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throughparisallthroughrome · 7 months ago

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The Sun and His Star

The Result of This Poll

Pairing: greek god!anakin x female reader

Description: Unable to resist a friendly wager, Anakin finds himself in a world of trouble as he seeks out a Naiad he has fallen deeply in love with.

Warnings: f!reader, swearing, angst, unrequited love, mentions of death, mentions of worship, alcohol, SMUT, fingering, oral sex (f recieving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, degradation, literal pussy worship, loss of virginity, corruption kink, crying, size kink, soft dom!anakin, praise kink, orgasm denial, MDNI 18+++

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: I have been SO excited to post this. This is also my first time writing actual smut and i'm pretty nervous about posting this! This is very loosely based of the myth of Apollo and Daphne, except that myth is pretty creepy and Daphne turns into a tree at the end of it so I wanted something a little more happy. Thank you guys for participating in my poll! I really hope you enjoy. As always, my requests and inbox are open!

masterlist.

Thwap!

Almost.

As Anakin's fingers trace the intricate details of his golden bow, his focused eyes never leave the target, anticipating a shot that he thinks to be perfect. Squinting his eyes, he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. His mind ran through different calculations at a million miles a minute. Perks of being a God, I suppose.

He shook his head in frustration, allowing the bow to slip from his hand and rest beside his belongings as he sought reassurance from the comforting embrace of the ancient fig tree. Although he had the entirety of Olympus to practice, Anakin always chose the hills and forests of Macedonia, knowing the only thing he could possibly run into was a bear. And running into bears was fun for the Sun God, as archery usually is. How is the God of archery missing his shots? Anakin was lost, although he’d never admit it.

His slender fingers traced the grass, memorizing each blade's touch as he became increasingly fascinated with the Greek world. He brushed back his chestnut locks with his free hand, letting his eyes close as he breathed in the mortal air surrounding him. Greece was better than Olympus; it was his missing piece.

Things hadn’t been the same lately. Worshippers had died down at Delphi, and his typical “appear in their dreams nightmare route” wasn’t going so smoothly either. And now he’s struggling to make a shot? Could he even call himself a God, much less his father’s favorite?

Annoyed with his thoughts, Anakin summoned a fig to his hand, biting deeply into it- just for the taste. He chewed slowly, letting the juices run from his lips, down his chin, and onto his golden armor. And that was another amazing thing the Greek world had- fucking figs.

“Why so down, my friend?” Anakin’s eyes shot open out of his trance to meet his favorite rival, Obi-Wan Kenobi, God of Passion. Anakin’s fingers swiftly moved the arrow off the target behind him, not wanting Kenobi to catch his failure.

“How did you find me?” He stood up abruptly, dropping the fig onto the grass he was tracing before. His fists balled at his sides. Typically, they got along pretty okay, but with Anakin’s meandering mind, he was the last God he needed to see.

“Oh, you know, I just followed the foul stench of arrogance and failure into the Greek world. By the way, how would Zeus react if you were practicing down here, hm? Letting your talents go to waste, and possibly seen by mortals, not to mention-”

“Alright, Obi-Wan, I get it. You’ve made your point. What do you want?” Anakin watches as Obi-Wan’s smile grows before him, and a sinking feeling fills his chest.

“You don’t need to hide your failure from me, Anakin.” Obi-Wan lips turn into a smirk, watching as Anakin’s temper began to get the best of him once again.

“Obi-Wan, I’d be careful. I am Anakin, God of the sun, The All-father’s first-born son, and I will kick your ass all the way back to Olympus any fucking day. Try me. If I were you, I’d choose your next words carefully.” Anakin towers over Obi-Wan, his remarks laced with venom as he observes the smile grow on the God before him.

“I heard your worshippers are waning at Delphi. And now you’re missing your shots… Gods, Anakin, are you no longer Zeus’s favorite? What is going on with you?”

With Obi-Wan suggesting Anakin’s worst nightmare, Anakin had him up against the fig tree in seconds, his hands pulling up at his toga as rage coursed through his golden blood. His eyes searched Kenobi’s, watching the amusement dance within them. What was his game? What could he possibly want?

“Watch your fucking mouth, Kenobi. I’ll send your ass right down to Hades, and Zeus will not come to your aid again. There’s a reason I’m more powerful than you. What the fuck do you need love for when you can be God of the Sun? Zeus’s favored son? Huh? There’s a fucking reason I am celebrated more than you are. I don’t see your temples taking over the Greek world. I don’t see you massively worshipped-”

“Oh please, Anakin, they worship Ahsoka as much as they worship you. She’s your twin sister and equally on par with you despite being a goddess.” Anakin pulls a fist back and sends it flying into Kenobi’s jaw, watching as his golden blood pours from his nose and down his chin. Anakin grinned.

“Fucking watch it. That was the last comment you’re going to be making in a long, long time.” As Anakin pulls back his fist, Obi-Wan’s hands go up in defeat, signaling the white flag Anakin is looking for.

“How do you feel about a little wager?” He whispers, a hint of fear present in his voice as he watches Anakin’s golden eyes narrow at his proposition.

“And why the fuck would I do that, Kenobi, when sending you to Hades is just as easy?”

“Because I know you can’t resist a chance to prove yourself to be better than me.”

“Okay,” Anakin loosens his grip on Kenobi, letting him fall against the fig tree as he backs up and crosses his arms, “And what would this wager consist of? And make it quick- before I change my mind and punish you regardless.”

“Best of 3 shots. If you win, you can punish me as you deem necessary. If I win, well, how about we keep your punishment a surprise?” Obi-Wan pushes himself off the tree, summoning his bow and arrow in his hands as Anakin bites his lip skeptically.

“That’s too- No- what’s the catch?”

“If I win, you have to fall in love- no exceptions.”

“That’s it? Deal. This is too fucking easy.” Anakin shakes his head, picking up his golden bow and tracing the olive branch details on the upper limb.

“May Zeus be on your side, Anakin.” Kenobi holds out his hand for Anakin to shake, sealing their wager.

Anakin takes his hand, his grip firm, letting the eyes of his father, high up in Olympus, confirm the bet.

“You first, Obi-Wan.” Anakin chuckles, picking up an arrow and sharpening the end of it while Obi-Wan takes his stance in front of the tree, his shoulders relaxed, and eyes focused on the target in front of him.

Instant bullseye. Lucky shot.

Anakin says nothing, instead taking his place and shooting without hesitation.

Another instant bullseye. This was going to be closer than he thought.

Anakin’s eyes squint as he watches Kenobi make another bullseye. It’s now 2-1. Since when did Kenobi get so good at archery? Anakin shoots another bullseye, but it’s close, too close. He watches as Kenobi’s brows furrow slightly, his frustration growing alongside Anakin’s arrogance. Did he really think the God of archery would lose a challenge as simple as this?

Obi-Wan shoots his final shot.

Instant Bullseye. Fuck.

He turns around, placing his bow on his back and grinning at the angry God before him.

“May Zeus be on your side, old friend.” He repeats that phrase, eager to remind Anakin what was at stake. As he approaches Anakin to shake his hand, he grins as Anakin dodges it and steps up to the mark.

“Save it, Kenobi. I’m too excited to hear what Hades will do with you after this.”

As Anakin grips his bow, his hands are filled with sudden apprehension. He missed the shot just before Kenobi got here, and his last two were practically just luck, and- Actually, what the fuck is he even on about? He’s the God of archery, for fucks sake. Some measly love God wasn’t going to take this easy victory from him. No way. Anakin pulled an arrow from the sling on his back, letting it sit comfortably between his fingers as he lined up his shot. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let his fingers do the work.

And with one swift motion of Obi-Wan’s wrist from behind him, Anakin tripped over a rock.

Miss.

“Wha- I- How? What the fuck did you do?” Anakin turned around, storming over to Kenobi who had his hands innocently raised in the air as he backed away from the angry God once again.

“I did nothing, Anakin. You lost, plain and simple.” Before Anakin had time to react, Obi-Wan’s bow was out again, this time with a red-tipped arrow.

The arrow slipped between Kenobi’s fingers, flying across the grass and into Anakin’s shoulder. He gasped, not in pain, but at the audacity of the God before him.

“Kenobi, this better not be one of your special arrows, or I swear to Zeus-” He grips the arrows, pulling it out of his skin, letting his golden blood drip onto his armor.

“Her name is Y/N. You can find her along the River Lamos. Good luck, old friend.”

And with that, he was gone.

—------------------------------

“Padme! These fucking mortals are pissing in the water again! I mean, how do they even find us out here? This is the furthest north they’ve gone in quite some time.” You let your knees hit the grass, running your fingers through the stream to purify the waters.

Sometimes, you quite hated being a Naiad. It had the perks of a goddess, but not quite the status. And Zeus forbid you ever tried to compare yourselves to a Goddess…

“Y/N, honey, have you ever tried to talk to a mortal? They aren’t the brightest. It’s not their fault Zeus made them that way.” Padme emerges from the waterfall behind you, offering her condolences as she places her hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe we should pray to Ahsoka and have her punish them.”

“Y/N! Don’t be harsh.” Padme’s jaw drops in fake shock, rolling her eyes as she joins you along the riverbed. “Besides, I heard Dionysis is throwing another rager tonight. Let’s focus on that.”

“Yeah, sure,” you mumble, picking up a rock and skipping across the water, avoiding the lilies that littered the surrounding stream.

Padme had always grounded you. You’d probably be lost without her. When you escaped your father as a child, Padme stuck by you in your request for freedom. Your new life, though promising, never quite managed to fill the void that had been there all along. As a Naiad, you felt the weight of responsibility for the ancient world, but the path laid before you was far from what you imagined. Your life was filled with adoration from cult leaders, lavish ceremonies, and the occasional taste of royalty on Mount Olympus - but an emptiness lingered within you. Something that trivial worship and sacrifice wouldn’t fulfill.

“Padme,” you pulled your hand from the water, picking a dandelion next to you and observing it. “Do you ever think about what our life would have been like if we never left Father?” She sighs.

“Y/N, if you’re questioning our decision, let me assure you, we made the right choice. To disobey the calling of such passion… well, I’d rather not debate it. Have honor in what we do, Y/N. We are irreplaceable.” Padme smiles gently at you, the sun bouncing off her chocolate eyes in a particularly irresistible way.

A forced grin stretched across your face, a desperate attempt to conceal your disdain for her reply. Padme had a knack for finding the silver lining - always seeing the good in people and situations, even when things seemed bleak. But it didn’t make the feeling disappear from within you. Every day was the same. The same taking care of the rivers and the forests. The same cults and sacrifices and worships and prayers and celebrations. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, but the truth was undeniable: you felt utterly lonely. You had Padme, but she was your sister, and she was supposed to be there. But as much as it ached you to say… You wanted a lover.

As a devotee of Ahsoka, the Goddess of the Hunt, you pledged your loyalty to her with a sacred vow. To remain pure. Sure, it was silly and not very feminist-positive of Ahsoka, but she was an Olympian. The Olympians were traditional in their ways. And that was something you had to deal with. Or workaround. Ahsoka was stubborn, much like her younger twin brother Anakin, but even though she was a woman, she was treated with the utmost respect and equality. You found yourself constantly drawn to her, admiring her strength and resilience. Every opportunity you had, you would go to her temples, offering your devotion and respect with each visit.

Snap.

Your heads snapped around in unison, your hearts pounding, as you braced for the appearance of an unfortunate mortal who had unknowingly interrupted you. However, standing behind you, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun, was none other than the Sun God himself, Anakin.

“Anakin! Your majesty, to what honor do we have to be graced with your presence?” Padme’s words were honey to your ears, and she quickly pulled you down into a curtesy next to you.

“I came for a Naiad by the name of Y/N.” Your heart dropped. Fuck. “I wish to seek her hand.” Padme turned to you, her eyes wide along with your slacked jaw. What the fuck was happening?

The first thing you noticed was his smile. A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face, the kind that made his whole body seem to radiate arrogance. Sure, he was attractive; he was an Olympian, after all, but there was something about him you couldn’t stand. There was no mistaking the pretentiousness. You had pictured him with golden hair, but his hair was a surprising chestnut brown, the curls soft and unruly, framing his face like a halo of warm sunlight. The intricate details of his armor were impressive, reminding you of his sister’s. And when your eyes met his, you saw that same hollow emptiness in his gaze, reflecting the void you carried within. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ruin it by opening his mouth.

“Go!” Padme whisper-shouted next to you, pushing you forward.

“Your majesty,” You cringed at your words.

“Anakin.” He mused, his smirk growing as his eyes lingered on your form. Your wet dress suddenly felt a lot wetter tighter.

“Anakin,” You faked a smile, purely out of fear of what you’d do next. “As much as I am flattered by your offer, I made a sacred vow to your sister that I plan to uphold. I do apologize. I am honored to be considered by you.” He nodded slowly, his smile widening and his eyes holding something mischievous within them.

“You know, Nymph,��

“Naiad- I mean, Y/N.” You stuttered. Padme’s eyes widen as she stomps your foot to shut you up.

“Y/N,” he winks and leans closer, his breath hot on your cold, wet cheek as his mouth is centimeters from your ear. “Normally, I would take what is mine. But you are lucky to be in favor with my sister, and that I love a good challenge. We will see just how much longer you will remain pure, my muse. You are the most beautiful creature I’ve had the privilege of laying my immortal eyes on, and I plan to have you.”

You freeze. A challenge? Who the hell did he think he was?

But before you had time to say anything else stupid, he was gone.

“Are you fucking CRAZY?” Padme grabs you, shaking your body, “You just rejected THE Anakin. Ahsoka’s brother. That’s, like, probably, the only pass you’d ever get not to remain pure. You should have taken it! And Y/N, you cannot speak to him like that! You’re lucky he didn’t just take you with him as prisoner or send you to Hades-”

“Padme! Come on, you heard him. He likes a challenge. It’s obvious that this is far from over.” You trailed off, your mind uneasy at the thought.

Realistically, you had to weigh the pros and cons.

Pros: He was hot. It would give you a higher status. You could have a family. You could be closer with Ahsoka. It would fill the void within you. He could possibly be a good person, maybe even a good lover. He could be the best sex you’d ever had.

Cons: It was Anakin. He’s arrogant and everything you could dislike in a lover. He could potentially ruin your relationship with Ahsoka and create an eternal enemy that would end your life as you know it. He could ruin your life. He could be the best sex you’d ever had.

Fuckkkkkkkkk.

Week after week, Anakin shows unwavering resolve in his pursuits.

The first week, he’d occasionally drop by, leaving nothing but wine and flowers and his sweet, sweet words.

“I’d do anything to make you mine, Y/N. Just one chance.”

“Please, you’re the love of my immortal life. I want nothing but to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

“I can’t get enough of watching you. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Let me be yours, please. I’m so in love with you. It’s killing me.”

Eventually, you began to play along. You loved how his eyes would light up when you gave him hope, but the return of his arrogant smile when you turned him down again made you roll your eyes.

The admission, though loathsome, was undeniable: you were falling for him. You gotta give it to him- consistency was key. But did the cons outweigh the pros? The situation was tricky, and not ideal. If only he were a dumb mortal and not Zeus’s favorite son. And not the brother of a God you’ve spent your entire life worshipping and having a precious oath, too. If only.

The second week saw the gifts become more intense, each one a thrilling surprise. He brought you a beautiful cat, along with some flowers from Olympus to plant near the river. The gesture was sweet, the cat was cute, and the flowers were divine, literally. Although you were tempted, you held your ground, and your answer was a firm, unwavering no.

Anakin's patience was wearing thin by week three, his annoyance growing with each passing day. He thought he had given you everything you could have desired as a river nymph, showering you with gifts that would make any naiad happy. As someone he hoped to share his life with, he offered his heart and devotion. Even though he tried, you were still refusing his advances. He didn’t take you as one for material goods, but who was he to judge? So, he began leaving you jewelry that was unlike anything you'd ever seen, intricate pieces that captured the essence of nature and water in every detail. And, of course, they were all gold. The necklace he had given you was his favorite, a simple gold sun pendant suspended on a chain, worn close to your heart.

“Do you like it, my love?” Anakin held the necklace in your hands, watching your smile grow beneath him.

“Anakin- I- It’s beautiful. I love it. I’ve never owned anything quite like this before.” You smiled up at him, the sunlight reflecting in your eyes in such a way that he’d drown if he looked for too long.

“Would you like me to put it on you?” He whispered, his eyes trailing from your own down to your lips.

“Yes,” You whispered back, allowing him to turn you around and move your hair.

His fingers moved slowly across the back of your neck, their light touch sending shivers down your arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck, and much to your own surprise, you let out a soft moan against his touch. His presence behind you was heavy with insolence, and even though you couldn't see him, you could practically feel his smug grin on the back of your head. He laid the necklace against your chest, and you instinctively reached your hand up to touch it, only to be met with his own as he pulled you closer.

“Y/N,” He groaned softly, resting his forehead upon your shoulder, “Please. I’m in agony.” You hummed against him, leaning back onto his chest as the sunlight washed over your wet skin.

“Ani, I can’t. You know this, baby.” You turned around to face him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for the necklace- I really love it. You’ve been so kind to me.”

He smiled back at you and was gone once again.

During week four, his presence dwindled. He came only a couple of days, mostly just to bring you offerings. This time, he started leaving little love notes instead of his usual visits you had become accustomed to.

My muse,

Every day I do not spend with you is tortuous. You are everything to me. You are the air I breathe, the Sun I worship, the light bringer of my life. I did not know love could be so powerful, so intoxicating, just like you. To me, you are love. You are the physical representation of everything I have ever wanted from this life. I’d give it all up for you. Olympus doesn’t matter if it means I could have you. And if it’s my sister you are worried about, I would have it handled. I would keep you safe and spend the rest of eternity loving you, worshipping you, and making you happy and fulfilled. Please just give me a chance, darling; that is all I ask. I feel ashamed for not coming to see you in person, but I couldn’t bear to look at you. It has only brought me pain and suffering as of late. I know it is not your fault, but you are all I want. I’m not giving up on you yet, but I feel as if maybe some distance would help you. Perhaps I’ve come on too strongly. Too confident. And if it means changing who I am to have you, consider it done.

With love for eternity,

Your Anakin.

As you held the letter in your hands, you barely noticed how your hands shook, and your body trembled. You didn’t see how you instinctively brought the letter to your heart, holding it close as stray tears cascaded down your face. And you certainly didn’t notice Padme’s presence; her soft touch was comforting on your arm as she appeared behind you.

“Honey, you should give him a chance. He’s really trying. I don’t know what that letter says, but for it to evoke that reaction from you, it must be genuine. Unless he plans to kill me or our father, then maybe not so-”

The hug you gave her was warm and tight, a genuine embrace she hadn't felt from you in years. She held you close, the heat from the sun radiating off of the both of you and sending you into more of a frenzy than ever. Even though you couldn't see him, you knew Anakin was watching, and the feeling of his intensity was a constant presence. You felt a strange indifference, a lack of concern that surprised even you. But you just wanted to feel.

By week five, Anakin had stopped appearing altogether, but his presence was still there. Maybe it was when you healed the water, or took care of the plants, or gave an offering to Ahsoka, but it always felt like he was standing right there next to you, offering a helpful hand in your tasks. It seemed that he was beginning to fill that void inside of you. And as much as you desperately wanted that, now that you were so close to having it, the idea terrified you.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” You quietly asked as Padme lit a candle, preparing for another ritual.

“Would you grab the wine and pour the libation, Y/N? I’m afraid we must move on with this for right now.” She smiled gently, attempting to lighten your mood. It didn’t work. The last thing you wanted to do was worship his sister.

As much as you hated it, you did as you were told. You headed further into the cave you and Padme made into the oasis you called home. As you turned the corner into your private quarters, you noticed the wine stacked by your “bed.”

As you and Padme ventured out and stumbled upon your own Oasis, you both set out to personalize it, infusing it with your own unique touch, making it a place you could truly call your own. The cave behind the waterfall was a breathtaking sight - lush green plants carpeted the floor around the river, colorful creatures flitted through the air, and the soft glow of candles danced off the shimmering crystals. The river ran through the cave, a constant source of fresh water, offering a home for you and your sister amidst the silent stone. It was everything you had ever dreamed of. But, as sisters, you both still needed your privacy, so it was made sure that you both had your own private sectors of the cave. Your quarters were filled with treasures you collected from the forest - musical instruments, shiny jewelry, beautiful dresses, furniture in both perfect and broken states, and writing tools. You even brought back random knick-knacks that you saw potential in. One mortal's trash is another Naiad’s treasure.

The sight of the wine on the stool made your stomach churn, as you thought about the God who had given it to you. Would it be weird to worship Ahsoka with the wine her brother declared his love to you over? Probably. You weren’t willing to risk it. Your fingers danced across the cool glass of the bottle, remembering the warmth of his hands as he placed it in yours. Honestly, what was wrong with you? This was wrong. You knew that. You couldn’t possibly love Anakin. And he couldn’t possibly love you. Anakin could have any woman, goddess, nymph, and mortal alike, so why would he choose you out of everyone?

Against all odds, he did. And he kept doing it. His absence had sparked a flicker of doubt within you. And as hard as it was to admit, you missed him.

—----------------------

“Obi-Wan, I cannot do this any longer. She doesn’t love me. Please, take my misery away from me.”

Anakin wasn’t himself. Obi-Wan could see that. Even though it seemed impossible for an immortal being to have bags under his eyes, Anakin somehow managed it. He looked rough. He looked sad. And Obi-Wan genuinely felt for him.

“Tell me more,” Obi-Wan leans back against his chair, stroking his beard as he watched the God fall apart in front of him.

“It seems that nothing has worked. I’ve tried to win her over with lavish gifts, these grand gestures of love. I’ve written her letters, given her space, and told her how I felt- how much I loved her. It-It’s not enough. She doesn’t want me. In all of my years as a God, I have finally found a worthy opponent. And this is a battle I will not win. It is a battle I will never win. I have finally been defeated. Y/N has taken my heart, and I will let her do it a thousand times more for the eternity that we live. My heart belongs to her and her only. She has filled a void within me that I never thought would disappear.” Anakin sits down in the chair beside Obi-Wan, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up to look at the man beside him, and Obi-Wan instantly freezes.

Anakin was crying. The Anakin. Was. Crying. He had never been so deeply affected by anyone before, and the weight of his newfound emotions pressed down on him heavily. Obi-Wan felt a pang of guilt, realizing that his attempt to teach Anakin a lesson had inadvertently caused him immense pain.

But Anakin passed Obi-Wan’s test with flying colors. The deal was that you couldn’t truly fall for Anakin until he finally let go of his pride and broke down the defenses he'd spent years erecting. Only once you have allowed him to be vulnerable and show his authentic self, could you begin to love him back. To see him for what he truly was, yes, he was a god, but he was still a man. A man who had fallen deeply in love with you. A man who was heartbroken, and finally admitted defeat. He had met his match.

“I think you should visit her one last time, Anakin. Maybe say your goodbyes. I’m very sorry I put you through this, old friend.” Obi-Wan flashed him a small smile, earning a nod in response.

“Actually, no need to apologize. You’ve taught me a valuable lesson. For years, I thought that I could never be beaten, and that I was better than anyone, and now I see that even I have challenges I cannot overcome. I have been arrogant. Selfish. And I am truly sorry. Now that I have felt true pain, I cannot imagine the suffering I have caused. I will visit her one last time. She needs to know how she has changed me.”

—-------------------------

The pre-dawn darkness had settled in when Padme left for the meeting on Mount Olympus, the air heavy with anticipation and the rustle of the wind through the trees. What it concerned, you had no idea. But she was always into politics like that, and you respected her for it. She was driven, and despite only being a Naiad, she made sure that her voice was heard and that she spoke for those around her.

You sat along the riverbed, the gentle sound of the water rippling over stones a constant companion, watching as the morning sun rising reflected off of the water and the lilies that lined your stream. The Greek world was so beautiful, and you were so glad that you were able to experience it. You watched the frogs, green and plump, hop from pad to pad, their croaks blending with the splash of the fish swimming in synchronized schools, their scales glinting like silver coins. It was peaceful, and you were thankful for it.

Before you could think about him, you felt him.

“Anakin,” You whispered, feeling his presence behind you. Your eyes began to feel heavy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I am here to say goodbye, my love.” He mumbled from behind you, not daring to move an inch.

“Would you sit with me?” you mumbled, keeping your gaze on the lilies, scared to show your solemn face. He slowly sat next to you, with more space between you than you would have liked.

‘I’m sor-”

“Anakin, I have fallen for you. You have won me over. But, I must admit, I am apprehensive because my loyalty lies with your sister, and I do not want my life to be ruined. I’ve heard too many stories of nymphs falling for a God and being destroyed in the process. I cannot give up my life up like that, and I will not. So, if you truly love me as you say, I need to to swear to me and your father that you will love me and only me for eternity, that you will never abandon me, and that you will give me the family and life that I deserve.” You finally turn your head to face him, your eyes welled with tears as he gazed upon your face, memorizing your features.

“Y/N, I swear upon every God, Goddess, Nymph, Demi-God, and whatever else out there that I will love you for eternity. That you will always have me. And I will continue to show my love, be there for you, and treat you as you deserve. You are priceless and my life as a God means nothing without you.”

You didn’t give him a response, no, he finally deserved a kiss. The one he had been waiting so patiently for.

You pressed your lips fervently against his, eagerly exploring his mouth with your tongue, while your hands became entwined in his hair. Letting out a gentle moan, he deepened the kiss, reveling in the sensation that he never wanted to end. He tasted like figs, sweet and savory, a flavor you could taste for eternity. His tongue eagerly explored yours, a silent struggle for control as he sought to please you. His hand grazed your cheek, holding you against him as if you were a second away from disappearing.

His touch traveled down your neck, finally arriving at your damp, clothed chest, where he tenderly held your breasts, his thumb moving in circular motions on your nipple. Now, it was your turn to moan.

“Baby,” He broke the kiss, holding your forehead against his as you both attempted to catch your breath. You were apprehensive. You had never done this before, and Anakin was intimidating. “Hey, look at me. It’s just me. Let me take care of you- make you feel good. Does that sound okay?”

You looked up to meet his blue eyes, his blown pupils staring into your soul, overflowing with adoration. You nodded slowly in response, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Can I hear you say it, darling?” He whispered against your lips as he peppered small kisses on your cheek and down your chin, reaching your neck. His kisses seared your skin like the sun, feeling warm and holy.

“Anakin, I need you to make me feel good. Please.” You whimpered under his touch, the warmth in between your legs growing wetter by the second. The desperation gnawed at you, a constant hunger that wouldn't be satisfied. You needed Anakin to take what was his- immediately.

He falls on top of you, his weight a welcome force as you pull him down. His kisses rain down on your neck, hot and needy, while his fingers trace the curves of your body, each touch a possessive claim. He presses himself into you ever so slightly, and you moan at the sensation between your legs.

His hand finds its way down your hips, inching closer and closer towards where you really needed it. With a mischievous grin, he carefully pulls up your wet lace dress before planting another sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat as his fingers slowly dance up your legs. His hand snakes up your thighs, rubbing them and pinching them as he continues to control your kiss, his tongue deliberate and delicate against yours. His hand slips under your top and then under the neckline of your dress, teasingly massaging your breasts and nipples. It was an overwhelming feeling, and his bulge growing between your legs didn’t help at all.

Anakin pauses, and you sense a shift in the air, a prickling sensation that raises goosebumps on your arms. You’d never been this close to anyone before. You’ve never let someone touch you in a spot so sacred, so holy. Letting Anakin feel this part of you, touch every inch of your body, it was a new ritual on its own. One you weren’t familiar with. But as a Naiad, you had a duty to uphold. You needed to worship.

‘Do you trust me?” He whispers against your lips, pulling you out of your moment of ecstasy.

“Yes.”

“I will take such good care of you. I’m going to make you feel so good, my love. It may hurt at first, but I need you to trust me. Do you want me to touch you, angel?” You nodded in response, letting out a giggle and soft smile at his sweet words.

“Of course, Ani. Please.” You practically whimpered, watching as his smile grew into the familiar, arrogant one you had met all those weeks ago.

Anakin's hand slowly moves up to your throbbing clit, his fingers gently exploring your wetness, teasing a response from you. He had you completely under his control. It was a foreign feeling, the way he touched you, and yet all you could do was subconsciously push yourself against his fingers, begging for more. Anakin was eager to memorize you. The things that made you feel good, made you squirm, made you moan, and most importantly- made you cum.

“Such a needy thing, aren’t you? Just needed me to take care of you so bad. Needed me to take away that innocence and purity you held above my head for weeks.”

Before you could respond, his thumb aggressively pressed into your clit, rubbing soft circles that evoked noises from you that you didn’t know were possible. You push yourself into him further, laying your head upon his shoulder as you sit upright, suddenly overwhelmed by the pleasure he is giving you. A new fluttering sensation found itself below your stomach, feeling hotter and hotter by the second. The pressure keeps building, as Anakin picks up the pace, watching you with determined, golden eyes. You clutch his arm tighter, squeezing your eyes shut and letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ani- I-” You barely gasped out, the knot in your stomach tightening as you were getting closer and closer to coming undone. As he worked his thumb against your clit faster, he felt the way you grew wetter underneath his touch, the way your hips bucked against him, and the way your legs shook underneath him. He let it go straight to his ego and dick.

“Yeah, angel? You like that? You gonna cum for me now?” He smirks.

“Anakin, I-” Before you knew it, he pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them up against that sweet spot where you didn’t know you needed it most, sending you over the edge. You feel every inch of his fingers against your walls, feeling so stuffed to the brim you burst. Your body convulses beneath him, and his moans mix with yours, both overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm.

“That’s perfect, just like that baby. You’re doing so good, can’t wait until it’s my cock inside you, making you cum and moan like that. Look at how perfect you are. So fucking beautiful.” He mumbles into your ear as he continues to work his fingers faster through your orgasm, practically torturing you with his touch.

You called his name like a prayer, worshiping him as you would any other God. He gave you more than they ever could, and you couldn’t help but moan his name into a new hymn you’d gladly sing over and over again. When you finally come down, he removes his fingers and licks them slowly in front of you, showing how much he truly worships you.

“Fuck, I need to get a taste.” He aggressively pushes your body down against the grass, lifting your dress and pulling your hips against his face.

He licks a long stripe up the side of your thigh, relishing in how loud it’s already making you moan. You feel him smirk against you once again as he places a sloppy, wet kiss against your folds. He licks a stripe down your center, and you instantly get goosebumps as you whimper and whine underneath him. Anakin doesn’t care, no, Anakin wants to make sure you savor every touch, lick, and kiss he has to offer. He flicks his tongue against your clit, slow and deliberately, wanting to feel your reaction against his tongue. Once again, you only grew wetter and he only grew more famished. He finally starts at an increasingly slow pace as he laps against your folds, not giving it to you where you really need it.

To Anakin, licking your clit was the nourishment he didn’t realize he missed. He had never truly been satisfied until his tongue was in between your legs, slowly savoring every fold and taste, never wanting to leave.

“A-Ani, please, I-I need it!” He pauses.

“You don’t know what you need, Angel.” He finally picks up the pace, lapping at your clit at an unrelentless pace, feeling you squirm underneath him. It was overwhelming, and you were bound to cum again any second with the way he was abusing your poor, poor pussy. Finally, the warmth returned, increasing the tension that had been building, and the knot felt like it might unravel any minute. You feel yourself on the edge; just a couple more flicks of his tongue and-

Anakin pulls away, coming over from under you with a wet mouth and nose, a sweet smile spread across his face as he pulls you against his lips.

“You taste so good, yeah? You taste that? Fucking incredible. I could drink you all fucking day.” He mumbles as he continues to hungrily kiss you, his hands holding you down as if you’d escape from him at any second.

As he lifts you upright, his arms effortlessly strip off your dress, leaving you completely exposed. His eyes danced across your skin, tracing every curve and line, drawn to the intoxicating glow your body had in his sunlight. He unconsciously started taking his own clothes off, his eyes never leaving your panting, wet figure beneath him.

As soon as his cock sprung out, you felt your breath catch in your throat. He was fucking huge. His cock was long, thick, and veiny, a beautiful pink color that would fill you up so good. He stroked it in his hands slowly, and your eyes finally made their way back to his, your mouth slightly agape in shock. He smiled at you sweetly, his hand never leaving his cock as he started to stroke a little faster, letting out a small moan as his eyes gazed upon your beautiful naked body on the riverbed.

“Come here beautiful, no need to be afraid. I’ll take such good care of you.” Anakin pulls you closer to him, positioning himself between your legs. He slaps the tip of his cock against your folds a couple of times, and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “This part is going to hurt a little bit, okay? I promise I will never ever hurt you, but this will sting. If you need me to stop, tell me. We can take this as slow as you want. Ready, Angel?”

You divert your attention from his cock outlining you to his eyes and his soft, sweet smile. It’s no wonder that you fell in love with him, truly. He was the better of the Gods, but it was so, so easy to fit him in with the rest. Were you worried he was going to taint you and then leave? Absolutely. Did you want to change anything about the moment?

“Yes, I’m ready. I’m nervous, but-“ You take a second to cup his cheek, letting yourself smile underneath him, “I trust you, Anakin.”

With your approval, Anakin slowly pushed his thick tip into your small, virgin pussy. He groaned at the contact, watching as you let out a painful, pleasurable moan from the feeling. He filled you so entirely, so completely, that the emptiness inside you vanished, replaced by a sense of wholeness you never thought possible. He grinned at the way his cock bulged from inside you, knowing that he was going to split you in half and make you scream his name again. He could never get enough of the way his name rolled off your tongue, the way you lingered on each syllable, your back arched in pleasure as you called out for him.

“H-How are we doing down there?” He barely groans out, tracing your cheek with his finger, “Fuck, I can barely contain myself right now.”

“I-I’m okay. It stings, but I want you to keep going- I need you to keep going.” You pull yourself up slightly, putting your hands around his shoulders and pulling him further into you. He was so deep, so intoxicating as he filled you up. You kiss him, burying your tongue down his throat to silence your painful moans. It hurt so bad, but you couldn’t get enough of him. You needed more.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was so fucking hot. Can I fuck you? Please? You feel too good.”

You could barely manage a whispered "yes" before Anakin thrust himself into you with full force, slamming his cock into your cervix. You let out a loud scream, never feeling so full and overwhelmed at the same time. With his free hand, he brought his thumb back down and massaged your clit in small, rhythmic circles, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He made sure to keep checking on you as he fucked you relentlessly, watching how your head bobbed and your eyes rolled as you took him so good. You had heard stories about how “God sex” was another level, but you didn’t think it’d be this fucking good.

As he felt you grip around him tighter, he slowed down, suddenly wanting to take his time more than he had before. His eyes softened at the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed and tear-stained, your entire body wet and glistening under his sun, his own saliva dripping down your chin as you let out soft moans from his slow thrusts. You were mesmerizing, you deserved to be worshipped. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“I want us to cum at the exact same time, okay? Solidify our bond together. I want us to reach that point together. You let me know exactly when you are going to cum.” He whispered against your lips, pumping his thick cock and holding back a groan.

The slowness of his movement was torturous, his brows furrowing as he watched you below him, each agonizing inch he pushed into you taking what felt like an eternity. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but he had a way of making you feel like the most incredible fucking thing in all of the Greek world. You look down and watch as his thick cock slowly pushes himself into you, memorizing his every vein and freckle. He continues to impale you over and over again, groaning and moaning your name like his own prayer. The squelching of your wetness and the way he moved his hips was making that pressure return from before, except it was seeking a vengeance this time.

Anakin picks up the pace as your cries grow louder, watching your body language and responding the best way he could. He played with your tits as they bounced from the forcefulness of his cock against your cervix. The knot in your stomach returned, the pressure building more and more- eager to explode.

And as you felt your orgasm coming on, your hips bucking up against his, your cries and moans increasing, you finally opened your eyes and looked at the God above you. The sun highlighted his face like it was made for him, his hair and eyes golden under the light. His collarbone and abs shimmered, a mixture of sweat and juices making him glisten above you. He really was a god, a beautiful and misunderstood creature who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved. And in that moment, you’d give it to him.

“A-Anakin, I’m gonna- I-“

“That’s right, baby, I’m close too, push me over the edge, yeah? Make me fill you up so good and full with my Godly cum. You can do this, baby, please-“ He cut himself off with a groan, feeling your walls squeezing tighter against him, your body, golden from his sun, trembling underneath him.

“Ani- I- Fuck- I-I love you!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, the band snapped and your walls were pulsating around him. Your moans were loud, your back arched into him as you heard him curse and groan from atop you, his cock cumming deep inside you, making you his, and making him yours. He memorized the tears as they streamed down your cheek from your orgasm, your eyes squeezed shut as you were filled to the brim with pure ecstasy.

Anakin pulled out, collapsing on the grass next to you as you both attempted to catch your breath.

“Y/N, y-your- that- that was the most fucking incredible experience I have ever had.” He barely breathed out, still coming down from the orgasm you gave him.

As you caught your breath, you rolled onto your side to look at him once again, the beauty of the sun god as he lay by your river.

“You aren’t leaving now, are you?” You whisper, your eyes solemn as you trace your initials on his chest.

“Never, baby. You’re stuck with me for eternity.” Anakin beamed at you, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he pulled you on top of him into another deep kiss.

“Wait, Ani-“ You pulled away, noticing eyes were etched with concern and you let out a little giggle, “I have something I wanted to give you. Since you’ve given me all of those gifts before and- well- I meant to give it to you earlier but we got so caught up in things.” You blush under his gaze, your nerves catching up to you as you thought about your gift.

“Angel, you didn’t have to do that. But I promise I will cherish whatever you give me for the rest of time. Lemme see.”

You stand up from beside him, watching as he lay naked against your riverbed as if he had always belonged there. Except now he did. Your cheeks flushed as you turned away from him to walk to the laurel tree, feeling his eyes on you.

Your hand reached up to a branch, pulling it from the tree and snapping it off, your heart aching at your actions. As you walked towards Anakin, the laurel branch transformed into a crown under your skilled hands, its leaves shimmering with the soft light of your Naiad magic.

“I wanted to give you a piece of me, because I know that you have other responsibilities and I won’t always get to see you.” You placed the crown upon his head, before taking his hands within yours, “That laurel tree made me pick this spot. It’s always been my favorite. This crown will never die, and the leaves will never fall, it is eternal- just like our love.”

A radiant smile spread across Anakin’s face as happy tears welled up in his eyes. He enveloped you in a tight hug, and you could feel the warmth of his affection. His fingers traced the contours of your back, a lingering touch, as he whispered his thanks, each word laced with a desperation that made your heart ache. It was strange how you got here, but yet you had found that missing piece. You didn’t expect him to be the God of the Sun, Zeus’s favorite, or anything like that. To you, he was just your Anakin. Your sweet, sweet Anakin.

“I thought I’d be searching for eternity throughout the Greek world for a love like this. And yet, you were brought to me.” Anakin pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as the weight of his words came down on the both of you, “Our love is eternal.”

“Our love is eternal.”

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tikhondownichi · 6 months ago

Note

My ask got eaten I think 😔

But no matter

Throws these headcanons about Prorva at you

- She’s very vocal. And when I say that, I mean screeching when she’s picked up, literally wailing when she falls and hurts herself, and when she learns how to talk, you better believe she was screaming random words

- ADHD to the fucking MAX, like you could not get her to sit still if you tried, nor is she good at paying attention

- When she asked where babies came from, her answer was “Don’t worry about it” and later figured it out herself when she saw another batch of eggs in the shop (poor father and daughter for that one)

- Made up an imaginary friend to blame shit on, like “My friend chewed the wires!” And pointed at air lol

- She can be cute when she wants something but only Sebastian can see through the bullshit

Sorry if this gets sent twice, Tumblr likes my asks as a snack

i have a VERY LOT of asks in my inbox and I physically cannot answer them all quickly. I do this to the best of my ability, so no offense :[

welp now I'd like to put in my five cents >:]

- totally agree, she has a talent for screeching disgustingly like a pig being squeezed by a gate 👹

- Seb won't tolerate her ADHD antics. He'll just give her lightly spank, a slap and ban her to the storage room (I mean, Seb is a maimed man with a lot of mental trauma and has been tortured for years. People like him don't make lovely and affectionate parents. On top of that, he gives the impression of being a terribly hot-tempered person);

- the egg story is an isolated incident. They're both going through enough. The less Prorva knows, the more she sleeps;

- too bad this imaginary friend won't save her from Seb's educational smackdown for chewed wires :c

- heh classic, that goes without saying!

#ask box #sebastian solace #prorva

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theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago

Text

HOPELESS | PO5

an: first time writing pato and i know i've written him less cocky and flirty than i wold have personally expected him being depicted. but i think for this request it worked in my favour.

wc: 3.3k

Pato had never been particularly good with words, but that didn’t matter much in motorsport. Out on the track, skill spoke louder than conversation, and for the most part, he was fine with that.

But with her, it was different.

She was the first-ever Indy champion, a driver who had carved her name into history with raw talent and relentless determination. Everyone knew her, everyone respected her—himself included. The other drivers had stories about her, moments shared in garages and on podiums, inside jokes and easy camaraderie. He had none of that.

For some reason, he simply didn’t exist in her world.

It wasn’t that she disliked him. There were no grudges, no bad blood. She treated him with the same polite professionalism she extended to reporters or engineers she barely knew. And yet, when he spoke, her responses were clipped, transactional. If she laughed at a joke in the paddock, it was never one of his. If she scanned a room, her gaze slid past him like he was a shadow against the wall.

It shouldn't have bothered him. It did.

Because Pato had been nursing a hopeless, ridiculous crush on her for as long as he could remember.

It wasn’t immediate, this thing he had for her. It crept up on him, slow and insidious, like the way tyre wear set in over a long stint—barely noticeable at first, until suddenly, it was all he could think about.

Maybe it started the first time he saw her race, years ago, before he even had a seat in IndyCar. He remembered watching from the pit wall, the way she danced through traffic, fearless and calculated, wringing every ounce of speed from a car that should’ve been struggling. He told himself back then that it was admiration, the kind any driver would have for another at the top of their game. But admiration didn’t tie knots in his stomach when she brushed past him in the paddock, nor did it make him hyper-aware of every offhand comment she made.

No, this was something worse.

And she had no idea.

Pato had tried to make an impression—nothing over the top, just little things. A comment here, a question there, something to make him more than just another driver in the field. It never landed. She’d acknowledge him, sure, but only in the way she acknowledged anyone she wasn’t particularly close with. There was no spark of recognition, no shift in her tone when she spoke to him.

Everyone else had that with her. Everyone but him.

And the worst part? He had no idea why.

It wasn’t arrogance; he knew his place in the pecking order. He wasn’t naïve enough to think he deserved her attention just because he wanted it. But it wasn’t as if they’d ever clashed, either. He’d never taken her out of a race, never bad-mouthed her, never done anything that might explain why she skimmed over him like he was background noise.

He’d never mattered to her.

And yet, she was all that mattered to him.

He knew he needed to get rid of his hopeless crush on her.

It was stupid. Pointless. Self-inflicted torture.

He told himself that constantly, especially when she breezed past him in the paddock without a second glance, or when she laughed—really laughed—at something another driver said, like they were in on some joke he would never be part of.

He needed to move on.

Until they were paired for pre-season media.

For a whole week.

Pato stared at the email in his inbox, half-convinced it was a mistake. Media obligations were a necessary evil in racing, but they were usually spread out, different drivers rotating in and out for interviews, photoshoots, sponsor promos. This, however, was something else.

A full week of interviews, press events, and behind-the-scenes content. Together.

The logic made sense. She was the reigning champion, the face of the sport. He was coming off a strong season, a title contender in his own right. Pairing them up created a compelling narrative—two of the top drivers, side by side, setting the tone for the year ahead.

For everyone else, it was great marketing.

For Pato, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Because how was he supposed to pretend she didn’t affect him when he’d be stuck with her for seven straight days? When he’d have to sit next to her, answer questions about their "rivalry" (which didn’t exist, considering she barely registered his presence), and—God help him—probably pose for staged social media content where they’d be forced to look like they were actually friends?

He could already see it: a carefully curated clip of them laughing at some scripted joke, the kind of moment fans would eat up. She’d be effortless, charming as ever. And him? He’d be struggling to act like he wasn’t hanging onto every word she said.

It was going to be the longest week of his life.

The first day of pre-season media started early. Too early for Pato to be dealing with this.

He arrived at the studio ahead of schedule, hoping that being early would give him time to settle in. It didn’t. The place was already a whirlwind of activity—PR reps barking orders, camera crews setting up lights, stylists buzzing around like it was the Met Gala instead of a bunch of racing drivers doing press.

And she was already there.

He spotted her near one of the backdrops, talking to a producer, nodding along as they ran through the schedule. Effortlessly composed, like she’d done this a thousand times before. Which, of course, she had.

She was dressed in team gear, but even the plain polo and branded jacket looked good on her, like she belonged on the cover of a motorsport magazine. He forced himself to look away before his brain could start romanticising something as stupid as the way she stood—like she owned the room without even trying.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

Good.

Maybe he could get through this week by staying in the background, doing his job, keeping things professional. He just had to ignore the fact that every time she looked through him, it twisted something in his gut.

“Ah, Pato! You’re here.”

Too late.

One of the PR reps clapped him on the shoulder before steering him forward, right into her line of sight. She turned at the sound of his name, her expression shifting from polite focus to something neutral. Not cold, not unkind—just nothing.

“Morning,” she said, like it was an afterthought.

“Morning.” His voice came out steadier than he expected, which was a miracle in itself.

She gave a small nod, then looked back at the producer, clearly expecting the conversation to move on without him.

Of course.

The PR rep cleared their throat. “Right! So, you two are paired for the day, and we’ve got a packed schedule. First up—some quickfire Q&A for the socials, then a sit-down interview for the pre-season documentary.”

Pato nodded, determined to act like this was just another media obligation. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth overthinking.

Until the PR rep added, far too casually—

“And after lunch, we’ll be doing some fun challenges—bit of a ‘getting to know each other’ vibe. Teamwork exercises, that sort of thing.”

He froze.

So did she.

Her brows pulled together, just slightly. It wasn’t irritation, more like mild confusion—like she couldn’t understand why they had been chosen for something like that.

“Right,” she said eventually. “Sounds… fun.”

It didn’t sound fun. Not to her. Definitely not to him.

Pato had wanted her to acknowledge him. To notice him.

Now, for the first time in his career, they were going to be forced to interact properly.

And he had no idea if he was ready for it.

The first part of the day went about as well as Pato had expected—awkwardly, painfully, and with absolutely no shift in how she saw him.

The quickfire Q&A session was fine. Standard questions, standard answers. They sat side by side while an off-camera producer fired prompts at them. Who had the better qualifying record? (Her.) Who was most likely to be late to a team meeting? (Him.) Who had the worst taste in music? (Also him, apparently, judging by the way she scrunched her nose when he admitted to liking 80s rock.)

She didn’t laugh at him, but she didn’t laugh with him either. The same easy, effortless energy she had with other drivers wasn’t there. It was all business, like she was just getting through another obligation.

The sit-down interview wasn’t much better.

“Describe each other in three words.”

Pato hesitated. Three words. Just three? He could name 100 if she asked.

“Fast,” he said eventually, because obviously. “Consistent. And… competitive.”

She gave a small nod, acknowledging the answer, but there was nothing behind it.

When it was her turn, she barely hesitated. “Skilled. Focused.” A pause. “Quiet.”

Quiet.

It wasn’t wrong, exactly. He was quieter than most of the grid, more measured with his words. But coming from her, it felt less like an observation and more like confirmation—of what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe that she still didn’t really see him.

By the time lunch rolled around, he was convinced nothing about their dynamic was going to change.

And then, the afternoon happened.

The "fun challenges," as the PR rep had so kindly put it, turned out to be a mix of stupid icebreaker games and team-building exercises.

The first was a trust exercise.

“Okay, you know how this works,” the producer explained, gesturing between them. “Pato, stand behind her. She’s going to fall, and you’re going to catch her.”

Pato’s brain short-circuited.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, looking more amused than anything. “Try not to drop me, yeah?”

It was the first remotely casual thing she’d said to him all day.

He managed a smirk. “No promises.”

A tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. Not a full smile. Not even close. But it was something.

She turned back around, took a breath, and let herself fall.

For a split second, he almost forgot to catch her. Not on purpose—he just wasn’t used to her being this close, trusting him with something as simple as this.

His arms wrapped around her waist just in time, stopping her before she hit the ground. For the briefest moment, she was right there, weight pressed against him, her head tilting slightly as if she was about to glance back.

And then it was over.

She straightened up, stepping away, brushing her hands over her jacket like nothing had happened.

“Not bad,” she admitted.

Pato exhaled, forcing his brain back into normal function. “Told you I wouldn’t drop you.”

She hummed, considering. “I thought you said no promises.”

He blinked. Was she—was she teasing him?

Before he could figure out how to respond, the producer clapped their hands together. “Great! Next challenge—answering questions for each other. Let’s see how well you really know your gridmate.”

Her brow lifted slightly as she looked at Pato.

Gridmates.

They weren’t. Not really.

But for this week, maybe they had to be.

The rest of the week blurred into a cycle of press obligations, staged interactions, and an ever-present awareness that, for the first time in his career, she actually had to acknowledge him.

It wasn’t much—small, incremental shifts that barely felt like progress. But Pato noticed everything.

The way she started looking at him when he spoke, instead of through him. The way she started responding to his jokes—not always with laughter, but with a twitch of her lips, like she was holding something back. The way she started actually engaging with him, even if it was just subtle, throwaway comments between takes.

By the time they reached the final stretch of media duties, it was easier. Almost natural.

Almost.

The moment that stuck with him, though—the one that lodged itself in his brain like an unshakable thought—came on the second-to-last day, during lunch.

He hadn’t even realised she was nearby until she was standing in front of him, hand extended. A cereal bar. Nothing fancy. Just one of those standard protein bars the teams kept stocked for quick energy.

Pato frowned, looking between the bar and her face, like there was some hidden meaning he wasn’t catching. “What’s this?”

She tilted her head slightly, like he was the one being strange. “You haven’t eaten yet.”

He blinked. “How do you—”

“You always wait until the last second, and then you grab something just before the next shoot.” She shrugged. “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Pato stared. Not because it was a grand gesture—if anything, it was small. Thoughtless, even. Like she’d noticed, made a decision, and moved on without thinking too much about it.

And maybe that’s what got to him.

She noticed.

Before he could say anything, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing there, cereal bar in hand, trying very hard not to read into something that probably meant nothing.

Probably.

That night, Pato was actively losing his mind.

The cereal bar was still sitting on his hotel nightstand, untouched. He didn’t even like that flavour. That wasn’t the point.

She had noticed him. Noticed him. And not in the usual, fleeting, empty way where he barely registered in her head. She had paid attention. To his habits. To the fact that he was terrible at remembering to eat on time. She had walked over, handed it to him, and left before he could so much as process the fact that it had even happened.

What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

There was only one person he trusted to make sense of this for him.

His mother.

He pressed the phone to his ear, pacing his hotel room like an idiot, waiting for her to pick up.

“¿Mijo?” came her warm, familiar voice. “¿Qué pasó? It’s late where you are, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” he said, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m losing my mind.”

She sighed, the kind of exasperated sound that only a mother could perfect. “Ay, Dios. ¿Qué hiciste ahora?”

“Nothing! That’s the problem!”

A pause. “… Es por una chica, no?”

Pato groaned. “Of course you immediately know it’s about a girl.”

“Because you sound like your father when he was being tonto about me,” she said, unimpressed. “Who is she?”

He exhaled. “It’s—ugh. It’s her.”

His mother knew exactly who he meant. He had never explicitly told her about his hopeless crush, but she wasn’t stupid. The one time she’d come to a race and met his fellow drivers, she had taken one look at him watching her across the paddock and raised a knowing eyebrow.

“Ah,” she said, like that explained everything. “And what has she done to make you so dramatic?”

“She gave me a cereal bar.”

A long silence. Then—

“… Perdón?”

“A cereal bar! At lunch! She just—she noticed that I wasn’t eating on time and handed me one and walked away like it was nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I know it’s stupid, but she’s never noticed me before. Not really. And now she’s—she’s just—”

“Being nice?” his mother finished dryly.

Pato groaned. “Yes. No. Maybe?”

Another sigh. “Mijo, listen to me. You have been in love with this girl for—what? A year? More? And you’ve done nothing because you convinced yourself she doesn’t care. And now that she’s proving you wrong, you’re still doing nothing?”

“I—”

“Ay, Patricio.” When she used his full name, he knew he was in trouble. “What do you want? Honestly.”

Pato sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

“I want her to see me the way I see her,” he admitted, quiet.

His mother’s voice softened. “Then haz algo, hijo. Do something. Say something. Stop standing in the background of your own story.”

Pato closed his eyes.

She made it sound so simple.

It wasn’t.

But maybe… maybe it didn’t have to be impossible, either.

Pato barely slept.

His mother’s words looped in his head all night. Do something. Say something. As if it were that easy. As if he could just shake off a year of being invisible and suddenly be someone that mattered to her.

By the time 5 a.m. rolled around and his brain still refused to shut up, he gave up on sleep entirely. He pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his keycard, and made his way downstairs to the hotel’s outdoor pool, hoping that the quiet would clear his head.

And then he saw her.

She was sitting at the edge of the pool, feet dipped in the water, arms braced behind her as she stared out at the city lights reflecting off the still surface.

Pato froze.

His body screamed at him to turn around before she noticed him. But then she shifted slightly, head tilting at the sound of footsteps. Her gaze landed on him.

Too late.

He had two options: pretend he had some other reason to be here, or…

Do something.

Taking a slow breath, he stepped forward, pulling off his hoodie and tossing it onto a nearby lounger before sitting down a few feet away from her.

“You do realise this isn’t a race,” he said, nudging his chin towards the water. “No need to be this dedicated to aerodynamics.”

She huffed a quiet laugh through her nose, shaking her head. “It’s peaceful. And I couldn’t sleep.”

“Same,” he admitted, nudging his bare feet into the water. It was cool, not freezing, but enough to shock his system awake.

A beat of silence stretched between them. Not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either.

Talk, his mother’s voice nagged in his head. Say something.

“So,” Pato started, searching for anything to keep the moment from slipping away. “Since we’re stuck doing media together, I feel like I should get some information. Y’know, for survival.”

She raised a brow. “Survival?”

“Yeah. Like, what’s your go-to pre-race meal? Most important question, obviously.”

That earned him an actual smirk. “Pasta. Always.”

“Solid choice,” he mused. “Okay, follow-up: if you weren’t a driver, what would you be doing?”

She hummed, tilting her head in thought. “Something adrenaline-based. Maybe skydiving. Or stunt driving.”

Pato snorted. “I can definitely see that.”

“What about you?” she asked, glancing at him.

He blinked, caught off guard. Not just by the question—but by the fact that she was asking in the first place.

“Probably something quiet,” he admitted. “Maybe a mechanic. Or a watchmaker.”

That made her actually turn towards him, brows raised. “A watchmaker?”

He shrugged. “I like precision. Small moving parts. Everything fitting together perfectly.”

She studied him for a moment, like she was seeing him properly for the first time.

Before Pato could think too hard about that, he exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, last question.”

She arched a brow. “Go on.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

She hesitated, glancing away. “Extra media obligations. All day.”

Pato nodded, swallowing the mild disappointment that settled in his chest. “Right. Of course.”

But then—she paused.

“… But I’m free after eight. Why?”

His pulse kicked up, and before he could overthink it, the words tumbled out.

“Dinner,” he said. “Just as grid mates.”

She looked at him. Really looked at him. Then—her lips quirked slightly.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Pato’s brain immediately short-circuited.

“N—no,” he said too quickly, scrambling to backpedal. “I mean, it’s not—obviously not—”

“That’s a shame,” she interrupted, standing up and stepping out of the pool. She grabbed a towel, casually drying off her legs. “Because I would have said yes.”

Pato forgot how to breathe.By the time he managed to reboot his brain and form a response, she was already walking away, leaving him sitting there—staring after her, heart pounding, and officially, completely doomed.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore

#pato o'ward #pato o'ward fanfiction #pato o'ward x reader #indycar #arrow mclaren #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one x you #po5 #po5 x reader #po5 fanfic #pato o'ward fanfic #pato oward

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lucy-literates · 18 days ago

Note

Helloooo my favourite Arthur writer. In honour of the charity football match, here’s another request 😉

Arthur’s girlfriend comes home and as she opens the door she narrowly avoids getting hit in the face with a football. She finds Charles and Arthur playing with the ball INSIDE the house, because the charity football match is coming up and Charles has decided he is the expert and will train his little brother so that he doesn’t “disgrace the Leclerc name on the football pitch”. After the ball nearly hits Arthur’s helmet, a trophy and her for the third time she grabs the ball and demands they all go outside as she is taking over said training. Basically she runs rings around them and Arthur is in awe that he wasn’t aware how good she is & Charles tells him that he should just marry her and then she can take his place on the pitch as that’s the only way to keep the Leclerc football talent legacy alive…

Basically just the Leclerc brothers being the loveable dumbasses they are pls 🥺🩵

The Leclerc Legacy

A/N: I loved this, it is so cute. They are adorable dumbasses, and I think I managed to capture that. It is a little bit on the shorter side, but I think it works. Enjoy and, as always, my inbox is open :)

The moment you opened the front door, a blur of white and black whizzed past your face.

You blinked.

The football hit the hallway wall with a loud thud, knocking a picture frame crooked. A helmet tumbled off a side table. Somewhere in the distance, something that sounded suspiciously like a trophy hit the floor.

“WHAT—”

“C’est pas possible—Arthur, you were supposed to catch that!” came Charles’ unmistakable voice, thick with laughter and a total lack of remorse.

You stepped fully into the flat and stared.

There, in the middle of your living room, were Charles and Arthur — mid-football match. Inside. In socks. Arthur was still in half his Ferrari gear, helmet forgotten on a chair, and Charles was shirtless, like that somehow gave him the upper hand.

“I live here,” you said, holding the door behind you. “You do realize that, right?”

Arthur gave you a sheepish grin. “Hi, baby.”

“She almost got hit in the face, idiot,” Charles said, then turned to you. “You okay? That pass was meant to be low, but your boyfriend’s got the reaction speed of a baguette.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did it ever occur to you both that maybe — just maybe — playing football inside the house isn’t the best idea?”

Arthur scratched the back of his neck. “Char said I need training before the charity match. Apparently I’ll ‘disgrace the Leclerc name’ if I don’t improve.”

“He will,” Charles said, proudly. “So I offered to help. Big brother duties.”

“You just wanted an excuse to show off,” you muttered, ducking as the ball flew past your head again, this time knocking over Arthur’s helmet.

“Okay, that’s it.” You snatched the ball mid-roll before it could hit the wine rack. “Outside. Now.”

Charles frowned. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m taking over training before you destroy my apartment and Arthur’s confidence.”

Arthur laughed. “You play football now?”

You gave him a look. “Now? Honey, I was captain of my school team. Striker. National semis. Sit down.”

Arthur’s eyes widened.

Charles grinned, intrigued. “Alright then, let’s go. Prove it.”

Fifteen minutes later, the three of you were out on the nearest patch of grass. The moment the ball hit your foot, everything changed. You darted between the brothers like it was second nature — fast, fluid, composed. You nutmegged Arthur, spun past Charles, flicked the ball into the air, and volleyed it right between two trees that had become makeshift goals.

Silence.

Arthur blinked. “What just happened.”

Charles stared at you. “We are so screwed.”

You smirked, brushing hair from your face. “Any other questions?”

“No,” Charles muttered, grabbing the ball and handing it to Arthur. “You know what? You should just marry her and let her take your spot on the pitch. It’s the only way the Leclerc football legacy survives.”

Arthur was still watching you like you’d just discovered fire. “Where have you been hiding this?”

You leaned in close, grinning. “Wouldn’t want to destroy your ego too early in the relationship.”

Charles groaned. “Too late.”

Arthur grabbed your hand, looking borderline smitten. “Seriously. You’re amazing.”

“I know,” you said, tossing the ball back to him. “Now show me what you’ve got, Leclerc. You’ve got a legacy to uphold — and I’m not saving your ass in front of thousands unless you earn it.”

Charles clapped dramatically. “Oooh, she’s ruthless. I love her.”

Arthur just smiled, unable to take his eyes off you. “Yeah. Me too.”

Would you like a follow-up with post-match fluff, like Arthur being all cuddly and overwhelmed that his girlfriend is the coolest human alive?

Part 2

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fluff

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thatzombiecat · 29 days ago

Text

RT APPRECIATION WEEK

✨shout-out post to the fandom friends and the community✨~

Still in the process of slowly going through my inbox (dw guys you've all been seen, Ilysm, and I'll reach out to everyone <3), but I want to shout out all wonderful creatives and friends, all the amazing people of Rogue Trader CRPG community.

While you're a creator or not, or just being there silently smashing the like button / reblogging the content we make, constanly popping in the activity feed (yeeeees guys, I know your handles, I appreciate you A FREAKING LOT) please know YOU'RE ALL BREATHTAKING, YOUR PRESENCE IN THE FANDOM IS IMPORTANT, WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU ALL💖💖 Vincent also sends yall a warm regards ;3

Some shout-outs for my dears and dearests under the cut:

Rogue Trader was definitive for the entire last year of my carreer, most of the works been featured in this fandom space, and most of my clients, friends and acquaintances been one way or another involved in the fandom life. So this amazing fandom is dear and special to me, it's was there that I've met a WHOLE BUNCH of ABSOLUTELY LOVELY INCREDIBLE AND TALENTED FRIENDS AND MOOTS

So special shout-out to my beloved fandom besties met along the way:

@maggotknight, @skolas-a, @holylustration, @redbatchedcumbermayned, @fenlirias, @indigo-scribbles, @tiasmox, @unsupervised-threat, @shieldsnspears and all peeps from the Owlyfans gang (iykyk) ¬‿¬ MY DARLINGS LOVE YALL SO MUCH🫂 💖💖 HUGS AND KISSES TO EVERYONE MWAHHH

Wonderful community writers and contributors:

@hazelderiva, @redstairs, @theevilscribbler, @pheedraws, @pycnolite, @cawyden-gaming, @jaal-ama-daravv, @gingerfan24, @pallysuune, @vitanithepure, @icasticonoclast, @vossn, @fourraccoonsinacoat, @noelle666, @amasec, @lordcaptains, Thank you all for keeping our fandom creative spirit lit up and going with your magic <3

Glorious artist moots and fellas:

@annahenriart @sotc, @misscoet, @revivisection, @infernaldaydreams, @arcandoria, @solanj, @raeb33s-art, @nahoba, @sanzosin, @nananarc, @natchart, @morvvn, @hamaqiu, @mayoonrices, @tumbgert, @blue124th Thank you peeps for gracing the fandom space with your sparkling creativity!

And more personal shout-outs for my belovedst pals:

@ederadnt while you're not a part of the RT fandom (yet? >;3), I still wanna shout out you too my dear! Thank you for being there and patiently listening to my consant Warhammer brainrot ramblings and OC lore dump. There will be more. This is a threat. SCREAMINGGGGGG LOVE YOU SO MUCH DEAR AAAAAAAAAAA💕💕💕💕 (also folks yall should go follow her NOW she's an absolutely amazing and talented artist)

@roastedribbz I think I've already said my part earlier (many times) and there's little to add, but I'd never tire tell that I'm so incredibly happy and proud sharing the space with you here, thank you so much for being around <3

I'm really honoured to be a part of this 🫶 Cheers everyone and happy RT appreciation week 💖💖

#if I forgot someone pls know you're seen and you're appreciated too💕#it's a little TOO MUCH people to send asks individually #don't have enough social battery running atm #slipping into the tag the last day hehe #spreading positivity in the fandom #I know many of yall here are multitalented peeps but anyway #rt appreciation week #rtappreciationweek #rogue trader crpg #oc: vincent andar von valancius #thatzombieart #my art #thatzombietalks

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sleepybbie · 2 years ago

Note

Your Dan Feng thirst makes me so... Oonga boonga.... Thank yew for the meal op 🙏 if I may humbly ask for a blurb of thirst can we have Dan Feng showing Dan Heng the ropes on how to make you—Dan Heng's (and maybe soon Dan Feng's as well)—partner feel great in bed? After all!! What better way to learn how to please your own partner than yourself!!

𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 | dan heng & dan feng drabble

a/n: ahhh another dan heng request! >.< it’s not so surprising to see how popular my first hsr fav has grown ^o^ <3 yet still, i’m excited to see more works of mine regarding him because he’s the most requested in my inbox rn :3

dan heng il x fem!reader x dan feng

warning: smut ;3 some fingering here and there ^^

“i refuse to believe someone like you is my reincarnation.”

DAN HENG clicks his tongue in annoyance, sweat slowly dripping across his face as he pathetically watches DAN FENG spreads your legs apart with his long fingers, perfectly along with scissoring open your cute little clit as you squirm and whine, his tail wrapping around your waist to keep you still.

this was not what he meant when he needed slow guidance on how to please you better, as a sweet lover. his goddamn irritating incarnation however just had to pop out of nowhere and give him a ‘lesson’ on how to take you to a seraphic paradise. you were vulnerable, unable to move from your lover’s incarnation’s tail, your bare back from your disheveled clothes pressed against dan feng’s chest while his other free hand toys with your tits.

“..deciding to want to make love with your beloved when you don’t know how to treat her in bed properly…”

“i don’t need you teaching me how,” dan heng tells him, an angered expression written across his face. dan feng scoffs, his digits rubbing your cunt in slow circles, feeling your fluids drip slowly out from your cavern while you mewl loudly. “then why are you looking so intensely while i fondle her?” the former high elder speaks, his gaze never leaving dan heng’s.

dan heng anxiously swallows a lump down his throat, his aching cock pleading to be freed from his pants as the male desperately tries to refrain from touching himself right at that moment. the sight of you being touched and pleasured by his incarnate, makes him annoyed…yet at the same time, it was quite the sight to witness. your breasts about to pop out of your clothing, lips leaking few drools while your pretty cunt was displayed in front of him, glistening like a gem as dan feng teased your hole with his fingers.

“i must say, she is sort of acting like a woman with sexual innuendos.”

“are you saying she’s a ‘whore?”

“is that how you people call it these days? hmph. then, yes..you’re quite lucky…she’s not lucky however…” dan feng removes his hand from your tits, grabbing your chin to make you face him as he continued to speak to your lover, his reincarnation. aeons, he and dan heng really look alike, but instead—dan feng’s gaze was a little more colder, a little more stern. “she’s supposed to make love with someone who’s supposed to be my reincarnation, whom ends up not knowing how to please a woman.”

dan feng slowly makes you face back to your lover, who’s cheeks were red, panting heavily as he sits there and watches his incarnate prod open your pussy wide, drips of your impurity leaking from your hole as a loud whine escapes your lips. dan heng jolts.

“you—

“if you want to please a woman, it’s best to know how to do foreplay. first, you’d want to rub her clit down, just like this..” dan feng slowly repeats his steady massages down your weeping cunt, watching as you quiver at his touches, long sharp fingers kneading them down, your whines never fainting away. he’s…good. you love dan heng with all your heart, but his incarnation was talented with this. the former high elder chuckles, “what a loud mouth she has. it sounds like she’s wanting more, don’t you think?”

“wha—

“quit yapping and come here. you look like you are about to pop over there if you don’t touch her,” dan feng cuts him off, shushing him down as he commands your lover to come over closer. oh no…

dan heng approaches, not so eagerly, but slowly, his red face sending dan feng a death glare when he arrived close to you. a small smile appears over dan feng’s face, like he was smug about dan heng holding back to a pretty girl like you. “do not hesitate now, touch her.” dan feng tells him, removing his hand from your clit as he grabs dan heng’s wrists and places his fingers on top of your hole. he stops for a moment, looking at you with a nervous expression, breath heavy as his chest pants. you were so…pretty, so helpless, you were pleased. that’s all he ever wanted.

dan feng rolls his eyes, “what are you waiting for?”

“s-shut up…”

forgive me, y/n…

dan heng was fumed by his words, it was all over his face. he was frustrated and turned on. you looked at him, feeling dan feng’s tail pushing you further up to him before dan heng slips a finger inside your cunt for a brief moment. you cry, and he pulls it out again, flustered. he looked at his finger, and saw how drenched it already was from your fluids.

that…was

“see? she’s liking it. do it again, with two fingers this time.”dan feng orders him, his hands still continuing to play with your breasts, twirling your hardened nipples around.

dan heng did just what he was told, giving his forefinger and ring finger a small lick, before splitting you open with his fingers. a loud moan escapes out of your throat, head pushing back on dan feng’s shoulder as the two vidyadharas pleased you with ease. dan heng focusing on his fingers in your cunt, while dan feng parades you with praises, licking your earlobe, toying around with your tits.

oh fuck, dan heng thinks. the face your giving right now…he’s so fucking hard from the sight you’re making him receive.

“feels good, darling?” dan feng questions to you, and you nod. dan heng looks at him, looking like he’s about to stab him with cloud piercer any moment now.

“don’t forget who she belongs to.”

“ah, a shame. it appears she likes the both of us…”

fuck yeah you did. it was clear dan heng was jealous, and so, he leans in, giving you a passionate kiss, muffling your cute noises. with dan heng’s fingers, mouth and dan feng’s praises that were suddenly being possessed by filth along with his rhythm of his palms that presses down on your nipple, you won’t be going to last long. you were growing louder and louder of every minute. dan feng pulls dan heng away from you, resulting in a very irked dan heng.

“what the hell?!”

“patience. look at her, she’s close.”

dan feng was right. the knot in your belly was about to be cut open, hearts moulding into your pupils as a euphoric sigh passes your lips. it didn’t take long for you to squirt your release out, dan heng closing his eyes as your orgasm came to the edge, spilling some on his face and mostly on the ground, your hazy dreamscape of pleasure weighing down on your mind as you came down, panting hard. dan heng too was panting, face flushed as you heard him cursing underneath his breath.

“impressive. seems like you made a girl squirt on your first try.” dan feng says, before he bends you over, your face hitting the area of dan heng’s fabric pants before the former high elder hikes your skirt up.

“next, you should know how to let her take cock.” he says, and you knew you were going to end up very sore afterwards.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr smut #dan heng x reader #dan heng il x reader #dan feng x reader #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #honkai star rail smut #lily’s ❀ drabbles

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dhampling · 1 year ago

Text

˗ˏˋ i'm dal - she/‎‎‎her. 24. ˎˊ˗ astarion x reader content • 18+ only, minors dni! ‎‏‏‎ ꙳⊹ ﾟ⋆ • about me • ko-fi • ao3 • my caps • © BLOODSOEUR. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works.

butter gn!reader, 2.5k you and the vampire spend a short gloaming sun discussing marriage

both free gn!reader, 2.1k you reject bhaal’s greatest gift - to this, your horrified love bears witness

one mine, both yours bard gn!reader, 1.6k astarion’s habit of visiting your tent leads him to your hidden pile of sonnets

the shepherd, the black sheep gn!reader, 2k a plummet into a chasm leaves you and your light-fingered friend stuck. together, you wonder if you’ll ever emerge again.

sylvan gn!reader, 2.8k a chance series of encounters in youth come together on one night, where everything just clicks for Astarion and his unicorn.

the sunwalker's gift gn!reader, 3.3k you find a ring - after a lot of searching - that allows astarion to walk in the sun, and propose with it.

gush fem!reader, 2.2k (NSFW) it rains. you swindle some wine and astarion cums in his breeches.

oh, mother fem!reader, 3.3k (NSFW) it’s the mummy fic.

lifeblood fem!reader, 2.5k (NSFW) astarion discovers an aphrodisiac during a trip to the night market, and only one thing is on his mind.

ivory tower fem!reader x ascended!astarion, 4.6k (NSFW) you're still mortal, and there's good reason for it.

warming fem!reader 1.2k (NSFW) early morning feeding and cockwarming because i said so.

swell fem!reader 1.9k (NSFW) feral pregnant sex with the elf. inspired by this NSFW piece by the ridiculously talented @mutualcombat.

leeches girl!dadstarion, <1k astarion and his daughter have a spat.

little love girl!dadstarion, <1k dadstarion watches dhampling sleep.

bramble jam girl!dadstarion, <1k “In what realm would we need this much jam?”

the gate girl!dadstarion, 1.5k astarion is a school-gate dilf on his first pick-up adventure with you.

sunburn girl!dadstarion, <1k dhampling gets sunburnt!

introducing the siblings girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) "I had this image in my mind of him introducing the older girls to their new baby sister each time and just being sweet and cute"

breakfast girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) astarion trying to make breakfast for the growing brood while tav/reader is like, "my love, you wanted this"

bump dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) astarion being a lil shit and causing more kicks talking to and touching tav's baby bump as tav tries to rest?

stretch marks dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) Imagine a tav who’s really insecure about these marks [...] and when they bring it up to astarion he decides the best course of action is to show them how much he loves them.

snuggles dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) when tav is pregnant astarion would love snuggling up to their baby bump - curling around them and listening for signs of their little one

shallow bites girl!dadstarion (inbox prompt) "I think it would be really funny if astarion and tav’s daughter was practicing her bites and pickpocketing on the two of them, respectively. [...] No ancunín is going to grow up being a half-rate pickpocket!"

hugs from behind dadstarion x reader (inbox prompt) "hugging the other from behind" from this list of prompts with astarion hugging his very tall, very pregnant wife from behind because I think the image of it is so cute.

tiefling tav showing affection via their tail tief!reader (inbox prompt)

valentine's day with astarion gn!reader (inbox prompt)

earthbound astarion x earth!born reader (inbox prompt) "how do you think astarion would handle a tav who is actually from earth and is going to return home after defeating the netherbrain?"

reunited astarion x earth!born reader (inbox prompt) "a follow-up to earth tav somehow reuniting with astarion, via reincarnation or another divine intervention"

patience gn!reader (inbox prompt) "hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" from the one-liners list"

baking gn!reader (inbox prompt) "ASTARION GETTING INTO BAKING AND ASKING YOU TO SAMPLE ALL OF HIS BAKES"

thulsun fem!reader, not tav! 3.7k (NSFW) under rework! astarion appears at your parlour one evening in a cloud of smoked bergamot and the briefest hint of spunk, and it becomes oh-so difficult to watch him leave.

three, minimum fem!reader, 4.3k (NSFW) astarion has been planning, for the first time in his life. He wants babies.

nought point five fem!reader, 4.7k (NSFW) seven months along, he’s besotted with every pregnant piece of you.

one fem!reader, 2k astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that’s it. that’s the plot.

one more fem!reader, 2.9k (NSFW) your home is quaint. astarion continues to insist it isn’t busy enough.

(astarion x fem!reader au, NSFW) he's a potwasher. you want to fuck the potwasher. this started as a joke and now i'm obsessed. enjoy.

one two

#pinned post #blog intro #astarion x reader #bg3 #my writing #masterlist

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cayleeuhithinknott · 5 days ago

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭 1𝐤 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ! ˎˊ˗

this seems dramatic but i seriously cannot believe i have 1k followers now!! to some people, that might not seem like a lot, but to me it really is. i love writing and reading and i seriously appreciate having an outlet for those 2 things and such amazing people along with it. i never expected this many people to care about what i post or say on here, and i’m so so grateful.

so, as the first part of my 1k special, i wanted to make a silly little appreciation post for my closest friends on this app :) you guys have made this experience so much more fun, enjoyable, and meaningful, and i genuinely love having you in my life.

(p.s. reminder for everyone else at the bottom 🫶)

@mattybsgroupie MOTHER!!! i remember when i first mentioned making an appreciation post, you said, and i quote, “girl if im not first in that list” and i replied “you will be TRUST” SO HERE YOU ARE AT THE TOP!!! maria i literally love you so unbelievably much. you are so sweet and such a talented writer and you got me into sub!matt…you are so fun and kind and uplifting and you never fail to put a smile on my face. hearing you say my writing is good means a lot, because i take major inspiration from you!! you make me feel so safe, welcomed, and loved on this app. i know i can always count on you and i really appreciate that. you’re literally my internet older sister and i love you more than words can describe!

@adorechris OLIVIAAAAA TWIIINNNNNNNNNNNN!!!! okay i know we knew each other long before either of us got tumblr but i freaking love you!! you were also the one that inspired me to download this app so THANKS for allowing me to no longer he a wattpad warrior…i swear we are the funniest freaking people on this planet i WILL DIE ON THAT HILL. i love terrorizing you in your inbox and making it seem like we are the weirdest people on this app. you are literally my best friend i cannot wait to see you! you’re so motivating and uplifting and you’re an amazing writer. i love you lots and lots! (john pork)

@strnilolover GABBY!! my tumblr day 1!!! you were my biggest supporter on my old blog and my very first follower on this one. your writing is so so freaking good and you have made me feel welcome on sturntumblr since day 1! you’re so kind and your themes always eat DOWN! i remember being so happy to make my first tumblr friend when you revealed you were the 🤍 anon. i love you to the moon and back !!

@zenithsturniolo ZEEENNNIIIIIIII!! you are so freaking funny. pls be a comedian. when we were talking about that stalker guy and you said “bitchass.. cracks knuckles” I SCREAMED LAUGHING. ok but seriously you are so nice and supportive and i love your silly comments on my fics! your writing is on another freaking level never fails to make me have to get up and do a lap around the room ! ilysm

@delilahsturniolo DELILAH!! okay we dont talk thattt much but when we do i love it!! you are so freaking sweet and i LOVE sweetheart!matt and barista!reader! your writing is insanely good i literally binge your masterlist every week..i’d love to talk more and i love you!!

@bernardsbendystraws rose!!!! we don’t talk much but when we do you are so kind and funny!! your blog themes always eat and i loooove all your au’s! also your dividers are so freaking cute. you were one of the first writers i started reading and taking inspiration from when i first started my blog. you are such a talented writer and i’d love to talk more!!

@sturnsblogs CEECEEEE!! you are so freaking nice and funny and you’re a baddie!! i love when you explode my inbox and you are so freaking supportive. i literally love you so much!

@sweetshuga ISAA!! we don’t talk much but ilysm!! you’re an insanely talented artist as well as an amazing writer which is so freaking cool!! also you’re literally so gorg. i’d love to talk to you more !

@oopsiedaisydeer INEZ!! i freaking love you. you pop out so many fics and each one is better than the last! you’re literally so good at writing every single genre like?? and you are so kind and supportive of me and i really appreciate that!! im so glad we’re friends and ilysm

@muwapsturniolo peaches!! we dont talk much but i freaking love you. your writing is immaculate like you just have such a way with words??? like?? you’re so talented and sweet!!

@luvs4matt CHERRYYYYYYYYYYY! you got me into dilf!matt. now i have an obsession. i’ve read that masterlist 20 thousand times!! you’re so sweet and funny and such an amazing writer and friend!! you’ve been very uplifting and i really appreciate that :) ily!!

@lilolebambi VIVI!! we also don’t talk all that much, but you also really got me into sub!chris/matt!! — bunny!matt is literally UGHHH i love him!! your writing is sooooo good like you’re just so good with words???? your themes are always so insanely aesthetic too! you’re so nice and silly anddd ily!

@cupiidkills kami!!! your bots are like insanely good and you’re so kind! like i don’t even care what the bot is about, if your name’s on it, im using it!! i’d love to talk more!!

@vanteguccir lele! LOL although we like just became friends, i have loved your writing since i got tumblr!! i literally love you and you’ve been nothing but kind and supportive to me. you are literally such a talented writer like?? not only is your smut insanely good but your fluff is also amazing!! like i love the tour content you’ve written and the tiktok trend fics! you’re so so kind and supportive and i hope we can talk more!!!

(p.s.) if you’re not mentioned above, please know that i still appreciate you so much. i see your likes, reblogs, comments—everything. whether we’ve talked once, a million times, or not at all, i’m genuinely grateful for your presence here. you don’t need to be on this list to matter to me. thank you for being part of this space and for helping me get to this point. i love all my mutuals and followers, even the quiet ones. <3

#cayleeuhithinknott #sturniolo triplets #caylee yaps a lot #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher owen sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #appreciation post #i love you #1k followers #yayyy!!!

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puppym3 · 6 months ago

Text

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

wc: 3.4k

warnings: MDNI 18+, fluff, humor, a lot of cringy but cute back-and-forth, changbin almost burns the house down, oral (f and m rec), overstim, ingestion of certain fluid, they're in love fr

a/n: me going through my inbox is just a way for me to delay having to finish my lee know fic :( BUT I ENJOYED WRITING THIS SM thank you anon i love u

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The kitchen smelled like ambition.

Or maybe it was just the faint aroma of something on the verge of burning.

“Bin,” you called, watching your boyfriend juggle chopping onions, stirring a pot of boiling water, and checking the oven. His brow glistened with concentration, his tongue poking out in that adorable way he always did when he was trying too hard. “You’re gonna lose control of this entire operation.”

“No, I’m not!” Changbin barked, glancing between the stovetop and the cutting board like they were part of a high-stakes mission. “I’ve got this!”

It was a bold statement for someone whose onions were uneven, whose pasta water threatened to overflow, and whose oven timer was blinking aggressively like a silent SOS.

You leaned against the counter, trying to contain a smile. After weeks of playful jabs about his limited culinary repertoire, Changbin had insisted he’d cook dinner tonight. Secret lessons with Chan and Felix had boosted his confidence, but clearly, multitasking wasn’t part of the curriculum.

“I don’t mean to sound dramatic,” you teased, eyeing the smoke wafting from the pan, “but I think something’s dying over there.”

He whipped around, panicked, spotting the chicken in the skillet that was quickly approaching charred territory. “Oh no, no, no!” Grabbing the spatula, he flipped the pieces frantically, knocking a spoon off the counter in the process.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore; you burst out laughing. “You’re trying so hard! Look at you!”

“Stop laughing!” he pouted, eyes wide and a little frantic. “I’m doing this for you, you know!”

Your heart melted. He was a sweaty, stressed-out, multitasking mess, but he was your mess. Crossing the room, you leaned over and plucked the spatula from his hands, gently pushing him aside. “Okay, okay. Let me help before we set the smoke alarm off.”

Changbin groaned, leaning his head against the cabinet in defeat. “I really thought I could do it all.”

“You can do it all. Just… not all at once.” You grinned, tilting his chin up so you could look into his dark, sulky eyes. “But you’re trying, and that’s so sweet. You deserve a kiss for that.”

Before he could protest, you leaned in and pecked him on the lips. His scowl melted instantly.

“And another kiss for being so cute while you’re at it,” you added, stealing another quick one.

Changbin narrowed his eyes, a mischievous smile creeping onto his lips. “Are you bribing me with kisses to get me out of cooking duty?”

“Is it working?”

“Absolutely.”

The kitchen forgotten, Changbin pulled you close, his hands warm against your waist. His lips found yours, softer and slower this time, his earlier stress dissolving into something sweeter. But, of course, it wouldn’t be Changbin without a little chaos, his foot accidentally knocked into the open oven door, jolting both of you.

“Careful!” you yelped, pulling back as he winced.

“See? I can’t even focus on kissing you without messing something up.” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head.

“Oh, poor baby,” you cooed, stroking his cheek. “Maybe multitasking isn’t your thing, but you’ve got other talents.”

“Like what?” His tone was skeptical, but his grin was boyish, teasing.

“Hmm, let’s see…” You pretended to think, tapping your chin. “You’re great at lifting heavy things, making me laugh, being ridiculously hot…”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Ridiculously hot, huh?”

"Mmmhm, especially in this incredibly sexy apron. And in general, actually." You reached around him, giving his ass a little squeeze. "This is also a good asset."

He snorted, pulling you close and nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And my incredibly tall height? What about that?"

"Oh, I've always been attracted to short sexy men."

You squealed, bursting into giggles as he began to tickle your sides. He lifted you off the ground easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him soundly.

"See, lifting heavy things," you said breathlessly as he lowered you.

Changbin set you back on the ground gently, his grin widening at your flushed cheeks and breathless laughter. “I’m glad my assets are appreciated,” he teased, his deep voice dripping with playful arrogance.

“Oh, more than appreciated,” you shot back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Adored. Worshipped. Cherished, even.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly against him. “You better not be saying all this just to distract me from cooking.”

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, leaning closer until your lips brushed his ear. “Because I’d rather have you focus on me instead of burning down the apartment.”

Changbin’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “Dangerous,” he murmured, his voice lower now, laced with something that made your stomach flutter. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

You tilted your head, brushing a kiss along his jaw. “Am I?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he turned, pinning you gently against the counter, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You know I’m bad at multitasking,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from yours. “So if you want all my attention, you’re gonna get it.”

Your teasing grin faltered under his heated gaze, your heart hammering as his hands traveled from your hips to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips met yours with more intensity this time, his earlier playfulness replaced with something deeper, hungrier.

The kiss deepened quickly, his hands roaming as he pressed you against the cool counter. You could feel the warmth of his body, the firmness of his chest against yours, and the way his lips moved with an urgency that made your knees weak.

“Changbin,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your lips, his mouth curving into a mischievous smile.

“You’re gonna forget about the stove,” you managed to gasp between kisses.

“Let it burn,” he growled, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, anchoring him in place as his lips found the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

You gasped, tilting your head back as he kissed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to send shivers racing down your spine. His hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm and firm as he explored the curve of your waist.

“You’re so distracting,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice tinged with mock frustration. “How am I supposed to focus on anything when you look at me like that?”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you shot back, tugging at his shirt.

He grinned, stepping back just enough to pull his shirt over his head before diving back in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. The combination of his warmth, his strength, and the way he was completely focused on you was enough to make your head spin.

Your fingers trailed over the toned muscles of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the way they tensed under your touch. “Ridiculously hot,” you muttered, earning a breathy laugh from him.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” he quipped, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

His hands gripped your thighs, sliding higher as his kisses became slower, more deliberate, each one drawing a soft sound from your lips. You tugged him closer, lost in the heat of the moment until—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You jumped, pulling back with a start as the smoke alarm screeched through the room. Changbin spun around, swearing under his breath as he hurried to turn the stove off, the chicken now burned beyond recognition.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing the pan and moving it to the sink, a thick trail of smoke following in his wake.

You hopped off the counter, hurrying to open the window, hoping the cold winter air would help dissipate the smoke. After a few moments, the beeping finally stopped, leaving just you, dying with laughter, reeling from the adrenaline and Changbin, standing shirtless and slightly embarrassed, surrounded by a cloud of smoke.

"So much for dinner," he muttered, shooting you a sheepish smile.

"I can think of something else we can have for dinner," you said, crossing the room and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's that?"

You smirked, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Something that you can put all of your attention into," you whispered, feeling him shiver as your words ghosted across his lips.

"And what's that?" he asked, his voice lower now, thick with the desire you knew had been simmering between the two of you since the beginning.

"Me."

"You sure about that? I might just burn more than the dinner if I focus on you."

You grinned, tracing the edge of his jaw with your finger. "Well, it’s not like you're any good at multitasking anyway," you teased, lifting your chin defiantly. "I’m sure you can handle me just fine if you give me your full attention."

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. "Oh, I’m about to give you all my attention, baby. Trust me, you won’t be complaining."

A flutter of excitement washed over you at his words, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Good. Because if I’m the only thing on your mind right now, I might just make you forget everything else… including that chicken you ruined."

"Forget the chicken?" Changbin murmured, his lips brushing against your neck as he nipped gently at the soft skin there. "What chicken?"

You sighed, your breath hitching as his hands slid down to grip your hips, his thumbs brushing over the waistband of your jeans. "You’re getting bold, huh?" you teased, glancing up at him with a challenging look.

"Bold?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping to a deep, almost sinful tone.

The air between you two grew thicker with tension as he pressed you up against the counter again, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more insistent, as if he was trying to imprint himself on you, claiming you in every way he knew how.

You moaned softly against his lips, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed under your touch. "Maybe you are good at focusing on just one thing," you teased, pulling away slightly, your voice breathless.

Changbin’s smile grew, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, sending a jolt of heat through you. "And I can assure you, you’re going to be my only focus tonight."

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your pulse quicken. His hands roamed lower, tracing the curves of your body as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing into yours as if he couldn't get enough.

You couldn't either.

You tugged at his belt, trying to free the buckle, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours. "You're not the only one who can get distracted," you panted, finally getting the stubborn thing undone.

Changbin grinned, his hands finding their way under the waistband of your jeans, squeezing the flesh of your ass and making you gasp. "Aren't you going to let me eat my meal up? You did promise me dinner," he teased, nipping at your bottom lip.

"Who says you're the only one eating tonight?"

"Oh, really? Is that a challenge, baby?" His hands were back on the button of your pants, quickly undoing them and sliding them down your hips. "Because if it is, I'm ready."

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, reveling in the way he groaned against you, the sound sending a rush of heat straight between your legs. "Bring it," you murmured, tugging at his belt loops.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you close, his hands firm and steady as he lifted you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, and your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly as he carried you into the bedroom.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, he was on top of you, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that had your skin buzzing with anticipation.

"Now," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Where were we?"

You arched into his touch, desperate for more. "Right about here, I think."

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That's right."

His hands were back under your shirt, sliding the fabric over your head before tossing it aside. You were already working on his buttoned pants, tugging the zipper down as he unclasped your bra, the garment quickly joining the rest of your clothes on the floor.

Changbin took a moment to admire you, his gaze trailing over your naked body, a fire in his eyes that had you aching for him.

"I'm definitely hungry now," he muttered, his voice thick with desire.

"So am I," you whispered, tugging at his waistband. "Take these off and feed me."

"Bossy." He grinned, quickly discarding his remaining clothes. "Is this better?"

You bit your lip, your eyes drinking in the sight of him, naked and hard and waiting for you. "Much better."

Without another word, he leaned down, his lips trailing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You shivered, a soft moan escaping your lips as his tongue traced circles around your clit, teasing you relentlessly.

Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to anchor yourself, but it was impossible when his touch was setting every nerve ending alight. His fingers parted you, and his tongue swirled around your clit, lapping at you in long, languid strokes.

"F-fuck," you gasped, the pleasure washing over you in waves.

Changbin smiled against you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he continued his delicious torture, his tongue exploring every inch of you until you were a whimpering mess.

"Oh my god," you panted, your back arching off the bed as he slid two fingers inside of you, his movements slow and deliberate.

"This tastes way better than any burnt chicken," he murmured, his breath hot against you.

Before you could respond, he curled his fingers, finding the sweet spot deep inside you and making you cry out. "Shit, right there."

"Mmm, like that, baby?" he asked, his tone low and teasing.

"Y-yes," you moaned, unable to stop the string of whimpers that fell from your lips.

He picked up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out of you while his tongue lapped at your clit, the combined sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair, your hips bucking as the pleasure built, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation.

"Changbin, I'm gonna—"

Your words were cut off by a loud moan as the orgasm crashed over you, his tongue and fingers guiding you through the wave of ecstasy.

You collapsed against the mattress, gasping for breath, your whole body tingling with satisfaction.

"God, you taste so fucking good," Changbin groaned, his lips moving over your clit in slow, lazy circles as he worked you down from your high.

"Wait- wait," you managed to say between gasps, tugging at his hair.

He pulled away, his eyes dark and filled with lust. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing, just- fuck, I need a minute," you said, trying to catch your breath.

Changbin's lips curved into a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint. "No can do, baby. I'm hungry, and you promised me dinner."

With that, he leaned down, his mouth finding your sensitive clit once again, his tongue moving with renewed intensity. You cried out, overstimulation making sparks shoot down your spine.

"Wait- fuck!"

He ignored your pleas, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue swirled around your clit, his pace quickening. Your moans filled the room, the sound echoing off the walls as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh my god, Changbin," you gasped, your hands grasping at the sheets, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

His fingers dug into your thighs, the pressure almost bruising as he pulled you closer, his tongue flicking over your clit, relentless and demanding.

"Changbin- I- fuck, I'm gonna—"

The rest of the words died on your lips, swallowed by the scream that ripped from your throat as the orgasm tore through you. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work over your clit, drawing the pleasure out until you were shaking and trembling beneath him.

"Holy fuck," you breathed, the room spinning as you struggled to catch your breath.

"That's what I like to hear," Changbin murmured, his lips grazing the skin of your inner thigh.

"Jesus, Bin, give me a second," you said, still gasping for air.

He grinned, sitting up and looking at you with a smug expression. "What's the matter, baby? Can't keep up with me?"

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. "It's just, I think it's not fair if you get to eat and I can't."

He tilted his head, considering your words. "I guess you're right."

"And you know what's really not fair? Not being able to take a breather after a mind-blowing orgasm."

"You're the one who said I should put all my attention on one thing," he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean like that."

"Hmm, I think you did," he replied, leaning in and kissing the spot right behind your ear, the one that always made your toes curl.

"You're insatiable," you whispered, your breath hitching as his hand trailed over the curve of your waist, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You pushed him back, not giving him a chance to catch you off guard again, finding your way in between his legs. "My turn," you smirked, running your fingers along the length of his cock.

His breath hitched, his eyes following your movements intently, darkening with desire.

You leaned forward, kissing the tip before taking him into your mouth. He let out a low groan, his hand tangling in your hair, his grip firm but gentle.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice strained.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan around him, the sound vibrating through your lips.

His grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let out a string of curses.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he gasped, his hips bucking against your mouth.

You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression making heat pool in the pit of your stomach. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, and his face was flushed with desire.

"Baby, please," he moaned, his voice low and raspy.

You continued to suck him off, working your tongue along the underside of his cock, reveling in the way he came undone under your touch.

"Fuck, I'm close," he warned, his fingers tightening in your hair.

You didn't let up, your hands gripping his thighs as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke.

His grip on your hair tightened, his hips bucking erratically as he neared the edge.

"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal.

You moaned, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He came with a strangled cry, his release spilling down your throat.

You swallowed every drop, your eyes never leaving his as you worked him through his orgasm. The taste was addictive, and you couldn't help but lick him clean, savoring every moment.

"Fuck," he breathed, his body trembling.

"See, that's not so bad, is it?" you teased, sitting back on your heels and licking your lips.

"Not bad at all," he panted, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

You kissed the tip of his cock, smiling up at him. "Good."

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me," he muttered, his eyes glazed over with pleasure.

You grinned, crawling up the bed and settling next to him, your head resting on his chest. "Good."

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're amazing."

"I know."

"And so fucking sexy," he added, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone.

"I know that too."

Before he could say anything else, you heard his stomach growl, making you giggle. "Maybe we should order some actual food."

"Mmm, good idea," he said, his lips curving into a lazy smile.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

taglist for my lovelies : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88, @honeyybbuubblleess

#stray kids x reader #skz #skz fic #stray kids #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids smut #changbin smut #changbin #changbin x reader #changbin stray kids #changbin skz #changbin imagines

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aesethewitch · 1 year ago

Text

Ghosts 101

Spirit work has always been the ultimate base of my spiritual and magical practices. Some of my earliest clear memories are of encounters with spirits, and I’ve always had a talent for sensing them. In a horror movie setting, I’d be that person who gets the weird feeling in the hallway right before all the doors slam shut at once, feeling the shift in the air before whatever ghoul’s around makes its mischief.

I mention this right out of the gate so that you, the reader, know that most of what I know about ghosts (and spirits in general) comes from personal experience. Not books, not videos, not other people’s work. There’s a lot of UPG in this little essay. Just keep that in mind as you read.

If there’s something you disagree with or have different experiences with, I’m not surprised! Everything in the realm of spirits, including ghosts, can really only be theorized about. Disagreeing opinions, experiences, and theories are very, very welcome. Drop ‘em in the replies, reblogs, or my inbox. Or, if you want, make a post of your own and tag me in it. I want to see them!

Anyways, with that lengthy UPG disclaimer out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff.

What is a Ghost?

I think it’s important to note, though kind of obvious, that ghosts are a sub-category of spirit. All ghosts are spirits, but not all spirits are ghosts. But what is a ghost, exactly?

As with most things, theories differ. In general, ghosts are thought to be… well, dead people. Some folks think that ghosts are the soul, essence, or spirit of a person who has died. Others believe that ghosts are just a fragment of a person’s spirit. But I’ve also seen theories stating that ghosts aren’t really ghosts, they’re echoes or imprints of human energy that once existed in a place.

Then, there are folks who think ghosts don’t exist at all. I can’t really blame them; empirical, repeatable proof of ghosts is tough to get in order to be satisfying in a scientific way. The only reason I personally believe in ghosts is because I’ve had several encounters that can’t otherwise be explained. Plus, for me, it goes hand-in-hand with other types of spirit work. Ghosts being real just makes sense with the framework I use to engage with the world.

So, obviously, there isn’t one single, concrete answer as to what a ghost is. We can only theorize.

My Theories

My personal theory aligns more or less with one of the more common theories. I think that ghosts are the lingering spirits of living beings who have died. Note I say living beings — some people think that only humans can become ghosts, but I think that any living thing can become one. In the case of plants and trees, ghosts behave somewhat differently than animals; but that’s a whole other conversation to be had. For the sake of this post, I plan on focusing mainly on human ghosts.

The way I understand it, ghosts are the whole, complete essence of a person that lingers in the physical realm for a time after their physical body no longer functions. I believe there are also energetic imprints — energy left over from the living, often (but not always) caused and fueled by strong emotions and lingering ties of memory in a place. These imprints can seem like a haunting, but the key difference is that they aren’t sentient. They may echo when you call, but they won’t give answers that are intelligent or timely according to questions asked or stimulus provided by the living. Sort of like recording a ringing bell; playing the bell’s chime back doesn’t ring the bell again. It just plays the sound it knows.

Now, death does funny things to the mind. Depending on the circumstances of the death, a ghost might have full awareness that they were alive, have died, and are now a ghost. I find this is most common for people who died of old age and long-term diseases: people who knew they were nearing the end, for one reason or another.

Ghosts formed from more sudden deaths, on the other hand, are likelier to not know what happened. They may figure it out given time, or they may never learn the truth. As with most other things dealing with individuals, the exact circumstances vary. No two ghosts are exactly the same. Some people don’t become ghosts at all, I’ve found! They simply move on.

Another important aspect of my theories on ghosts is that I think they fade. Unless they’re continually tied to a space, fed a steady supply of energy, and purposely kept in the physical realm, I believe that they can’t sustain a form here. Without a physical body to keep the spirit, soul, consciousness, or whatever we are, a ghost is gradually pulled into the more ethereal side of things. The astral plane, the other side, the afterlife, et cetera; I’m not sure, personally, where they end up. Maybe it depends on what they were attached to in life, maybe it doesn’t. Who knows!

I think this is where I draw the distinction between ghosts and ancestor spirits. “Ancestor spirits,” in my practice, aren’t individual people from my past. Rather, they’re a sort of collective consciousness made up of all the people who came before me who are connected to me through familial, cultural, and blood ties. I like to believe that ghosts become part of that collective when they fade out of the physical world. All this is to say, ghosts are just people who are dead. They won’t be around forever unless they’re bound and kept “fed.”

On Hauntings

The first half of the things everyone wants to know is: How do we know when a ghost is actually present? It’s a good question, one that’s hotly debated in ghost hunting circles. For the sake of argument, I think we need to define the word haunting first.

To be clear, a haunting isn’t just when a ghost is present. A ghost just passing through or lingering for a little while doesn’t necessarily make a haunting. That would be better described as a presence. A haunting, in my opinion, is a long-term, sustained presence of a ghost or imprint.

And the first step to dealing with a haunting is to determine whether the place you’re in is actually haunted. You don’t have to have super sensitive psychic powers to detect the presence of ghosts. Some folks might have an easier time of it than others, but anyone can learn how to discern when a ghost is hanging around.

It’s important to note that commonly-reported signs of ghost presences and hauntings are also symptoms of other issues like mold, electrical issues, pressure changes, carbon monoxide, stress and anxiety, noisy neighbors, animals outside or in the walls (including bugs), sleep apnea or insomnia, and more. It’s important to consider mundane reasons before leaping to magical, spiritual, or ghostly ones.

With that in mind, let’s say that you’ve ruled out all the mundane possibilities, and you’re still left wondering whether that place is capital-H Haunted. How can you tell?

In my experience, there are a few signs that will stick out:

Disembodied sounds, such as voices, knocking, and walking

A pervasive chill or prickling feeling, particularly on parts of the body that are covered

A feeling of being touched, poked, or prodded

Visual disturbances like mist or shadows

Sudden smells that can’t be explained, such as perfume, tobacco, or food

Batteries in things like phones and cameras draining very quickly

Now, note that even with these signs, a lot of these things can happen with spirits that aren’t ghosts. The only way to know for absolutely sure that you’re dealing with a ghost and not a mischievous, physical-realm-poking non-human spirit is to make contact and ask.

My fellow sensitive individuals may experience other signs during a haunting. Depending on where your abilities lie, you might experience stronger sensations or detect signs of a haunting earlier than others who haven’t trained these senses.

What Causes a Haunting?

It’s hard to say. Some people (particularly ghost hunters with big TV shows who need to make those viewer numbers go up) say that ghosts stick around because they’re pissed off or had some tragedy befall them in life. Trauma ties them to their surroundings, trapping them between life and death as a specter, or something like that.

Honestly, all that tells me is that these guys are trying to sell you something (their show). I’ve met maybe two ghosts that were like that, and they had extremely good reasons for it. That’s not to say there aren’t traumatized ghosts out there; just that they aren’t nearly as common or the only explanation for a haunting.

I’m personally not sure what causes some ghosts to linger over others. I think it does partly have to do with emotion, but it may also have to do with the amount of energy the person had left when they died. For example, the ghost of my great-aunt faded within a couple weeks after she died, because she was old, tired, and ready. On the other hand, the ghost of a guy I went to school with who died in an accident a few years ago is still lingering on the train tracks where it happened. It’s an extremely individual thing.

Another part of lingering ghosts and hauntings, I think, is interaction with the living. Without a physical body, the ghost has no native source of energy. Part of working with ghosts, for me, has been learning how to share energy (mine or from other sources) with ghosts to help them communicate, interact, and continue existing. When the energy runs out, they fade. With a steady supply of energy sources, a ghost could theoretically haunt a place indefinitely.

So, what causes a haunting? I don’t really know for sure! What causes a haunting to linger? A steady source of energy, I think.

Making Contact

So, you want to talk to a ghost. Cool! You’ve got a ton of options at your disposal.

There are the witch-typical methods of spirit communication, most of which would work fairly well for talking to ghosts. I’ve talked a little bit about spirit communication methods before in a more general sense, but I find that ghosts don’t always respond well to divination.

In my experience, simpler tools are better. Unless I knew for a fact that a person understood tarot in life, I would be unlikely to use it to talk to their ghost. Tools you can easily explain that provide clear answers would likely serve you best for most ghosts. My biggest suggestions are pendulums, which are easy for ghosts to understand and manipulate, and ouija boards. Yes, yes, I can hear the gasping and booing already.

Listen. Ouija boards are not evil. Ouija is a game. But talking boards really are good tools for talking to ghosts. Again, they’re easy to understand and manipulate. Plus, you can get really clear answers from a talking board if your ghost is chatty.

There are other tools that have been popularized by ghost hunters that may come in handy, too. Personally, I’ve had success with voice recorders catching EVP (electronic voice phenomena) and, on one notable occasion, a ghost box.

Honestly, I’ve had little use for tools like these outside of ghost hunting scenarios where we’re trying to prove ghosts’ existence in a scientific sense. Voice recorders catching wisps of voice in the background are super cool, and I definitely would suggest having one on hand when doing a ghost adventure. But they’re not great for in the moment communication, since you have to stop a recording to listen back to it and then react who knows how long later.

Where ghost boxes are concerned, I’ve only had the one opportunity to try it out. We were in a location I knew to be haunted thanks to previous visits, and it did seem to work okay. I’d like to try it again sometime to see if it was just a fluke or if it’s an actual, viable thing to use. With any tool commonly used in ghost hunting TV shows (or that’s otherwise Popular By Spectacle), I always approach with serious skepticism. Those shows are all about creating a reaction that can be captured; and when they don’t receive a response, they’re liable to make shit up for the cameras. It’s annoying, especially when a tool might really be useful but it’s shrouded in the very necessary skepticism around these shows.

Now, my personal go-to method to connect to ghosts is to just… talk to them. I don’t usually need to use any tools for it. But I’ve spent many, many, many years honing the skills needed to do this. It’s worth learning how to do if you plan on working with spirits, but it does take effort to get good at, even if you have an innate talent for it. If you can, take some time to develop a sense for spirits. Learn what spiritual presences feel like for you. You may not get immediate results at first, but the skill of sensing energy can apply across the board. And even if you get no “real” response, you can still talk to the ghosts.

When you go to communicate with a ghost, just remember that they’re still a person. They’re not a spectacle, though they are fascinating. Not all ghosts are going to want to talk to you. Not all ghosts are going to like you. Be respectful. Treat that ghost like you’d treat any stranger out in the wild. Don’t be an asshole.

On Mediumship

This is mostly just a brief note, since it’s an adjacent topic that I’ve gotten questions about before.

Not everyone who talks to or works with ghosts is a medium. A medium is a particular career or path that describes someone who acts as a connector between the living and the dead. I tend to think of mediums as the telephone in a conversation — relaying messages back and forth. I used to do medium work all the time. It’s an exhausting path that requires a lot of self-discipline and solid boundaries dealing with both the living and the dead. I don’t do it anymore, though I do still communicate and work with ghosts regularly.

Just keep in mind that you don’t have to take on the title or mantle of “medium” in order to talk to, work with, or research ghosts.

Ghostly Q&A

I received a handful of questions about ghosts in the run up to posting this; thank you everyone who sent in a question! If you’ve got a question and want my perspective on it, feel free to drop it in my inbox or in the replies/reblogs of this post.

From @moonmargaritas: “How do you tell the difference between nervousness at discerning the presence of a ghost (new practitioner who still gets jitters 🤙) and sensing actual hostile intent?”

This is a really great question! This is something I had to work through myself when I got started. And honestly, I still get jitters sometimes many years later! It can be scary, even when you’re used to it.

The biggest piece of advice I have is to learn how your body experiences nervousness or anxiety. Where does that sit in your body? What kind of feelings to you experience?

For me, nervousness is a sort of itchy tingling around my shoulders and tightness around my ribs. It also manifests as the feeling of being watched or observed too closely. It’s easy to misattribute those feelings to a ghost’s presence — tingling and feeling like something’s watching? Those are classic ghost interactions! But I know that’s what anxiety feels like. That’s how I feel when the lights go out too fast or I hear a branch snap in the distance.

Once you know, you can work past those feelings and focus on what’s actually happening with the ghost (or spirit). I think of it like knowing when someone’s mad at me. Are they mad, or am I just anxious? It’s the same idea.

And, as a note, ghosts with hostile intent are few and far between. I personally don’t think that most ghosts, even the nastiest ghosts, can actually hurt you; they don’t have the energy resources for it. The ones that do are obvious, and you won't really have to question their intentions. However, you can always work with the communication methods mentioned above to determine the ghost’s feelings and intents. If you’re worried about negative interactions, a bit of salt and rosemary in a little pouch placed in your pocket goes a long way for protection.

From anonymous: “What’s an unusual way people could use to communicate with spirits? Like an expected divination tool or something we should pay more attention to.”

Hmmmm! Honestly, I think that classic, actual call and response is underrated specifically when it comes to ghosts. Yeah, we’ve all seen the Ghost TV Guys call out for a knock or a word or whatever, but when they get a response, they wig out and don’t do anything with it. It’s annoying!! Because genuinely, saying “tap once for yes, twice for no” and asking questions is a really, really solid way to communicate with a ghost when you have no other tools that will work on hand. I’ve had ghosts lead me to important places and objects within houses doing this. I think more people should give it a try without falling prey to the over-the-top reaction of “DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

From anonymous: What advice would you give someone dealing with a haunting?

For a run-of-the-mill, regular old haunting? Let it run its course. Most hauntings, when left alone, will fade. However, if you’re inclined to talk to the ghost(s), get them to leave quicker, or get them to be less intrusive in your life, there are a few things you could do.

To talk to them, choose a method of communication and try to reach out like I described above. Get to know them if you can, and set some ground rules. If they won’t (or can’t) communicate with you, and you really want them gone, I would probably recommend a gentle banishing ritual. Something that doesn’t scream “get out” so much as kindly say, “It’s time to move on.”

Or, if you don’t want the ghost gone, just a little quieter at night or out of your bedroom, you could set up wards or activity-dampeners around specific spaces. Choose ingredients and spells that protect against unwanted spirits or just unwanted activity. Keep it activated all day long or just at night while you’re trying to sleep.

Thanks for Reading!

Posts like this are usually put on my Ko-Fi as exclusives first, but since the questions in this one came from Tumblr, I decided to post it in both places at once! (:

With that said, if you did enjoy this post, consider throwing a couple dollars at my tip jar. Tips, commissions, and shop purchases get you 30 days of access to my entire backlog of exclusive posts and upcoming ones. Monthly members get continuous access plus extra benefits! All support helps me keep the lights on, so it's very much appreciated.

If you've got Ghost Questions, shoot 'em my way! My inbox is open.

#aese speaks #spirit work #ghosts #talking to ghosts #hauntings #paranormal #witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #this post is Super Basic #it was going to have More Details but like. it was getting TOO long yknow #so. this is uhhhh part one #ghost post series

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grapejuicebrat · 11 months ago

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“Was it real or just for show?” TEASER

PAIRING: famous!harry x famous!y/n

SYNOPSIS: baby i just gotta know how long has this been going on?

NOTES: be nice english isn’t my first language and this is my first work! I personally recommend listening to this song while reading “How long” by Charlie Puth. If you have any thoughts or ideas, I'm waiting for you in the inbox. or just to talk because I'm bored. feel free to do whatever you want x

WARNINGS: smut but not really (maybe some hints, but nothing like that will happen cause i’m not in the right mood), swearing, flirting, kinda friends to enemies to lovers, kissing, harry and reader being stubborn. i think that’s all if you found something else comment please.

“Harry, how do you feel about miss Y/n?”

Harry already knew how to answer. In fact, it had been the first question asked at almost every interview Harry had attended for the past few months. Jeff always said it's good for PR because all the fans are sure you're dating. I mean, isn't it? You flirt with each other on social media, write comments to each other on Instagram and hint at some kind of relationship on Twitter. Sometimes it seemed to him that it was so. You're just playing the game, waiting for the other person to give in and confess their feelings. Harry remembers the first time he mentioned you in an interview talking about celebrity crushes. Fans literally went crazy when they heard your name. For another week, the Internet was buzzing with rumors that the famous singer was dating an actress Y/N.

Of course, he didn't mention your name for nothing. By this point, you've been talking for a few months, almost immediately starting flirting via text. Surprisingly, it never devolved into anything more than just sex jokes.

“I mean she’s an incredible actress, you know? Have you seen her new movie? It’s amazing. I already told her that I wouldn't mind playing with her in the remake of "The Notebook". Personally, I think that we would be perfect for the main roles.” he laughs.

“So we should wait to see your chemistry on screen, am I right?” asks the interviewer and Harry shrugs.

“We’ll see”

“Y/n, please tell us more about Mr. Styles”.

You laugh and playfully roll your eyes. It seems to you that you will never get tired of playing this game. You flirt with each other in public and in private when no one is looking. At the same time, you have never been caught by the paparazzi together somewhere in a restaurant or on vacation. In fact, it's because you never went anywhere together. Harry never asked you out and you didn't have the guts to even ask him out for coffee. You didn't have any contact that required you to play couple in public. Personally, you did it because it was fun. It's fun to read some news about yourself, where you are married or pregnant. It's fun to watch fan speculation that isn't true. It's fun to pretend you don't understand anything at an interview and talk in riddles.

“I have no idea who are you talking about”

“Oh come on! You do know who is Harry Styles. In his last interview he told us that he wants to do a movie with you”

“Ok, I'm just kidding. Harry is a cool actor and singer. He is very talented. Have you seen his latest movies? To be honest, I watched "My Policeman" three times. It's not every day you see Harry shirtless, you know. Therefore, I would also not mind playing in the same movie with Mr. Styles. If anyone is looking for actors for the main roles, give us a call!” you smiled, looking at the people in the hall. Apparently, many of them are fans of your couple, because when they heard the name Harry, they literally went crazy.

What you didn't know was that this innocent game of flirting would turn into a race of hate and love. Both of you will have to come face to face with your fears and anxieties. You will have to learn to live with mistakes and without people with whom you planned your old age. You will have to meet again someone who was once everything to you. And will you be able to say "Goodbye" again?

Patiently waiting for your thoughts

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #im scared #please please please #harry x yn

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ask-encore-ragatha · 3 months ago

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Hello, and welcome to my Ragatha ask blog!

In case you don't know who I am, I am the official VA for Ragatha in the Digital Circus reanimated project: TADC Encore. I've been voicing Ragatha for a while now, so I thought it would be fun to continue messing around with my impression in a fun and interactive way :).

Here are a couple of things to keep in mind in regards to this blog. Please read this over before you send anything!

Everything I say is obviously not canon to the series, and shouldn't be taken seriously. I also am obviously NOT Amanda Hufford and don't claim to be close to their level of talent, so this is all for fun! I will be using my personal headcanons for the character, as well as possibly some TADC Encore lore as well.

Going off of that, I am open to shipping content as well. My main ship is bunnydoll so I'm going to have a huge bias for it, but I will also entertain jesterdoll as well. I don't really ship Ragatha with anyone else, but I am open to exploring her relationships with other characters as well, even if they aren't romantic. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL OF MY SHIPPING PREFERENCES!

I am open to answering almost anything, but know that Ragatha may not be comfortable with certain topics being discussed in her ask box. You may not receive the answer you want, so be careful with what you put and how you put it! I've seen other Ragatha blogs be borderline bullied and harassed, and as much of a fan of angst as I am, try to keep it down to a minimum. We're here to have fun!

This blog is specifically for Ragatha, not Cass! If you have questions for me regarding the Encore project or about my voice acting/songs, you can ask my main blog @marinette-the-clarinet. Otherwise, I won't be answering any questions for me on here.

You can ask Ragatha to say/do things for you, but remember that this blog is in character, so she won't say yes to everything. If you want Ragatha to say something silly/out of character, I can do that for you on my main blog! I am open to saying anything in her voice (or another character's voice) as long as it's appropriate and ethical.

Kinda related to #5 and #3, but please be appropriate and respectful to both Ragatha and I. Suggestive content is okay since Ragatha and I are both adults, but please keep nsfw to a minimum since there are minors on the tag. Graphic triggering topics and harmful words/slurs will also not be tolerated on here, so expect your ask to be deleted and never see the light of day if you try that shit.

Please don't spam Ragatha's inbox. The limit is 3 asks a day, but I highly recommend not doing more than one. Tumblr only allows 20 audio posts daily (and that's with tumblr premium that I bought just for y'all btw), and I usually end up receiving more than that. Be patient!!!!

Don't attempt to roleplay with Ragatha as a canon character or OC. The only characters she will interact with are the other encore blogs, since they are in her universe. You all of course can interact with her however you'd like through the asks and the posts, though!

This may change over time as I start getting asks! I'm really excited to start giving y'all more Ragatha voice clips hehehehe ;). Please support the other encore ask blogs below:

@ask-encore-jax

@ask-encore-pomni

@ask-encore-bubble

@ask-encore-caine

@ask-encore-gangle

Feeling lost or missing some of the lore? Refer to this post to catch up!

Join our Discord server here!

#tadc #tadc ragatha #the amazing digital circus #bunnydoll #ragapom #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #ask blog #voice acting #tadc encore

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discordantwritings · 1 year ago

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Rock Hard (Rock Band!Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1. Prelude

Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist // The Drummer

Warnings: Slightly suggestive but that’s it for this first part!

WC: 2.6k

Summary: The Cross Guild is the newest rock band to hit the music scene and it’s three controversial members need a manager. That’s where you come in.

Notes: Part 1/5 of the rock band cross guild au is here. Nothing spicy in this part this is all just getting to know The Boys but do not fret, everything else will be just so much smut. This part has some similarities to my other cross guild fic but after this it’ll be a whole lot different trust me!

When The Cross Guild dropped their first single the music industry got turned upside down. A band consisting of three musicians who had been kicked out of the music label giant- Marines.

The lead singer was Buggy. Labeled an ICP wannabe by haters and the best clown ever by fans the flashy vocalist aimed to get a strong reaction- good or bad. Even if his wild style wasn’t for you no one could deny he was talented, which is what kept him with Marines for so long despite his many many controversies. Wild parties, fraternizing with fans, throwing knives at haters- if there was something crazy you could come up with Buggy probably did it. But somehow he always came out on top. You thought his string of diving consequences was over once he got kicked from Marines for good and had his band taken away but clearly you were wrong.

The second member was the world renowned guitarist, Dracule Mihawk. If you ask anyone who the best guitarist in the world was chances are the answer will be this man. Years of skill and talent pour through his long pale fingers every time he is on stage. But he’s not on stage very often. Coming in and out of retirement at the pestering of Marines- some remnants of a contract made long long ago- he graces the stage maybe once a year, shows everyone he hasn’t lost any of his skill, and retreats to his remote mansion. No one is sure why he got fired from Marines, but it was the same time that Buggy (and, significantly less importantly, you) got let go.

The last member was someone no one even knew played an instrument- Crocodile. Crocodile was infamous in the music industry. He produced the hit band Baroque Works under the Marines label until it all came crumbling down. There are thousands of rumors about what happened but all of them say that Crocodile was, in some form, stealing money out from under the label for himself. Baroque Works was broken up and Crocodile was fired but no charges were ever pressed against him. No one had thought about him for years until he appeared suddenly as the drummer for The Cross Guild.

All three of them were large personalities and with a history of not being team players the fact that their first song was actually really damn good was surprising. You didn’t consider yourself a huge rock fan but you couldn’t help but play the song on repeat. The drum beat was hypnotizing, the guitar melody filled you with energy, and Buggy’s vocals had you humming along and dancing in your room.

It helped your enjoyment of their music that The Cross Guild’s mission statement of sorts was to stick it to Marines. All three had some sort of grudge with that label and you did to. Of course you hadn’t been high up at all- just an assistant manager to one of the smaller bands- but you got fired in the same massive wave that had gotten Buggy and Mihawk. You never did anything wrong and were dumped without any warning. Living on cheap ramen for months as you scraped by on savings until you found another job filled you with an anger that gurgled up every time you heard one of Marine’s bands on the radio. But now you were given some counter to that and for that you were grateful.

All that is to say, you were a fan. So when an email pops into your inbox from Daz Bonez, the assistant to Crocodile, you nearly dropped your phone. Then as you read you’re sure you’re having some sort of vivid hallucination because it is an offer to interview for the position of manager for The Cross Guild. You never worked with any of the members when you all worked at the same label so how people like them heard of you is beyond you. After checking a dozen times that no it was not some sort of scam email you replied.

A week later you were taking an elevator up a sleek high rise to meet with The Cross Guild. It took you the whole week to pick out an outfit and the entire morning you have been willing yourself not to throw up from sheer anxiety. When the elevator doors opened you took a deep breath and centered yourself. You could do this.

You walk up to a large desk with a man you recognize- Daz, Crocodiles assistant- sitting behind it. When you walk over he stands up and greets you.

“Glad you could make it. They’re waiting for you in here.” He goes over to a door to the right of his desk and you follow a few paces behind, watching the broad man open the door and gesture for you to enter. You slide past him with a polite smile and do your best not to look star struck when you see three rock stars waiting for you.

Crocodile sits behind a large sleek desk, lit cigar in one hand while his other prosthetic hand taps on the desk. He’s dressed in the kind of outfits you always saw him wearing at the office, layers of fine fabric underneath a large fur lined coat. You wonder if he would wear the same thing on stage, or if he would strip down a few layers but you quickly cut off that line of thinking before it went too far. Three chairs are lined up across from him, two of which are occupied by his band mates. Sitting is a loose term to describe what Buggy is doing in the leftmost chair- perched would be a better term. He’s the first to acknowledge you, waving a gloved hand as you approach. He’s wearing a slightly toned down version of his stage costume, you know he always is in some sort of clown get up but it’s one thing to know and another to see a man dressed as a clown in an office building. As you approach the middle you look to your right and see Dracule Mihawk. He has on his signature long leather coat and a float white shirt underneath. You try not to stare at his slender fingers interlaced with each other in his lap as you hover behind the middle chair, slightly afraid to make eye contact with any of them.

“You can sit.” Crocodile says less as a question and more as a demand. You immediately slipped into the seat, doing your best not to shrink under his gaze.

“You worked for a few years as an assistant talent manager at Marines, yes?” Crocodile looks over a folder as he speaks to you.

“Yes I worked with The Vices for three years and floated around between bands for two years before that.” You answer, finding your rhythm and sitting up a bit straighter.

“Everyone said you did good work but you were fired. Why is that?” Crocodile finally looks you in the eyes and you feel your heart rise up to your throat.

You have a prepared answer. Creative differences, life choices, and any other neutral excuse that anyone gives as to why they got fired. But in this room, with these men, something else ends up coming out. The truth.

“I got no respect, and when I demanded it I was let go in a large wave of lay offs that they did to get rid of anyone that ever disagreed with them, even if that person was right.” You say in one breath, scared that if you stopped you’d lose your will. One of Crocodile’s eyebrows raises slightly and you can see out of the corner of your eye Mihawk sit up a bit more.

“Seems you have some opinions on Marines that we agree with.” There’s a slight tilt to his voice now, one that sheers off some of the gruffness of his tone. “I can’t say I really expected you to be so upfront but it’s a welcome surprise.”

“Did I come off as quiet?” You ask genuinely.

“A bit. But mostly people are afraid to speak ill of such a powerful company.”

“Well, I figured among the three of you with the history you all have that I didn’t have to hold back.” You’ve hit your stride now, sitting up tall and keeping eye contact with Crocodile.

“We do hate those fuckers.” Comments Buggy from your left. When you turn your head to look at him he’s staring at you, head resting on a hand propped up on the armrest. You almost lose your nerve but there’s a certain sparkle in his eye that makes you less intimidated- like you can read his temperament so readily that you would know if this was going downhill.

“Well it’s experience like yours paired with a dislike of a certain label that would make you perfect for the job.” Crocodile’s words drag your attention back to him.

“And the job being your manager.” You can’t help but confirm, a voice in the back of your head still gnawing away at your confidence.

“Yes the manager for the band. I know you don’t have direct managerial experience but you worked for a rather large band so this shouldn’t be too far of a leap outside of your knowledge.”

“And- I’m sorry can I just ask- why me? I know we all have a shared work experience but like you said, I don’t have experience managing a band on my own. I have no doubts I can do this it’s just- with star power like yours I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something here.” You certainly don’t want to end up as just a stepping stone or a fall guy, no matter how good it would look on a resume.

“To be quite honest-“ Mihawk speaks up for the first time- “Its because no high profile manager wants to work with all three of us.”

Well.

That makes sense. Considering the strong personalities and countless scandals between the three of them it’s no wonder no one wants to try and wrangle one of them- let alone all of them. You should be feeling a sense of dread over all this information, over being offered an impossible task. But instead you feel a fire inside you. You’ve been told over and over again by others (and yourself) that you couldn’t make it in the music industry and now, faced with three men who could destroy what’s left of your career or skyrocket you to the top. You’re going to take the risk.

“Alright, what are the hours and pay?” You ask with a smile. Buggy claps beside you and Crocodile gives you a wicked smile. Suddenly you get this feeling of being sized up like prey by him and while it should fill you with nervousness you can’t deny the heat that forms in your stomach at his gaze.

What follows is a few hours of paperwork and negotiation that all accumulates in more hours of work than you wanted but more pay than you could have dreamed of. A fair trade in the end, you decide as you sign off the last bits of paper making you an official employee. Trying not to feel like you just signed your soul away to the devil himself you smile wide and promise to be in bright and early the next day.

The next few weeks of your life were pure chaos. A whirlwind of learning by failing as you wrangled the three biggest personalities you had ever worked with. All of them were demanding and arrogant and frustrating that within a few days you were on the verge of quitting. But you didn’t. You buckled down, learned how each of them worked, and after a while got into a rhythm.

Make sure Buggy has enough attention and things to do so he doesn’t go searching for trouble. Make sure the music is up to Mihawk’s difficulty standards and keep the press away. And as long as all of the paperwork was turned into Crocodile on time you wouldn’t have any issues with him. It was hard work. You’d go home at crazy hours exhausted and get up way too early to start it all over again but you have to admit the work fulfilled you. You’ve been making decisions and leading in a way no job has ever let you before and you were doing a damn good job at it. And after a while those demanding, arrogant, frustrating men began to grow on you.

Buggy was fun to be around when he wasn’t whining. He helped you with press and made statements whenever you asked. Once you all got on a schedule he even stopped getting into drama, surprising everyone. Well, most drama. You didn’t miss the way his eyes would trail down your body or the way his hands would linger on you for a bit too long. A glare or two would shut him down for the moment but you found yourself not really hating it- and Buggy could probably tell. It wasn’t something you let yourself dwell on though. Buggy had quite the reputation for sleeping around so it wasn’t like you were something special.

Mihawk had been a difficult man to crack. It was hard to give him any direction at first, the man was surprisingly lazy when he wanted to be. But then you realized it was because there wasn’t anything interesting to him most days. He was a man at the top of his field so you worked hard to get producers who would give him music that at least engaged him and then he began to open up. You found out his love for old wine and even older books. You saw his soft spot for his personal assistant and wardrobe specialist, Perona. You found yourself having long, thoughtful conversations about the music industry late into the night. There was a sense of pride that you had for how close you’ve been able to get with the man- but not too close. You were a professional.

Crocodile was the most interesting one. He was the least into the music, you learned early on being a part of the band was a means to an end for him. But that didn’t stop him from being talented. You would catch him drumming on his desk while he worked, complicated rhythms mindlessly and effortlessly played. You made sure every bit of paperwork was always in order and ran every big picture idea through him. Buggy may be the vocalist- but Crocodile was the leader. It wasn’t often you got any sort of praise or even acknowledgment from the man but when you did you couldn’t help the way your stomached tumbled over itself. You’d have to stamp down those stupid feelings every once in a while, because when you’d let them linger they’d follow you home and into bed.

It was fine though, to indulge occasionally. When it was just you alone in your apartment you could fantasize that one of those men would pull you aside and take you home with them. Imagining Buggy’s mouth on you- Mihawk’s long fingers in you- or how Crocodile’s large body would feel caging you in.

It was fine because it was never going to happen. They were rockstars and you were just their manager. You would never sleep with any of them.

That is until you ended up sleeping with all of them.

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