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drumlincountry · 24 days
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I want you to imagine a meadow. In the golden sunlight of late summer. The flowers are fragrant. Some of them are almost waist high. Meadowsweet, spearwort, yarrow, clover. The fringed leaves of silverweed shimmer as they dance beneath your feet. Elsewhere, the grass is dotted with flowers you have to crouch to see. Forget-me-nots, stitchworts, vetches. A dynamic living carpet curls around your boots.
The meadow goes on for miles. There are hedges and stands of trees. These woods are heavy with blackberries and elderberries, the promise of autumn on its way. And at the end of the meadow is a glittering shore. A lake sparkles as it laps against the meadow, creating the perfect home for the golden goblet flowers of marsh marigold. The sighing sound of the water wraps you up in a gentle sense of peace.
And the animals! As you walk, curious cows come up to say hello. A pair of horses follow you for a while. You stroke one of them on its velvet soft nose. It leans into the weight of your careful hand.
Finally, I want you to imagine that somewhere, deep in this meadow of dreams - among the flowers and the brambles and the animals who seem like they might like to follow you home - you lost your keys.
That was my afternoon.
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fictionadventurer · 2 years
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If you're still doing the three-sentence fairytale retelling thing: how about Bluebeard as a comedy of manners?
SETTING: Parlor in an elegant mansion. A large window overlooks a sunny rose garden.
BLUEBEARD, a young man of somewhere less than thirty, so-named for the cyan tint to his whiskers (it's a long story), stands before the window, speaking to ARTHUR, a man of about his age. A black cat with white paws sits on an armchair.
BLUEBEARD: It's very simple. Aunt Augusta doesn't know I'm married, so she's preparing a wedding for me. Genevieve, the chosen girl, showed up this morning with six bridesmaids. I couldn't send them away, so I've locked them safely away in one of the upstairs rooms.
ARTHUR: And your wife has the key?
BLUEBEARD: She has all the keys. But don't worry, I've already solved that problem. I've told Catherine to never, under any circumstances, open that door.
ARTHUR: [after a stunned silence] You, my friend, are doomed.
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ennaih · 9 months
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Every Film I Watch In 2023:
260. Livide (2011)
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dubiousdoctors · 1 year
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deeply unfortunate that there is no way of living except to be in certain ways forever defined by the places you have spent your life!!
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mimsiical · 1 year
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i was reading this blog post about food + chronic illness management and the person was like “let’s talk about the two extremes -- extremely hungry and extremely full. both of these feel bad and we want to avoid them.” and i was like oh buddy. you have never been chronically hungry and i’m embarrassed to have read that sentence.
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sayruq · 5 months
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My grandmother Naifa al-Sawada was born in June 1932. A beautiful girl with blue eyes, she was the only daughter to her parents. They were originally from Gaza but moved to nearby Bir al-Saba, where Naifa’s father Rizq worked as a merchant. She did well at school and in 1947 obtained the necessary certificate from the British – then the rulers of Palestine – to attend university. She did not do so, however. Her father was fearful about what could happen to her at a time when war in Palestine appeared imminent. At a young age, she married my grandfather Salman al-Nawaty and went to live in Gaza. Between 1947 and 1949, Zionist forces expelled approximately 800,000 Palestinians from their homes. Among those directly affected by the Nakba – Arabic for catastrophe – were Naifa’s own parents, who fled their home in Bir al-Saba for Gaza. Having witnessed the Nakba, Naifa encouraged her own children to defend Palestine. Naifa gave birth to four girls and six boys.Like so many mothers in Gaza, she experienced great loss. Her son Moataz went missing while traveling to Jerusalem in 1982. It is still not known what happened to him. Another son Moheeb, a journalist, left Palestine for Norway in 2007. Three years later he traveled to Syria. In January 2011, he went missing. The Syrian authorities subsequently confirmed to the Norwegian diplomatic service that he was imprisoned. But he has not been allowed to contact his family.We do not know his current whereabouts or even if he is alive or dead. My grandmother witnessed the first intifada from 1987 and 1993. On the streets around her, youngsters with stones and slingshots rose up against armed Israeli soldiers in tanks and military jeeps. During that time, her son Moheeb – the aforementioned journalist – was held for more than a year without charge or trial. That infamous practice is called administrative detention. My grandmother lived close to al-Shifa, Gaza’s largest hospital. She took great care of arranging everything in her home with her delicate hands. She used those same hands to comb her hair into braids. She memorized the Quran and took great interest in the education of her children and grandchildren. On 21 March this year, Israeli troops broke into my grandmother’s home. The soldiers displayed immense brutality. They ordered the women in our family to evacuate on foot and arrested the men. They would not allow the women to take my grandmother, who had Alzheimer’s disease, with them. The soldiers claimed that my grandmother would be safe. That was a lie. The invasion of my grandmother’s house took place amid Israel’s siege on al-Shifa hospital. My grandmother’s house was destroyed during that siege and she was killed. Her remains were found days after the Israeli troops eventually withdrew from the hospital earlier this month. She was killed – alone – in the same house where she had lived since 1955. We do not know if she suffered or if she died quickly. We do know that she was older than Israel’s merciless occupation.
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yawnderu · 22 days
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A one-night stand with Simon completely ruins you for any other man.
His hands are forever tainted with blood and sin, yet despite the callouses adorning the rough skin, Simon’s touch is uncharacteristically gentle for someone his size, nearing a dangerous softness that has your heart beating faster by the second. 
His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you down onto his thick, hard cock, the flared tip slamming into the depths of your cunt, every single sensitive spot stimulated, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the dimly lit room, mingling with your moans.
“Look at you.” His deep voice is thick with approval, tired eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the swell of your tits, the curve of your waist, admiring you like you're nothing short of a work of art. So fucking perfect, and all his for the night. 
“Fuckin’ beautiful.” More than death’s instrument, Simon Riley is just a man, unable to resist temptation— unable to resist the pleading look in your eyes, silently begging for more. His grip on your hips falters, one of his hands trailing up your sweaty, warm skin, pulling you down until your face finds shelter on the crook of his neck, your soft lips hovering over his pulse, a silent display of trust given with such ease to a complete stranger. 
He pulled back and thrust inside you again, setting a less brutal rhythm, nothing in his hazy mind but the goal of making you cum first.  He couldn’t help but reach between your bodies, applying light pressure on your swollen clit as he fucked you deeper, his thick tip ramming against your cervix over and over, his breath hot against your skin with each groan leaving his lips.
His free hand comes up to grasp your jaw, fingers lightly digging into the skin as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a primal dance of lust. The bitter taste of tobacco and bourbon in his saliva makes you whine, your soft hands coming up to cup his cheeks, half-lidded brown eyes meeting your gaze when you pull away.
“Fuck… gonna cum.” Simon’s breath grows heavier at the pure hunger in your eyes, dancing along a vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Amid the pleasure coiling in your stomach, your hips begin to move to match his intense pace, meeting his thrusts halfway. Simon’s thumb presses harder against your swollen clit, circling it slowly, your walls tightening around his aching cock, dragging a quiet, muffled moan out of him.
“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me.” Simon’s voice quivers as he lets out a low groan, his free hand going down to grab a handful of your ass, the fat and muscle seeping through his fingers when he squeezes. He pushes deeper into you, trying to reach that blissful peak you both crave. His thrusts grow more desperate, a familiar tightness in his lower stomach threatening to make him cum, using your body as leverage to fuck into you harder, deeper. 
“Oh… oh, fuck.” His cock twitches at your whiny moans, your walls growing even tighter around him, eyes rolling back as you finally collapse on top of him, heavy breaths leaving those soft lips he has grown to adore. Simon follows right after, unable to hold himself back, burying his cock inside you as deep as possible. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your insides, marking you as his, even if only for that night. 
“You okay?” He tucked your face into his neck, allowing you to breathe in his scent— cigarettes, gunpowder, and the faint smell of licorice. He leaned down, pressing tender kisses all over your forehead and cheeks, not minding the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. His hands are warm and gentle, running up and down your back as you both catch your breath, giving you time to recover. 
“Mhm.” He pulled out of you slowly, tugging you into his side, his hand drifting down to your belly, rubbing circles on the tender skin to soothe you, his other hand pulling you closer, the aftermath of your passion lingering between you. Your fingers linger on his side, hesitantly running up and down, feeling the multiple bumps from old scars, gently rubbing a particularly bad set over his ribs.  His breath hitches, yet he remains quiet, allowing you to have all of him.
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asmaayyad · 3 days
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*Unforgettable minutes from memory..*
"This is the story of the forced displacement of my family"
Minutes was the story of our displacement, we fled from one danger to another, the children screaming, the adults in pain, we left without carrying any of our belongings with us, we left only with our souls that were tired of this crime.
My family consists of eight members: father, mother, six sons and four daughters. Our original place of residence is the Khan Yunis area. We were displaced in mid-February 2024. We are now living, after our fifth displacement, in a tent in the Al-Mawasi area that lacks the most basic necessities of life. Here there is no water, no food, and no medicine. Here you live amid epidemics and diseases. Here your body turns into a fingerprint device for ants, flies, mosquitoes, and others.
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What I have written is a small part of my great and ongoing suffering, and if I wanted to speak in detail you would not be able to imagine what is happening to us.
I ask you to help my family who need you to lead them out of darkness and into light. You are their great hope.
Support, share
Thanks to everyone who documented my campaign.
@90-ghost
@nabulsi
@aces-and-angels
@gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #43 )
@gazagfmboost
Dear Palestine supporter… I have seen your great interest in the Palestinian campaigns, and this is a great honor for us. I am happy to get to know you and talk to you ♥️
@appsa @sar-soor @sayruq @stuckinapril @heritageposts @neptunerings @feluka @malcriada @queerstudiesnatural @brutaliakhoa @rizzyluke @determinate-negation
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_"Tidak ada di dunia ini yang lebih indah daripada sebuah kehidupan Kristen dengan begitu banyak ujian dan keprihatinan — dan masih tetap penuh kedamaian dan penuh sukacita menerima itu semua. Inilah tujuan sejati dari kehidupan Kristen yang mulia."_ ~ J. R. Miller
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lizzyiii · 9 days
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Rōva Mandia
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pairing | aemond targaryen x sister!reader
word count | 7.1k words
summary | no one has ever loved aemond as fiercely as his beloved older sister. in return, aemond honors the vow he made to you in his youth.
tags | (18+MDNI!) SMUT. unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f), tiddy suckin', lactating kink, targaryen incest, reader is described to have auburn hair and lilac eyes (that's all), very very soft aemond, tooth rotting fluff at the end.
a/n | you know when you just randomly maladaptive dream entire storylines. this was one of them.
likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨
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You were the firstborn child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower, yet you drifted in the shadows of memory like a wisp of smoke. Your presence often eclipsed by the bold brilliance of your elder half-sister Rhaenyra, or merely the existence of your younger brother, Aegon. Yet, you never truly minded.
In the year 107 AC, on a night heavy with anticipation, the young Queen Alicent Hightower cradled the weight of her impending pregnancy. She had endured anxiety and dread throughout her pregnancy, her every waking moment tinged with the consuming fear that the fate of her marriage—and of House Hightower—hinged solely on her ability to provide King Viserys with a trueborn son. Yet, as fate would have it, the child that emerged from her womb was not the hoped-for heir but a daughter.
When you were born, the moment felt like a betrayal. Alicent, still young and with deep-seated insecurities, could barely bring herself to lay eyes upon the newborn. The girl, scarcely fifteen years of age, cringed at the sight of her own flesh and blood. What stung the deepest was your hair, a rich auburn hue that betrayed your Targaryen lineage. The only remnant of your noble bloodline was found in the child’s striking lilac eyes.
Each time the queen gazed at her daughter, a cascade of shame washed over her, intertwining with a deep self-loathing for how she could harbor such sentiments towards an innocent babe. Yet, Alicent felt a cruel twist of self-loathing rise within her, her heart heavy with despair as she struggled to accept the sight of you, a precious life she was unsure she could embrace.
Just a year later, however, Alicent finally brought forth Aegon, a true prince, heartily welcomed into the world as the firstborn son of King Viserys. With the birth of Aegon, a new dawn broke in the halls of the Red Keep, overshadowing your existence, casting you into the recesses of memory.
A joyful spirit, you moved through the world with ease. Sleep came effortlessly, as did your feeding time; you were a balm to your septas and caretakers, never troubling them with cries or demands. In the halls of the Keep, you were fondly known as the Realm’s Jewel, a title that shimmered like sunlight on water.
Yet, for a girl of merely five summers, there was an oddity to your existence—the way your father and your mother rarely sought your company or cast their eyes in your direction. Your youthful heart struggled to grasp the currents of neglect that flowed through the air, as the King seemed to have all but forgotten you and the Queen wore a mask of shame with every fleeting glance at you.
Still, when nestled amid your younger siblings, you found a sanctuary of joy. Aegon, though just four, was a whirlwind of energy and laughter, his playful spirit infusing warmth into your days. Helaena, your sweet baby sister, was quiet, perhaps too quiet for one so small, and yet her beauty was a radiant comfort to you.
Your mother, Queen Alicent, was on the cusp of bringing forth another child. To your youthful mind, this was the extent of your knowledge, as imparted by the ever-watchful Septa Emery who accompanied you. The thought of a new sibling filled your heart with a joyous anticipation that seemed to dance within your chest.
"Septa Emery," you interjected with a voice that was soft yet insistent, "has Mama had the babe yet?"
The Septa turned to you, her lips curving into a gentle smile, a reflection of her amusement at your eagerness. "I believe she has, my dear princess."
A gasp escaped your lips, bubbling forth in delight, and you leaped to your feet. "Can we see her? Please, may we?"
Septa Emery paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face as she regarded the earnestness shining in your eyes. Her voice, though laced with an air of formality, held a hint of affection. "I am uncertain, my princess. It may not be the proper time..."
But you pressed on, your pleas tumbling forth in a torrent of childlike sincerity. "Please, just for a moment! Then we shall return at once! I promise!"
After a drawn-out moment of contemplation, during which you could see the battle of duty and affection warring within her, Septa Emery sighed, her resolve crumbling. "Very well, let us go, Princess."
A smile erupted across your face, the kind that radiated pure joy, and in that instant, you were off—your feet barely kissing the ground as you raced from your solar. Septa Emery followed in your wake, her steps hurried yet careful, endeavoring to keep pace with your youthful exuberance as you dashed toward the birthing chambers.
You offered a quick, respectful curtsy to the guard stationed at the door, earning a small chuckle of amusement in return as he nodded and swung the heavy door open. You slipped into the room, your heart racing as your gaze landed on your mother, Alicent, who appeared weary and drenched in beads of sweat.
Following her weary eyes, you spotted your father standing at the center of the chamber, cradling a small bundle swathed in soft linen. A gasp escaped your lips, the sound a mixture of surprise and joy as you hurried to his side, eagerness bubbling within you.
“Father, may I see, please?” you asked, tugging excitedly at the hem of his tunic.
“My darling, be gentle with your father,” Alicent said with a scolding look, her voice tinged with exhaustion. At her words, you sheepishly withdrew your hand, though your excitement remained constant.
Viserys chuckled warmly, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. “Calm yourself, Alicent. She merely wishes to meet her new brother.”
A wide smile broke across your face upon learning that it was a boy. With a tender motion, Viserys lowered his arms, revealing the tiny face of your new brother. You leaned closer, your heart swelling with wonder.
"What is his name?" you asked, your voice a soft whisper filled with awe as you gazed at the small figure.
“Aemond,” the King replied quietly, an approving smile gracing his lips as he looked at the bundle with pride. “Aemond will do nicely.”
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Aemond Targaryen struggled to recall the days of his infancy, memories shrouded in the mists of time. The solitary shard of clarity that pierced through his mind was the profound grief that accompanied the failure of his dragon egg to hatch, a sentiment that lingered like a shadow, filled with sorrow and disappointment. Pleasurable memories from his youth were rare as dragon's gold, yet the few he clung to were always linked to you.
His older sister, radiant as the sun, with a warm smile that graced her lips whenever she cast her gaze upon him. You never ridiculed him or taunted him for lacking a dragon of his own; rather, it was you who offered him solace. The first time he soared through the skies upon a dragon's back, it was your magnificent purple beast, Aegarax, that carried him aloft.
He recalled the fleeting moments when the weight of training and the useless lessons at the Dragonpit would lift from his shoulders. During those precious respites, he sought you out, drawn like a moth to a shimmering flame. Often, you would be found in the company of Helaena and your kind Septa, ever eager to absorb knowledge. Yet, there were those cherished times when you chose to spend your hours alongside him, wandering through the fragrant gardens or nestled in the library. There, you would ask him to read, his heart swelling with joy at the opportunity to please you.
Yet, a constant sense of unworthiness gnawed at him. If he ever hoped to be deemed worthy of your love, he felt he must embody the essence of a true Targaryen—a feat he believed could only be accomplished through claiming a dragon of his own. Thus, on one fateful day, he dared to enter the Dragonpit, almost succumbing to the searing flames of Dreamfyre. Shortly thereafter, a White Cloak hastily whisked him away to his mother, where he braced for her ire. Yet, to his astonishment, amidst a stern scolding, he found unexpected comfort in her embrace—an offering that was never given freely.
After cleaning his ashen skin, Aemond sought you out, yearning for your presence to soothe his troubled heart. It felt like an eternity as he navigated the many corners of the keep—the library, the gardens, and the courtyard—yet you remained elusive. Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, he finally discovered you in your chambers.
Without a moment's hesitation, he pushed open the door and slipped inside, finding you gracefully at work on the chaise, your fingers deftly weaving threads into intricate patterns. You were a breathtaking vision, embodying grace and beauty. In Aemond’s eyes, no other woman could rival you; with your bouncy auburn locks framing your face and your wide lilac eyes sparkling with warmth, you were perfection itself in his young gaze.
Suddenly aware of his presence, your lilac eyes widened in surprise, quickly softening into a gentle smile. “I didn’t hear you come in, Lēkia,” you said, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled spirit.
Aemond maintained a stoic facade, yet you recognized the telltale signs of turmoil he tried to conceal. Setting your embroidery aside, you rose and approached him, concern etched on your soft features. “What’s wrong?”
He bit his lip, fighting against the tide of tears that threatened to spill from a heart burdened by inadequacy. With a sudden rush, he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head against your soft stomach, the familiar comfort of your embrace drawing away the weight of his struggles. You enveloped him in your warmth, holding him close.
“What ails you, my sweet?” you asked softly, your voice gentle as you cradled him within your warmth.
In a muffled tone, he whispered something into your midsection, prompting you to hum thoughtfully. You gently withdrew from your embrace, seeking to meet his gaze. "Please, speak to me," you urged, your eyes searching his.
"I... I attempted to claim a dragon within the Dragonpit," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted your lilac gaze.
“Aemond,” you breathed, a soft sigh escaping with your words. He continued to gaze elsewhere, so you delicately entwined your fingers with his, leading him toward the luxurious chaise. “Come, sit.”
For a moment, you gazed at him tenderly, while you settled beside him, you brushed aside the silvery strands that shrouded his face, your touch light and affectionate. “You will have a dragon, Aemond. It flows through your bloodline, just as it does with every Targaryen.”
“But when?” he replied, his voice tinged with desperation and despair as his sad gaze finally met yours, shimmering with unfulfilled longing.
"I cannot say when, but the day will come," you assured him, caressing his cheek with a resolve you wished to impart. "In the meantime, you are always welcome to ride Aegarax with me. He enjoys your company as much as I do."
A flicker of relief sparked within Aemond, a small smile breaking the solemnity of his features. “One day, I shall marry you, Mandia,” he declared, his tone earnest.
You let out a light laugh—a melodious sound akin to a sweet harp, which soothed his troubled spirit. "Oh, really?"
He pouted at your playful response, brow furrowing with the weight of his intentions. "You think I jest, but I assure you, I will."
Meeting his earnest gaze with a warm smile, you nodded in playful affirmation. "Very well, Valonqar. We shall see."
In the gentle silence that followed, the two of you simply enjoyed the comfort of each other's presence. Aemond cast his gaze toward the window, observing the encroaching darkness that swallowed the sky. With a soft glimmer of hope in his brilliant violet eyes, he turned back to you, asking quietly, “May I stay here tonight?”
Your response was a tender smile only reserved for him, a sweet beacon that quickened his heart. “Of course, Aemond.”
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His sister’s words rang with an undeniable truth. In time, Aemond did indeed lay claim to a dragon—not just any dragon, but Vhagar herself, the Queen of Dragons, the largest creature to ever soar the skies of Westeros. Yet, claiming such a majestic beast came at a grievous cost; he sacrificed an eye in the process. At first, he boasted that the price was worth it, but upon returning to the gilded halls of King's Landing, the true weight of his loss bore down on him.
Aemond found himself faced with the daunting challenge of relearning the world around him. He had to master the art of reading anew, to walk with the steadiness that had once come naturally, and to wield a sword with the same grace as before. Each endeavor was a trial, a relentless drain on his youthful body and spirit. Yet, through the trials of his recovery, you, his beloved elder sister, remained steadfast by his side, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he navigated this painful journey of transformation.
Until, all too suddenly, you weren't.
He entered your solar, seeking the solace of your presence, only to be met with the voices of your grandsire and mother. Concealed from their gaze, he peeked through the door, his heart heavy, and caught a glimpse of you standing by the window. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, as if trying to shield your heart from the world beyond.
"What was his name again?" your voice, laced with a softness that belied your inner turmoil, floated through the air, causing Aemond's brow to furrow in concern at the sorrow woven into your words.
"Thaddeus Rowan, Lord of Goldengrove," his mother replied, and Aemond felt a flicker of confusion as he noticed her wide, imploring eyes fixed upon you, as though she were silently pleading with you.
You nodded gently, your gaze lost in the sprawling landscape beyond, "Would I be able to bring Aegarax with me?"
"I daresay Goldengrove would welcome your dragon's protection with open arms, granddaughter," Otto declared, his eyes sharp and calculating as they scrutinized every nuance of your demeanor, awaiting your reaction with a predator’s patience.
A tumult of emotions roiled within Aemond’s chest, though he could hardly fathom why. A longing to comfort you surged, even as your back remained turned. At last, you responded, your voice resolute yet laced with vulnerability, "Then I shall fulfill my duty as a princess of the realm."
A spark of satisfaction flared in Otto’s expression. "I am glad to hear it, granddaughter," he affirmed, a tone of finality settling into his words.
Yet Alicent lingered, her gaze still fixed upon you, her eyes a tapestry of sadness and shame. She reached out a hand, a gesture of motherly affection, but in a moment of hesitation, withdrew before she could bridge the distance between you. With a shared understanding, she and Otto exchanged a nod before departing your solar. Aemond pressed himself behind a grand pillar, concealed from their view as his heart raced.
He knew he couldn’t linger long in the facade of concealment. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped into his sister's solar. Your back was turned to him, and as he drew nearer, he announced his presence with a caution, “Mandia.”
Startled, you flinched at the sound of his voice, swiftly raising your hands to your face—a gesture of self-protection. Only then did Aemond catch a glimpse of the tears streaming down your cheeks, slivers of silver glimmering in the waning light. His brows knitted together in concern as he advanced, but your dismissed his worry with a bittersweet laugh, “Lēkia. I fear you have caught me in a most untimely moment.”
He longed to comfort you, to wipe away your grief, yet an insatiable curiosity compelled him to press on gently, “Why were mother and grandsire speaking of Goldengrove?”
You cast him a scolding glance, brow raised, your slight smile faltering as you continued to dab at your damp cheeks, “It is considered rude to eavesdrop.”
“I do not understand what is happening,” he continued, urgency creeping into his voice. Deep down, however, he felt the ominous truth threatening to crush him.
With a heavy heart, you met Aemond’s gaze directly, your big lilac eyes filled with sorrow and reluctant acceptance. “I am betrothed to Lord Thaddeus Rowan of Goldengrove.”
His world shattered around him; the pain radiating from his chest was more excruciating than the loss of his eye. “What? No. You cannot.”
“It is not my choice, Aemond,” you replied, shaking your head in defeat, the shimmer of hope fading from your countenance.
“You are a Targaryen!” Aemond nearly shouted, his voice a crescendo of desperation. “He is unworthy of you.”
“It matters not,” you whispered softly, the finality of your words echoing in the stillness of the chamber.
Deep down, Aemond clung desperately to the hope that this was but a nightmare from which he would awaken. The truth, however, was a crueler torment than any physical wound. Breath came to him in ragged gasps, as if all the air had been stolen from his lungs, leaving him to struggle against a tide of despair.
“I think Aegarax will take nicely to The Reach," lost in your own turmoil, you failed to notice the torment that mirrored your own within Aemond’s piercing gaze. Instead, you murmured to yourself, perhaps seeking solace amidst the tempest of your emotions, "Yes, he will like it very much.”
And soon, the fates would conspire against them both. Just after Aegon and Helaena exchanged their vows, you would be sent away to the Reach—a gilded cage from which Aemond would not see you for six long years. Yet even in that time apart, his heart remained tethered to yours, longing for the touch of his lost sun amidst the shadows of his world.
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It was done.
Aemond savored the sweet taste of victory. Aegon, his pitiful brother, lay incapacitated, the remnants of his power reduced to whispers, his body marred by burns that etched a grim testament to Aemond's fury. Aemond had dismissed his mother, Queen Alicent, from the Small Council, casting aside any vestige of her influence. Now, he stood unchallenged as Prince Regent, the shadow of his ambition stretching across the realm.
With resolute determination, he summoned Ser Criston Cole and commanded the Lord of Casterly Rock to march forth from the west, their forces destined to converge upon the foreboding shadows of Harrenhal. Aemond would join them at the opportune moment, ready to solidify his claim and quench the fires of dissent.
Though Aegon was silenced and the realm lay at his feet, one yearning gnawed at Aemond’s heart—a singular desire that eclipsed all else. He had longed for a figure who transcended mere ambition, a presence that had haunted his dreams since early childhood. As the sun dipped below the horizon, surrendering the sky to twilight, a raven arrived with a missive to his council from The Reach.
The missive bore grim tidings: Lord Thaddeus Rowan had perished in battle, and his brother Thoren had ascended to the title of Lord of Goldengrove, swearing fealty to Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rage bubbled within him as he recalled the moment his mother had all but surrendered you—his beloved sister—into the arms of that faded, middle-aged lord.
Images of you flooded his mind—your laughter echoing off the stone walls of your ancestral home, your smile a beacon in the dreariness of courtly life. Aemond felt the fire of desire ignite within him. The time had come; he would reclaim what fate had stolen.
It struck him as odd that, despite news of your firstborn being a daughter, you had recently given birth to a second child. Goldengrove, a jewel in the Reach, should rightfully have been entrusted to you, yet it now rested, unjustly, in the grip of Thoren Rowan.
But the thought that consumed Aemond was not one of territorial politics. No, it throbbed with the pulse of a more personal victory: your husband lay dead. At last, he could claim you as his own, severing the chains that bound you to another.
As soon as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon, Aemond resolved to pay a visit to Thoren Rowan. He would make the traitor pay for his disloyalty to the crown, and yet it was the promise of rekindling the bond with you that stoked the flames of his ambition.
In truth, Aemond had not found a moment's respite, his restless mind weaving visions of your long-anticipated reunion. As dawn broke over the horizon, shimmering rays of light filtering through the castle, he adorned himself in his finest garb, meticulously chosen for this momentous occasion. With a determined heart, he mounted Vhagar, ready to embark on his journey to the Reach.
The journey to Goldengrove was one of anticipation and fury. Hours slipped by, and at long last, Aemond beheld the looming silhouette of the castle. Vhagar’s terrifying wings overshadowed the stone walls, casting a foreboding shadow over the realm. The sounds of alarm bells rang out like wails of despair, mingling with the frightened cries of its inhabitants, as his arrival heralded both dread and a reckoning.
As Vhagar touched down, Aemond swiftly rounded up the Rowan men, making them kneel before him. Thoren Rowan, trembling and desperate, pleaded for mercy in the face of certain doom. Although the moment summoned an eager anticipation within him, Aemond felt a flicker of disappointment—he had hoped to catch a glimpse of you upon his arrival, yet you remained elusive, lost within the sprawling estate of Goldengrove.
Just as he prepared to utter the command that would unleash Vhagar's fiery wrath upon the trembling men, his gaze was drawn to a figure advancing through the smoke and chaos. Time seemed to stall as he recognized you, and his breath hitched in his throat.
You appeared as though a radiant goddess had graced the earth, clad in a gown of shimmering white and gold that caught the fading light. Your auburn locks, intricately braided, framed your face perfectly. Aemond studied you intently, noting that six years had graced you with maturity; the gentle roundness of your cheeks had given way to a more defined beauty, and your figure had blossomed into becoming more full, heralding your entrance into womanhood.
"What is this commotion?" you inquired, a frown tugging at your lips as you regarded Aemond, dismissing the row of quaking men at your feet with a mere glance.
Thoran Rowan, breath escaping him in a heavy sigh of relief, turned to you with palpable gratitude. “Good sister, finally! You must put an end to this madness.”
You turned to Thoren, tilting your head thoughtfully, your expression inscrutable. After a moment, you replied, “I shall call my brother off, but only on one condition, Thoren.”
Aemond listened intently, the gleam in his eye revealing no discontent with your words, while Thoran’s expression shifted to one of desperate anticipation. “Anything,” he affirmed, his voice barely above a whisper.
“My daughter shall inherit Goldengrove when she comes of age and ascend as its Lady,” you declared, unwavering and resolute, maintaining your composure in the face of any opposition.
“Sister!” Thoren's face contorted in disbelief. “She is a girl; It goes against tradition.”
You studied Thoran with a cold gaze, your shoulders rising in a nonchalant shrug. “Then I cannot help you. Without a male of the Rowan line, my daughter stands as the only viable heir to Goldengrove.”
“No, sister, I beg of you!” Thoren and the other men around him begged, their voices rising in a cacophony of panic.
But your expression turned frostbitten, and you regarded the men with a chilling finality. "And do not presume I have forgotten the vile rumors you spread about my children's legitimacy."
Aemond observed you with admiration, respect swelling within him as you seized control of the situation. The moment your eyes locked with his, he understood the silent command, the signal to act. Clearing his throat, he commanded, “Dracarys.”
In response, Vhagar unleashed a torrent of fire, roaring with fury as the flames enveloped the Rowan men, their terrified shrieks echoing through the vast fields of The Reach, and erasing the male line of House Rowan from existence.
As the smoke began to dissipate and the flames waned, you remained, an ethereal figure standing amidst the ash and remnants of destruction. A sweet smile graced your lips—a memory from his childhood, vivid and cherished, resurfacing in his mind like a long-lost song.
With a magnetic pull, Aemond moved towards you as if drawn by the siren call of your presence, oblivious to the world crumbling around him. You stood resolute, a beacon of strength and beauty. Finally, as he reached you, your delicate hand brushed against his scarred cheek, an intimate gesture that forced him to close his eye and lean into your tender touch. “I was wondering when you’d come for me, Lēkia,” you said softly, your voice like a gentle breeze amidst the ashes.
His heart swelled, and he leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon your palm. “You were expecting me,” he replied, his tone laced with wonder.
“Of course,” you replied with a teasing smile, the light in your eyes igniting a warmth within him that he thought was long gone.
With a deliberate slowness, you entwined your fingers with his and led him toward the opulent halls of Goldengrove’s palace, each step drew him deeper into the heart of the estate, much like a sailor lured by the enchanting call of a siren echoing from the depths of the sea.
The servants of Goldengrove shrank back at the sight of the One-Eyed Prince Regent, their expressions shifting to disbelief and dread as they recognized his formidable presence. Oblivious to their fear, you led him toward the sanctuary of your solar, a space filled with the warmth of flickering sunlight.
“Now, the question lingers: what shall you do now that you’ve arrived?” you purred softly, leaning against an intricately carved table, your heart quickening as Aemond advanced toward you, his movement both predatory and possessive.
“I think you know, Mandia,” he murmured, lowering his face until his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and tantalizing against your lips. “How I have yearned for this moment.”
“What moment do you speak of?” you breathed, barely able to contain the electricity crackling in the air between you.
“To finally taste you,” he replied, his voice a husky whisper, before closing the distance between you and bringing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss that ignited a wildfire within his soul.
Your lips were as sweet as they appeared, and Aemond felt his hand tighten possessively around your figure, surrendering to the primal urges that consumed him. His fingers explored your soft curves, gripping you gently yet firmly, eliciting a soft moan from your lips—a sound he swiftly took as his masterful invitation.
Aemond plunged into the depths of your mouth with his tongue, that fierce pleasure driving him onward. He knew at once you had indulged in lemon cakes, the remnants of their sweetness lingering. His tongue danced about the cavern of your mouth, searching hungrily, like a ravenous beast giving in to instinct, as you, too, welcomed his explorations with eagerness and fervor, your tongues entwining in a passionate dance.
Your hands instinctively found their way around his neck, drawing him closer as his rough hands roamed your body, grasping and squeezing with an insatiable hunger. A soft gasp escaped your lips when Aemond lifted you effortlessly, placing you upon the polished surface of the nearby table. The kiss broke, leaving you breathless, your cheeks flushed with heat as your heart raced, “What do you intend to do to me, Lēkia?”
Aemond’s breath came in heavy bursts, fueled by the desire of his cock that throbbed against the confines of his tight leather trousers. As he lifted the hem of your gown, revealing the delicate curves of your thighs, he spoke with a husky intensity, “I have savored your lips, and now I yearn to taste your cunt.”
A wanton moan escaped your throat at his words, succumbing to the heady thrill of surrender. He wasted no time, bunched your gown at your hips, and with a swift motion, he tore away your smallclothes, leaving you exposed to his ravenous gaze. Aemond’s eye, a vivid violet, widened in awe as they beheld your glistening and wet form, a sight that drove his desire deeper, hardening his erection further as he prepared to claim what was rightfully his.
Mouthwatering at the sight, Aemond was unable to resist sticking his face closer and inhaling you and the sweetest ambrosia he’s ever smelt. He adjusted himself in between your legs, bending down in front of you as he placed his lips right on your gleaming pearl.
“Yes, Lēkia!” you screamed almost squealing in shock. Aemond moaned in return, rutting his hips against the table beneath you.. Not wasting any time, he began to lick you from bottom to top, never touching your pearl after that first lick. Your hands reached once more into his long silver hair and directed him where you needed him most. Following your instructions, he allowed you to guide him, as to know the best way to please you.
Giving in, he finally started nibbling at your pearl, causing you to jerk up into him, trying to get more pressure. Not needing your instructions anymore, Aemond started devouring your cunt, giving most of his attention to your pearl but licking at your hole too. You could feel your peak start to bubble up inside you, that rising feeling inside your stomach letting you know you weren’t going to last much longer.
“I’m so close,” you moaned out, and Aemond was quick to remove his face from your pearl and replace it with his fingers as he spoke. The cool touch of his fingers was a shock to your system, your body jerking involuntarily.
“You want to come, Mandia. Go on then, peak on your Valonqar's tongue.” He almost ordered, placing his mouth around your pearl once more and sucking hard. His words and the suction on your pearl had you releasing immediately. Bucking hard against his face, blindly reaching for his hands to hold onto as you gave into the pleasure and moaned out his name.
“Too much,” you muttered after you came down from your peak, attempting to push him away. Aemond gave one last kiss to your pearl before standing up, his face covered in your glistening wetness. Grabbing his face, you pulled him toward your lips to taste yourself. Both moaning out at the perversity of it all as Aemond took that opportunity to once again stick his tongue in your mouth. Bringing you in closer as he tried to devour you, seemingly content to stay like this forever.
Taking advantage of the distraction he had with your tongue, your hands caressed his leather-clad chest, drifting down to his trousers and finally finding his erect cock. Feeling his hard length straining through was enough to ignore everything and focus on the way your cunt once again tingled in excitement, as your legs came to wrap around him, pulling his cock closer to your cunt.
“Do you wish to fuck your Rõva Mandia?" Groaning he involuntarily bucked his hips, causing you to arch and moan into his neck. His head was resting against your neck as well, holding you close to him in a very intimate embrace as you rolled your hips.
“Please,” Aemond barely whispered. Reaching your hands down, you hastily untied his laces as you grabbed his covered cock, stroking him before guiding him to your wet slit. Aemond released a groan as he felt your throbbing, tight cunt around him. Neither of you moved getting used to the overwhelming sensations stirring inside.
The feelings were so intense he thought he was going to release from just feeling you wrapped around his cock like a vice. In an attempt to distract himself, he started peppering small kisses on your neck. When Aemond – at last – buried himself to the hilt, he pulled his lips from yours and stared down at your face.
"I never could have imagined it would feel this way,” Aemond said in a strained voice. You let out a sweet laugh and he groaned, your cunt fluttering around him. He reached his free hand down and circled your pearl, letting small bits of pleasure seep through you.
He pulled out, leaving only the tip in, before pushing his cock back inside you. His eye widened and his breath vanished. Admittedly, Aemond was doing everything in his power not to thrust into your tight cunt. You were squeezing the life out of him and he just wanted to ravish you. Yet, Aemond reminded himself, you were not some random whore, no, you were his beloved sister.
Aemond continued thrusting into you slowly, one thumb still dangling over your pearl, as he eyed you. He carefully gauged your reaction, measuring each sigh and whimper from your lips. He took great pride in seeing the pleasure trickling into your eyes as he rocked his cock into you.
“Aemond!” you moaned, your head falling back against the table. Your cunt tightened and wetness flooded around Aemond's cock. You moaned again, and Aemond knew you were ready. He grinned, manic and excited, and pushed inside of you a bit harder, a bit deeper, and you loved it.
“Yes, Lēkia, right there,” you moaned as he fucked into you a bit faster. You knew he was holding himself back and you were thankful for that. His thrusts were rough and hard, but he cradled you carefully. His nails bit into your thighs gently as he grabbed your legs, spreading you wider so he could get deeper.
Your brother brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t think of any words other than his name. You babbled it, along with a few expletives, about how much you wanted his cock, how you needed him, and eventually, how badly you needed to release.
Aemond wasn’t far behind you. Your tight, wet cunt was Heaven to him. You were a gift that no others could compare to. He wanted to sink himself so deeply into your body that he could never find the way out.
Aemond's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a damp patch on the fabric that veiled your breasts, his desire igniting. You opened your lilac eyes to find his gaze locked onto your chest, fixated as he rhythmically thrust into you.
Summoning all your strength, you pulled away from Aemond, your hands trembling as you expertly undid the ties at the front of your bodice, lowering your dress and liberating your breasts for his eager gaze.
"Take what you need from your Rõva Mandia," you moaned softly. The moment those words left your lips, something shifted in Aemond. He immediately dipped down, descending upon one of your nipples, his lips enveloping the hardening peak, teeth grazing teasingly as if he yearned to savor you completely. When he began to suck, a low groan escaped him as the sweet essence of his sister filled his mouth. After a moment, he switched to the other nipple, lavishing equal attention as he continued to drink from you.
Aemond eventually pulled away from between her breasts, mouth glistening with saliva and a few escaped beads of milk; licking the remnants away. Aemond released one of your thighs and pinched your pearl. He rubbed it furiously, daring you to release. His eyes were wild as he stared down at you, beautiful, throaty groans escaping his body.
“Cum for me, Mandia. Cum all over my cock, Ñuha jorrāelagon,” Aemond grunted. He tapped your pearl quickly, and with a shout of his name, you came all over him. Your body writhed with pleasure as whiteness blinded you. His name fell from your lips like a seductive mantra, and as he heard you cry out for him, Aemond came inside of you. He filled you with his seed, pumping himself slowly inside of you, as if to fill you to the brim.
With a deep sigh of utter exhaustion, Aemond sank against your chest, cautious not to crush you beneath him as he sought comfort among the softness of your breasts, recovering from the passionate lovemaking you had just shared. You lovingly combed your fingers through his silken hair, each stroke a tender caress that echoed your affection.
After a lingering moment, Aemond raised his head, his violet gaze locking onto yours, as he captured your lips once more in a fervent kiss.
When he finally drew back, his breath warm against your mouth, he murmured, "You shall accompany me back to King's Landing and take your place as my Queen."
A small smile graced your lips as you cupped his face with your hand, your touch gentle yet deliberate. "As you wish, Lēkia," you replied, pausing thoughtfully before adding, "Now, do you wish to meet my daughters?”
Aemond could only respond with a broad grin at your words, paying no mind to his softening cock still inside you.
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As the echoes of your shared passion lingered in the air, you both took a moment to compose yourselves, the warmth of your reunion still glowing between you. You reached for Aemond's hand, and he clasped it eagerly, allowing you to guide him through the labyrinthine corridors adorned with intricate white stone.
Aemond's thoughts began to wander, drifting to your daughters—would their features reflect your beauty or the visage of your late husband? Perhaps a delicate blend of both? A pang of jealousy gnawed at him, a reminder that you would forever carry ties to a man who had once been a significant part of your life.
Yet, he swiftly reassured himself. He would cherish your daughters just as he cherished you. They were woven from your essence, and in his eyes, that already made them flawless. A gentle smile graced your lips as you led him into a sunroom, a sanctuary bathed in sunlight, where stained glass cast colorful patterns across the floor, and vivid bouquets of blossoms filled the air with sweet fragrance.
“Mama!” came the high-pitched voice of a little girl, breaking through Aemond’s reverie.
He looked down, a smile spreading across his face. But as his gaze fell upon the small figure before him, that smile faltered, his eye widening in surprise as he beheld a small girl with a cascade of silver hair—the complete counterpart of her mother’s rich auburn locks.
With gentle grace, you lowered yourself to scoop up the little one. Your daughter’s delicate silver locks were intricately woven into a braided crown, and she wore a regal purple gown that beautifully complemented her enchanting lilac eyes.
“Aemond, meet Elaena,” you introduced softly, your voice warm as your daughter peered up at him, a hint of shyness flickering across her face. “Elaena, this is your kepūs, Aemond.”
With a gentle nudge, you encouraged the girl to greet him, and she shyly waved her small hand from the safety of your embrace. Aemond’s heart softened at the sight, and a genuine smile broke across his features as he took Elaena’s tiny hand in his, pressing a soft kiss upon it. “Hello Elaena.”
Elaena stifled a soft giggle at Aemond's antics, her mirth spilling into the cozy air like sunlight filtering through the leaves. Just as you were about to respond to his playful tease, a plaintive cry shattered the tranquility that enveloped you. Turning your head, you carefully set Elaena down, and Aemond watched with rapt attention as you glided toward a nearby cradle, your smile radiating warmth as you leaned over the tiny bundle nestled there.
In that moment, Aemond understood that your babe had awoken to the sound of your voice, her cries a sweet summons for her mother’s embrace. He felt a surge of pride wash over him as you lifted your second daughter into your arms, her Targaryen silver hair gleaming like strands of moonlight.
With tender affection, you nuzzled the baby’s soft cheek, laughter bubbling forth as you said, “Has my little love finally awoken?” The baby responded with delighted coos, her tiny hands reaching out in eager recognition of her beloved Mama.
Aemond, entranced by the sight before him, felt a moment of stillness, the world around him fading into the background. Yet this reverie was soon interrupted by a gentle tug, pulling him back to reality. Glancing down, he found Elaena grasping the hem of his tunic, her arms reaching up to him, a beacon of innocence. A smile blossomed across his face as he swiftly bent down, cradling her in his arms. In an instant, she eagerly reached for his eye patch, prompting a chuckle to escape his lips at her curiosity.
With Elaena nestled securely against him, he approached you and the babbling babe, your brilliant smile illuminating the sun filled chamber. You gestured toward the child cradled in your arms. “This is Aelora,” you announced, your voice filled with pride.
Aelora babbled softly, her cherub face aglow with happiness as she settled back against you, content in her mother’s loving embrace. As Aemond stole a glance at you, with Elaena in his arms and Aelora wrapped in your tender care, a profound realization washed over him. Your daughters, with their shimmering silver tresses and purple gaze, could have been a perfect reflection of him.
In the tangled depths of his thoughts, it seemed as though you had fashioned a perfect little family just for him to claim. His two precious daughters and his beloved Rõva Mandia.
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a/n | in my head, her name is aelyri in tribute of alicent's mother, alerie florent.
headcannon: she named elaena after helaena.
another headcannon: after coming back to king's landing, she realised goldengrove was the upgrade.
mandia - sister
rõva mandia - big sister
valonqar - little brother
lēkia - brother
ñuha jorrāelagon - my love
kēpus - uncle
Goldengrove
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Aegarax
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1K notes · View notes
back2bluesidex · 4 months
Text
We Need Practice - JJK (18+)
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A Sequel to Novice.
Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: Fluff, smut
Wordcount: 2.1k+
Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Masterlist | Patreon
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“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 
You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 
But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 
Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 
With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 
And that is exactly what he does. 
Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 
But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 
After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 
If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 
Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 
It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 
As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 
So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 
“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 
The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 
“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 
You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 
Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 
Wait. is he? Taking you out? 
Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 
So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 
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Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 
The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 
Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 
Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 
Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 
His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 
“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 
“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 
“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 
You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 
Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 
“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 
The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 
Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 
The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 
He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 
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5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 
It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 
Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 
You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 
Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 
When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 
“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 
So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 
His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 
Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 
“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 
“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 
Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 
Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 
“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 
Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 
“I think I would love it too.” 
And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 
He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 
His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 
And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 
He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 
“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 
It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 
You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 
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“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 
Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  
“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 
“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 
“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 
“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 
“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 
“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 
His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 
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Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 
“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 
Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 
“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 
One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 
Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 
“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 
“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 
“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 
You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 
“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 
Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  
“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 
“What? I-I don’t..” 
“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 
He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 
“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 
At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 
“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 
You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 
Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 
You really are a novice. 
Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 
As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 
Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 
With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 
And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 
“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 
“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 
You certainly need more practice with him. 
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
Text
The Klamath River’s salmon population has declined due to myriad factors, but the biggest culprit is believed to be a series of dams built along the river from 1918 to 1962, cutting off fish migration routes.
Now, after decades of Indigenous advocacy, four of the structures are being demolished as part of the largest dam removal project in United States history. In November, crews finished removing the first of the four dams as part of a push to restore 644 kilometres (400 miles) of fish habitat.
“Dam removal is the largest single step that we can take to restore the Klamath River ecosystem,” [Barry McCovey, a member of the Yurok Tribe and director of tribal fisheries,] told Al Jazeera. “We’re going to see benefits to the ecosystem and then, in turn, to the fishery for decades and decades to come.” ...
A ‘watershed moment’
Four years later, [after a catastrophic fish die-off in 2002,] in 2006, the licence for the hydroelectric dams expired. That created an opportunity, according to Mark Bransom, CEO of the Klamath River Renewal Corporation (KRRC), a nonprofit founded to oversee the dam removals.
Standards for protecting fisheries had increased since the initial license was issued, and the utility company responsible for the dams faced a choice. It could either upgrade the dams at an economic loss or enter into a settlement agreement that would allow it to operate the dams until they could be demolished.
“A big driver was the economics — knowing that they would have to modify these facilities to bring them up to modern environmental standards,” Bransom explained. “And the economics just didn’t pencil out.”
The utility company chose the settlement. In 2016, the KRRC was created to work with the state governments of California and Oregon to demolish the dams.
Final approval for the deal came in 2022, in what Bransom remembers as a “watershed moment”.
Regulators at the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) voted unanimously to tear down the dams, citing the benefit to the environment as well as to Indigenous tribes...
Tears of joy
Destruction of the first dam — the smallest, known as Copco 2 — began in June, with heavy machinery like excavators tearing down its concrete walls.
[Amy Cordalis, a Yurok Tribe member, fisherwoman and lawyer for the tribe,] was present for the start of the destruction. Bransom had invited her and fellow KRRC board members to visit the bend in the Klamath River where Copco 2 was being removed. She remembers taking his hand as they walked along a gravel ridge towards the water, a vein of blue nestled amid rolling hills.
“And then, there it was,” Cordalis said. “Or there it wasn’t. The dam was gone.”
For the first time in a century, water flowed freely through that area of the river. Cordalis felt like she was seeing her homelands restored.
Tears of joy began to roll down her cheeks. “I just cried so hard because it was so beautiful.”
The experience was also “profound” for Bransom. “It really was literally a jolt of energy that flowed through us,” he said, calling the visit “perhaps one of the most touching, most moving moments in my entire life”.
Demolition on Copco 2 was completed in November, with work starting on the other three dams. The entire project is scheduled to wrap in late 2024.
[A resilient river]
But experts like McCovey say major hurdles remain to restoring the river’s historic salmon population.
Climate change is warming the water. Wildfires and flash floods are contaminating the river with debris. And tiny particles from rubber vehicle tires are washing off roadways and into waterways, where their chemicals can kill fish within hours.
McCovey, however, is optimistic that the dam demolitions will help the river become more resilient.
“Dam removal is one of the best things we can do to help the Klamath basin be ready to handle climate change,” McCovey explained. He added that the river’s uninterrupted flow will also help flush out sediment and improve water quality.
The removal project is not the solution to all the river’s woes, but McCovey believes it’s a start — a step towards rebuilding the reciprocal relationship between the waterway and the Indigenous people who rely on it.
“We do a little bit of work, and then we start to see more salmon, and then maybe we get to eat more salmon, and that starts to help our people heal a little bit,” McCovey said. “And once we start healing, then we’re in a place where we can start to help the ecosystem a little bit more.”"
-via Al Jazeera, December 4, 2023
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yessirplease69 · 3 months
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❝Domain Expansion: Love❞
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Synopsis: You are Gojo Satoru's only weakness. When the bearer of the Six Eyes discerns that your life is in jeopardy, he will do everything to keep you safe.
෴ Genre: fiction, fanfiction, mystery, dark fantasy, short story, one shot, romance, imagine.
෴ Content: husband!gojo satoru × wife!reader, jujutsu society, sorcerer!reader, angst, fluff, sensitive content, bloodshed, suggestive (mature content), satoru gojo!yandere, satoru gojo!tsundere, this takes place shortly before the shibuya incident arc, reader has a maternal relationship with megumi, pregnancy.
෴ Word Count: 3.4K
— Oi, I ain't revised it yet, so sorry if there's any mistakes! Hope u enjoy it 🤞✨
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Satoru Gojo is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in existence. However, the moment he sees you, his beautiful wife, unconscious on the battlefield with nearly incurable wounds, this man's world crumbles completely. Suddenly, all of his physical and mental energy is being drained, even his enthusiasm to exorcise curses vanishes. He is motionless in place, trembling enough with wide eyes under the black blindfold, and even though they are hidden, they scrutinize all the blood leaving different parts of your body. Minutes ago, there was a stupid and arrogant smile shaping the face of the confident man all the time as he killed horrendous creatures. A countenance of terror overtakes his face now. He feels his legs weakening, his feet seem to be too far from the ground, and he remembers that he is not manipulating the space to make it levitate. He is feeling weak for not having been able to arrive in time to protect you, this emotion has intertwined with him. Especially since Satoru Gojo never even had a weakness until you came into his life.
His heart is beating rapidly and his breath is so intense that all the curses around him are impacted by the reaction of the mighty man among them. Time frenetically ceases as the strong cursed technique is creating an invisible barrier in the air and continues to repel the malevolent creatures that persist in their futile attempt to touch the bearer of Mukagen and Rokugan, while he himself is left vulnerable like a puppy that has just lost its owner.
Didn't she use the reverse cursed technique to stay healed?
Why...
"Satoru." The presence and hesitant voice of Nanami become noticeable at a certain distance. The tie-wearing sorcerer clenches his jaw, too tense as he sees you in a deplorable state. Nanami fails to try not to show all his agony. Witnessing one of his closest friends on the brink of death equals the feeling of having his heart cut with the cursed blade he carries.
Amid the scene, Satoru is lowering the blindfold covering his eyes, the white locks of hair cascading as the black cloth falls. The fabric hangs on his neck before revealing the orbs, the bright blue darkening as a storm brews within them. A lost and distressed gaze is exposed on his face, as if you somehow took his emotions along with you.
"My wife shouldn't be on that suicide mission." The tone of voice of the Jujutsu High teacher is harsh, firm in the way he usually imposes on a very serious subject. A power which makes the walls vibrate when he is arguing with Gakuganji. He is so angry.
As he melancholically walks towards you, the semi-grade 1 curses around him are exploded in a matter of seconds. There are parts of physical structures scattered and fluids like blood painting the ground at this moment, justified by the power of his ability to manipulate space.
"I should've just isolated her from the world, maybe locked her on the 15th floor of a building and then acted as if I didn't do that." A small sad smile forms on the edge of his mouth, he is imagining how you would laugh at this idea if you were conscious now. You would probably find it absurd and put him to sleep on the couch.
Damn, he misses you and wonders why it hurts so much. His intention is to act quickly to take you to the jujutsu sorcerer doctors and stay by your side the whole time while they are taking care of you. He will not leave you for even a minute, and those are the words of Gojo Satoru against anyone. If someone dares to touch you right in front of him, he will definitely be willing to kill.
The strongest sorcerer abandons these thoughts, he does not hesitate to carefully wrap his arms around your body, holding you close to his chest. The man notices the wounds on parts of your face, your jujutsu uniform is dirty with blood and so destroyed, revealing your naked skin. The sweet taste on his tongue is bitter now, his mind can only focus on the fact that you suffered from fighting until you could not take it anymore. You resisted too much because of your undeniable strength, and on one hand he feels so proud of it. He loves showing everyone that his wife is one of the best professional jujutsu sorcerers, strong like him. But you should not be dealing with this cruel world. You are the most precious thing to him.
Satoru could feel your energy miles away, making it easy to identify your presence. But now he's not sensing any cursed energy flowing according to your emotions. It's all so quiet and calm. The powerful energy emanation should be surrounding your body as it always has, but it's as if something inside you is blocking it right now, since he can't feel your aura. It's different. He will question Shoko about this as soon as he takes your body to her for analysis.
"Do not mention it to the students, especially Megumi." The request leaves Satoru's mouth like a command. He imagines how the teenage Fushiguro would react upon finding out your condition, as you had become a maternal figure by making sure to take care of him since he was so young. The spiky-haired student is on a mission with others, and the best choice is not to disclose the information as the bad news would have a big negative impact on the boy. Gojo knows you would want that too.
On the other side of the area, the grade 1 sorcerer nods in deep silence. Nanami feels the muscles strengthen beneath his formal clothes. He is aware of the gravity of the situation, the actions and the consequences. He is not one to conceal lies, but that will be an exception he makes.
"She's losing a lot of blood." The blond man pushes his glasses closer to his eyes with his hands as he gazes at the white-haired sorcerer. He sighs deeply, containing the desperation within him. "Take her out of here before it's too late."
"Thank you, Nanami."
And that was the last thing Satoru Gojo said before teleporting with you unconscious in his arms.
෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊
The night takes over the city, darkness has crept upon Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, and 2 hours have passed since the sorcerer of the Six Eyes emerged in the place, insane, with you clinging to his chest and enraged enough as he searched for an available doctor. Gojo laid your body down onto the nearest stretcher, his hands dirty and consumed by your blood, staining the sheets red and making a mess. 2 hours ago he was screaming at anyone who crossed his path. At this moment, silence hangs in the air like a fog, it is peaceful again behind the school doors.
In one of the infirmary rooms, you are peacefully sleeping on the stretcher. Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion, your body completely healed through the spell cursed technique reversal performed by professionals. The minor wounds and even the most serious ones - like the rupture of your rib - had vanished, and your skin is renewed under the hospital gown you are now dressed in. Sitting in a chair quite close to you, the strongest sorcerer is comfortable with legs apart, assuming a relaxed posture as he rests the upper part of his body on your legs enclosed by the sheets. Satoru Gojo is resting, his eyelids is closed and his head supported by his own arms. He spent so much time watching you sleep that his eyes were influenced by exhaustion. Satoru has no idea of the time he spent caressing your face, running his fingers through your hair, and kissing your forehead several times before settling into his current position. His neck is turned towards the ceiling, his white hair falling naturally loose. There is only a black t-shirt hugging his torso as he had taken off the jacket of his jujutsu attire since your blood had stained most of his clothes. The exposed skin of his arms is almost glistening in the light of the room.
He has kept you safe all this time, only leaving you when he realized that everything was under control. The man always ensures to protect you at all costs, even though most of the time you don't need it. After inspecting the entire perimeter and realizing that you were safe at Jujutsu High, he went to finish the mission that was according to the superiors, just as it had been ordered to you. Since he completed the task of exorcising a special grade curse, his precious time now remains only for you. By the time indicated on the wall clock, Satoru wishes so much to take you home and he only thinks about holding you close until morning comes again. Nevertheless, Shoko was quite insistent when she said that you still require monitoring by a doctor, and that for now you should stay here. What did she mean by that?
This question echoes in Satoru's mind, suddenly he awakens fully and opens his eyes as quickly as if he felt some creature attacking him without warning. A movement of your legs under the sheets does not go unnoticed by him, his blue orbs almost popping out as they contemplate you lazily waking up from eternal rest. For him, it was truly eternal.
"I knew you were here." You whisper. Your voice is weak from just waking up, but a strong smile spreads across your face when your eyes slowly open and meet the white mane. You try to push yourself up out of bed using your arms, but your efforts are blocked by Satoru.
"Babyyy! Easy, easy." Your husband gestures with his hands, a gaze of relief on his face. You're really strong, huh? He is smiling like a little boy who just tasted his favorite mochi flavor, and you are certain you see stars twinkling in his eyes. "Gee, you're already eager to fly."
"Satoru, if you don't let me get out of this bed right now, I swear I don't know what I'll do."
"When in doubt, do nothing." He is clapping consistently to highlight the idea. "Settle that cute and pretty booty down right there, I've locked all the doors and you ain't leaving here. Now tell me how you're feeling, my lovely wife. That's all that matters to me."
"Argh." A small huff of air escapes your lips while you roll your eyes towards the ceiling, defeated enough. The man right next to you is playfully disapproving of your behavior. "I'm fine, 'Toru. You know that better than I do. My skin's just tingling from someone else's reverse technique." You report during the time you notice the scars that have formed on your arm after the outcome of the cursed method. A technique that you have the experience to perform on yourself. After all, you don't carry the title of special grade sorcerer for nothing.
"Nah, don't sweat it. I'm gonna take good care of you." There's an intense gaze that matches his words. The man emits a little chuckle as he realizes he managed to tease you with that.
"And where's 'Gumi?" You inquire, more to yourself than to Satoru. Your eyes are scanning the entire room in search of finding the black-haired teenage boy. You still ponder the king of curse's intentions towards Megumi, it consumes you and leaves you with a nagging feeling.
"You're more worried 'bout him than 'bout yourself, heh." The man raises his eyebrows, indignation stamped on them. A comical expression, almost too much. "You know that tough boy is independent, he's able to handle anything. Can you chill out for a minute, lady?" Satoru's smile broadens before he proceeds: "I took care of everything already, I told him to swing by here before heading to the dorm. Didn't go into the details, of course."
"He's probably gonna be surprised to find out we're here at Jujutsu High at this time of night... Guess I must have slept for a while, right?" You touch the skin of your husband as you place your hand on his face, and give a radiant smile as you realize that there is no invisible barrier holding you apart, even though he always deactivates it when he is with you. "Hey. Thank you for keeping things on the down low. And for everything you do for me."
"Awww! You're welcome, bae." Satoru copies the way you smile, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace. He puts his hand right on top of yours, the wedding rings on your fingers colliding with each other. "Ain't nobody care 'bout me like that. What did I do to not deserve it?"
"It's like I wouldn't be worried about you even if you could move mountains with just your own thoughts." You are rolling your eyes for the second time. Once you blink, he is staring at you with a stern and intimidating look.
"I'm the one here who got the most worried 'cause you got me feelin' this way. A guy like me shouldn't have these kinds of feelings." His voice is husky and his cold blue eyes unravel your soul, the temperature is freezing you. "Don't do that again, or I'll lose my mind and kill anyone around me." The way he adresses this, it is not a bluff. It seems like an objective he would fulfill, a mission that would not require anyone's authorization, not even the higher-ups of the Jujutsu society.
"Satoru..."
"You're trying to make me a widower, hah?" His voice becomes light again, genuine good humor returns. Now he has a broad smile on his face, the eyes are nearly closing due to that action. As if he hadn't announced something so violent just 10 seconds ago. "If I tally up how many folks got worried 'bout you, there won't be enough fingers on Sukuna's hand to count it."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that." You are making amends, and he cannot resist gazing at your lips without stealing a quick kiss. A man clingy to his wife. "I had just exorcised a special grade cursed spirit when I started feeling dizzy. My head began to spin."
Satoru reveals a pensive expression on the face, one hand resting on his chin. The most powerful sorcerer is contemplating all the possibilities to uncover the reason behind that eventuality concerning your cursed technique.
"So, I suppose that might have been the reason you didn't recover yourself at that moment, considering you experienced signs of fainting. Your brain became destabilized." He pronounces, cautiously, witnessing you confirm the information. "Were you feeling like that before you got the fight started?"
"When we split up to head towards the mission I was feeling fine." The corner of your mouth moves, you display your teeth to the man in an attempt to reassure him. Gosh, he is being so serious about that. "Maybe I used up too much of my energy, I guess I hit my limit. That's it."
"Hmm, there's something more. It's interesting and surprising how your energy flow is strongest now." The white-haired man is examining you with a curious look.
"Are you saying I'm accumulating this more than usual? Is that possible?"
"It's a fact. And I'm the one confirming it, little sweetheart." There is a smug smile playing on his lips. "But at least you're feeling better right now, yeah?"
"Hell yeah, I feel brand spanking new thanks to Shoko's skills!" You are shooting fire arrows with your eyes towards the bold man. "Can you stop staring at my tits now?"
"I'm just checking to make sure everything's really okay." He speaks with such honesty, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. Satoru cannot shake off the thought of how beautiful you look to him, a very sugary sweet and his favorite. You make him feel so mushy and nearly diabetic.
However, Gojo Satoru is a natural provocateur.
"You're getting on my nerves, 'Toru."
He opens his mouth to laugh out loud, giving you a wink. You also join in his laughter as he starts poking your body several times, this real jokerster tickling you. The antics are suddenly interrupted the moment someone knocks on the door. Shoko Ieiri appears seconds later behind it, revealing only the upper part of her body.
"Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." She smiles faintly, continuing: "I need a quick minute to talk to Satoru." The experienced doctor has a lit cigarette between her fingers, she is pointing it in your direction. You see its tip sparkling at you. "And you, go rest. Don't even think about escaping from that stretcher until we come back."
"You heard that, huh? This time it didn't come out of my mouth." Gojo has one finger pointed at the tongue he sticks out.
You gaze at them and fold your arms, simply accepting your fate.
"Alright. Goodbye." You are turning your back on them and burrowing into the blanket. "If possible, turn off the light before you guys leave."
"Going to sleep without giving me a kiss? That's not fair." Satoru is shocked enough, a pout forming on his lips and a puppy dog look in his eyes. He truly displays his emotions, reminding you of how every night Satoru Gojo questions that same thing after going to bed with you. Every night, the same thing.
"Okay, you two. I'll wait outside." The woman manages to capture the attention of both of you before the noise of her high heels against the floor fades away.
As soon as she departs, warm lips land on the side of your neck and journey up to your mouth. You need to raise your head to reach Satoru's lips, his skin burning against yours like a flame. The instant his hand wraps around the flesh of your waist and grips it tightly, you understand that he would never let you escape his grasp, or his domain expansion. He is kissing you as if he were thirsty and you were the water fountain, this man is showing you how much he requires you in his life. Preferably alive, of course. Otherwise, he will make sure of it for you.
"Hmmm, get outta here. I promise I'll make it up to you with a full kiss later." You moan at the touch, trying not to show that you're shivering just to not further inflate his already oversized ego. As if it were possible to be any bigger than usual.
"Oh, is that so? You know I'll hold you to that, babe." He growls near your ear.
At the moment the sorcerer is leaving the room, he halts on his path and gives you a long look with his blue eyes. Inside them, Satoru harbors concern.
"What's going on?"
"I'm feeling sorry for my friend." Ieiri ignores Satoru, making one's way to her desk. Instantly, a breeze from outside the window extinguishes the cigarette ember in her hand, smoke spreading throughout the room. "She is truly doomed to sacrifice her life, including putting up with your strong-willed nature for the rest of her life."
"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" Satoru wears a playful smile on his lips. He places his hands in his trouser pockets in a relaxed and unconcerned posture, anticipating a highly amusing joke.
"You have no idea what's happening, do you? And what's going to happen from now on." She sets aside the cigarette, burying it in the ashtray on the table. Gojo watches everything attentively before rolling his eyes, he's starting to get bored with all the fuss. "But I believe you may have already noticed that the train is off the rails."
The doctor is moving around the small armchair in the room. When Shoko sits down, she leans her back against the backrest and then crosses her legs, silently facing Satoru. The expression on the white-haired man's face is impassive. He wishes he had the ability to read minds.
"Y/N is pregnant, Satoru." The sound of Ieiri's sigh is loud. "She is carrying your child in her womb. It's extraordinary that the baby has survived."
Satoru Gojo's world crumbles once more, for the second time that day. Not only is his own world shaken, but also the entire Jujutsu society.
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satorusugurugurl · 6 months
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
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