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#Emerald Bound
ra-archives · 3 days
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Milestones
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hayweerc · 2 months
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I was bored and thought 🤔"huh my fanfic doesn't have an official cover for it" so I was inspired to make a book cover/poster for Bound by Chaos.
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futuristichedge · 1 month
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Sonic and the Black Knight save me. Save me SATBK
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catboy-cyrus · 8 months
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The ace!
Wanted to use a shading style I haven't in a while :> Had fun!
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geckomeleon · 5 months
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Calla an Air Flower. Her tail is large and really long but she has full control over every inch of it and uses it as a whip against her foes or wraps it around them to restrain them similar to how Gale constricts her foes.
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emerald-dragonflame · 5 months
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Mate... if you need to know the political views of an artist, you're fucking stupid.
Asking an artists about what they think about politics is like asking a clown about politics.
All you'll get is jokes
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1gurgi1 · 1 year
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Starting the year off strong! 6 books read for a total of 3,608 pages!
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glknight · 2 years
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ARNEA OF THE MYSTIC CANNONS from TWILIGHT’S DAUGHTER
“While I may not have magic or godly strength or the aid of the dead, what I do have is skill and an eye for detail.
And for when craft is less than what is required, I will always goes for overkill. Because overkill is a statement. And when you have a cannon that formed itself out of the ground pointed at you, you have no choice but to listen or suffer the consequences.”
- - - - - - - -
One of five heroes from Twilight’s Daughter, Arnea is something known as a Synthet. A reason of people whose souls are consensually bound into inanimate materials like stone and precious jewels, they gain the ability to manipulate inanimate materials with greater finesse and detail as their skills increase. This transformation, however, comes with some serious drawbacks. For while their pseudo-flesh responds like it were their own skin with warmth and give, their senses are diminished. Dulled by the unnatural creation process. Many find themselves haunted by the things they can no longer partake in, like food. Their sense of smell is a fraction of what they once could. They do not sleep, more akin to blinking and finding that hours have passed without any notice.
But Arnea does not mind her lot in life. For her, there are only three things she cares for.
The first is her cannons, honing her craft until she is able to create a weapon that will end all wars in a single blow that she hopes will never come.
The second is the ability to guide future Craftspeople in their endeavors, serving as a mentor to all who seek her teachings and tutelage.
And the third is the love of one of her own party members. A friend she had fallen for on sight four years prior. Unable to confess her feelings, worried that her heart has become as cold as the stones and metal she is made of at the frightening prospect of a kinship that she may never know is there.
But terror and madness is coming. And she knows that her friends will need her calm focus, just like she needs their power and love.
- - - - - - - -
A thank you once again to @kimstramat for drawing my cannon obsessed craftswoman for me.
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atwas-meme-ing · 7 months
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I like Sonic X, but their theories on how the Emeralds and stuff work just don't make sense. Like, how come in X there's such a strong electromagnetic reaction when a new emerald is added to the group, yet Sonic can just slip one in his quills every time he comes out of a special stage? The writers really needed to look at the source material for research, smh.
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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Theodore Nott. | be my first.
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PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader
PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”
WORD COUNT: 5.5k.
TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.
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"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"
Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.
"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"
"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."
Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."
"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."
Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"
You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.
As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."
Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"
"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."
Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.
"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"
Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."
Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.
With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."
An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."
Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.
Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."
You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.
In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."
"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.
Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."
Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."
Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.
As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.
Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.
"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"
"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."
Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.
A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"
Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."
With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.
"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."
His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.
"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"
With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.
Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.
Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.
You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.
Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.
In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"
"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."
Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.
Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"
He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."
You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.
"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."
"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"
Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."
Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.
"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."
Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."
Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.
"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.
"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."
"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.
Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.
"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."
Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.
Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.
"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"
Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.
Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.
Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.
And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.
The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.
A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.
Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.
"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."
Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"
His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.
The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.
A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.
"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”
Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.
Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.
"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"
"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."
Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."
"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."
Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.
"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."
"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."
Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.
"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."
Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."
Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.
"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"
As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."
Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."
"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."
You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"
Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.
"Fuck me,"  he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."
Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.
Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."
"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."
You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.
"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"
Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.
"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."
His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.
"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"
Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.
"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"
You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."
"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"
You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.
Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.
"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"
You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."
"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"
His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.
Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."
"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."
Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.
"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."
He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.
"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."
Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.
"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."
"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."
Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.
"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"
Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."
Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.
"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.
"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."
Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.
"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"
Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.
"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."
He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.
"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."
Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."
"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."
You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"
"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"
He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.
"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"
His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.
"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”
"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead.  "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."
You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.
"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"
"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."
"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."
You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.
Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.
In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.
"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”
You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."
As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."
Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."
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hayweerc · 4 months
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"Bound by Chaos" Sonic AU Chapter 2-part one
The beginning of the trios adventure.
Pages 1-8 / 16
⚠️🩸 blood/mild gore /hemocraft / cartoon violence /death
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evergone · 8 months
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Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.
Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?
Too Friendly
Theodore Nott x reader
Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.
Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.
Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala
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“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.
“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.
“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.
Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.
Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).
The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.
She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”
He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”
“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.
“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.
Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.
“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”
Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.
Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.
“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.
“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.
“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”
His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”
Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.
“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.
“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.
“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.
“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.
“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”
“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.
You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”
When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.
A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”
Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.
“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.
“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.
You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”
“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.
“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.
He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.
“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.
“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”
For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.
“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.
“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.
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etheries1015 · 6 months
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Bestie yk that Yuu begins their friendship with Malmal because sir was roaming around old buildings right? Imagine Yuu starting a friendship with Malmal simply because of boredom. Class was soooo boring so Yuu decided to just chat with the person near them, which was Malleus.
You don't care if he's the next king of Briar Valley, if you're bored then entertainment is THE priority.
YES I LOVE THIS OSDLFSHEESFLS what better entertainment than the Fae prince himself?
Imagine You, sitting at your desk listening to another long and strenuous lecture that had not managed to keep your attention, doodling not even being able to satiate your boredem. So, what's the next best thing? Bother your deskmate, of course. You noticed him a few times; a rather tall fellow with long black horns and eyes as captivating as pure emeralds and ears pointed unlike a typical human. You always thought perhaps he had an affinity for theatrics- the way he seldom spoke up. At times you thought he hadn't even been a student at the school- the teachers never seemed to call his name during roll call (Of course it was because everybody already knew the esteemed prince of the land of faeries.) You know what they say, right? Always befriend and be nice to the quiet kid in school. So, out of boredom and curiosity, You tapped his shoulder.
"Hey," You whispered, The tall man with pointed ears started at the sudden contact before turning his head to look at you peculiarly. Without as much as an answer, you began to ask your question.
"Are those real? Your horns?" He seemed to pout at this only for a split second before confusion and offense seemed to mix into his (rather beautiful) features. He tilted his head before seemingly deciding on something in his mind, leaning over to take another look at you.
"Is that a genuine question, child of man? Are you, what they say, 'pulling my leg'?" He asked. You almost laughed at loud at the pompous way of speech he took on, and immediately knew you would be thoroughly entertained by this man. You found it...almost incredibly attractive, the way his silky deep voice spoke in a victorian royalty kind of way. You let out a quiet chuckle and with a raised eyebrow you leaned against your desk with a hand propping up your head as your elbow lay firm against the wood.
"Well, as far as I'm aware I'm as genuine as one can be," You smiled, "I'm (y/n), what's your name?" Another question that colored him mildly bewildered yet incredibly inquisitive at your pure ignorance of who you sat next to. Malleus opened his mouth to answer, yet found himself closing it a couple times while contemplating revealing the truth. Perhaps this person was genuinely in the dark about his status and position, and he did not want to miss the chance to converse with someone who willingly wanted to hold relations with him. Thus, he bit his tongue and turned it into a game.
"My name doesn't matter," He said, "How about you choose one for me?" You raised both of your eyebrows and bit your bottom lip attempting to hold back a roar of laughter, you truly had found one interesting fellow to introduce yourself to.
"Alright...how about...hm..." You studied his person before snapping their fingers in revelation. "Hornton!" They said it almost too loud, and the professor quickly chastised them for speaking during the lecture. Malleus gave you a fond smile and nodded, turning back to the teacher resuming the boring lecture that took place.Your boredom showed no bounds, however, and you decided to hand Malleus little doodles with silly notes through the end of the period. Malleus did not reciprocate these notes, for royalty need not indulge in such silly idiocracy, yet the least he could do was appreciate your attentiveness to the prince. Once the bell rang and marked the end of the period, you collected your things and held out your hand to the tall prince.
"I decided you're my new friend! Here's to our long-lasting friendship, hornton!" Malleus's eyes widened in shock, standing and staring down at your...incredibly trusting and naïve smile before his shoulders shook in laughter. Nodding and holding his hand to reciprocate your gesture of kindness, he shook it earnestly.
"Indeed. I look forward to our...friendship." He watched as you skipped away and out of the room to your next class, Malleus gathering the silly little notes he now called his treasures and shuffling them into his pocket.
He suddenly found himself becoming excited for next day's boring lecture.
~~~~
Masterlist
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solarisfortuneia · 3 months
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— 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞…
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(or, in other words, promises of their dedication to you.)
✦ featuring: childe, kaeya, xiao, zhongli, kazuha.
✦ warnings: none, just the smallest smidgens of angst in some places.
✦ notes: so, this is a really old work i posted on my first blog that i'm proud of sjhhjs i found it a while ago and decided to rework it a little!! (i haven't changed too much of the original though, just tweaked some sentences and added and subtracted.)
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…i’d pull hell and heaven to their knees at your feet, and i’d kneel alongside them (if I could. oh, if only i could).
childe wants to give you the world and more.
he’s almost reverent in his devotion to those he loves, seeking to please beyond all else, and what he holds toward you is no different. at merely a blink of your eyes, he’d bring you the sun and the stars, weave moonlight into fabric and find a chunk of the most beautiful emerald you’ve ever laid eyes on, and he does it all with a wink and a smile and a ‘you need only ask, dear,’
and it is true, you need only ask for him to lay out the world for you.
but alas, there is only so much fate will allow him to do. his heart and soul may rest in your palms, but he is duty bound to the tsaritsa.
ajax can promise you everything in the world, just not himself.
he cannot promise you himself in his entirety, he cannot promise you an ajax without his secrets, without an always existing barrier in between you.
no matter how desperately he wants to.
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…i’d stand bare in your light, arms asunder, abandoning my secrets and shedding the shadows i once called home.
kaeya alberich fears trust.
he’s scared of what it could lead to, what it could do to him, what it has done to him. he’s a man who lives under a cloak of secrets and inside a cocoon of fear and mysteries, and for him to allow himself to expose everything he hides is no small feat.
but it is the surest mark of his trust in you, that some hopeful part of him believes that you’ll stay against all odds.
he thinks you shouldn’t, though, that it’ll cause you more harm than good— he won’t let himself want you. but you’ll know he is truly yours when he hesitates no longer to tell you the deepest desires of his heart, to bare his whole soul and lay it before your eyes.
patience, and you'll find him the most beautiful butterfly of them all.
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…i’d cross the deepest of chasms, weather the harshest of storms, and brave the most treacherous of paths to return to your arms.
not a soul can say that adeptus alatus has no home to go back to. (and if they did, how utterly wrong they’d be.)
his home is the warmth of your embrace, the love in every gentle caress, and the soft cadence of your voice. it's the smile in your eyes, and the spring in your step, and the softness of your heart. he’d call it almost dream-like, but xiao knows what dreams are like, far better than anyone. he also knows that every dream— no matter how intense, no matter how vivid— always disappears.
but you’re still here, day after day,
does that not mean you’re as real as the air he breathes and the sun that sets over liyue?
xiao’s loyalty is hard won, but it is steadfast. he cannot promise that he’ll live forever, nor can he promise you happiness every single minute of the day. but what he can promise you, is that at the end of the day, he’ll fight his hardest to return to you, no matter how far away he might be.
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…i’d etch your memory— from the most mellifluous laugh to every tiny victory— onto my very soul, so that not even the flow of time can wash it away.
morax has prospered for centuries.
he’s witnessed dynasties fall to dust; paupers rise to prominence. he’s come across many he was fond of and cherishes the memory of everyone he has ever cared for. 
he’s also aware that forgetting some people in the vast expanse time is inevitable. the withering of the blooms of thought spare none, not even a god, and the tree of the psyche grows ancient. after all, even the mind is not permanent in a world of transience, is it?
but zhongli would be damned if he ever let you fade.
his promise, no, his contract— one he made to himself the day the realization that you'd one day no longer be by his side fully set in— is to preserve even the last wisps that linger, encasing the thought of you in shimmering gold, so that after you are long gone, you’ll live on as part of his soul.
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…i’d whisper the softest of tales into the night breeze, tales of you and i, so that even when we’re long gone, the wind will carry our stories for aeons to come.
kazuha is no stranger to the whispers of the wind.
he’s intimately familiar with them, a rare blessing he knows he is lucky to have. but his most divine blessing is the privilege of being part of a story with you. life is short, unpredictable; one never knows what their fate might be, but he's beyond glad that this part of his destiny has you.
he has no desire to be a legend, and he knows you don’t either. but he is sentimental in the regard that he wants the whispers of the two of you to stick around. he’s lost so much, and reciting stories of the two of you is his way of preservation, for nothing spoken into the wind vanishes.
the world knows only a fraction of this wanderer, but he hopes that if they remember anything about him, they remember how much he loved you.
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darlingofvalyria · 9 months
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in hightower green— a masterlist.
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The life and lies of the secondborn daughter of Viserys I, twin to Aegon Targaryen II, her rise to power and prominence, and her bountiful marriage to King Jacaerys Velaryon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.
For her crown, though no conqueror wore, was bathed in the shadows of the silent battles and wars she had won. For the Kingdom and for her lineage. Though she too wore many names, those that knew the stories— or the whispers — called her by others.
The Bastard Eater. The Kingmaker. The Spider Singer. The Emerald Fire.
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+18 MDNI | Jacaerys Velaryon x Manipulative Targaryen!Reader, (Aegon's twin)
。˚ ❀↳˗ˏˋ please make note of the different TWs by each part ˊˎ˗ ↴
♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MAIN STORY (chronological order; you can technically read it them each as one shots) ::;˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀
I. IN SCALES OF GREEN, DRESSED IN SEA | smut, angst = The honour-bound prince does not want you. Or so he tells himself.
II. IN CLOTH OF BLACK, BABE IN BLOOD | angst, smut = Through all your scheming— you had made a mistake. It is about to cost you everything.
III. IN BASTARDS OF BLUE, WAGER IN WAR | angst, smut PART ONE | PART TWO (coming soon) = When whispers of the dalliance of bastards reach your ears, your vengeance roars for Winterfell.
(cold feet)
。˚ ❀↳˗ˏˋ ADDENDUM STORIES ˊˎ˗ ↴🌸
COLD FEET | fluff | you talk your daughter down from her cold feet.
AU! | A DALLIANCE OF DRAGONS | smut, angst | after your husband betrays you, you turn to your uncle for help.
THE CHILDREN (& LEGACY)
FIC TAG MOODBOARDS | [ The Queen Consort & Gaelithox ]
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Message to be added to the taglist!
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lokisgoodgirl · 11 months
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Husband [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a lifetime of longing, it's finally time to seal the deal. Follow on to Heirs - but can be read as a one-shot (w/c 1.8k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Asgardian HC. Fluff & Smut.
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The silk chiffon of Loki’s robe tingled against his skin, sash loosely bound. There would be no guards in the corridor that stretched to his chambers. Not tonight.
Pacing barefoot across the marble floor, he noted the squeeze of a damp hand intertwined with his. Steam from the palace baths dissipated from the air with every stride. There were no words needed, just the pad of your footsteps following close behind his own.
With a nudge of his head, Loki sent a wave of seidr rolling up your bodies. You giggled quietly, the delicate sound echoing. The god threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing your newly dried hair bounce as your steps quickened. “Hurry,” you chided, stifling another giggle. Loki turned on his heels, feet squeaking on the polished floor to a stop. You collided with his chest. “You do not command me, wife,” he warned, squinting theatrically before breaking into a smile. Loki’s heart leapt at your gasping laugh as he swept you off your feet, the drape of your matching robes scratching together. Your legs hung over one elbow, his hand securely fastened around your midsection. Loki would never forget the way your pupils dilated as you stared into his eyes, the whole world growing out of focus around what was in his grasp. Around you. “I love you-” he breathed, cutting himself off by leaning to catch your lips. The heavy wooden doors to his chambers opened of their own accord, recognising their master's presence. He let his tongue explore deeper with every powerful stride towards the matrimonial bed, slow and purposeful and all-consuming. Loki stopped, breaking the kiss to take in what lay before you both as the door swung shut. Dozens of tall candles adorned the arched windows, throwing an orange glow towards the navy dusk of Asgard sprawled below, just out of sight. White fur pelts draped across his bed, neat emerald sheets replaced with luxurious folds of cream and beige. Loki’s mouth twitched in mild disapproval. “Look,” you said, excitedly patting his shoulder and nodding towards a table by the fireplace. Lit by soft flickering flame, he saw the traditional finger-food of Asgardian gentry laid out on delicate piles. Each plate more tempting than the last. “Yes, very nice,” Loki hummed feebly, giving the scene a cursory glance before his attention was drawn unavoidably back to the pulse of your neck. Furious desire was thudding in him like the drums of war. It was becoming unbearable. His cock, violently hard and swollen and aching against his stomach. It had a heartbeat. Loki tightened his grip on your body in his arms, inhaling against the angle of your jaw. He sucked at the scent of your clean skin like oxygen, drowning. “Husband?” you moaned softly. She’s impatient. Loki felt every hair on his arms erect in unison.
One of your hands moulded to his cheekbone as you pressed your forehead to his, nuzzling his mouth until he relented. Your lips working against his own, Loki made the final steps to the bed before reluctantly lowering you to the pile of furs. He retreated, drinking in every inch of flimsy white chiffon that did nothing to hide the curves beneath. How she taunts me, he thought with a smile; pulling lightly at the sash around his waist, this wife of mine. The two of you were no virgins. But tonight, it felt like it was so. Wisps of half-forgotten memories twisted deep in the god’s mind; uprooted from their slumber. And another, and another. Like they belonged to someone else.
Lovers of every rank and station, known to him in dark hallways and golden bedchambers. The half-remembrances evaporated like smoke. But none like this, he thought with a comforting smile as his chiffon robe pooled around his ankles. He could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks, radiating from the coyness of your smile. None like her. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, raising his chin. He felt your appraising gaze dart up his displayed body, a series of rapid breaths beginning to pepper the air making his heart swell. Your gentle pants fluttered against his obliques, denying yourself the taste of his skin until the hallowed words had been spoken. They caught behind his teeth. The prince felt his abdomen clench, every muscle in his body resisting the urge to fall upon you. A wild tide on rocks.
“Will you accept me as your husband to your bed this night?” he uttered, laden with ceremony. You straightened in front of him, slow hands tugging at the fastening of your robe.
“Yes, my lord,” you answered seductively, looking him dead in the eye. “I will.”
The sheer fabric began to slip from your shoulders. The exchange was a formality. A tradition. But as Loki’s fingers wrapped around his straining cock, feeling fat droplets of pre-cum roll against knuckles; he conceded it was one Asgardian tradition he was glad to keep.
With an arm outstretched, you dropped the delicate robe onto the stone floor by his feet. Loki could feel the growl building in his throat. Low, primal. A shudder rolled over his biceps as you leant back on your elbows, drawing the soles of your feet onto the bed. He let his eyes run over the lines of your body, the flex of your thighs, the plump sweetness of your curves. She will be the death of me, he thought as he inhaled a staggered breath. No, he pondered after a beat, lowering to place his palms on either side of your shoulders. She is the beginning.
His fingers trembled as he placed one hand over your heart, eyes never leaving yours. “Do you trust me?” he murmured, barely audible. You frowned, glancing to where his fingers lay. “Always,” you whispered. The skin beneath his touch glowed green as Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He opened them tentatively, softening. “The bond of my protection,” he explained bashfully, “now, if ever you need me, I will be with you.”
His heart dropped as your face scrunched, cupping his jaw. “You were always with me,” you said softly, straining upwards to place a gentle kiss on his parted lips. And in that moment, Loki knew. He worked his mouth across the curve of your cheekbone, wordless sounds of adoration soaking every step. “Lie back,” he whispered hot in your ear. His stomach flipped, realising as you reclined against the furs that he hadn’t been this nervous since the very first time. Or perhaps, even then. The god watched your eyes widen with excitement as he nudged your legs further apart with his knees. With aching intensity, he mapped each spark in your eyes as he dragged his cock along your soaking slit from root to tip. It nudged, gently.
“Loki," you gasped quietly, arching your back in frustration. He smiled, trying to remain serious. “What, my love?” he heard himself tease, inhaling against your neck with a shameless moan. Like pollen on a breeze, he felt your words soak through his skin. Through his soul. I need you. And, Loki thought, she means it.
He wondered if anyone else ever truly had.
The god raised his head, cursing the dark curls which fell forward from his braids against your face, obscuring the view. Your fingers combed past his shoulders, pushing the veil back. “There you are,” you whispered with a smile. He felt himself nod once, stare boring into your own. You nodded back, squeezing your knees against his trunk in encouragement.
Gasps filled the space between you as he eased the heavy tip of his manhood inside your channel. Inside the very essence of you that he had longed for. Every inch was a simmering feast of pleasure, the denial of centuries building to a single, strangled gasp of your name. Loki felt his brows slant, the sight of you beneath him almost more than he could bear. Careless lust rose in waves, firing through his bloodstream as he filled you to the hilt. Careful, he chided himself. Slowly. Every inch of your pussy was perfection, as he knew it would be. Every vein and ridge of his cock dragged tight against your flawless heat. A man could lose himself for eternity inside this pleasure if he wasn’t careful, each pull of your tight slippery cunt against his foreskin making him ascend. And not just a man, he thought through the drunken haze, a god. He choked with a rasping groan, letting his head fall into the curve of your neck. Loki began to pant as words of devotion licked the air like flames, your fingers trailing over the weaving curves of his ceremonial braids. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered wet in his ear, “not tonight.” Loki pulled his head back, a strand of saliva dangling from his lip as his brow furrowed. There was a new light in your eyes, something dark and hungry. Something familiar. Something him.
He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Wife,” he gasped through breathy pants and shallow thrusts, “are you asking me to-” “-fill me,” you groaned, an impish smile tugging your dimples, "heirs, remember?" Loki’s eyes rolled back as you bucked your hips up, thudding your pelvic bones together. The snug warmth of your pussy was unbearable.
The prince remembered the way you had come undone beneath his mouth earlier this evening in the palace baths. The way that your fresh cum had flooded his outstretched tongue. He felt his thighs tense. His balls, tight. “My love, I-” he gasped, feeling you tug a clutch of his hair. Loki hissed, his jaw set. “I’m trying to be romantic,” he spat, yanking his head away like a child. He stared down with fiery determination, the flash in his eyes punctuated with a punishing thrust of his hips. You moaned approvingly below him, a teasing grin stretching across your face. Loki’s heart melted. My wife, he thought lovingly; before slamming his cock deeper with a squelch. He felt the scratch of your fingernails over thick shoulder muscle, the tightening of your thighs making him judder. “We have our whole lives for romance, Loki,” you cooed, the syllables staggered between each slap of his hips, “tonight I...uhhh- just want you to f-fuck me, f-finally.”
The god released the growl that had been marinating in his throat, stretching a hand above your head. He gripped a clutch of furs tight in a fist. “I fucking love you,” he rasped, beginning to roll his hips in targeted, deep thrusts. “I- oh g-god, fucking lo-love you, my p-prince” you whined, catching his mouth in a messy kiss.
Loki pulled away from you, shaking his head with a broken sigh. He could feel the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced building in his belly, your soft moans sending his soul to new planes. It was perfection, the two of you. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing ever should. “Not your prince-” he grunted, knuckles whitening against the furs as he spun out the feeling as long as it could last. Edging himself. “-husband,” -was the last word Loki heard before climax deafened him.
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