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Chapter Text

"Look at our little goldfish," Fingolgin bore in, proud, loving, longing, pressing Arafinwe's body tighter against the wall as delicate as he was able to. His luscious, hot lips caressed the soft neck and scent glands so tenderly that Arafinwe shuddered, releasing more and more of the refreshing, soft scent. "Arafinwe was so brave, he ruled so beautifully here," he continued between kisses.

Feanor hissed, hungry and needy as the scent of the omega wrapped around his senses almost playfully, needy, with so much longing that it hurt.

He and Nolo may have always been in conflict one way or the other, but their sweet, smallest brother always came first (until they left to avenge Finwe, until they went after the silmarils, until everything went to hell).

He moved with a nervous step to the wall where his brothers were swaying, body against body, and Arafinwe looked more and more ready to melt away. His leggings were already wet.

"We are so proud," he admitted sharply but sincerely. He sank to his knees, and Fingolfin made room for him. He tore off his leggings to take the omega's small, drooling cock into his mouth, and Arafinwe wept loudly because of the powerful wave of emotions and chills that left him almost breathless.

"Fea-nor, ahh, Nolo-" his voice echoed in every nook and cranny of the bedroom. Fingolfin finally kissed him on the lips, brushing them with his tongue until it crept inside, and then continuing almost breathlessly until saliva leaked sloppily between them.

Feanor moved his head harder, sucking until his cheeks collapsed, until he felt every little shiver and heart beat of his lover and Arafinwe ejaculated directly into his eager mouth. Feanor growled in satisfaction around the quivering little cock. Fingolfin interrupted the kiss to whisper more praise.

Thirsty for love, Arafinwe, their precious, sweet omega, clung to every touch of their fingers, lips and good word they brought to him now that they were freed from Halls.

They were determined to never again be parted with him.

Chapter Text

When Finarfin decided to create for himself his own small, comfortable domain, he made it clear to his brothers where they could shove their protective instincts. Not near him, of course. He said something similar also to their father, but in a much more polite way later. Most of his life consisted of his father, the lord of the Autumn Court, having no time for Finarfin, or even noticing him. To be fair, the King Finwe seemed to barely remember that there were any other living beings around other than his advisors and his wife. Therefore, Finarfin wasn't even sure if his father had realized that his youngest son had left to set up his own Spring Court in the pleasant valley he had watched for centuries.

...Worse was the case with his brothers.

Apparently, he supposed, he should expect them to completely ignore his demands.

Of course, he had heard repeatedly from his subordinates and friends that it's nothing strange with older siblings, and the elders in the family literally have an instinct to intervene in the lives of their younger ones at the worst possible times, but - 

...

"Aren't we perfectly on time, Nolo?" Behind Finarfin's back came the mocking, feisty voice of his eldest brother, the half-fairy originally from the Autumn Court and half-fiery spirit that he was after his mother Miriel. "Look at our little boy, how big and confident he has become," the King of the Summer Court unexpectedly leaned over him, almost hugging his hot red lips to Finarfin's sensitive neck. Feanor, the bastard, was always tall and very fast.

"I'm delighted at how proud you've become, Ara," the other brother's voice rang out in front of him, and Finarfin noticed him sitting lazily on the bed. His blue and white robes looked like water and snow, and tiny diamonds glimmered on his sleeves. The King of the Winter Court sent Finarfin a smile full of his sharp teeth.

“Why did you want to keep us away? We are very fascinated by your Court,” Feanor put hands on Finarfin’s hips, brushing them slowly with fingers in a circular motion. 

"This is my Court!" He informed haughtily, feeling a little offended that even in his own chamber in his own domain, the two older brothers felt so perfectly at home. "I wanted to have it all to myself!"

"Oh stars, what a sweet grin," Fingolfin laughed, spreading his arms wide. Feanor pushed Finarfin in the back until he stumbled and fell on the winter fairy. "I am so happy to meet you again, Ara. Your Court interests us, but we don't want to take it away from you after all."

"We don't even want to correct anything here," Feanor assured, bending low so that Finarfin found himself squeezed between two bodies on his bed, kneeling sloppily over one and slowly succumbing to the weight of the other. 

They totally wanted to crush him. Or whatever. He moaned under the feeling of Feanor’s mouth sucking lazily on his neck. Feanor always had strange needs to have something in mouth. 

“We’re missing you, Ara,” Fingolfin kissed his forehead. “You forgot how important you are to us?”

Assholes. It was for sure not fair to use their brotherhood as an easy reason for a meeting! And the worst part of it was that he missed them too and probably he would always give them whatever they would want or need.

“You need to go away in the morning,” he decided. Feanor made a content sound. Finarfin was sure he would have a bruise after his sucking.

“Here, Ara. Let me arrange us better,” determined Fingolfin did something to put them all properly in bed. Both brothers squeezed him in the middle, between them, anyway.

"You won't come every night to sleep with me," he muttered to indicate his opinion of all the adhesiveness of his brothers.

"Of course not," assured Fingolfin, kissing him on the temple. "It's just that sometimes we have to make sure you're alright."

"People are hanging around everywhere, and they're dangerous," added Feanor in a tone of warning, pressing his forehead against his shoulder.

"... Did you break into my court and bedroom because people are everywhere?"

"Among other things," Fingolfin closed his eyes, curling up to sleep. His hands remained caught in Finarfin's clothing. Feanor held him from behind, crumpling his wings a bit, but fortunately not very hard.

His brothers were overprotective idiots.

Chapter Text

"Brother, ahh," Finarfin pressed his forehead desperately against Fingolfin's forehead, chasing the sweetness of his lips.

When Fingolfin and Feanor invited him to spend time together, improve their relationship and other things, neither of the two of them warned him that they intended to-

"Aaahh!" His sob turned into a scream, the hot, greedy lips clamped tighter around his shaft, the brazen throat engulfing him to the root. Feanor held him tightly by the hips, not letting him escape. As he looked down, saw his tumbled hair and the shining star diadem between thighs. Feanor seemed content laying under him like a whore with vulgar mouth focused on the most guilty of the pleasures.

"You're doing well," praised Fingolfin, who was kneeling in front of him, kissing him once more, slipping his tongue into his mouth, "Our wonderful golden boy, give Feanor what he so asks of you."

He didn't hear any requests, but he had feel fingers leaving bruises on his hips and a tongue pressing against his throbbing, sensitive cock.

"Relax, Ara. Come for us," Fingolfin encouraged, one hand sliding over Finarfin's nipple, pinching and twisting it.

Finarfin cried out desperately as white delight hit his head and the orgasm tightened every muscle in his body.

Fingolfin supported him on his knees for years and seconds at the same time, and then helped him fall onto the bedding away from Feanor's head.

His half-brother sat up, licking his sloppy, cum-covered lips, his eyes shining ominously from a desire so deep that Finarfin couldn't tell if it was still love or already madness.

Fingolfin grabbed Feanor's cheeks and pulled him into a kiss, licking Finarfin's cum off his lips and tongue.

Finarfin groaned in shame, hiding his face in the pillow.

Chapter Text

The rules were simple.

When Feanor felt that he was beginning to crumble and crumble, the world was crushing him, and every decision was too difficult to make. He would get in his car, drive to Fingolfin's apartment and put on his red collar.

If Fingolfin was home, Feanor went straight to him. If Fingolfin was not at home, Feanor knelt in front of his desk in the study.

The rules were simple, helping Fingolfin keep Feanor mostly safe from the risk of breaking down outside or worse, in front of their father.

The problem was that the rules didn't take into account Finarfin, who studied by the sea and rarely came to visit.

And now Fingolfin was standing in front of Finarfin, who was terrified trying to calm an even more terrified Feanor, the collar lying on the ground and the world consisting of screams.

Fingolfin loved his little brother, of course Finarfin often slept in his house, not his family home, but-but he shouldn't come for a few more days! If he had known he could come sooner, he would have given Feanor the key to the study to lock himself in. It would have been a bit tricky, but as long as it matched their usual instructions, developed over the years, everything should work.

Fingolfin decided to resolve the matter in the only really sensible way. He kicked Finarfin's dropped phone outside the office and slammed the door with a bang.

A terrified Finarfin raised wide green eyes at him.

"Nolo," he whispered in a trembling voice like a frightened child. "Nolo, whatever happened between the two of you - listen, he needs a doctor - see what kind of condition he's in -" tried the younger man.

Fingolfin crouched on the ground, grabbing the collar with his free hand. He looked mostly at Finarfin, not sure what his brother could do to him thinking he was helping.

"Naro," he spoke up as softly but authoritatively as he could. He had a feeling that he sounded a bit like their father, Finwe, and he didn't like it at all. "Naro, come to me."

Feanor instinctively yanked away from Finarfin, retracing his steps on the carpet backward. He was shaking and frantically shaking his head, looking for a hiding place or an escape route.

"It's okay, Naro. It's all right. Can you hear me? Nod your head if you can hear me."

Feanor nodded anxiously, gravely. He scratched the carpet with his fingers. His left hand didn't look good, he must have bitten it from stress.

"Ara didn't mean to scare or hurt you. Ara will be a good boy, right?" He looked at his youngest brother. "He'll get up and sit at his desk. He won't move from there."

Finarfin looked for a moment as if he was going to rebel, but Fingolfin squinted warningly. The blond man slowly, on trembling legs, approached the desk and sank into a chair. 

Fingolfin could imagine how frightened and desperated the flutter of his heart was in his chest.

He slowly put hands on Feanor’s arms and massaged it with lazy, circulating motion. He hummed soft songs that Feanor liked.

“Ara will sat on the chair, Naro. Let me check you now, okay? Nod your head if you agree.”

Feanor nodded.

He circled Feanor and crouched in front of him, gently touched his hands to his pale cheeks, watching his brother's face intently. He rubbed the bruise from the collar with his fingertips anxiously, wondering what had happened, then took the bitten hand in his hands. He let out a disgruntled murmur.

"Does it hurt?"

But Feanor remained silent.

"I see. Lift your chin, I'll put the collar back on you."

He wrapped the slender neck in red leather and fastened it gently. Feanor let out a faint, relieved moan.

"It's all right, Naro. I've got you," he promised. "Get under my desk, okay? You can rest your head on my lap while I talk to Ara."

He was relieved when Feanor, on all fours like a cat, slipped under the desk docilely. Fingolfin sat down and waited until his brother's head rested in his lap. He wove his fingers through his dark, thick hair, stroking it carefully.

"Nolo," Finarfin spoke nervously. "What is happening here, Nolo?"

He sighed.

"Naro can't handle stress," he said. "He has started to break down more and more often. He comes to me before he breaks down in public."

"But that- that's what you're doing to him -" Finarfin's large, innocent eyes were filled with concern. "Why don't you go to a proper doctor?"

"He will never trust a doctor," he shook his head. "I would be afraid to leave him with a doctor. Ara, Naro is completely vulnerable when he breaks down, he can be easily harmed."

Finarfin looked at his trembling hands.

"Did I hurt him?" He whispered.

"He knows you didn't mean to, Ara. Go rest in the guest room. Tomorrow will be better. We can go somewhere, just the three of us, and you'll make sure he's safe and well. Agreed?"

Finarfin nodded stiffly before walking uncertainly out of the study. He was pale and looked confused.

Chapter Text

Fingolfin flexed his fingers in shame, looking at his older brothers, who had just picked him up from the store.

"Ara, darling, of all the things you might have wanted to steal because of teenage rebellion-" began a confused Fingolfin, a little pink in the cheeks. "Why exactly that?"

"What do you mean why?" He muttered. "It's- I needed it-”

"You could have bought it," informed Feanor. Finarfin was lucky that the guard who caught him knew Feanor and called him, not Finwe. "You could have asked one of us to buy it."

Finarfin felt his blush cover even his ears. He was sure that if someone had touched them, they would have become absolutely hot.

"That would be embarrassing!" He protested, squirming in the couch. The treacherous thought of his older brother entering the adult store for him did something strange to his stomach. Apparently, shame oozed there, hot and writhing.

"Ara, you can't try to stole a vibrator and lube," Fingolfin looked as if he didn't know what to do with himself because of this discovery. "Something like this absolutely must never happen again," he said.

"And now that we have the instructions behind us... since you interrupted us today with something very important, and in addition you need punishment-"

"Naro," Fingolfin looked at Feanor with wide-open eyes. "You don't say-?"

"Well," Feanor stood behind where Finarfin was sitting. His hands embraced Finarfin's cheeks from behind, rough and commanding, easily persuading the fair-haired to open his mouth in front of Fingolfin, for whatever it was for. Then he slid his hands down his neck to his shoulders, lower down. Finarfin clenched his thighs, a little confused, involuntarily rubbing his stomach with his hand. He was getting warmer and warmer. "Look at him. You have to give the brat a lecture for his behavior. And a good search as if the guard didn't find something."

"I don't have anything!" He protested immediately.

"We don't know that yet. Now get up so Fingolfin can check."

It was a little strange at first. Fingolfin's hands carefully examined Finarfin's body with ease, groping his clothes from top to bottom, patting and squeezing. When large, deft hands rubbed his breasts, finding them free of binder or bra under his t-shirt, Fingolfin lost a moment studying their shape and kneading until Finarfin groaned. Then he moaned again and louder as his older brother began squeezing his thighs and crotch. The warmth in his belly became a pleasure, and then, as a token of excitement, love juices leaked out. Right into his thin panties and shorts. Fingolfin pressed his fingers into his crotch in such a way that he easily found the leak. Finarfin felt himself burning with shame, but his brother had already entered his detective mode, which he didn't usually use outside his office at work.

"You need to get undressed, Ara. I'm not convinced you're not hiding anything," he said slowly. His eyes were dark and sparkling.

Finarfin slowly took off his shirt, revealing his small breasts with patches stuck on the nipples so they wouldn't stand out too much. Fingolfin clung with his eyes to this spot completely free of the shame from earlier. Finarfin hesitantly lowered his shorts and then his thin, lacy panties. The damp spot in the middle of both looked shameless. He had leaked a lot. He didn't know he could leak so much so quickly.

"See? I don't have any place to hide anything," he said, nodding vigorously.

"We'll evaluate it right away, turn your back to me and bend over. Feanor will help you do it right."

Feanor was sitting on the couch when Finarfin leaned over, his older brother let him to rest hands on his lap. His brother's rough fingers stroked his cheek.

"Nolo will search you well, Ara."

The meaning of those words reached him far too late, considering how exposed he found himself. 

"Spread your legs wider."

His wet pussy clenched involuntarily at the sound of Fingolfin's rough, serious tone as he gave the command. He spread his legs a little wider. Fingers cool from something slippery found their way to his pussy without warning. Fingolfin spread his lips wide, watching as he trembled, clenched and more love fluid leaked out, dripping straight onto the carpet beneath him.

"It looks empty," Fingolfin said in thoughtfulness, stroking his entrance up and down.

"It's empty!" He indignantly said, swallowing his saliva hard. He tried to imagine what the serious, cool Fingolfin behind him looked like. 

"I'll check."

The first finger sank inside obscenely easily, slipping into Fingarfin's pussy and opening it up a bit. And then Fingolfin got to work. His finger moved inside, then slid out and back in again. He did it as if he was looking for something, correcting the angle every now and then, pushing on the trembling muscles to open Finarfin wider and not once speaking. The second finger joined the first. All Finarfin could hear was his own heavy breathing and the wet, gurgling sounds of pussy on his brother's fingers.

Feanor groaned and then unzipped his pants, releasing his thick, hard cock. He looked into Finarfin's eyes as he began stroking himself.

When three fingers began to move in his pussy it was no longer an audition. Fingolfin was moving him with his fingers, and Finarfin could only lean harder on Feanor. He pushed his body back involuntarily, to the punishing moves of his brother's fingers moving hard. Feanor's cock in front of him, swollen and thick, with precome dripping from the tip, seemed obscenely good. Feanor moved his hand so that Finarfin could see clearly how he was masturbating.

"And how is it, Nolo? Is our little brother empty?"

"Not for long," breathed Fingolfin almost desperately. 

"Come inside," encouraged Feanor. "Let Ara know well what it's like to get fucked before he would want a silicon toy again," he stroked Finarfin's hair with one hand and then wove his fingers through it, pulling gently. "Do you want this, Ara? For Nolo to give you a reward for good behavior?"

He swallowed hard on his saliva, imagining how wet the stain of love juices on the carpet beneath him already was, and how thick and hard Fingolfin's cock could be as he watched Finarfin leak around his fingers.

"Give-give me my reward," he moaned pleadingly.

The fingers disappeared, and he protested weakly, feeling far too empty. Fingolfin grabbed his hips, and then a long, thick cock pushed into his pussy, sinking into the stretched, soft tunnel, love juices leaked out from within. Finarfin felt them flow from inside his pussy, around his brother's cock. He moaned loudly.

Fingolfin was almost gentle. He moved with soft thrusts, shallow but fast. Finarfin's pussy greedily tried to squeeze and suck him, so there was even more wet, slippery sloshing in the room. Finarfin was panting heavily, looking with misty eyes at Feanor's cock. He was proudly erect, with his eldest brother providing only subdued, not too strong stimulation so as not to come too soon.

"You'll be good now, won't you?" Fingolfin exhaled, leaning over his back. "You'll never try to be a little thief again instead of coming to us," he continued, giving his next thrusts a slightly stronger rhythm as he pressed deeper and harder into Finarfin, this time inserting his cock all the way to the base into his pussy. Their bodies slapped against each other loudly. 

"I'll be good," he moaned. "I'll always come to my brothers when I want something!"

"Good," Feanor leaned over and pressed his lips to his mouth, kissing Finarfin hard and deep until they ran out of breath. "That's the way it should be, Ara. You should come to us in times of need."

Fingolfin became more chaotic, his fingers pressing into Finarfin's twitching hips. The elder was panting heavily into his neck. 

One of Fingolfin's hands slid lower and began rubbing Finarfin's swollen, sensitive clitoris. 

The blonde shivered, shocked and hypersensitive, and then he came, becoming a helpless mess of moaning and crying, which Feanor pulled closer to himself to save him from falling completely.

"Not inside, Nolo!" Called Feanor categorically, and a panting, shuddering Nolofinwe slid out of the fluttering pussy with difficulty. His cum sprayed Finarfin's thighs and the carpet.

Feanor accelerated his hand movements, watching the two of them, panting and tired, slowly finding a place more or less on the carpet to regain control of their limbs. Fingolfin groaned, reaching forward and also squeezing Feanor's cock. The eldest ejaculated with a quiet, heavy sigh, closing his eyelids blissfully. Only a faint blush blossomed on his dark golden cheeks. 

***

"How did you like the game?" Fingolfin stroked Finarfin's hair. Light-haired man pressed sleepily into Feanor's belly. 

"Mmmn," Ara purred delightedly. "Can we play like this more often?"

"Next time I'm going to fuck your pussy so hard you won't have the strength to ask for more," Feanor also combed his fingers through golden curls. "How does that sound, Ara?"

"Ooh," Finarfin involuntarily pressed closer to his brother. "Don't encourage me now, I'm so comfortable," he meowed.

Fongolfin laughed and lay down comfortably next to them. Bed was nice and soft under their naked bodies. He liked it.

Chapter Text

He poured tea into two cups and smiled softly at his friend.

"It's nice that you decided to visit me, Mahtan," he said.

"Well, someone should take care of you," Mahtan remarked with seriousness, watching his companion intently. Finwe used to be a man with a serious face, but it had changed over time, his features softened, tiny wrinkles appeared around his eyes and mouth. His thick, dark hair was crisscrossed by a few delicate strands of gray, almost imperceptible in the long braid. Finwe looked at Mahtan with gray eyes with tenderness. He had blushed cheeks and a sweet smile. 

"How are you doing? Your youngest son, Finarfin, is all grown up now, isn't he?" He spoke to break the silence.

"Yes," Finwe nodded with a smile. "My golden boy had a party a few weeks ago."

"What are you planning then? A trip? A renovation? Moving?" He lifted his teacup to take a drink.

Finwe blinked, confused, and tilted his head gently.

"What am I planning?"

"Your sons are all grown up now, you've spent most of your life taking care of them alone. Is it time to go a little wild, have something out of life, learn new things." He suggested.

"What for?" Finwe asked, raising his teacup. "I'm happy in my home," he looked affectionately toward the building that rose proudly next to the gazebo. It was a simple but comfortable structure, a country house just right for a small family. Finwe had moved here when he became a single father of a newborn baby thirty years earlier. He was later married, but his second wife left, abandoning him with two more children. She didn't like the soft, rural artist's life that Finwe lived, making a living from a peculiar tangle of jobs such as selling fruit from the orchard, selling pictures he painted and composing bouquets. He was good at such things. Mahtan didn't know how someone so sweet and kind could remain single for so many years. Actually, he also didn't quite know how Finwe survived the adolescence of his sons, all three of them (but especially the firstborn, from what Mahtan had heard, Feanor was a force of nature).

"Have you never even thought of leaving for a short time?"

"Mahtan, I was recently with the boys to see the rock palace in Nargothrond," he said amused.

Mahtan pulled himself together, then put down his teacup and looked seriously at his friend.

"Finwe, listen. You're important to me, and it worries me a little that even though your sons are grown up, you keep them like chicks. I don't want to hurt you, but you can't keep them with you forever. It's not healthy for you, nor for them."

"Mahtan, my friend. My sons are fine and I am fine too. It's not bad that they live with me. I know in your family everyone left home quickly, but- our families are not alike. And you know, someone needs to help me with my home, garden," he waved. "It's not easy with the time flowing."

"Why don't you try to find a girlfriend?" He suggested. "Or a friend. It's- You know, I really rarely see you in the village or wherever away from home."

"I like my home," he repeated softly. "I know you are worried. And I am thankful for having such a nice friend who cares about me, but I am fine. I promise.”

***

The problem with the friendship with Mahtan was that ever since Feanor became an adult, the man returned every now and then to the subject of the maturity of Finwe's sons. And it was very nice that he was concerned as he was the only friend left to a single parent after his second wife left.... It's just that Finwe, nearly fifty years old now, didn't need someone to constantly check in on how he was doing. Or tried to tell him how to deal with his adult children. His children were fine. He even thought his sons were better than okay, and he was very proud of the fact that I managed to provide them with everything they needed throughout their lives so far.

He was not a useless father. Nor did he keep his sons like chicks - he just... 

He just...

They...

Mahtan would not understand.

Finwe found his sons sitting together in the living room. He crossed the room with a hurried, nervous step. He stood in front of them, almost trembling because of all the energy that coursed under his skin and seemed so insistent as if it would keep him moving for all eternity.

"Atya?" Feanor looked at him softly. "Is something wrong? Did you have a fight with a friend?"

Finwe didn't want to talk about it. Finwe wanted to use up his energy. He wanted to do something already, immediately, with his sons, to feel their presence and know that they were there for him. He approached Finarfin, his youngest, sitting carelessly with his legs crossed, already dressed in his nightgown, although it was only evening. He sank to his knees, looking at his son with kindled eyes, and Finarfin wordlessly spread his legs, placing them on the ground. Finwe squatted down, settling comfortably between Finarfin's plump, milky thighs, and lifted up his nightgown. The young man's cock was already half hard.

"May I?"

"Take everything you need, Atya," Finarfin encouraged him sweetly, reaching out a hand to stroke his head. "We'll help you calm down."

Finwe enjoyed sucking his sons' dicks. He loved panting around Feanor's thick manhood. Finwe enjoyed easily taking Fingolfin's slender shape into his throat. Finwe enjoyed long, languidly licking and caressing Finarfin's small, elegant member, which was not impressive in size, but could get hard several times in one night.

The sucking of his sons was soothing. He stroked Finarfin's dick with fingers for a while until he became quite hard, and then took him in his mouth, nudging his tongue to the underside to properly caress the vein running there. His golden-haired son sighed, not taking his hand off Finwe's head. He said something, but Finwe didn't hear anymore, blissfully distancing himself from all problems and emotions, focused only on sucking around the swollen member and rocking his head back and forth slightly.

It felt good to him, the world was gone.

That feeling of small, thick spurts of cum flowing down his relaxed throat snapped him out of his bliss. He slowly regained his senses to enjoy the salty taste in his mouth, sucking the last loads of Finarfin's semen, and to realize that his other two sons had found their occupation while they waited for him to come back to his senses. Feanor's rough, capable fingers moved in and out of Finwe's ass, lazily, slowly, barely rocking forward and sideways, stretching his ass. Feanor slid them a little deeper and pressed Finwe's prostate, Finwe groaned, pushing right back with his hips toward his son. When he drifted off he was cleverly moved and was now lying on the couch with his head snuggled into Finarfin's thighs, still clamping his mouth on the small cock. Fingolfin watched with eyes brightening with excitement, leaning over Finarfin. His hand stroked Finwe's cheek affectionately.

"Are you with us already, Atya? We didn't want to go on while you were distracted."

He groaned before very reluctantly withdrawing, releasing his soft member.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of doing the show, Atya," Feanor informed him in a hoarse voice, and then his lips kissed Finwe's spine. "Because my cock is hard u ready to enter your lovely hole."

He moaned louder, excited. He struggled to gather himself on his elbows and knees, but Feanor laughed.

"Not so fast, Atya. This place would be uncomfortable for you. Come on the carpet,” The firstborn easily lifted him off the couch onto the soft, thick carpet.

True to his word. Feanor was ready. First he pressed the thick, hard head against Finwe, and the next moment it sank easily into the stretched, oil-dripping hole. Finwe moaned, blissfully taking in the fullness his eldest son was providing, always filling him perfectly and hitting him in all the finest places.

"What a beautiful sight," looking down at their joined bodies, Fingolfin drew Finarfin into a kiss. They kissed sweetly and tenderly, while Finwe looked on, distracted and aroused. He rocked with Feanor in a firm, steady rhythm, the thick cock dragging again and again through his sensitive insides, to thrust straight into his prostate at the end. Before he knew it, he came with a heavy, shuddering inhale, and his cum sprayed the carpet. Feanor pulled him closer to himself by his hips, but could do no more when he too was shaken by his orgasm. Feanor filled Finwe with his cum thick and deep, leaving him with a feeling of fullness and satisfaction when Fingolfin slid off the couch onto the carpet.

Feanor went to the couch to take Finarfin on his lap, hugging and kissing him as he stroked him to a full erection. They both watched as Fingolfin penetrated Finwe fast and deep, all the way down at once, pressing out some of Feanor's semen from him, which flowed down his father's thighs. Finwe burned with a red blush, imagining what his middle son saw as he had a shameless crack dripping with cum in front of him. Shame electrified him, getting him a little drunk with pleasure. He followed Fingolfin's commanding, forceful fucking, which deliberately aimed straight for his prostate with every movement. Wet sounds filled the living room and his thoughts. Whenever anxiety tried to come back to him, a hard thrust straight to his prostate made him feel like falling from his knees and hands even lower.

"I can feel you clamping down on me, Atya!" Exhaled Fingolfin lovingly, excited.

He groaned and sank down on his elbows, hugging his cheek to the rug. It was so good for him! His children cared for him! His sons wanted him! They still wanted him, they still cared about him, to keep him good and happy and full of their dicks the way he liked.

Fingolfin's way was fast and hard, unfortunately he came when his dick wss out and cum flowed down Finwe's back.

"Ah, I'll clean it!" He moaned and leaned low over his father to kiss and lick his back. Feanor went back downstairs, sat down naked on the ground next to Finwe and encouraged him to lay on his lap.

Finarfin disappeared somewhere, but only for a moment. When Fingolfin moved away from his father's back and lay down on the carpet to admire his exposed figure, Finarfin pressed his member against Finwe's thigh. For a moment he rubbed it against Feanor's soft skin and cum, until he pulled back and sank into his father's quivering insides.

"You are so lovely, Atya. So open and soft for me," he moaned, tightening his hands on Finwe's hips.

Finwe weakly pushed his hips back, trying to welcome his youngest son and give him a sign how much appreciated he is.

It was quick, but enjoyable. Finarfin put his fingers around Finwe's cock and caressed it. The youngest fucked him as the hole squeezed and fluttered around him helplessly under the added pleasure of the hand on his cock. Finarfin satisfied the need Finwe felt and ejaculated inside him, rocking some more time later when he was soft. Finwe ejaculated inside Finarfin's trembling hand which was squeezing his dick.

"Are you better now, Atya?" They lay together on the carpet, curling up with and around him, surrounding him with their bodies and love.

"I love you," he moaned.

Feanor leaned over and kissed him hard, sweetly.

"Get some rest, Atya. I think you feel better now," he suggested tenderly.

"Much better," he muttered. His anxiety and frustration disappeared, and he felt only the embarrassing warmth of his body, the heat beating from the three sons around him, and the cum running shamelessly down his thigh.

It felt good, his wonderful sons were so good to him, so loved.

"You worry too much, Atya," he said. Fingolfin grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers together over the tender, sweet Finarfin's breast. "We are here. You'll see, we'll never leave you!"

Such good sons he has!

He loved them very much.

...Mahtan would not understand.

Chapter Text

"You're a fairy."

"Yes, Nolofinwe, we have already talked about this. My mother was a fairy and I inherited it from her," Feanaro sent him an angry look from above the desk he was leaning over. He must have been planning a new necklace, judging by the careful sketches everywhere on the tabletop.

"So why don't we resolve our conflict the right way, as brothers, with the knowledge about your heritage ?"

"Half-brothers," Feanaro hissed immediately,, growing more and more annoyed with each passing second as Nolofinwe continued to invade his precious space.

One of the young elf's smooth hands touched Feanaro's hand.

"Half-brothers, whatever you prefer. Why don't we resolve our conflict here and now?"

"And what seems to be your brilliant idea, Nolofinwe?!" He demanded. He felt like grabbing the younger one and throwing him out the window. He would fit in there in pieces.

"Put your next child in me."

Feanaro froze, opening his eyes wide. His cheeks blushed and his hand twitched slightly under Nolofinwe's fingers.

His half-brother circled the table, moving so close that their bodies were no longer separated by anything but their clothes.

"Come on, big brother," he muttered, moving his fingers from Feanaro's hand to his wrist, then forearm, shoulder, neck.... "I know you want to. Put your baby in me."

Feanaro whined, grabbed his long, soft braid with his free hand and pressed their lips together in a brutal kiss.

"You asked for this yourself," he warned in a hoarse voice, leaving a small, bleeding bite on Nolofinwe's lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that later today you'll feel the spark of new life settling inside you."

Nolofinwe moaned sweetly, weakly, with barely concealed delight, at the thought. He didn't care when, a second later, he was lying on Feanaro's workbench like a new creation; a toy, a tool, an ornament, whatever.

He had been planning how to get his brother's cock for so long. Only his success mattered.