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aurora-starwars · 4 months

Note

Oh my gosh your requests are open! I’m so hyped. Can I maybe request like a Dad! Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader where reader is just so much like Tsu’tey, stubborn and always spites him but they still get along? I can picture Jake missing his na’vi brother and his daughter is just him all over again. I mostly think of Ghost by Justin Bieber to be Jake trying to relive the short time that him and Tsu’tey get along.

Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Daughter!reader (platonic)

Summary: Jake can’t stop seeing Tsu’tey in his oldest daughter

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentioned violence, like one or two curse words

Word Bank: Kuru - Neural Queue; Olo'eyktan - Leader of the clan; Ikran - banshee, large flying animal; Iknimaya - rite of passage for the Omatikaya; Omatikaya - na’vi clan on Pandora; Pa’li - direhorse, horse like animal; skxawng - moron, idiot;

A/n: It has been a while, and for that I am truely sorry, life just kept sweeping me away. But I enjoyed writing this! Thank you for requesting! Please enjoy!!!!!!! <333333333333

Masterlist

As soon as she was born, her yellow eyes seemed to pierce Jake Sully’s just as Tsu’tey’s used to.

Born alongside Neteyam, [Name] bore the distinct features of the Na’vi. Kuru starting at the top of her head, prominent lack of eyebrow, three fingers. All features he should associate with his mate, Neytiri, the mother of the twins. But as Jake watches her grow, he can’t help but see his fallen Na’vi brother.

Jake thought it would fade away, that it was something from his past haunting him and his daughter didn’t actually look like the reincarnate of Tsu’tey at all. Besides, if he were to see Tsu’tey in anyone, surely it would be his remarkably Na’vi son, who bore many of the same traits of his sister. But as they grew, Jake and Neytiri both could see just how similar [Name] and Tsu’tey actually were.

It started early, when they were teaching Neteyam, Kiri, and [Name] to walk, a fairly simple and necessary step for any child. This didn’t stop little [Name], who was a little less than a year old, from being stubborn. Neytiri and Jake started by holding their arms, lifting them up onto their feet so that they could stand. When they could stand, they would let go, moving away slightly in hopes they would follow. The ‘they’ was just Kiri and Neteyam. When they tried to help [Name], she only swatted her hand away and pouted, giving the most hateful glare one could receive.

Regretfully, Jake laughed at this, earning a smack to the shoulder from Neytiri. How could he not have though? [Name] looked just like Tsu’tey like that, acted like him too. Jake smiled fondly at his oldest daughter, who soon after tried to stand on her own, feeling left out from her siblings.

Another time Jake saw Tsu’tey in [Name] was when he was teaching [Name] and Neteyam how to hunt. They weren’t very old, five or six max, and they still had a lot of learning to do. This, however, did not stop [Name] from trying to teach Neteyam how to use a bow, despite hardly knowing how to use one herself. It was day three of teaching the kids and [Name] was on Neteyam’s back about his posture. She kept hitting his belly, telling him that he had to tighten his muscles, hitting his arm, telling him to raise his elbow. While she was right, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, how many times did Tsu’tey mock and criticize his form? Too many to count.

By the time Jake came to the present, Neteyam had half-heartedly thrown his bow down, huffing in frustration before running up to Jake and hugging his leg.

“[Name] is making fun of me!” Neteyam’s weak voice whined.

“It’s not my fault you suck!” [Name] laughed, her small hands on her hips.

Ever since then, [Name] seemed to beat out Neteyam in every subject. In skill, she beat all of the young warriors her age. She was quickly becoming one of the best warriors of her age, of the clan! Jake was more than proud. Proud of not only his daughter’s success, but just how Na’vi she has become. Na’vi, just like the most Na’vi person he knew.

Tsu’tey.

No matter where she went, [Name] would always remind Jake of Tsu’tey. Remind him of when they got along. And when they didn’t.

Like the day after her Iknimaya.

Jake knew he shouldn’t be worried, she wouldn’t be alone, and yet he did not want her to go out riding ikran with her friends. Her friends where nice kids, all warriors like her, that he has taught, but she just bonded with her ikran, the bond was new, and he did not trust [Name]’s ikran just yet. He remembers Bob, it took a few days, at least a week for them to completely trust each other. He did not want [Name]’s ikran to get spooked by something and leave her for dead.

[Name] did not take this news very well.

She was just leaving their family home, a wide smile on her face, when Jake stopped her. He knew she was so excited to attempt her Iknimaya and was even more proud to have successfully bonded with her own ikran. That is why he was not surprised to see her smile fall, her ears pin back, and shoulders slump.

“What? Why?” she wasn’t unreasonable, if her father had a good reason, she would respect his commands.

“Baby girl, I have said you cannot go, do not argue with me,” unfortunately Jake was not great at communicating.

[Name] gave him a piercing glare, shooting daggers that seemed to wound Jake immediately. But he could not show it, would not show it. He is the Olo'eyktan, he must act like it.

But does not stop the pained look that washes over his face once she had walked away.

Later that night, Neytiri scolded him lightly for preventing [Name] from enjoying time kids her age for once, instead of taking care of her siblings or training. While Jake was still apprehensive about the situation, feeling as if his fears were justified, he felt his rules might have been too strict this time.

It was good timing for this resolution because not even an hour later, [Name] arrived back to the family hut, having been gone all night riding her ikran with her friends.

Jake stood up immediately, making his way to the entrance of their home, waiting for [Name]’s eyes to meet his. When they did, [Name] seemed to have more composure than him, he almost felt threatened by her eyes. As if he was the one to do something wrong, not her.

“Where have you been? I thought you were with your siblings?” Jake was more than confused, was she not just sleeping in her room with her siblings?

“Dad, we both knew where I was, no need to do this,” she did not seem angry, but she did stand her ground like the grown warrior she was becoming.

“Do not worry, Father. I have been watching the others,” Neteyam remarks, walking out of the Sully kid’s shared room.

He lays a hand on his father’s shoulder, “If anyone can go out alone on ikran and be fine, it is my sister. If anything, she was protecting the others, and you know they fight well.”

Jake smiles at his son, patting the hand on his shoulder. Jake nods, looking down as if thinking before looking back up at his daughter. He smiles at her, extending a hand, an invitation.

Her piercing gaze drops, her smile reaching her face again as she breaks out into a warm laugh, taking her father’s hand. Jake pulls his daughter and son closer, bringing them into his chest, where they rest their heads.

Later that night, all Jake can think about is how [Name] seemed just like Tsu’tey in that moment.

Tsu’tey patted Jake on the back, a harsh sort of pat, one you would give if you secretly wanted to do harm to the other.

“Jakesully, you do not understand our ways, you will never be one of us,” as much as his words sounded serious, with the smile on his face and the light tone in his voice told Jake that this was more affectionate than hostile.

Jake aimed his bow again, taking in a deep breath, eyes locking onto the makeshift target. He sucked in his stomach, raised his elbow and let go.

“Ah, pretty good,” Tsu’tey nodded, looking at the bulleye. “For a dreamwalker,” he teased, playfully smacking Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noted Tsu’tey’s smile was light, out of character for the Na’vi who usually wore a piercing glare around him. The smile was unusual but welcomed and only helped Jake prove to himself that he was, in face, becoming one of the people.

But what really sealed the deal for Jake, was when he assigned Lo’ak, Neteyam, and [Name] as look out for Lo’ak’s first mission.

He only let Lo’ak join because he had become awfully annoying with his pestering. Always on about how if [Name] and Neteyam could go, why couldn’t he? Jake figured that Lo’ak would lose interest or get too scared to do anymore if he let him join. How wrong he was.

Lo’ak was a pain in the ass as always, and Neteyam and [Name] were doing their best to keep him inline. The whole way to the checkpoint was full of non-stop chatter and jokes about how he was going to destroy the RDA, how he was going to beat them all up all on his own. [Name] though her eyes might get stuck with the amount her eyes would roll.

“Lo’ak, shut your damn mouth or I will tell mum what you keep in that basket in our room,” [Name] practically barks.

Lo’ak goes quiet, and [Name] can see the purple of his cheeks, even from where she is on her ikran. Neteyam smiles at her, and she takes that as a thanks.

The problem came when they arrived at the checkpoint, bombs went off, the train went off track, and Lo’ak decided he wanted a piece of the action, diving his ikran in the direction of the pa’li riders.

[Name] just held her hand up at Neteyam, telling him to keep on look out, and she dove to join her youngest brother.

When she landed, she found Lo’ak holding a gun, letting out a battle cry.

“Lo’ak!” [Name] came running, eyes dark and her ears pinned, straight for Lo’ak.

“Put that thing down,” she ordered, shoving the gun into someone else’s arms. “Today is not the day to be a skxawng, let’s go,” [Name] grabbed him by the ear and dragged him back to his ikran.

Jake watched this from where he was stationed, feeling a glimmer of pride for his daughter in his chest and a sparkle of deep annoyance for his son. But he was left little time to think before Neteyam warned him of an incoming RDA aircraft.

When they made it back to base, the three young warriors lined up, all three practically unscathed but their sisters still came and checked on them.

Jake looked into his eldest daughter’s eyes, he saw a warrior, a warrior that cared for her loved ones, one that did not take BS. He saw Tsu’tey. His na’vi brother. He looked into her eyes, yellow eyes filled with focus and determination, and he brought his hand from his forehead downwards in a smooth motion.

“I see you, daughter.”

Master-list

A/n: Thank you so much for reading! My requests are open so please feel free to request! <3333333

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @adrunkskeletonsduck @luvlykrispy @tainted-artist4161 @gamorxa @valentineheartzz @nighttimemoonlover

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meatonfork · 1 year

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HII I JUST READ YOUR BLOODY HELL AND I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO ONE WHERE THE READERS KIDNAPPED AND WHEN THE TEAM GOES TO FIND THEM THEY ALREADY KIMLED EVERYONE AND THEYRE JUST WAITING THERE CAUSE THEH DONT KNOW WHERE THEY ARE BUT THEY KNEW THE TEAM WOULD COME. IM SORRY IF I WROTE A LOT IM JUST EXCITED 💗💗

hello?? i’m so glad you liked bloody hell!! :’)

again, i’m still working on capturing everyone’s character, so PLEASE bear (🐻) with me hehe

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Cried for help, help came

pairing: platonic 141 x gn!reader

grim is back yall :’)

warnings: usual cod violence, blood, death, the works ya know

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your hands were shaking.

blood covered you from head to toe.

you were unrecognizable.

your wrists were rubbed raw from being chained to the wall. looking around, you honestly don’t remember how long ago that was.

the room reeked. death, blood, must. it invaded your nostrils, leaving no room for anything else.

you didn’t feel any pain. which seemed odd. you’d been here for so long.

how long was it?

a day?

a week?

a month?

however long it was doesn’t matter. you went through hell.

the room was dark most of the time. a single table with a chair was sat in the middle. in front of where you dangled. your feet had barely touched the ground. lifting your pounding head had been too much for you, so you let it rest against your chest.

“who the fuck are you” the man in front of you seethed. his breath reeked, but you still refused to talk.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. the mission was supposed to be in and out. easy as that. you guess the target had other plans. he’d caught you off guard while searching the building, efficiently knocking you out from behind.

you woke in a room you’d never been in before, panic immediately setting in.

when he didn’t get an answer, he lifted your chin. smooshing your cheeks in one hand, while a knife was grasped tightly in the other.

you were hungry.

so fucking hungry.

and tired. you could really use a nap.

“one more time, bitch. who are you.”

spit welled up in your mouth, and you spat right in his face.

he mouth turned up in a snarl, and he quickly sliced the knife over your right side. a hiss escaped your mouth.

this went on for what seemed like hours. questions thrown in your face, only for you to answer with silence.

the torture and the pain going on for longer until you ultimately passed out.

the next time you awoke, the room was pitch black, save for the light seeping under the door. you made quick work of loosening the ties around your hands.

the door opening made you flinch, and your eyes welled shut from the light suddenly invading your eyes.

footsteps made their way over to you, and you kept your head down. counting your breaths in your head, you waited until the footsteps stopped in front of you.

1 in

2 out

3 in

4 out

now.

with all your strength, you lifted your feet and flung them into the man’s abdomen, effectively knocking him to the ground. hissing, you wiggled until your hands were finally free and you dropped to the ground with a thud. your side was screaming in pain, and you were sure at least one rib was out of place.

the man got back up and threw himself on you. you yelped, and tried to slip out from under him. it was no use, you were just too weak.

he laughed at your weak attempts, and pulled a knife from his thigh. your eyes widened as he raised it above his head.

this is it. i’m dead.

he was too slow. just as he brought it down to go through your head, you jerked to the side. the knife pierced right below your collarbone, and you screamed.

you flailed your body, throwing your attacker off of you. as quickly as you could, you got up and flung yourself at him. with much discomfort, you pulled the knife from your shoulder and slit his throat. a small scream left his mouth before blood seeped through his lips.

movement by the door pulled your attention away from him. three more men stood in the doorway.

fuck.

the first man, tall and burly, but smaller than ghost, stalked toward you. a rifle sat in his hands, quickly setting his sights on you. you jumped for the table, pulling it down as a spray of bullets rained in your shadow.

a click was heard. he was empty. you leapt from behind the table and lunged for him.

knocking him down from the side, you put your thighs on his shoulders and snapped his neck. he was dead.

a shot rang out, and blinding pain hit your left thigh.

he fucking shot you.

you grimaced and rolled to the right. picking up the first man’s body, you used him as a meat shield. the thought almost made you throw up, but he was already dead. not many options.

sorry, dude.

the man was thrown off. you were using his teammate as a fucking shield.

pushing his body at your newest attacker, you caught him off guard. they both fell, and you used this time to go for the third guy. he was a lot closer than you remember, and you feel a dull thump thrown into your face.

a sickening crunch sounded from your nose. the metallic taste of blood ran into your mouth and you gagged.

fucking gross.

rebalancing, you looked up at him. his eyes held fire, and you didn’t blame him. looking to your left, just slightly, you saw the second guy’s gun. you leapt for it, feeling the presence of the man behind you.

you didn’t even look.

you just turned around and held the trigger.

he looked like swiss cheese.

oh fuck.

his body fell to the floor with a thump.

blood pooled the floor around you.

your heart was racing and tears blurred your vision.

you were gonna throw up.

you were too distracted.

a tug to your hair pulled you back, and you screamed in shock.

grasping at the hands holding your hair, you dug your dull nails into their flesh and drug your hands down.

a grunt was heard, and your hair was loosened. you spun and kicked his foot from beneath him, causing him to fall back. you ran the other direction but a hand held onto your boot, causing you to fall onto your arms. a sharp pain ran up your elbow, and you gasped.

looking back, you see menacing eyes and an ugly mustache.

ew.

you wind up and kick his ugly mustache as hard as you can. a loud crunch was heard, and he let go. cursing flooded your ears, and you crawled to the chains that held you up only a while ago. you grab them and turn back to fugly. wrapping them around his neck and pulling as hard as you could.

you watch as he struggles, but you don’t feel sympathy. his face turning purple and his eyes bulging.

his hands scrape at your arms, drawing blood. but, you don’t seem to notice. he finally goes limp.

you don’t let go.

you. don’t. let. go.

it seems that minutes pass before your hands grow too tired to hold him there. the pounding in your head is almost blinding, and you can’t seem to catch your breath.

you crawl over to the far corner.

they’re coming.

they’ll be here.

you don’t know how many times you repeat that before a hand is in your face.

a gloved hand.

a skull mask quickly invades your sight.

you don’t respond.

you hear talking, but can’t form any words.

“grim. grim, can you hear me?” ghost’s voice is softer than usual. his eyes aren’t as cold, and he seems concerned.

your eyes meet his. all you can manage is a nod.

“yeah. yeah, i can hear you.” your voice is scratchy after screaming and not using your voice for what feels like years.

“good. yeah, that’s good. are you hurt?” he knows you are. he can see it. your shaking form covered in blood and bruises. he can’t tell where you’re bleeding from.

“nah, im good. cant feel a thing, l.t.”

“shit. jesus fuck.”

“let’s get them outta here, yeah? place is a fucking bloodbath.” soap.

soap!

your eyes drift from your lieutenant up to your favorite mohawk sporting teammate.

“yeah, bird’s here. we’re good to go. i’m gonna pick you up, is that okay?” ghosts’s voice floods back into your ears. you give another nod before his hands lift you up and carry you out of the building.

your eyes are heavy, and the loud whirring of the chopper blades make your head scream.

your head rests on ghost’s chest as he rushes to the helo.

“kid, you gotta stay awake, alright? we’re almost there.” his voice carries panic, and you try.

oh, you try.

but the last thing you remember hearing is, “fuck! medic!”

when you come to, a blinding light makes you immediately shut your eyes again. beeping to the right of you floods your ears, and you let out a groan.

“fuuuuuck.” your throat is raw and screaming for water.

“you’re awake, here.” you open your eyes again to see price to your left holding water.

“how you feelin’, kid?”

“like shit.”

and it wasn’t a lie. your whole body aches. your face, your shoulders, your throat, your abdomen, all the way down to your toes.

“that’s expected. you took a beating, kiddo. the room looked like horror movie. couldn’t tell who’s blood was who’s.” price’s voice made your eyes well up with tears.

a hand being placed on top of yours finally makes your eyes drag up to his.

“i thought i was going to die, captain.” your voice was no longer sturdy, it was cracking. you were scared. you were just a kid.

“i know. i know. but you made it. really fucking impressive, kid. we’re all glad you’re okay.” he sounded emotional, and his thumb rubbed across your knuckles.

sniffling, you look around the room to see the rest of your crew passed out in the chairs to your right.

ghost manspread, knees hitting both gaz and soap who were situated on either side of him. his arms were crossed and his head was thrown back. soft snores escaped his mouth beneath his mask.

soap’s arm was thrown behind ghost’s chair as his head leaned on his shoulder. gaz was curled up, back to ghost. efficiently using him as a back rest.

you giggled and turned back to price.

“i missed you guys.”

“we missed you too, kid.”

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a/n: thanks for reading! and ty for the request! i hope this is everything you wanted and more :’)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #john price #cod x reader #cod mw22 #gn!reader #task force 141 #angst #thank you for reading #i love them sm #i dont know how to tag #grim au

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thania-keiji-gf · 1 year

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the type of boyfriend who likes reading a book but you're not. you are a cuddle bugs-lazy gf and he's smartass-introvert bf. it's perfect combination because most of the time you two will spended together by cuddling—ah i mean, you cuddling him while he reading book seriously. sometimes you also read with him, with head on his shoulder and your tiny hands also holding the page of books to avoid he turn the page before you finished reading previous page. cute.

"hey, i haven't finished reading the last paragraf yet :< hold on, for a second."

-> TSUKISHIMA, Kita, AKAASHI, Ushijima, SHIRABU, Sugawara, KUNIMI, OIKAWA, Iwaizumi

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oobbbear · 6 months

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Like a hug

#my art #afterland postal #the meaning behind this drawing is um Dolus can’t swim you throw him into water he drowns #yes that’s all #thank you for reading #water angel

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rdr2gifs · 2 months

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I often wonder what sets Arthur apart and makes him particularly appealing to me compared to other characters (in general). One significant factor lies in how he perceives and interacts with women. Arthur views women as equals, rejecting any notion that he is superior because they often do tasks traditionally associated with women, such as laundry and other chores.

He also never doubts capabilities of women like Sadie, who perform tasks usually associated with men. It's essential to note that one of Arthur's initial scenes with Sadie may be misinterpreted, as Sadie herself belittles the work of other women, not Arthur.

Arthur maintains healthy relationships with the female gang members, with none of them serving as a love interest. He sees men and women as equal, believing everyone should be able to walk their own path in life. He treats women with respect and he doesn’t expect any reward for his behaviour (sadly this is how many men seem to think even in the current time). He doesn’t see women in the gang as a cover (Dutch) nor like a liability (Micah). He sees them as people and valuable members of the gang.

Even in situations where he has to help women, he never considers them any less capable nor downplays their abilities.

Arthur's respect for women is also shown in his interactions with individuals outside the gang, such as the circus lady and the rich widow. After the circus lady thanks him for his help, he’s quick to say she would’ve been able to do it without him. He encourages her to pursue her dream in a so far male-dominated industry. He doesn’t look down on the widow, who doesn’t know anything about survival. He doesn’t tell her to go back to the city where she came from. He tries to teach her in a natural and encouraging way, never acting as if he was better than her because he has more experience. He patiently teaches her without any condescension.

He initially doesn’t understand why Beau even tries to stop Penelope from participating in the women's rights march. I like to think this is because he thinks everyone should be able to fight for their cause/what they believe is right. Not to mention he very much enjoyed riding with these ladies and wrote about his experience with fondness.

Arthur's journal entries reveal his disapproval of mistreating women, recognizing the injustice in an era when women had limited autonomy. “He treats his daughter like a possession to be mistreated and abused as he sees fit. Strange creatures men.” It was definitely not common for men in this time to be thinking about women's autonomy.

I don’t want to praise Arthur for things that should be considered the bare minimum but these qualities definitely add more to his likability. And it’s great to see where your favorite character stands on important things like this.

⚘ While acknowledging that Arthur's antagonistic lines may be interpreted as sexist, it's important to consider them as optional elements mostly implemented to make 13 years old boys feel edgy.

#analysis? sort of #thank you for reading #please try to not take this post as me saying john doesn't respect women or that arthur is somehow better than him #i am an arthur fan first and foremost and i'm only interested in writing about him #i don't feel the need to bring one character down to highlight the traits of another ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #don't even mention the ''i didn't know i was talking to a lady'' scene #to somehow prove ''arthur doesn't respect women''#she disrespected him first totally unprovoked for no reason #my gifs #it was totally deserved #rdr2 gifs #text post

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ineffableteeth · 6 months

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Just a reminder Crowley and Aziraphale are going to be apart for at least 3 more Halloweens

#thank you for reading #I’m not sorry #I’m gonna go cry now #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowphale #gay omens #aziraphale x crowley #good omens crowley #good omens aziracrow #aziracrow good omens #crowphale good omens #good omens crowphale #aziraphale loves crowley #crowley loves aziraphale

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miyu-d · 5 months

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Ace with the tailor reader part 2

A/N: @boomboom-tanjiro2019 it made me so happy when you requested a part 2. Here it is. I'm sorry it took me some time. Hope you'll enjoy this...

[ Part 1 ]

Everyone was so happy about Ace's arrival and threw a party to celebrate. They were talking and laughing so loudly when you went there after finishing your work. It was more lively than other days. Chopper was showing his chopstick dance to Ace, and he was laughing at it. Then Sanji came out of nowhere and served you a drink.

"Neeehhh~ Y/N-chwan! I brought you your favorite..."

"Thank you, Sanji-kun." You smiled and took the drink.

When you gave your attention back to Ace, he was already looking at you, resting his chin on his hand. A spark ran through your body, and your legs felt a little numb when you saw the way he was looking at you. A small smile curled in the corner of his mouth. His eyes were talking, looking deep into your soul. That moment was so intimidating; you felt time had stopped, and only two of you were in the room. You looked back into Ace's eyes with the same passion, subconsciously. Only a few seconds passed, but it felt like forever.

You snapped out of it when you heard Chopper screaming and yelling. Both of you immediately broke the eye contact and looked at him. You got relaxed for a moment when you saw it was nothing serious, just Luffy playing with Chopper.

But you didn't have the guts to look back at Ace again. You walked towards a seat in the corner, hoping no one else saw what happened between you and Ace.

(Actually, only Robin saw it. She giggled a little to herself and went back to reading her book.)

At night, you went to the spot on the ship where you loved to sit and draw new designs while enjoying the sea breeze. You kept thinking about what kind of outfit you could make for Ace. Even though you had so many ideas when you first met him, now you can't imagine him wearing anything other than his significant outfit—no top, just a short with some accessories.

You leaned back more comfortably and looked out at the calm sea. After a few minutes passed, you let out a huge sigh and opened your sketch book. You felt the presence of someone, so you lifted your head up and looked. You saw Ace watching you, leaning over the railing.

"How long have you been there?"

"Not so long," Ace said, slowly walking towards you. "So... what are you doing there?"

"Nothing special. Just... trying to design some new clothes, I guess..."

"Can I see?"

He was really interested in it. So you showed him your designs and explained them to him. You had no one to talk to about this before. So you enjoyed telling him everything. You talked his ears off. Ace also enjoyed listening to your ramblings. He shared his thoughts about them too... You two became more comfortable with each other.

"I don't like this one."

"Whaaaaaaat?? That is one of my favorites."

"But it's too plain."

"That makes it more elegant."

"Add some sequins or something."

"Nope. Not gonna happen. This is perfect."

Ace gave you a pouty face. He sat down on the floor and started to mutter to himself.

"Oh, come on, Ace~" You also went and sat down next to him. "Fine, I will design a new dress the way you want. So leave that one alone. Okay?"

He stayed pouty.

"Okay?" You peaked to see his face. "Hmm?"

He kept hiding his face from you.

You signed and gave up on pestering him. You leaned on your back and looked up at the sky.

...

"Why do you care about it anyway? Do you want it for your girlfriend or something?"

"What? No!! I don't have anyone!!! It's just..." He blushed and looked away. "I thought it would... look good on you that way."

"Maybe... maybe that plain one, that one you called elegent, or something is also... look good on you."

He gave you a quick look, checked what you were wearing, and looked away again. "That one also looks good on you.."

Ace was so flustered. "Anything looks good on you." He was really a flustered mess.

You tried your best not to laugh. You wondered where that cool and firm Ace had gone. But you loved this side of him more.

You slowly put your head on his shoulder and whisper, "I think anything looks good on you too."

He slowly tilted his head and looked at you. You smiled at him. He blushed and looked away. You couldn't help but chuckle.

You had no idea how you got the confidence to act like this, taking the lea and all. But somehow, you could.

"Let's go" You pulled him by his hand and started walking.

"Where are we going?" Ace let you pull him and followed you.

"You are my new and first fashion model. I'm gonna make you the best outfit ever. (Y/N)'s designs, special edition, one and only, only for you, Ace collection, first outfit."

Both of you chuckled and walked to your sewing room, holding hands and swinging them back and forth.

Masterlist

#Sorry if you felt cringy while reading this 😂#i have my final exams in a month and my head is a mess #Thank you for reading #one piece x reader #ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d. ace #one piece #op #one piece x you

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 6 months

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🎃 Friday the 13th 🎃

Happy Friday the 13th!! Why not celebrate with our boy, Jason Voorhees? This is pre-zombie Jason, which going by the canon of the films, means that he is sexually active (a rapist)

Knife Play CW: Non-con, knife play, minor character death, stalking, mild reader injury, blood, brief urine mention, Jason Voorhees x GN!Reader ❤️

(Reader) didn't know how long they had been running for. The muscles in their legs burned and it felt as though their rib cage wasn't large enough to take in the amount of oxygen required for their escape. Everything was on fire and their exposed skin was littered in cuts, but they couldn't stop. Even taking a second to catch their breath would disrupt the momentum and (Reader) would lose the adrenaline propelling them through the woods.

All of their friends were dead. They had gone to Camp Crystal Lake to set it up for the upcoming summer, and (Reader) had been looking forward to working with children. But in less than a day, all of the young adults preparing the camp were picked off one by one. (Reader) had woken up to the sound of Jennifer's screaming as her life was cut short, her body stuck to the side of the cabin with arrows.

The exhausted (Reader) sprinted blindly through the dark, not knowing where the road was, only aiming away from the camp. They wore a t shirt and pajama shorts, so the branches and brambles sliced open paper thin cuts across their arms and legs, stinging as their sweat dripped into the fresh nicks.

An axe suddenly swung in front of (Reader's) face, barely missing their nose as it lodged into a tree they were running past. On reflex (Reader) threw themselves back, landing hard on their ass and shuffling backwards from the weapon. The man with the sack over his head emerged from behind the tree, yanking the axe out of the wood easily.

"No, no, no!" (Reader) begged, knowing that their sobs were in vain. "Please don't, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!"

The man stopped, looking down at the person below him through his single eye hole. (Reader) didn't know if he was pausing out of confusion, pity, or amusement, but they continued pleading, praying it wasn't the latter.

"I'm so sorry! You-you're Jason, right? These are your woods? I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, please don't hurt me!" Tears and snot dribbled down their contorted face, blurring their vision and suffocating them as they choked on their sobs.

Jason's head subtly dipped as his eye traveled down from (Reader's) face to their bare legs painted in tiny scabs. The heavy axe fell from his hand, planting next to him in the soft dirt.

But before (Reader) could breathe a sigh of relief a hunting knife was pulled from his back pocket. (Reader) tried to scoot away faster, but Jason was on his knees, straddling their legs before they could shimmy away.

The cold metal of his blade gently tickled (Reader's) thigh. It's tip was pressed against their skin only enough to feel the scraping against their goosebumps, but not enough to draw blood. Jason raised it up to their shorts, the sensation causing involuntary shakes across (Reader's) body. They whimpered in fear, but it seemed to be misunderstood by the murderer. The knife traveled from the outer part of their left thigh towards the middle, sliding up under their pajamas until it poked the front of their underwear.

(Reader) cried out, too frightened to move with the sharpened blade so close to their genitals.

In one swift movement Jason sliced through their bottoms, cutting in open and revealing (Reader's) urine soaked undergarments. He brought the knife back down into the underwear, peeling it off their wet body to examine the humiliated victim.

A blood and dirt crusted finger caressed (Reader), rubbing across their sensitive organ. (Reader) squeezed their eyes shut, unable to stop themselves from convulsing. His calloused touch sent unwanted shocks through their nerves.

Their hands flew to his face unintentionally, lashing out like a cornered animal, but all that resulted in was a punch to the face, breaking their nose under his fist and recoiling back into the earth.

Jason held the knife against (Reader's) throat, warning them against thrashing about. Searing pain bloomed across their neck as the sharp edge pierced their skin.

He didn't prepare their hole, pulling his pants down far enough to reveal his erection, and tore (Reader's) underwear off, throwing it unceremoniously into the forest.

(Reader) couldn't contain their blood curdling scream as his cock entered their body, the only lubrication for their unprepared hole was their piss from (Reader's) earlier accident.

The knife dug deeper into their flesh, holding them down to the ground as Jason began fucking them.

It felt like they were bleeding down below, but they couldn't see anything past the shiny blade. (Reader's) horrified eyes could only see their own terrified reflection.

His thrusts turned erratic and her began grunting as he approached his climax. Wet sounds of precum and blood filled the night air as his heavy balls slapped against (Reader's) ass. Each thrust forced the entire length of his member into (Reader's) body, grinding his pelvis against their's painfully, bruising the front of (Reader's) hips.

Then, his whole body trembled, spasming against (Reader) as he reached his orgasm. The knife finally left (Reader's) body as Jason stood, his cock twitched as a few more pumps of hot fluid spilled out, splattering across (Reader's) stomach.

'Is this it? Am I going to die now?'

(Reader) clenched their jaw, prepared to be put out of their misery. They accepted their fate.

But, to (Reader's) surprise and horror, Jason buttoned up his pants and grabbed (Reader) by the leg, dragging them through the woods.

"Wait, no! Please stop!" They whined, finally finding their voice again. However, it seemed that Jason had plans for them. He continued on his path, bringing his new friend home to meet his mom.

#kinktober #friday the 13th #happy Friday the 13th!!!#cw noncon #cw knife #cw blo0d #jason vorhees x reader #pre zombie jason voorhees #bad writing #thank you for reading #not proofread

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arcielee · 1 year

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Just a World Away

Summary: Modern!FemaleReader has a choice to make. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 4021 Warnings: Smutty smut, oral (male a receiving, female receiving), sexual themes, dubcon, possessive Aemond (since you all loved it, but you can call me kettle). Author's Note: Here it is, the final part! It’s a bit longer than the others, but we had a lot of shit to unpack. Thank you @f4ll-for-you for all of your help! And thank you, my dear thirsty readers, I really appreciate all the reblogs and all the comments on this series. I just adore all my Tumblr kindred spirits. ♥ Tags (kindred spirits): @glitterandgoldfinds @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @fan-goddess @welcometothelioncage @hueanhdang @sahvlren @heavenly1927 @missusnora @lemonivall @iiamthehybrid @sirenofavalon @hb8301 (slash through means Tumblr is still betraying me and I cannot tag you, but expect a DM) Series: Call It Dreaming

When morning came, it took you a moment to place where your head was resting.

At first you could feel the warm thrum of a heartbeat and your eyes fluttered open; the touch of bare skin was comforting and you felt a sense of serenity with the arms that wrapped around you with a hold that hinted that a lesser grip and you would be lost.

Aemond Targaryen and his charred, warm and woodsy musk.

The early morning light streaked through your window, the lighting allowed you to admire the definition of his torso and the silver streaks of scars across his hard chest. You were careful when you moved your arm, your fingers gentle as they trailed the planes; his chest expanded with a deep breath and he rolled to his side, pulling you closer still, placing his chin on top of your head and a low hum vibrated from the back of his throat.

This new position allowed you to feel him intimately and you began to burn as his hardness pressed against your stomach.

You tilt your face up into his neck, pressing your lips on the juncture of his jawline to his neck with slow kisses. He shifted and growled your name, half asleep still. “That tickles.”

You grin into his neck, pushing him to roll on his back and straddling his abdomen, leaning forward to find his lips. His kisses are gentle, with one hand cupping the back of your neck and his tongue ran your bottom lip before he nipped it.

You pushed backwards on his body, careful to press the heat pooling between your thighs against the underside of his cock and he groaned in response, pushing himself to sit upright and hold you in his lap.

As his mouth latched and sucked on the curve of your neck, you struggled to control your giggles as you reached behind him, piling the pillows up. “What are you up to?” He hummed, nestling into the other side of your neck, his tongue tasting you.

You did not say anything, instead pressing your palms on his chest and pushing him until his back was against the pillows stacked. Your lips trailed his body, stopping to kiss his scars, your tongue trailing one side of his Adonis belt, and finally you tucked yourself between his legs, peering up to see his brow was raised and the hint of a smile curled onto his lips.

His cock was swollen, the head a flushed pink that glistened with precum. His gaze did not leave you and you slipped your hand so the back of it rested on the silver patch that trailed a thin line upwards to his bellybutton; you returned his look and leaned forward to drag your tongue flat on the underside, tasting yourself, and up to the tip.

He groaned and his hand moved to the back of your head as your lips wrapped around and you started a slow bob, allowing your saliva to lubricate as you take him, inch by inch, in your hot mouth.

You gag when he hits the back of your throat and you feel him arch his back with another guttural groan. “Mazemā nyke sīr sȳrī,” You take me so well, he praised you, his voice low.

Spit began to dribble from both corners of your mouth and pooled at the base of his cock; you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, using the spit for lubrication as you synchronized the movement of your grasp and your mouth. The motion allowed him to be swallowed and you hollow your cheeks to tighten the suction; his hand grabs a fistful of your hair and you moan around him.

“Kessa,” he growled. “Sepār raqagon bona. Sȳz riña.”

Yes, just like that. Good girl.

Your other hand holds on his hip and you shift your weight, focusing on the motion and mindful of your teeth; your tongue flattens the underside and runs the length of him and back. There is the prickle of tears in the corners of your eyes, but you can feel him pulsating and know he’s close.

His grip on the back of your head holds you down for a moment, your nose pressed into the silver hair nested above; you pause a moment and then flit your tongue back and forth the base of his cock. Another groan drags from the back of his throat with his release, a hot stream of cum goes into the back of your throat and you become relentless with his release, your head moved to lick every drop of him.

“Iksā va jāre ossēnagon nyke!” He groaned again. You are going to kill me.

You stop, wiping the corners of your mouth and he grabs you to crush you against his chest again; you lay against him, listening to his heart and waiting until it paces itself. “You seem so pleased with yourself,” he commented with an exhale.

“I am, my prince,” you grinned in return.

His head turned and his fingers caught beneath your chin. “My name is Aemond,” he said. “You should remember from how you have screamed it prior.”

His comment made your face burn and a smile hinted again as he pushed away from you. “Or must I remind you…?”

Aemond was both a prince and gentleman, you have decided as he nestled between your thighs. His slender fingers remembered every sensory pressure point of yours and his tongue diligent and able to find your pearl with efficiency. You came undone, tears streaming your cheeks, and he kissed the insides of your thighs, which caused you to jump.

“You seem quite smug yourself,” your voice is breathless and you can see how his cheeks dimpled with his smile.

Eventually, you leave the bed; you scrounge through your closet and find an old pair of grey sweatpants left behind and the largest shirt you had to best fit his long, lithe abdomen. He hummed his appreciation when you combed through his silken locks and took care to twist it into a low bun. He accepted the beanie you presented him without complaint and followed you into the kitchen.

You helped him decide on a cereal to hold him over while you cooked breakfast. At first, he leaned on the kitchen bar, propped on his elbows to watch you pull a clean bowl from the cupboards, followed by a collection of boxes that you set on the counter.

“What is that?” He had asked.

And you did your best to explain the concept of breakfast cereal to him.

“It is to be eaten with milk?” His brow furrowed.

“Yes, but we are lactose friendly,” you add, meaning you and your roommates. “So we mostly use almond milk.”

His lips had the slightest curl to them. “Milk from almonds?” But Aemond was willing to try, pushing from the counter and coming up behind you to pick up the first box. “Honey Nut… Cheer-ee-os?” He attempted the word.

You struggled to hear him, your face flushing from him being pressed against your backside. “It’s Cheerios,” you correct him, almost choking on the word.

Aemond was all too aware of your visceral response to him and he leaned forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, his arms caged you in as he picked up the next box. “Cinnamon Toast Crunch?” He said it like a question, his eye flitted over the cardboard. “The printed nutrition for this item shows it is mostly sugar…”

You giggled and twisted to face him, your lips brushing his chin. “You should try Cheerios, it’s probably the only thing cereal-wise with the least amount of sugar. It can hold you over while I cook us something.”

“You can cook?” He sounded impressed, pulling away and returning to the kitchen bar, seating himself on one of the stools.

“It’s a quality needed in my world to survive,” you grinned as you poured the almond milk over and walked back to place the bowl in front of him. “Eat, my prince,” your voice is low and he smirks, grabbing the spoon.

There was comfort in the simple action of frying some eggs and slices of ham, listening as Aemond munched away. You steal a look and find he was just watching you, his one sapphire eye and one lavender eye locked on your every movement; the blood rushes to your cheeks with your smile-

“Oh, good morning,” the singsong voice of Emma interrupts and you both look to watch her shuffle into the kitchen, wearing an oversized shirt and some shorts. She stops to pull out a pitcher of iced coffee from the refrigerator and the creamer.

“Is this the late night guest?” Miguel was next to follow in. “Pour me a mug.”

“You know I cannot reach the mugs,” Emma made a face.

“Oh, right, well then move,” he nudged her with his hip, reaching to grab two mugs from the top shelf and Emma turned back to the kitchen bar.

There was a moment of silent, exchanged looks as Aemond finished his last bite, pushing back from the bar and placing the bowl in the sink. You finished plating and he reached to take one, leaning forward to press his lips against your cheek.

Your cheeks flame when you realize your roommates were still watching, though Aemond just returned to his seat. Miguel finally just shrugged, “So, are you going to introduce us…?”

The blush envelopes you further as you follow to sit next to him, gripping your own plate. “Yeah, sorry, so rude of me,” your words feel rushed as you hand him some clean silverware. “Emma, Miguel, this is Aemond, my… friend,” you decide on the word, your face even a shade deeper. “He came in on a late flight to surprise me.”

“Well,” Miguel mixed the creamer in both mugs, dropping the spoon in the sink and handing one to Emma. “Cheers to having such a good… friend.”

You avoid Emma’s look, who was smiling like she was suppressing a smirk. “So nice to meet you, Aemond.”

Aemond hummed, nodding his head and was quick to swallow his bite. “A pleasure to meet you both,” his tone was polite.

You managed a weak smile and looked at Miguel, “Um, his luggage was lost. Is there something he could borrow…?”

Miguel raised his brow but disappeared into his room for a moment. You then hear Emma ask, “So, Aemond, what brings you to the area?”

Your attention snaps back to them. “He is thinking about transferring to our campus,” the lie was quick to your lips, your eyes wide when he peered at you.

“Oh, yes,” he adds, his voice flat with his delivery. “It seemed like an adequate institution and she promised to give me a detailed tour of all its facilities.”

You nod, relieved when Miguel returns with an armful of clothes. “I had to guess your aesthetic,” he placed the folded clothes on the counter and Aemond pushed to stand, cleaning up your plate and his own, bringing them to the sink. “A hipster flare is my guess? But with your complexion, I was thinking darker tones-”

“Yes, perfect,” you are quick to grab the clothes. “Thank you. Uh, what do you guys have planned today?”

Miguel perked at your words, “Oh, are you inviting-?”

“No,” you stop him. “Just calibrating schedules. For, uh, private time.”

“Private time,” Emma called from the kitchen. “With your good friend.”

You grab Aemond’s hand to pull him into the bathroom, leaving your giggling roommates behind; you show him hot and cold, as well as where the soap, shampoo were and he hummed his understanding. Just as you tried to leave, he grabbed your elbow to offer, “Perhaps you want to join me…?”

You decline with a pained expression, only because you knew full well your roommates still lingered in the apartment and, instead, you returned to your room, breathless and your mind whirring over what was happening.

Aemond Targaryen is in your world right now. His perfect physique is showering in your bathroom and using your toiletries… your face flushed again and your hands held your face. How long would this even last? Or was this a result of the stressful semester finally breaking your psyche?

The constant linger in the back of your mind, did you tell him about the pregnancy test?

Instead, you get dressed, changing into some black leggings and an oversize sweater that would be perfect with the beginning of Autumn. As you pulled your boots over your socks, Aemond walked into the room.

Your breath caught in your throat: he was wearing black joggers and a grey shirt that fit across his chest and shoulders, with the jean jacket slung over his arm. You bite the inside of your bottom lip and guide him to sit on your chair, taking care to towel dry his hair and twist into a low bun; you hand him a corduroy cap. “For discretion,” and you gesture wearing it low to bring less attention to his sapphire eye.

I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want this to end.

He hums and pulls it on, his gaze falling to your wall where your artwork was pinned. He peers back at you with the curl of his lips, noticing the subject drawn.

Himself.

Your face flames again but his voice is soft with his compliment. “This is how you perceive me?” He asked, reaching and touching one. You nod mutely. “These are very good.”

“Thank you,” your throat is so dry, it is almost a squeak.

“Are you an artist?” His tone does not mock you, but is a generous inquiry.

You scoff and quickly add, “I wish it was, but I am on a pathway to some state job and a lot of debt.”

His brow quirks at your words and you reach for his hand. “Nevermind. Let me give you a tour,” you offer and he follows. “And you can explain how you are here.”

The day is spent exploring the campus; you show him the buildings that arch upwards, the campus community where you stop to grab a drink, smiling when he tentatively sips at the tea the barista prepared for him. You bring him to the art museum where students have their end of semester projects on display and his free hand interlocks his fingers with your own as you both take your time to look over the artistry.

“Which one is yours?” He whispered in your ear.

You blushed again as his question fans his breath on your cheek. “Oh, no, Aemond, I only draw for personal pleasure.”

He hummed, looking around. “Your work is much better, though.”

“Isn’t that a biased opinion?” You grinned.

He just shrugs and you both continue to walk, eventually finding the library. He admired the arched, glassed ceilings that showed the beginning of the setting sun, allowing the rows of shelves brimming with literature glow with the warm reds, yellows, and amber colors.

“I would never wish to leave this,” he whispered to you, his gaze taking in the lines of book spines. “I wished to lay my head in your lap and read my days away.”

You were at a loss for words. A few months ago, you were fantasizing about a fictional prince from some fantasy world and now you were touring the fucking university with him. “Aemond,” your voice is low. “You still have not told me how you came here…”

Aemond looks down at you and hums before taking your hand and pulling you towards the exit. You round the corner and stop to lean against the outside wall, listening as he delves into his explanation which includes a witch and a potion she concocted, which would allow you the opportunity to leave this modern world you were ensnared in and return with him to Westeros.

It all sounded too good to be true.

You watch him wet his lips, waiting for your reply.

But you still had no words and so you pressed to your tiptoes to kiss him. He responded by wrapping his arms around your waist, his mouth opened to deepen the kiss and his tongue was tantalizing against your own. His hands moved to rub the curves of your hips and pull you closer against him for a moment before releasing his hold.

You fall back a step, your cheeks and tip of your nose red from the kiss. “Let's go back,” you whisper and he is quick to follow you.

The modern drab is easier to peel away and you both fall into your bed a tangle of bare limbs. His touch is tender and attentive as this morning, with a familiarity as he navigates over your body; Aemond is dutiful to your reaction, pacing himself with the soft gasps that spilled from your lips, until the inevitable rush of blood that bloomed between your thighs with your climax.

He falls forward, burying his face into your neck with the hum of his own release and his lips kiss the curve of your neck. You both lay there until you feel your heart beats return to its normal, precoital pace.

You have your answer for him.

“Aemond,” your voice is soft and he shifts to his side, his palm resting beneath your breasts. “I will return with you to Westeros, but…” his face is stoic, just waiting for you to finish your thought. “There is something I have to tell you first.”

He moves again to bring your head to his chest and you nestle beneath his chin, unable to see his face. “Go on with your confession,” his tone is tight.

With a deep breath, you tell him you may be pregnant.

His reaction was not what you expected; you feel him still and look to see him peering down at you, a small furrow on his brow. “Are you certain?”

You explain the concept of a pregnancy test but that you had yet seen someone to confirm. His palm moves, calloused but warm, and rests on your stomach. “Ñuha zaldrītsos,” his tone is so low and your cheeks heat with his words.

My little dragon.

“We will marry once we return to Westeros,” he continued and, of course, it was not a question but stated as a fact. When he notices how you stare, only then does he say, “You must know that I cannot father a bastard and I certainly did not travel to your world to only be,” his lips curled with the words, “your good friend.”

Your face flames. “I mean, yes, but, uh, I also thought it would be… you know, a bit more romantic?”

Aemond only hums his reply, pulling you closer and you eventually relax against him, your head resting on his chest and listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. After a few moments, you finally ask, “When would we leave?”

“Tomorrow night,” and with his words, begins the countdown of your time left within the 21st century.

The next day begins with the warm hum of Aemond nestled between your legs, with kitten licks to your cunt until your eyes flutter open. You feel the coil in your lower abdomen and his fingers curl into you to coax your release. “Swear you will always wake me up like this,” you are breathless and he grins as he licks his fingers clean.

Eventually, you pull yourselves from the bed and find all your roommates dressed and waiting in the living room. They treat you to a late lunch at your favorite restaurant and give an annoying toast to you and your good friend. Aemond smirks into his drink, his hand underneath the table and palming your thigh; your fingers rest gentle on his firm grasp, enjoying the heat of his hold.

Back in the quiet of your room, you settle in a nest of pillows to write a farewell letter to your roommates. Aemond spends a moment in front of your shelf and comes to lay on the other side of your bed with a book in his hand. “The Hobbit?” You ask with a smile. “It is a classic and one of my favorites.”

“I have always read to understand and to learn, which I enjoy,” he explains, looking over the cover. “I am curious to read for the sake of a story. This is a first for me.”

Finishing your note, you clear off your lap and allow Aemond to lay his head down as he reads; your fingers comb through his hair and he gives the occasional hum when your nails scratch his scalp.

There is a tightness in your chest. You dated a bit, but nothing that allowed an intimate moment like this. You had never been with someone who so boldly craved your touch, your attention. There was a comfort under his constant eye, how his gaze would search for you and watch your every move.

You sigh at the thought, knowing this was why you decided to leave, because what truly kept you here? You had devoted yourself so thoroughly to a tedious school schedule and were now in your mid-twenties and all that remained was a tedious career and debt.

You lost the little things in this life that you had so dearly loved.

You are going, your mind was bold with the words and only then did you notice Aemond shifted to stand up, holding his hand towards you.

Your room was dark, save the golden glow from your lamp. Your fingers were cool to the touch and he pulled you to your feet and only then did you notice an iridescent circular glow in front of your closet. “It’s time,” he said.

And you freeze, your eyes looking over your room that you stayed in for the last 7 years. There was comfort with what was familiar and risk with the step, but what was the fucking quote? You cannot live your life in fear, or you will forsake the best parts of it?

Only then you realized how Aemond was watching you; he dropped your hand and turned away from you.

You stupid bitch, why did you hesitate, you think and reach to touch his arm. “Aemond, I’m sorry, I’m just scared-”

He turns back to bring you against his chest, pressing his lips against yours; you welcome him, your lips parting to deepen the kiss and your mouth fills with a liquid with a sickly sweetness like cough syrup. You try to pull back, but his hold tightens and his hand clamps over your mouth and he does not release until he feels you swallow. “Aemond,” you gasp for air. “What the actual fuck.”

Aemond leans forward for a second kiss that is more chaste, his lips soft. “I understand your hesitation,” his voice is low and his gaze is intense. “But I cannot risk it. Life presents different pathways and we have only a moment to surrender to it, allowing yourself something that is destined for you.” He kisses you again and you moan in his mouth, your head spinning. “You are mine and you will return with me to Westeros where I will spend all of my days to cherish, to worship, to ravish your body until my last breath, I swear this to you.”

Your eyes are wide with his words and only then do you notice an iridescent glow to your skin tone. “What is happening to me…”

He pulls you closer still and whispers, “Come with me.”

And you go, half expecting a rush of wind, some sort of indication you left behind everything you ever knew, but instead you were standing in an empty throne room where tapers were lit and littered around, emitting a warm glow.

Alys Rivers looks up from where she is sitting and you see a smile to her painted lips. “You returned with her, my prince,” she turns her focus to you. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Westeros.”

#just a world away #call it dreaming #series finale #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemaleReader #Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader #aemond smut #thank you for reading #♥

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