitting spots deeper. His weight was more delicious than a fantasy.

Clenching his stomach and holding back the urge to cum right then and there, he lifted himself off just a bit and balanced on his hands. Averting his gaze to where his hips meet your ass and his cock disappeared, he groaned as the sight was becoming too much. Nothing could compare to the lovely shade of cream wrapped around the base of his cock or the way your ass jiggled with each slap of his hips. This was a sinful version of paradise, one only a few people knew about.

Unable to hold himself any longer, he pulled his strength from the depths of his soul and pulled himself out of your heat to empty his release on your ass. It was painful enough to remove himself from your warmth, wanting to cum inside, but given the situation of how…delusional you were, he refused to. Another time he would be blessed to fill you according to one of your dreams.

The deep, guttural grunt that emitted his throat was beautiful and would be replay during your lonely nights. Hunched over your back as you both panted from the aftermath, his arms were vibrating and ready to collapse. Averting his eyes to the outline of your ass under the glow of the fire, he watched as his release painted your skin, some running between your butt cheeks while the rest remained calmly on your skin.

Not able to rest on his arms for longer, a swift kiss was planted in the middle of your back before he flopped to your side, between you and the sofa to hug your upper back and bury his face into your side where your breast lie. Sleepiness was swift to overcome him, and he struggled to fight it off, knowing that you would require being cleaned before slumbering.

There was a sudden shift on your end as you turned to rest on your side, facing him with an equally sleepy expression. Reaching a hand out to cup his face, your thumb brushed his cheek, tracing where his dimple usually surfaced. “Thank you,” you murmured, unaware of whether he heard you.

Humming and muttering something under his breath, you laughed at his dazed state and shuffled closer to pull him against your chest. His head was nestled between your breasts, a leg was lazily thrown over yours and his hand was around your waist as you repositioned on your back, ignoring the mess. Running your fingers through his inky hair, he felt his head grow heavier as the seconds passed with the occasional murmuring of how he couldn’t fall asleep yet.

“I have to…clean you up,” he groggily explained while his body jerked with the intention to see his actions through.

“It’s alright, you did your part already. I’ll see about the rest,” you reassured, patting his head and lulling him to sleep, calling your adventures a night.

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eunoiaastralwings · 7 months

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Hi Eunoia, this is my first time requesting so I'm hoping I'm doing this correctly (I've read through your rules as well), but could I request a mini fic/headcanon about fem!reader reuniting with her lovers Fingon and Maedhros in Valinor after the Ring has been destroyed? (Plot: Reader stayed in Middle Earth after Fingon and Maedhros' deaths to look after Elrond, and only returns to Valinor on the last boat with Elrond, Bilbo, Galadriel, Frodo and Gandalf after Sauron is gone?)

Haven Reached

featuring maedhros x fingon x fem reader

fandom tolkien-the silmarillion

warnings slight angst

a/n i reply after 1658565 years - I hope this is what you intended hun sorry if it isnt as you hoped to have

You stepped onto the shores with help of the son you had raised.

As you did – many fair elves turned to you, captured by the beauty and elegance you carried effortlessly without fail.

With eyes that spoke wisdom of many passed ages and kindness that could sweep the many ellon or elleth right under their feet – you stepped gracefully into the shores of Valinor from the last boat.

For a moment – your eyes looked back into the seas. . .Arda seemed almost a distant memory now and while you were supposed to return to Valinor many, many years ago to heal your aching heart and crying soul for your beloveds. . .

As a mother – you stayed behind, willing to put your heartaches aside to the twin sons you had gained.

Even though one of your adopted sons, Elros had chosen a different path in life. . .a short mortal life, you still failed to return, staying behind for Elrond.

For deep down – you knew he needed you and would fare well if you departed Arda so soon.

But suddenly your thoughts were grasped away when a voice called your name – mending a part of your heart with the lightness of that gentle voice.

“Melda. . .”

Your heart fluttered – then turning your eyes immediately those nestling browns of one of your lovers made half your soul crying out to him.

“Finno. . .”

Your voice – soft, delicate, and beautiful just as he remembered -like the early spring breeze.

“Y/N. . .”

He didn’t waste a moment longer to swiftly embrace you in his strong arm – caging you to his chest as if you were the air that he longed to have.

“You’re here. . .”

He said almost breathless – as if he was unable to believe his own eyes.

His hand came to rest on the back of your head – cradling your head as he pressed a kiss to your head, lingering there for a few moments longer.

“You’re here. . .”

He repeated – holding you tighter. If you listened carefully, you could hear an emotional tinge in his voice.

“Finno. . .”

You whispered – the tears you had suppressed for so long coming in with full force and Fingon did not hesitate to soothe you.

Soon gently lifting your face and locking your lips firmly in a familiar and almost forgotten kiss – soothing half of your crying soul as he embraced you with his tender affection and love, with touch of his desires he was forced to hold back as you were still standing among the shores.

The kiss was nothing short of what you had imagined with Fingon on your countless nights dreaming of meeting him – it was tender, loving, tearful and blissful.

“Come . . .”

He softly whispered.

“We shall meet Maitimo – otherwise he will think I have whisked you away all by myself, melda. . .”

Your heart fluttered as his loving tease just as you remembered came.

You smiled – cupping his face and stroking his cheeks – the imagines of his death finally leaving as he held you. . .your soul slowly reached that peace you had always dreamed of.

Fingon lips stretched into that charming smile that never ceased to flutter your heart.

The softest of red coated your cheeks and her fingers gently traced that smile you longed to see for many ages now.

Fingon reached forward and kissed your forehead – soon taking your hand to guide you to your Maitimo.

You momentarily looked over your shoulder – your motherly instinct making your eyes search for your son.

Elrond met your eyes and nodded encouraging – silently telling all was well as he embraced your daughter -in-law.

“I always knew you would be a wonderful mother – I am very much proud of you, my love – in everything you have chosen to do, no matter how gravely we missed you. . .”

Fingon softly whispered as his hand protectively held your small hand in his strong large hand.

“Thank you, melda. . .”

You smiled -Fingon’s ears perked up recognizing the change of your accent now.

If anything, it pleasantly surprised him – and he endearingly loved how your accent changed to hold only a tinge of your former Valinor accent now – now vastly an accent of Arda with a tinge of your old accent.

His eyes sparkled getting used to the change – realizing how much he already loved it.

“You sound beautiful. . .”

He said – cupping the side of your face gently for a moment.

***

Fingon led you towards the gardens of Lord Irmo – your hands were delicately brushing the flowers of the garden, each one unique to the next.

A vast variety of textures and color you couldn’t find in Arda – making you realize just how long you have been away from your birth place.

Maitimo saw Fingon walking towards him from the corner of his eyes – immediately standing tall.

“Where is she? I heard the last of the boats have-”

But Maitimo seemed to have cut himself off seeing your small figure treading up behind his male lover.

A shaky breath left Maitimo’s lips as his eyes locked with your eyes – the part of his soul that had being missing about to be reunited.

But you could see the clear hesitance in your other lover’s eyes.

Fingon turned to you – giving you the soft encouraging nod as you step past him towards your other lover.

Maitimo’s entire body froze – his eyes wide as you approached him.

It pained you to see him so nervous and scared – he gulped now that you were so close, only a foot or two away.

You knew why he was hesitant and scared – for Maitimo did not even spare you a glance or even spoke to you one last night as he fled from Eonwe’s tents with the silmarils.

He knew you broke your heard as he discarded you for the sake of the oath – he had placed the oath above you.

“Russo. . .”

You said softly reaching out to cup his face – he flinched stepped back a little.

Your heart ached at the sight. He must have seen the flash of hurt that crossed your eyes – because then he left out sigh closing his eyes heavily, before he fully crouched before you.

“Y/N. . .meldanya. . .forgive me. . .”

He whispered – a heartbroken whisper.

You sighed reaching out to cup his face and gently stroked his cheek – he instantly closed his eyes leaning into your touch and kissed your fingertips softy.

“Oh. . .Russo. . .”

You called him softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead as he broke into tears in front of his two lovers.

Fingon came forward – laying a comforting hand on Maitimo and an arm around your waist, his thumb caressing you softly.

“We’re here now. . .together”

Finno whispered laying another kiss to the side of your head – as Maitimo finally had the courage to find your lips in a soft kiss realizing you had forgiven him.

“Together. . .forever. . .”

You promised the two of them – now had you had your lovers back you weren’t going to give them up again.

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