fat ghost. big, behemoth of a man, who works hard and eats well. one of the perks of being a high ranking officer, he doesn't worry about ever feeling the hunger that followed him since he was a wee boy, nowadays wolfing down anything and everything coming his way. he uses it to his advantage, his size alone enough to make some men falter, lose their footing and scream when they see the mask of their killer.
he's not self-conscious, doesn't care for shit like that, doesn't have the time. but then it starts - the wolf whistles and touching, hands patting his shoulder and gripping tight; the way johnny and you like to spar with ghost a bit too much, wanting to cop a feel. he should slap you both, bring you down to earth, and shut this behavior down, but it's less than likely when he realizes that he likes it. warmth spreading on his face, fingers trembling slightly whenever you come to close, eyes raking over his form without shame. soap is even worse, no amount of restraint visible in the way he ogles and flirts. the tension is too high, his body strung tight - waiting, for one of you to finally break and cave in.
it all comes to a head when he gets shot; nothing major, a mere scratch for him, but he's tired, and medical is the last place he wants to go to. doesn't even register when his feet take him to your room, johnny opening the door instead; shirt gone, clearly having come to you for the same reason, seeing as his body is covered in bandages and sutures. soap lets him in, without question, gaze similarly exhausted, but not lacking its usual fire. you take care of them, wrapping them up and offering tenderness these dogs don't truly deserve, but not shying away at all.
when you're done, it's almost natural the way they both drop to their knees. gotta return the favour, don't they?
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Guys, please relax. No need to call me slurs and get all that angry. You can disagree and discuss with me why you believe otherwise. I don’t think Jiro necessarily hates Zenji, but maybe they got into a fight and he couldn’t forgive him even after he died, who knows?
I shared my theory because I’d love to see what other people think, it’s my first time saying anything of the sort here. I really try my best to stay away from controversy, even in the memes I post. If you didn’t like what I said, and don’t wish to explain why, just scroll or block me. Let’s stay away from drama and keep this fandom peaceful.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Plans to finalise.
Decisions to make.
A realm that did not wait simply because she was tired.
Apollo, as always, disagrees.
What begins as an interruption becomes something else entirely when he drags her away from King’s Landing and onto sacred ground, where the weight of duty cannot follow quite so easily.
Because Valora does not know how to stop.
And Apollo has never been particularly patient when it comes to reminding her how.
Warnings
⚠️Explicit sexual content (18+)
⚠️Graphic sexual scenes
⚠️ Possessive/dominant behaviour
⚠️Intense physical intimacy
⚠️Rough sex
⚠️Praise & devotion themes
⚠️Implied marking/claiming dynamics
⚠️Overstimulation & loss of control themes
⚠️Emotional vulnerability post-intimacy
Valora’s chambers had settled into something close to stillness, broken only by the scratch of her quill against parchment.
Candles burned low around her desk, wax pooling at their bases, their light flickering over the spread of plans before her.
Maps.
Sketches.
Notes written, crossed out, rewritten again.
She leaned over the parchment, brow furrowed in concentration, one hand smudged faintly with ink as she adjusted the lines of a structure that refused to behave the way she wanted it to.
“The walls need to be wider…” she muttered to herself. “Or the support beams will…”
A breeze brushed across the back of her neck.
Valora stilled.
The windows were closed.
Slowly, she looked up.
Golden light spilled across the room before she even fully turned.
Apollo stood near the balcony doors like he had always been there.
Radiant, effortless, sunlight caught in human form even in the dead of night. His hair gleamed like molten gold, his presence filling the room with a warmth that had nothing to do with the candles.
He took one look at the desk.
At her.
At the mess of parchment surrounding her.
And his expression shifted.
“…No,” he said simply.
Valora blinked at him.
“No?” she repeated.
“No,” Apollo said again, walking forward and plucking the quill straight from her fingers.
“Hey…”
“You have been working for hours.”
“I have been working productively,” she corrected.
“You have been working stubbornly,” he countered.
Valora leaned back in her chair, unimpressed. “There is a difference.”
“There is not,” he said easily, already stacking her parchments into something resembling order.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not finished.”
Apollo glanced down at the plans briefly, then back at her.
“You will be,” he said, entirely unconcerned, “after you remember that you are, in fact, a person and not a machine built solely to fix the realm.”
Valora opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then tried again. “The orphanage…”
“Will still be there in the morning.”
“The funding…”
“Will not vanish overnight.”
“The design…”
“Will not collapse because you stepped away from it for a few hours.”
He stepped closer, placing both hands flat on the desk and leaning down just enough to catch her gaze fully.
“You,” he said more quietly, “are exhausted.”
Valora held his gaze for a long moment.
Then she sighed.
“…I was close,” she muttered, though there was no real heat behind it anymore.
Apollo’s expression softened immediately, the sharp edge of his interruption fading into something gentler.
“I know,” he said.
He reached out, brushing a stray strand of silver hair back from her face, his touch warm, grounding.
“And you will get there,” he added. “But not tonight.”
Valora looked at him, studying him now instead of arguing.
“…You came all this way just to stop me working?” she asked.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“No,” he said. “I came to steal you.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “Steal me.”
“Yes.”
“From my own chambers.”
“Yes.”
“How daring of you.”
“I am very bold.”
She huffed a quiet laugh despite herself.
Then she glanced once more at the desk.
At the plans.
At the work, she had been so determined to finish.
And for once…
She let it go.
“…Fine,” she said, pushing back from the chair.
“You’ll enjoy it” Apollo cut in easily before she could change her mind, already reaching for her hand.
The moment their fingers brushed…
The world shifted.
Warmth swallowed everything.
Light.
Sound.
The heavy air of King’s Landing vanished in an instant and was replaced with something entirely different.
Salt.
Soft wind.
The distant sound of waves against stone.
Valora blinked.
They stood on Delos.
Moonlight stretched across the island, silver and soft, the sky above them wide and endless, scattered with stars that seemed brighter here than anywhere else in the world.
The air was warmer, lighter.
Easier to breathe.
Valora exhaled slowly, her shoulders loosening without her even realizing it.
“…You play unfairly,” she murmured.
Apollo smiled slightly. “I have many advantages.”
She glanced around, taking in the quiet beauty of it.
“…You brought me here to rest,” she said.
“I brought you here,” he corrected, “because you forget how to.”
Valora gave him a look.
“…I do not forget.”
“You absolutely do.”
She huffed again, but there was no real argument in it this time.
Apollo turned, gesturing lightly toward the trees beyond.
“Come on.”
She followed.
The path was familiar beneath their feet, even if she could not have said why. The island felt like something remembered rather than discovered, like a place that had always existed somewhere just out of reach.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while.
No court.
No expectations.
No weight pressing down on her shoulders.
Just the sound of their footsteps and the quiet hum of the night.
Eventually, the trees opened.
And the lake came into view.
Still.
Clear.
Reflecting the stars above it like a perfect mirror.
Valora slowed slightly.
“…You planned this,” she said.
Apollo tilted his head. “I plan everything.”
“That explains a lot.”
He stepped closer to the water’s edge, glancing back at her.
“Are you coming,” he asked lightly, “or are you going to stand there and overthink it?”
Valora raised a brow.
She stepped forward and kicked off her shoes.
Apollo laughed softly as she moved past him, already pulling the pins from her hair and letting it fall loose down her back.
“You say that like it’s a flaw,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
“It is,” he replied. “But I am fond of it.”
She rolled her eyes.
Then stepped into the water.
It was cool, but not cold.
Just enough to make her inhale sharply before the tension in her body began to melt away.
Apollo followed a moment later, the water barely disturbing around him.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The water rippled around Valora’s waist, cool and silken against her skin, but the heat radiating from Apollo was a far more potent force.
He waded closer, the liquid parting effortlessly around his frame until he stood just before her. The distance between them vanished, swallowed by the lapping of the lake against the stone shore.
Apollo reached out, his hand surfacing from the water to cup her cheek. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, his touch impossibly gentle despite the power coiled in his frame.
He looked at her as if she were the only star in the sky that mattered, a worshipful intensity that never failed to undo her.
“Better?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her chest.
Valora leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as the last of the tension drained from her body. "Much," she admitted, the word barely a whisper against the night air.
The contrast of the cool water and the burning heat of his skin was intoxicating, a sensory dichotomy that grounded her firmly in the present moment.
She reached up, covering his hand with her own, and turned her head to press a kiss into his palm. It was a tender gesture, but the spark that ignited in his eyes at the contact promised that the night was far from over.
The atmosphere shifted, the air suddenly heavy with something thicker than just humidity. Apollo’s hand slid from her cheek down to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her wet hair as he pulled her closer.
Their bodies brushed beneath the surface, the water creating a frictionless glide between them that made every point of contact hyper-sensitive.
He didn't wait for permission, didn't ask for confirmation; he simply lowered his head, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and left her clinging to his shoulders to stay upright.
The kiss deepened rapidly, shedding all pretense of gentleness. Valora parted her lips with a soft gasp, granting him the access he demanded, and he took full advantage.
His tongue swept against hers, tasting, claiming, stoking a fire low in her belly that the lake water couldn't hope to quench.
Her hands roamed over the wet planes of his chest, feeling the heavy thrum of his heart beneath her fingertips, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.
The world narrowed down to the slick slide of skin against skin, the salt-scented breeze, and the overwhelming, golden presence of the god holding her as if she were his entire universe.
Apollo’s grip tightened on her hips, hauling her flush against him until there was no space left between their bodies, the water lapping at their chests.
The heat of him was scorching against the cool night air, a brand that seared straight through her skin to the marrow of her bones.
His hands roamed with a deliberate, possessive reverence, mapping the curve of her spine and the dip of her waist before sliding down to grip the backs of her thighs.
With a fluid, effortless motion that spoke of his divine strength, he lifted her, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist.
Valora didn’t hesitate, locking her ankles at the small of his back, the sudden shift in gravity making her gasp into his mouth as the water sloshed around them, disturbed by their frantic movement.
The friction of his wet clothes against her inner thighs was a maddening tease, a rough barrier that she suddenly needed gone.
Valora tugged at the laces of his breeches, her fingers slipping on the wet knots but driven by a desperate, clawing need.
Apollo groaned low in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated hunger that vibrated against her lips. He assisted her, his hand covering hers to speed the process, and when the fabric was finally pushed aside, the hard, heavy length of him sprang free, brushing against the slick heat of her core.
The contact was intense, a jolt of pleasure so sharp it made her head fall back, breaking the kiss as she arched her spine, offering herself up to him completely.
He didn’t make her wait. With a guttural sound that was half-prayer, half-curse, Apollo guided himself to her entrance and surged forward, burying himself deep inside her in one powerful stroke.
The sensation was overwhelming, a sudden, intense fullness that stole the breath from her lungs and forced a cry from her throat.
He stretched her perfectly, the angle allowing him to hit a place deep inside that made her toes curl. Apollo stilled for a fraction of a second, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes burning with a fierce, golden light as he let her adjust to the invasion.
Once he was sure she felt no discomfort, his control snapped. He withdrew almost entirely, only to slam back into her, setting a ruthless, driving rhythm that turned the water around them into a churning storm of waves and foam.
The lake around them transformed into a chaotic swirl of white foam and displaced energy, driven by the ferocity of Apollo’s movements.
Each thrust was a deliberate, powerful possession, claiming her body with a reverence that bordered on worship.
Valora clung to him, her fingernails digging into the golden skin of his shoulders, anchoring herself against the tidal wave of pleasure cresting within her.
The cool water did nothing to quell the feverish heat building between them; instead, the contrast seemed to amplify every sensation, making the friction of his body against hers feel incendiary.
She could feel the heavy thud of his heart against her chest, matching the frantic cadence of her own, a primal rhythm that drowned out the soft lapping of the shore and the rustle of the wind in the trees.
The scent of ozone and crushed jasmine bloomed in the air around them, the raw byproduct of a god’s power fraying at the edges as he lost himself in her.
He was burning, literally. The water steamed where it touched his skin, rising in thick, curling plumes of mist that enveloped them in a private, white-hot world.
He drove into her again, a deep, grinding thrust that forced a ragged sob from her throat. The sound seemed to snap something inside him.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated through her chest.
The authority in his tone was absolute, a compulsion she felt in her marrow as much as her mind. Valora forced her eyes open, her vision swimming with unshed tears of ecstasy, locking her gaze onto his.
His eyes were no longer merely the warm gold of the sun; they were blinding, eclipsing the stars above, burning with a terrifyingly beautiful intensity that stripped her bare.
He wasn't looking at her as a lover, or even as a partner; he was looking at her as a god looked at a creation he was determined to remake, to fill, to mark so irrevocably that the universe itself would know who she belonged to.
"I want you to feel everything," he rasped, his grip bruising on her hips as he pulled her down to meet each punishing thrust.
The water churned violently around them, slapping against the shore in time with their rhythm, but the chaos only grounded the moment, making the frantic slide of their bodies the only stable thing in existence. "Every inch. Every heartbeat. I want to ruin you."
The possessiveness in his voice washed over her, dark and addicting, stoking the fire low in her belly into an inferno.
She clung to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle of his back, her body arching instinctively to take him deeper.
"Apollo," she gasped, the sound breaking on a moan as he shifted his angle, hitting a spot that made white sparks explode behind her eyelids. "Please... I…"
The word dissolved into a sharp cry as he drove into her with a renewed, devastating force. The water around them had gone from a gentle lap to a frantic roil, steam rising in thick, opaque clouds that blanketed them in a private, sweltering world.
It wasn't just the heat of his body; it was the sheer, unfiltered power of the sun bleeding out of him, turning the lake into a tepid bath that mirrored the inferno building inside her veins.
"You what?" Apollo growled, the sound vibrating against her chest, resonating in the hollow of her bones.
He didn't slow down. If anything, the challenge in her voice, the breathless plea, only seemed to spur him on.
He gripped her thighs harder, his fingers digging in with a bruising pressure that grounded her even as the rest of the world spun away.
"I want..." Valora gasped, her head falling back, exposing the long, pale column of her throat to the night air.
She felt powerless, small in the best possible way, pinned against the relentless strength of him. "I want everything. Give me everything."
A guttural sound tore from his chest, part groan, part snarl, raw and untethered. He stopped holding back.
The rhythm he set became punishing, a relentless, driving force that claimed her with every stroke.
The water splashed violently around them, soaking their clothes, plastering her hair to her skin, but neither of them noticed.
The world had narrowed down to the friction of his body inside hers, the tight, hot slide that dragged a broken sob from her lips with every thrust.
She was dimly aware of the water steaming, the lake around them growing hot as if he were boiling it with sheer proximity, a tangible manifestation of the burning sun god losing control.
"You have everything," he gritted out, his voice rough, strained with the effort of his restraint, or the lack thereof.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there in a way that made her shiver violently.
"My strength. My worship. My ruin. Take it." His hips snapped forward, grinding deep, forcing a high, thin cry from her throat that she couldn't contain.
It was too much, the intensity of him overwhelming her senses, flooding her with a pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain.
She could feel the storm of his magic building, crackling in the air around them, raising the hair on her arms, making the very atmosphere hum with static.
He was pouring himself into her, leaving nothing behind, demanding that she do the same.
Her body tightened around him, an involuntary reaction to the overwhelming stimulation.
She could feel the coil in her belly winding tighter and tighter, a knot of pure heat that begged to be released.
The friction was exquisite, dragging against every sensitive nerve ending, pushing her higher and higher until she felt weightless, suspended in the golden haze of his aura.
"Apollo," she breathed, his name a prayer on her lips, a plea for mercy or for more, she wasn't sure which.
She could feel the rhythm faltering, his control splintering, the divine façade cracking to reveal something hungrier, something ancient and possessive that wanted to devour her whole.
He was close. She could feel it in the way his muscles bunched beneath her hands, in the way his breathing turned ragged and harsh against her skin.
And with that realisation came the thrilling certainty that she was going to fall apart with him.
Apollo’s rhythm faltered, the controlled precision shattering into a ragged, desperate cadence.
He withdrew almost entirely, the loss of his heat a sudden, chilling void, only to drive back in with a force that stole the air from her lungs and dragged a ragged scream from her throat.
The water around them erupted into a churning frenzy of steam and spray, boiling under the influence of his unchecked power, but he seemed oblivious to anything except the place where their bodies joined.
His eyes burned into hers, wild and unrecognizable, the golden irises swallowed by the deep, expanding black of his pupils as the last of his restraint evaporated.
He wasn't just taking pleasure; he was demanding it, seizing it with a ferocity that terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.
"Take it," he snarled, his voice cracking on a groan that sounded more like a roar than human speech.
"Take all of me. Let me fill you until you can't hold anymore, until there's no part of you that hasn't been touched by me." The words were a dark, possessive litany, a vow spoken, and they hit Valora with the force of a physical blow.
She could feel him swelling inside her, the thick, hard length of him pulsing with a heat that seemed to burn straight through her core.
The friction was relentless, dragging against every sensitive nerve ending, pushing her higher and higher until she felt weightless, suspended in a golden haze of pure sensation.
Her body was no longer her own; it was a canvas for his desire, and the surrender was absolute.
The coil in her belly snapped. Her orgasm tore through her with the violence of a tidal wave, crashing over her senses and shattering her vision into white.
She cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood, her body arching violently against his as the pleasure ripped a confession from her lips she didn't know she was holding.
"Yes…Apollo, please!!" The words hung in the steam-filled air, raw and desperate, a plea for everything he had offered and more.
It was the final spark in a powder keg. With a hoarse shout that sounded like the sun exploding, Apollo buried himself to the hilt and held her there, his hips jerking erratically as he found his own release.
He flooded her, a scorching torrent of heat that marked her from the inside out, fulfilling the primal promise he had whispered in the dark.
He held her through the aftershocks, his face buried in her neck, his body shuddering with the force of his release, until the only sound in the world was their ragged breathing and the gentle lap of the water against the shore, the storm finally giving way to peace.
For a long moment, the only sound in the world was the ragged cadence of their breathing and the gentle, rhythmic lapping of the water against the shore.
The steam that had engulfed them began to dissipate, drifting in lazy tendrils toward the starlit sky, carrying with it the scent of ozone and heated skin.
Valora remained locked around him, her body twitching with the occasional aftershock, her forehead resting heavily against his shoulder.
She felt drained, hollowed out in the most exquisite way possible, as if he had reached inside her chest and carefully rearranged the pieces of her soul until they fit together better than they had before.
Apollo held her with a grip that was still slightly too tight, his face buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as if to ground himself back in reality.
The frantic, desperate energy of their coupling had faded into a heavy, sated contentment that felt vast and impenetrable.
Slowly, carefully, Apollo lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were still glowing with that faint, luminescent warmth, though the ferocity had softened into something infinitely tender.
He reached up, brushing a damp strand of silver hair away from her cheek with a thumb that trembled ever so slightly.
"You are magnificent," he murmured, his voice rough with use but thick with a reverence that made her chest ache.
He didn't set her down immediately. Instead, he held her there, waist-deep in the cooling water, cradling her against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in existence.
The possessiveness hadn't vanished; it had simply settled into something deeper, a steady, burning assurance that radiated from his skin.
He studied her face, his gaze tracing the line of her jaw, her kiss-swollen lips, the flush that still painted her pale skin, memorising the aftermath of his devotion.
"I meant what I said," he added quietly, a fierce intensity returning to his tone. "Everything. I want to give you everything."
Valora smiled as she lead in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
