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#Rethinking Readiness
mono-multi · 6 months
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the process is referred to as ‘trial and error’, not ‘trial and success’.
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bitchforaboyband · 8 months
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07/02/2024, the day when Mr Damon Baker answered the age old question
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bakingcakeroll · 11 days
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Is Sprout still bleached? Or is he still sick
" I dunno.. He's sleeping right now, looking a bit pale. Um.. Sprout's probably still sick, though. " ".. i just realized i have to stay with him and that he might have to stay in my bed. "
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leafywillow · 11 months
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curly bob superiority
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crybaby-bkg · 5 months
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just got my lashes done for the first time in five years today and they’re so pretty I can’t stop staring at them 🥹🥹🥹🥹 I was so nervous at first bc my sensory issues have gotten worse and I was soooo scared that I’d feel a bunch of poking and that the glue would burn my eyes too much, but she was so gentle that I don’t even feel them 😭😭
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wavvie · 8 months
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you ask me "what do i think of life?" - i said "baby not much, i wanna die" 👻
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meaningtotellyou · 1 year
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flowerakatsuka · 3 months
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kuroba not liking to talk about their time in high school and the one yotsubana florals employee that's actively attending akatsuka high hating kara's guts so he refuses to tell him where he goes to school is doing a lot of legwork when it comes to the whole " kurokara don't realize they went to school together until the reunion " situation.
#they manage this despite knowing each other for over a year and a half before the reunion happens#i've talked about how kuroba finds out a little but i think the sextuplets would find out while looking through the yearbook#kara points out a photo of the morning glories that the beautification committee took care of and start waxing on about them#but then choro cuts him off bc hey doesn't this person in the photo look kinda like....#they flip through the pages and yep there's youtsubana kuroba in the 3rd year student headshots#they're all kinda shocked bc why the hell did this never come up before and they get mad at kara about it#kara was curious about where they went to hs but never pushed the topic since he knew kuro didn't like talk about it#they did mention that they didn't have a great time in high school so maybe they weren't at the reunion#so hopefully they didn't see what happened and the one person who gives them unconditional kindness doesn't start to rethink things#but then totty gets a notification for a picture from the reunion that dobusu posted. and it's with kuroba.#kara immediately gets sidetracked by the picture tho bc holy shit it's kuro in formal wear and totty has to peel his hands off his phone#okay i didn't mean to ramble in tags again oops#i gotta go get ready for work now 😭#maybe i'll try designing that employee i mentioned bc he still doesn't have a solid design yet#we'll get you a design soon hisoka i prommy#oc : kuroba#ship : kurokara#mj rambles
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cherrygarden · 5 months
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happy birthday lesbians on my computer!!!
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tvrningout · 10 months
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pls know that when i get around to it ( which will be soon ), i'm gonna go insane talking about endir's domain/the afterlife bc it's basically the spirit realm and it's its own thing entirely -- a whole society?? pretty much dwells there bc how is endir supposed to care for, sort, punish, etc. so many souls alone?? impossible my friends. he's got a whole court/network of people who help him. i just gotta decide if his castle has hammerspace essentially or if there's a city behind it....... either way, what if your muse was dead and met the big guy of the afterlife and became one of his little helpers huh
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mono-multi · 6 months
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for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced
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minglana · 1 year
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i forgot its getting late here..... im still in the mindset that i need to study for tomorrow so to me its like if it was like 5pm right now. hate it. im not gonna make it out alive tomorrow
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starting the conversation for anyone who wants to. i've been thinking a bit about how to do neurodivergence activism yk? i always am. but like. what if i feel more autonomy not sharing every single hard thing about my life? how can i advocate for people like me then? what are the different ways of reaching people, different ways of telling stories and taking a sense of ownership over what needs it but platforming voices who need it too? activism that doesn't simply attract a niche, an echo chamber, but is both cryptic and specific and also genre bending but like for the genres of social interaction?
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fioiswriting · 5 months
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Muña | one shot
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Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.
Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)
TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread
Words count : 8064
AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.
Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 
Enjoy 🖤
The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 
You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.
At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 
For now, you just needed to be left alone.
You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.
Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.
"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."
A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.
You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"
He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 
If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 
You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.
“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.
"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."
"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 
Everything he wasn't. 
'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”
You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.
The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 
As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.
It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.
 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.
You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.
 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 
You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.
He was so predictable. 
“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.
"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.
The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.
*** 
As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 
He had become a strong man, indeed.
But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.
"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 
"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?
To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 
His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 
Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 
But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.
You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 
After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.
"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 
“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."
You hesitated, suddenly unsure.
You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 
Fuck.
“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 
As if to unveil what he held within himself. 
“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”
His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 
"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 
You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 
You knew men who were less patient.
Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”
You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 
An unpleasant heat. 
A hint of irritation.
You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.
“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.
You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 
“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.
Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.
The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.
You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.
You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.
To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 
After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.
Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.
So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?
His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 
And all you felt was fire.
And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 
You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.
But you didn't care.
You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 
Jace almost choked. 
He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.
And you hadn't removed your hand. 
An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 
Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.
"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.
He cleared his throat and coughed again.
“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 
Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 
You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.
The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.
"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 
Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.
He was hard.
Perfect.
It was you who provoked this. 
He responded to your touch.
You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"
He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 
As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.
"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.
Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.
And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.
You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.
*** 
It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.
It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.
Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.
No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.
The only problem was you were distant and elusive.
Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.
It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 
And that was something Jace hadn't considered.
He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  
Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 
He clenched his jaw.
All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.
Fuck.
His breeches were really becoming too tight.
You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 
Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 
He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 
Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.
This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.
He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.
His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.
Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 
And he needed more, infinitely more.
You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.
"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 
But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 
"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 
He wanted more. 
He needed more. 
More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.
Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.
“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.
Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.
Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 
You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 
You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.
But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 
“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".
The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.
But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.
The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 
And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 
Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.
"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 
You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.
You hated that feeling. 
You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.
You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 
He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 
You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 
You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"
Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 
He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.
But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.
Your eyes widened.
Jace. 
Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 
Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 
This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 
Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.
Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.
Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 
"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”
And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 
Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.
This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.
"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.
And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.
Oh, but if she knew.
*** 
Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 
Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.
Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.
You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 
And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.
Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.
Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.
He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.
"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"
If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.
You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.
But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.
You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"
You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.
Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
You looked ravishing.
"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 
But you had no desire to be responsible.
His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.
"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 
You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.
To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.
And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.
He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.
Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 
You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 
So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 
The sensation was delicious. 
The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 
You let your lips brush against his.
He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 
His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.
"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."
You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 
You could see through his game. 
He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.
"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."
Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 
"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."
And with that, he pulled you into his room.
*** 
Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.
Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.
You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 
The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.
You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.
You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.
You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."
Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.
You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.
It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.
But Jace was your future husband.
You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 
"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.
And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.
One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.
When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.
You wouldn't last long, your release close.
Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 
"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."
And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.
It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.
Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.
You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.
A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."
His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 
"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.
After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.
You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.
Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.
But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.
So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.
"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.
He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 
It wasn't enough.
"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.
You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 
And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 
You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 
Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 
You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.
It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.
Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.
You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.
One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 
He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."
That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.
He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 
You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.
"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.
And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.
"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."
And he smiled.
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bartxnhood · 2 months
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mayberry | t.o
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tyler owens x fem!reader
based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.
warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.
w/c: 1.8k
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.
tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.
a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.
tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.
that’s why he took such a liking to you.
tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.
till you began chasing with him.
since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.
before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.
“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.
“you think she’ll say yes?”
tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.
tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.
he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.
the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.
“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”
there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.
tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.
“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.
“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.
you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.
there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”
“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”
“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.
you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”
you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”
you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.
the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.
tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.
its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.
“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.
“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.
“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.
lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”
“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.
“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.
tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.
his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.
there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.
the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.
the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.
pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.
“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.
“hold on tight!” you scream.
the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.
tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.
the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.
tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.
tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.
“y/n!” he hollers.
“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.
tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.
he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.
finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.
his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.
as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.
he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.
"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."
you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”
tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”
boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”
tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.
“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.
“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.
his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”
tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.
you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.
you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.
“what?” you look up at him.
and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.
“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.
“i would love to live with you.”
tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.
“now i just needa marry you.”
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krosiefics · 3 months
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sleep talking • lee minho
MDNI 18+
WC: 795
Synopsis: in the teen vogue interview the members said that minho sleep-talks and soooo well my brain decided to spew this out…
Tags: pure smut, afab!reader, needy!minho, unprotected sex (be safe please), fingering, use of pet names (baby, love, etc), minho had a wet dream while sleep talking, established relationship, parasomnia, sleep talking, grinding, cockwarming(?), lwk dry humping, oneshot
You unlock the door of your apartment quietly, unsure if your boyfriend was asleep or not. You sneakily walked through the kitchen, leaving your bag and accessories on the counter top. A small purr caught your attention, you turn to your right and see Dori rustling around on the cat tower, he cuddles next to Doongie who doesn’t flinch when Soongi’s foot twitches and smacks him in the face.
You smile at your babies before creaking the bedroom door open, peeking inside seeing Minho curled up in the bed, his arms holding onto your pillow. You smile softly at him before slipping into the room, gently closing the door behind. You’re too tired to shower today and decide to just shower in the morning. After you change into your pajamas, you attempt to wiggle the pillow that Minho grasps.
“No, don't go.” Minho mumbled quietly, “I love you.” His grasp on the pillow tightens, pulling it closer, causing you to be pulled on top of him. The moment he felt an extra weight on him, Minho’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as if you were the pillow. “So soft.” He muttered. You smiled at the sleeping boy, Minho tended to sleeptalk, it was endearing hearing him talk out loud while he was dreaming. You plant a small kiss on his forehead. His face scrunched up, groaning as you finally pushed the pillow out from between your bodies.
“Mm…need it.” Minho grunted, you look at him, assuming he meant the pillow, but as you snuggle back into his hold you realize what he meant. Something poked at your front once you settled in. Your eyes shoot open as you feel him start grinding against your body. “Shit.” You sigh under your breath, “Need it.” Minho whimpered as his hands instinctively started roaming your body.
Your mind is filled with the temptation of taking him right now, but Minho being asleep made you rethink your wants. He stirs awake, his hips still rutting against yours. “Love, please.” Your eyes meet his, which have fluttered open slightly. You feel your cheeks warm up as his hands squeeze your ass. “Baby…please.” He pleaded, now fully awake.
“Fuck,” You moan softly as his hand comes around the front and touches your warm cunt. Minho gave you pleading eyes, his clothed cock rubbing against your pelvis. You nod at him giving him the go-ahead, the both of you were too tired to do this right, so he shakily moved your loose pajama shorts to the side as well as your panties. His calloused fingers flicking at your clit before sliding between your slick folds. You squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure as two of his fingers slip inside your leaking hole. Minho’s thumb sloppily rubbing circles on your clit.
After a few minutes of Minho stretching you out, you spread your legs, nudging him with your knee that you are ready. Minho took your hint and shakily took his hard cock out of his sweatpants. He swung your legs over his hip as the two of you laid there. Minho aligned hs cock to your wet cunt and slid the tip in slowly until he bottomed out. You laid there, the feeling of his warmth filling you up sent more arousal down your leg. Every now and then one of you would move or grind your hips into each other.
“Feel so warm.” Minho sighed as he buried his head in your neck, leaving kitten licks on your collarbone. You moaned softly as his teeth grazed over your skin. He suddenly started pumping himself slowly into you. Small whines slipped from your mouth as he sensually moved out of you. Minho’s grunts in your ear were enough to send you over the edge, but you held off. His hand came down to play with your ass once again. “So good.” You whimpered as his other hand played with your clit.
“Love you.” Minho whined against your skin. “Love you too Min.” Your fingers dug into his back
Minho started leaving kisses up your neck until he reached your lips. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, but neither of you cared, both too exhausted. Minho’s pace slightly sped up as he neared his climax, his fingers continuously assaulting your clit. “Min,” You cried quietly as you felt your orgasm hit you. He continued thrusting himself into you, though you whimpered at the overstimulation, “I know love,” He cooed, “almost there.”
A few thrusts later he filled you up. He slipped out of you, reaching over for the tissues that sat on the bedside table. Cleaning himself and your body up slowly as you laid there for him. Within ten minutes the two of you were out. Peacefully snuggled into each other.
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