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middleearthpixie · 10 months

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Hello! ^^ Can you write a first time smut for Lindir x female elf reader? They both fell in love with each other and they take their time exploring each other's bodies. Super soft and gentle, from Lindir's perspective. Please!🙏 Thank you 💙

Hi there, Nonny! I'm sorry it took me so long, but here it is and I hope you enjoy it.

Moonlight

Summary: You and Lindir consummate your romance…

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Lindir x fem!elf reader

Warning: oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected intercourse

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.4k

***

A cool breeze wafted gently through the treetops, the rustle of the leafy canopies blending seamlessly with the chirp of crickets and the throaty growls of the frogs that called the various lakes and fountains home. The night sky looked spangled, the sparkling stars looking like diamonds that had been strewn about along a bed of inky black velvet.

Lindir cupped a hand about a thick white pillar candle, trying to shield it from the wind as he attempted to light it. It took several tries, but finally, the wick caught and held long enough for him to slip the glass cylinder over it to protect it from the wind. He set it on the low, white stone wall that ringed the small courtyard just off his chambers, where it joined nearly a dozen of its brethren, their small golden flames flickering every now and then, but their dance did not include bending to the wind or succumbing to it, thankfully.

His gut churned with a nervousness he’d not felt in what seemed like a lifetime. He could not recall the last time his stomach was in such knots, which was silly, really. You had been a couple for a while now, and saw one another on a daily basis. You’d shared a few kisses, but that was all.

Until this night.

He looked over at the large fleecy blanket spread out across the lush green grass. A bottle of wine chilled in an ice bucket to the side. Two goblets stood beside said bucket, just waiting to be filled. He’d set out the candles.

Now, he waited.

Then, he heard your steps on the grass and smiled even as his heart sped up. Even as his mouth went drier than it had ever been. Even as those knots instead became butterflies and without even seeing you yet, his blood seemed to rush warmer through his veins.

“Oh, how lovely.”

His heart skipped a beat as you came into the courtyard by way of the gate. The moonlight shone silver upon you and he knew he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as you were right then. “I thought the candles might be a bit too much. Are they?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

You crossed over to where he stood, stopping before him to smile. “I think they look lovely.”

“Good. I was a bit… nervous. I should hate to have to explain to Lord Elrond how and why I burned down the whole of Rivendell.”

“What would you tell him?”

He reached for you, catching your hand in his, and drew you into his arms. “I’d blame you.”

“He would never believe it.”

“Never say never. I can be quite convincing when need be.”

You gazed up at him. “I’m a bit nervous, I confess.”

“You needn’t be,” he assured you. “But, if you’d rather not tonight, we can always—”

“No, I didn't say that,” you were quick to reply. “I am just being silly.”

“Would it help if I was to ask for your hand first?” A hint of teasing wound into his smooth, low voice. “That way you’d know I am not going to disappear on you come sunrise.”

“Lindir! What a thing to say. Do you think that is what I’m thinking?”

“I hope not. But, just in case. Will you marry me?”

“You know the answer is yes.”

“Very well. Now you have no reason to fear, my darling. You have said yes and you are not forever stuck with me.”

“Oh, no,” you replied dryly, trying, but failing, to look utterly serious, “I have made a terrible mistake.”

“Liar.” He leaned in to sweep your lips with his. He’d meant it to be but a gentle, innocent kiss, but the moment he felt your soft lips against his, he had no choice but to press his a bit harder to yours.

You melted against him, parting your lips and he released a hand to slip his arm about your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your firm breasts pressed against his chest, heating his blood as it slowly changed course in his veins, tightening every fiber, every sinew and tendon, as he responded to just that pressure.

You wound your arms about his neck, welcoming the silken soft stroke of his tongue along yours. His kiss deepened, and when you traced your fingernails lightly along the back of his neck, he shivered against you and sighed heavily into your mouth.

He could resist temptation no longer, the hand he’d splayed across your back sliding down to curve against your backside. He cupped a cheek, pulled you firmly against him, and it was your turn to sigh as that telltale bulge of his erection ground into you to create an altogether new and delicious ache deep inside.

His hand slid up, the other one joining it at your shoulders, where his nimble fingers made quick work of the row of tiny buttons that trailed from the neckline of your gown almost to the small of your back. The fabric parted, the cool breeze skittering across your bare skin as he skimmed his hands outward and the material poured from you to pool at your feet.

You stood naked before him and he almost moaned aloud at the sight—at the high, proud breasts with their already-beading nipples, the curve of your waist and the slope of your hips. Just the sight of you was enough to make his blood scorch through his veins as it flowed south now, his manhood responding to give him away, should you lower your gaze.

But you didn’t. You held his and that served only to fire his lust further. Without shyness or hesitation, he let his gaze roam over you and smiled as he murmured, “You are so beautiful, my love.”

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then you caught your bottom lip between your teeth when he reached out to cup your left breast. He was so gentle, his fingers dancing along the delicate skin, his thumb slipping lightly about your nipple, which tightened even further beneath his touch.

His fingers tightened about that breast, kneaded it gently, and then leaned in to sweep his lips down along your neck. You tilted your head to the side to allow easier access, and his kisses came softly hot against your increasingly sensitive skin. He punctuated each kiss with a teasing nip, and soothed that with a flick of his tongue.

His thumb slipped about your nipple again, then caught it between thumb and forefinger to roll until you gasped. It was amazing to see how tight it beaded beneath his touch, how you responded when he gave a gentle tug, and when he leaned over to take it in his mouth? You shoved a hand into his hair, twisted your fingers into the length, and gave a tug that sent a sharp zing across his scalp. But that only heightened his arousal for you, only made him want to explore you further, to see what else would make you pull his hair and arch hard against him.

He took his time, let his lips caress each delectable inch of you as slowly as he could, which was no easy feat, as the very sight of you, the scent of you, the feel of you—warm and soft—against him was enough to drive him mad with desire. But, he wanted you to feel that same fairy desire, wanted you to ache for him the way he did for you. This was not only your first time with him, but your first time ever, and he wanted it to be as magical for you as he could make it.

He caught you in his arms, maneuvered you onto the soft blanket, and came over you gently. His lips found yours, his kiss hot and teasing and slow and he fought back a sigh as your lips parted and he slid his tongue along yours again. You tasted of sweet strawberries and he took his time exploring your mouth, drawing your tongue back into his own to savor that heady sweetness for himself.

He swept his lips down over your chin, down the front of your neck, which bowed as he caressed the sensitive flesh. He continued down, moving slowly along you body, kissing his way along your creamy soft skin, burnished ivory in the candlelight, his lips smoking a path along the inner curve of the breast he’d been teasing. With each sigh that wafted to your lips, each hitch of your breath, he grew bolder. Your body fascinated him, so soft and curvy, and as he kissed his way down, he sank to his knees before you. A hint of wildflowers and musk floated up to tease his senses. Your scent. Yours and yours alone.

“My love,” he breathed, drawing back to gaze down at you, at the way your hair glinted in the moonlight, fanned out beneath you. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and sensual, your lips full and pouty from his kisses. “You have no idea how often I’ve envisioned this moment.”

“Do tell,” you whispered, your lashes fluttering against the pale expanse of your cheeks.

“I’ve dreamed of it. Of you. Lying just as you are now, bathed in silvery moonlight, a temptress amongst women.”

Heat crept into your cheeks even as you smiled. “You do have a golden tongue, my love, know you this?”

“I speak only the truth,” he whispered, letting his fingers trail lightly along the rise of your left breast. You sucked in a sharp breath, and he repeated the motion, smiling as he held your gaze even as he cupped your breast, slid his thumb harder about that aching bead, then worked down along the curve of your waist, over the rise of your hip. Each caress left you more languid than the one before it. Each one had you pressing your thighs together because the sensations offered up a hint of relief from the maddening tightness of arousal. You wanted to grab his hand, to guide it to that ache between your legs, but hesitated. What if he thought you wanton for aching to be touched there? What if he found you too brazen for wanting that arousal sated?

So, you bit down on your bottom lip as he continued his leisurely exploration of your body, as he moved slowly down along your thigh, over the back of it, to that sensitives patch just behind your knee. You couldn't help your sigh, which made him smile and switch direction, now skimming long the back of your calf. Up toward your backside. Over the rise of that cheek. Back down. You shivered against him, which spurred him on even further. As he drew closer to those curls at the apex of your thighs, he looked up and whispered, “I love you.”

You smiled, a hand curving against his cheek as you murmured back, “I love you, too.”

He winked then, and moved lower, his lips following in the path of his fingers—thigh, knee, calf—each kiss followed by a hot, teasing swirl of his tongue.

He moved over your thigh and you bit down harder on your lip now. You ached with wanting him, the achy tightness between your legs growing damper with each caress. Everything inside you hummed with the need for him to quench the fires he sparked to life.

Your soft mewl didn't pass unnoticed and it took every bit of will he had to keep moving slowly. He felt your dampness. The scent of your arousal grew stronger still, as if trying to guide him to where you wanted him to be.

He followed that guide, leaning in to graze your inner thigh with a teasing kiss. Your legs parted of their own and he almost signed at the heavy musky scent that filled his nose. Wildflowers. Honey. The most enticing of perfumes greeted him, welcomed him.

Lured him in.

He bent to you, his nose brushing the damp curls between your thighs. Fire swirled through him at the soft gasp that reached his ears when he slipped a fingertip into that wet heat. Slick. Hot. Enticing. He ached for a taste and so bent to you to slip the tip of his tongue into your folds, tracing along the curve of that satiny bead nestled within them. Your hand sank into his hair, spurring him on, encouraging him to caress you slowly, increasing the pressure against you as you sighed and moaned beneath him.

Your hips moved with him, and he responded by flicking the tip of his tongue over that silken pearl, and when you grew wetter still, he let his fingers slip through that slick, stroking toward your opening. You moaned softly again as he eased his finger inside you, teasing you, caressing you inside and out, as you quivered around him. You thrust your fingers into his hair once more, twisting even harder now, your hips rolling slowly toward him to meet each caress. He was in no hurry, savoring every moan that bubbled to your lips, every drop of arousal that clung to his tongue, and he knew you grew close to your release in the way you moved with him.

“Lindir…” Your breathless whisper rose into the gilded darkness. You trembled against him, your fingers twisting harder now, your breath rapid as you arched to meet each slow, teasing thrust of his tongue. He laved along that delicate pearl, gentle at first, but as you whispered “Yes…” he licked harder. Faster. He slipped his fingers into your slick, and when he found what he sought, he slid a finger inside you and smiled as you tightened around it. You sank against him as he continued his onslaught, stroking until he found that small swelling along your front wall and teased it as you pulsed around him.

“Lindir!” You shattered, your release as sweet as your arousal and he was relentless in his caresses as you throbbed around him, trembling and pleading with him to not stop. As if he would. Your cries of pleasure were the sweetest music to his ears and while he ached to find his own relief, he was in no hurry to end yours, either.

He slipped his finger free as you stilled against him and when you sank to your knees to meet his gaze, you whispered, “My turn,” and offered up a smile that turned his knees to jelly.

A hand pressed into his chest urged him onto his back on the soft blanket and he smiled as you straddled his hips and caught his hands in yours before pinning them to the blanket on either side of his head.

Your lips claimed his and as you deepened your kiss, you slid your hands free to catch his tunic by its hem. You shoved upwards, breaking the kiss only long enough to whisk it over his head and then, when you came flush against him, he couldn’t hold back his moan. Your breasts, with those rosy beaded nipples, pressed into his skin, made the ache twisting his insides even worse. Your heat beckoned him, his hips rising to meet it, the pressure offering a bit of relief, but not nearly enough.

His eyes closed as you moved down along him, trailing kisses over the smooth, warm skin his bared chest, and when you swirled your tongue along his left nipple, it was almost his undoing. He had no idea how sensitive his own were until then, and his entire body ached with the need to be inside yours, to feel that wet heat tight about him.

Your hair spilled across his chest, warm and silken, and he buried his hands in it, let the gossamer strands caress him as you did. His head spun from the slow, teasing kisses you rained down over his belly, to the waist of his trousers.

Then you looked up and smiled as you unfastened them. As you gripped them. As you tugged them down and he sprang free from them, hard and proud and begging for your attention.

Your name rose to his lips as you bent over and your lips closed about him. Your tongue moved slowly up from his base to his tip, your lips teased where your tongue did not, and when you gave a gentle pull…

He twisted his fingers in your hair as ever fiber in his body tensed, as the need for release tightened about him like a powerful fist, squeezing and pulsing with each stroke, with each teasing pull. White lights danced before him, and when you traced your fingernails along his sides? His moan rose like a mist into the air. His hips rose to meet each caress. The ache inside him grew stronger and more demanding and he had to force his eyes open as he gazed up at you. “Please… I need you…”

You pulled away, a look of utter satisfaction on your face as you whispered, “Need me for what?”

He smiled. “I think you know, love.”

He came up then, his lips seizing yours, his chest pressing into yours to urge you onto your back once more and as you obliged, your legs parted to let his hips settle between them.

You felt the silken steel of his erect member slip into your folds, slide along your aching, overly sensitive flesh, and you shivered beneath him as he moaned above you. You teetered on the precipice. There was no going back now.

He caught your lips in a lingering kiss and you felt the gentle probe as he positioned himself. You were so tight about him, the resistance greater than he’d thought it would be. He drew in a deep breath and thrust, and you cried out at the brief sting of his breeching you. Then he went still, and you whispered, “What is it?”

“I love you,” he whispered back, then began moving inside you, each thrust slow and controlled, and little by little, the stinging ebbed and only pleasure remained.

And what pleasure it was! It swelled within you both, fiery and hot and sweet, and with each thrust, that pleasure grew. It engulfed both of you, driving you both closer to the edge of madness.

Your heat fed his. His fed yours. He surged harder now, tensing as his climax took root. It began in the soles of his feet and worked its way up like a rolling wave of thunder, and all he saw was you, your eyes sparkling, your cheeks flushed. You were close. He felt it in the way you tightened about him, the way you pulled him deeper still and throbbed around him once more.

Everything inside him tightened. Twisted. Threatened to drive him insane as his climax bore down upon him. He couldn’t put it off, had no choice but to surrender to the inevitable as you squeezed him with a powerful rhythm and your fingernails dug into his chest. You tensed about him.

He twisted his fists into the blanket beneath you, arched hard, and climaxed with a blazing fury that had him moaning and shuddering above you, that had him going rigid from the force of spilling hard inside you and you eagerly accepted it, pulsing and throbbing around him. You clung to him, your fingernails digging deep into his back. Your surrender met his and as he sank against you, you wrapped him in your arms as if you would never let him go.

You fought for breath, as did he, and you held him as he trembled against you. Smoothing his hair away from his temple, you murmured, “I do love you.”

“Oh, I love you, too…”

“I think we should do this again.”

You smiled as he lifted his head to stare at you incredulously. “Already?”

“Well, perhaps we should wait a few minutes,” you amended. “At least my head clears. I might faint otherwise.”

“Probably a wise idea.”

“I thought so.” You tightened your arms about him, and it all just felt so perfect, so right. You were where you belonged and you were not about to let him go. Not ever, if possible. No moment had ever been so perfect, as the one you shared with him in the moonlight on the most romantic night of your life.

#lindir #the hobbit #lindir x reader #lindir x fem!reader #lindir x you #second time writing him #hope i did him justice #bret mckenzie #nonny asks #pixie answers

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