slt4kavanagh

[slt4kavanagh]

Hi! Could you write a story where Johnny's dating a really inexperienced girl and for months he'd had her first time planned and it happens on a Friday night and it ends up being really sweet, he's super gentle with her and gives her really good aftercare?

all the time in the world

pairing: johnny kavanagh x fem!reader

tw: smut

a/n: taken me a little while, sorry abt that tysm for being so patient with me xx

masterlist !

you knew from early on that johnny was different. not just because he was sweet, or charming, or looked at you like you were the most important thing in the room—but because he treated you in a way that felt… rare. delicate, almost. like you were something he needed to protect.

you hadn’t done anything like this before. you’d told him that one night—curled up in his bed with your face buried in his chest, your cheeks burning, voice so quiet he barely heard it. and he didn’t tease you, didn’t make a joke like you thought he might. instead, he kissed the top of your head and said, “whenever you’re ready. and only if.”

he’d waited. never rushed you, not once. every time he kissed you, every time he touched you, he made sure you were okay. it was always slow, always soft. he never took more than you were willing to give.

but tonight felt different.

you showed up a little after six, dressed in one of his hoodies and leggings, your hair half-up the way he liked. he’d ordered your favorite dinner without asking, knowing you wouldn’t be able to eat much if you were too nervous to decide. you both watched a movie—some random romantic comedy you picked to distract yourself—and johnny let it play, only half paying attention as you leaned into his side, your eyes flicking toward him every few minutes.

when the movie ended and the credits rolled, you shifted, drawing your knees up onto the couch. your fingers twisted in the fabric of his hoodie, nervous energy buzzing under your skin.

“can we go upstairs?” you asked, your voice soft, almost unsure.

johnny blinked, his heart thudding in his chest before settling into something calmer. he turned to you, watching you closely, studying your face. “you sure?”

you nodded, slowly, your chest tightening a little. “yeah. i want to.”

he didn’t tease you. didn’t get cocky or smug. his expression stayed warm, quiet, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. he just smiled that smile you trusted so much, the one that made everything feel right. “okay,” he said, holding out his hand. “come on then.”

his room was calm, almost peaceful, lit by the soft glow of his bedside lamp. instrumental music played quietly in the background—just something soothing, no lyrics, nothing distracting. it felt like he’d planned this, made sure everything was perfect for you. he’d changed the sheets earlier, straightened up the room, and left your favorite hoodie folded neatly at the end of his bed. just in case.

you stood near the door for a moment, your eyes scanning the room, unsure of where to start, your hands tucked into your sleeves. he didn’t rush you, didn’t push you. he just stepped closer, slow and careful, like he was giving you the time you needed. his gaze was soft, full of understanding.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, almost like he was reading your thoughts.

you nodded, but your throat was tight, the words stuck somewhere inside. you just needed a second.

johnny was patient. he always was. he waited, his hand hanging loosely by his side, giving you space.

“we don’t have to do anything,” johnny said gently, his voice soft like he was afraid the moment might slip away. “not unless you’re really sure.”

you looked up at him, nerves flickering in your eyes, but underneath them, there was something steadier. something quiet, brave.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i trust you.”

johnny’s chest tightened at that, and all he could do was nod. no jokes, no teasing. just pure, quiet understanding in his eyes.

he leaned in then, kissing you slow and soft—like he had all the time in the world. like he had nowhere else to be. like you were the only thing that mattered.

you melted into the kiss, your nerves still buzzing beneath your skin, but it felt quieter now. johnny’s hands stayed on your waist, warm and steady, not moving until you leaned in closer, giving him silent permission.

“lie down with me?” he asked softly, his lips still brushing against yours.

you nodded, and your hand found his, letting him lead you over to the bed. the sheets were cool, smelling faintly of him—clean, a little like aftershave and something familiar you couldn’t quite name. you sat on the edge while he knelt in front of you, his fingers brushing over your thighs.

“you’re still okay?” he asked, his gaze locked on yours, steady, kind.

“yeah,” you breathed. “just… nervous.”

he smiled then, but not teasingly—just full of affection, like he saw you for exactly who you were. “that’s alright. you don’t have to be anything else.”

he kissed you again—slower this time, deeper, but never overwhelming. his one hand slid up under the hem of the hoodie you wore, resting lightly against your side. you nodded when he paused, and only then did he ease the hoodie up and over your head, revealing the soft tank top beneath.

johnny didn’t rush. he touched you like you might break, like you were something sacred. his fingers traced up your arms, across your shoulders, over your collarbone.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmured, like it was a fact. not something you had to earn, not something you needed to hear to feel better—but something he just knew.

your hands were shaking a little when you reached for the hem of his shirt, but he helped you. he pulled it off, tossed it aside, and kissed you again—lightly, once, then again. his mouth moved down your jaw, to your neck, always careful, always waiting.

he laid you back slowly, letting you adjust, his eyes never leaving your face. his hands explored your skin with patience, never rushing, always checking in, making sure you were still okay.

“tell me if you want to stop,” he whispered, his voice low, full of sincerity. “promise me.”

“i promise,” you whispered back, your breath shaky but steady.

his fingers brushed under the waistband of your leggings, pausing to check if you were still comfortable. “okay?”

you nodded, your heart thumping harder in your chest. “okay.”

he undressed you gently, piece by piece, like every part of you was something to admire. and when you were beneath him, flushed and quiet, johnny didn’t just stare—he smiled, kissed you again, and whispered, “you’re perfect, y/n.”

his touch never strayed too far too fast. every bit of skin he uncovered—your stomach, your hips, the inside of your thigh—he kissed like it meant something. like you meant something. soft, reverent, like he was memorizing you.

you lay beneath him, heart racing, your skin warm under his hands, but your eyes never left his. you were nervous, sure—but not scared. not with him. not when he looked at you like that—like you were something he’d been waiting for. not just wanting, waiting.

he pressed a kiss to your lips, slow and grounding. “you’re okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady against your mouth. “i’ve got you.”

you nodded, breath catching as his hand slipped between your legs. gentle. careful. he didn’t rush or try to overwhelm you. he just watched you—every shift, every breath—like he was listening to what your body needed.

your eyes fluttered closed at the first soft touch, a quiet sound escaping your throat, and he leaned in to kiss you again.

“just like that,” he murmured. “you’re doing so good for me.”

his praise made something bloom in your chest, warm and calming. he took his time, easing you into it with steady hands and quiet words. it didn’t feel like he was just trying to get you ready—it felt like he wanted you to feel loved. safe. seen.

when you finally whispered that you were ready, he paused. kissed you deep and slow, his forehead resting against yours.

“are you sure?” he asked, one last time.

“i’m sure,” you breathed.

he lined himself up with you slowly, carefully, never breaking your gaze. his hand stayed in yours, holding tight. and the moment he started to push in, your body tensed beneath him.

he stopped right away, lips brushing your temple.

“you’re okay,” he whispered, soothing and steady. “breathe. we’ll go slow, alright?”

you nodded, fingers tightening around his.

inch by inch, he eased into you, giving you time, letting you breathe through it. a soft whimper slipped out, and he kissed it away, brushing your hair off your forehead with a hand that never stopped shaking just slightly.

“you’re doing perfect,” he murmured. “just let me take care of you.”

when he was finally all the way in, he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust. he kissed you then—soft and deep and full of emotion—while his hand stroked gently along your side.

“you feel so good,” he whispered against your skin. “i’ve got you.”

he moved slow, watching your face, reading every signal you gave. your fingers clutched at his back, your breaths coming in soft, shaky little gasps. and soon enough, the tension started to melt into something else. something warmer. something good.

he kept whispering to you—calling you beautiful, telling you how proud he was, how much he cared. every movement was thoughtful, every touch gentle, like he wasn’t taking anything—just giving.

and when you looked up at him, eyes glassy and wide, he kissed you again like it was a promise. like he’d never hurt you. like he couldn’t.

johnny didn’t speed up, but you could feel the quiet intensity in him, the way his eyes stayed locked on yours like he couldn’t believe this was real. like he was holding something back—not because he didn’t want you, but because he did. because giving you everything meant putting you first.

his forehead stayed pressed to yours, breaths mixing as your bodies moved together. skin slick with heat, hearts pounding in sync. every time he rocked his hips into you, it was smooth, careful—measured like he wanted you to feel everything.

“you feel so good, baby,” he whispered against your lips, voice rough and tender all at once. “so warm… so perfect around me.”

a soft whimper slipped from your throat, your fingers curling tighter around his shoulders. your head tilted back as his mouth trailed along your jaw, then down your neck, each kiss sending sparks skimming across your skin.

“you’re takin’ me so well,” he murmured, voice low and reverent. “you were made for this—swear you were made for me.”

every word struck something deep inside you, a heat curling in your stomach and blooming through your chest. you clung to him, your hips starting to move on instinct, meeting his thrusts, your body loosening and opening beneath his.

he groaned quietly as you moved with him, one of his hands sliding under your thigh to pull you even closer. “that’s it,” he breathed. “just like that, love. god—you’re so good for me.”

his rhythm never sped up, but each stroke got deeper, more intense, like he was sinking into you as far as he could go. his other hand cradled your face, thumb brushing soft across your cheek.

“you’re gonna come for me, yeah?” he said, voice thick with heat. “can feel you—so close, aren’t you?”

you nodded, barely able to get the words out. “johnny—i—i think i am—”

“that’s it,” he groaned. “don’t hold back, baby. want you to feel everything.”

he kissed you again—deeper this time—and it broke something open inside you. the pressure snapped, and you cried out softly into his mouth, back arching as the wave of pleasure rolled through you. your whole body trembled under his, breath catching, fingers digging into his skin.

“that’s my girl…” he whispered, voice wrecked but sweet. “so fuckin’ beautiful when you come.”

you barely had time to recover before he groaned again, your body pulsing tight around him, drawing him deeper. his thrusts faltered, rhythm growing shaky as he chased the edge, still holding you like you were the most important thing in the world.

but even then, he didn’t rush it.

he adjusted, slow and purposeful, the angle perfect—deep and low, the kind that made your stomach clench and your breath stutter.

“right there, yeah?” he murmured, eyes locked on yours.

you nodded fast, voice breaking. “yeah—johnny, oh my god—”

he kissed you hard, swallowing your gasp as you clenched again around him, and he groaned into your mouth.

“you feel that?” he whispered, desperate and reverent. “that’s me hittin’ your spot, love. gonna keep doin’ that ‘til you fall apart for me.”

his hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding that spot with perfect pressure, slow and steady, and you cried out again, your hips jerking, overwhelmed all over again.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he breathed, voice low and ragged against your skin. his lips found your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, each kiss tender and almost desperate. “you don’t even know what you do to me.”

you couldn’t even form a response—your hips moved on their own, rocking up to meet his, chasing the pressure, your fingers digging into his back like you couldn’t bear not to touch him. your breath came in soft, broken little gasps, and your skin felt hot everywhere he touched.

johnny’s fingers didn’t let up. his thumb circled exactly where you needed him, syncing perfectly with the slow, deep roll of his hips. he kept whispering to you, sweet and filthy all at once, his voice like warm honey right against your ear.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured, kissing your neck. “feel you squeezin’ me. fuck—you’re right there, love.”

your whole body tensed, trembling under him. “i am—i can’t—johnny—” your voice cracked on a gasp, eyes squeezing shut, everything in you coiling tighter and tighter.

he kissed you again, deep and messy this time, swallowing your shaky little sounds, his hands holding you steady.

“don’t hold it back,” he whispered against your lips. “let go for me. come for me, baby. come on. i’ve got you.”

and that was all it took.

your body snapped tight beneath him, a soft cry falling from your mouth as pleasure crashed over you in slow, sweeping waves. your thighs trembled around his hips, your hands clutched at his shoulders, and your chest heaved with every breathless moan.

johnny didn’t stop—he stayed right with you, his hands still moving soft and steady, his body rocking gently into yours, guiding you through it.

“that’s my girl,” he groaned, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your temple. “so good for me. gave me everything.”

you could barely breathe, your body overwhelmed, but you didn’t feel lost in it—you felt held. seen. every inch of you still wrapped in the warmth of his voice, the steadiness of his touch, the comfort of him.

you clung to him, panting, dazed, your head buried in the warm curve of his neck. his skin was soft against your cheek, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths as he held you like you were something breakable. something precious. neither of you moved at first—just breathing, tangled together in the hush of his room, letting everything settle.

johnny turned his head and kissed your temple, slow and soft, lips lingering like he didn’t want to leave you for even a second.

“you okay, baby?” he whispered, voice all tenderness.

you nodded into his neck, your voice barely there. “yeah… i’m okay. i’m really okay.”

he smiled so gently you could feel it against your skin, his hand brushing over the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. “you were perfect,” he murmured. “so perfect for me.”

he didn’t move right away—just stayed wrapped around you, arms firm but gentle, keeping you grounded, keeping you his. when he finally shifted, it was slow and careful, easing out of you with a quiet apology when you whimpered at the loss. he kissed you right after, cupping your face like you were still his whole world.

“i’ll be right back, love,” he said softly. “just gonna grab a towel, yeah?”

you nodded again, a little more awake now, and he kissed your forehead before slipping out of bed. you watched him move around the room—quiet and sure, tugging on his boxers, grabbing a warm towel from the bathroom and a glass of water from the desk. he didn’t rush, didn’t leave you alone too long. he never did.

when he came back, you were still curled up, skin flushed and glowing. he sat beside you and cleaned you up with soft, careful hands, checking your face every few seconds like he needed to know you were still okay. he didn’t miss a thing. every wipe was slow, every touch respectful, and he kept pressing little kisses to your skin—your knee, your hip, your shoulder—murmuring sweet things in between.

“you did so good for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice thick with awe. “so good.”

when he was done, he helped you sit up just enough to pull his hoodie over your head—your favorite one, soft and lived-in, warm from his body and smelling just like him. then he climbed in behind you, pulling the blankets up and wrapping himself around you from behind.

“drink a little,” he said gently, offering you the water.

you took a few sips, your hands still a little shaky, then nestled right back into him, your cheek against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat grounding you in the quiet.

his hand slid under the hoodie and began rubbing slow circles across your back, steady and soothing.

“was it okay?” you asked after a moment, small and uncertain.

he pulled you closer without hesitation, like holding you tighter was the only possible answer. he kissed your forehead, soft and sure.

“it was more than okay,” he whispered. “you were everything.”

you stayed there together, wrapped up in his arms, skin to skin under the covers. his fingers never stopped tracing slow patterns on your spine. every so often, he leaned down to kiss your hair, your cheek, your shoulder—whispering sweet, quiet things just for you.

“you’re safe.”

“you’re mine.”

“i’ve got you.”

and slowly, the last bit of tension left your body. your breathing evened out, your hand resting over his heart, warm and steady beneath your palm.

he stayed awake longer than you did, arms curled around you like a promise, watching the way your face softened in sleep, like he still couldn’t believe he got to hold you this way.

[slt4kavanagh]

his jersey

pairing: patrick feely x fem!reader

tw: smut

a/n: first smut ever posted? please lemme know if it’s good and if I should write more of it cause I was lowkey really nervous to write it

masterlist !

you didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal.

just threw on his jersey after the match — the navy one with his number stretched tight across your back — no makeup, hair up, bare legs peeking out underneath. comfortable. cute.

you padded into his room like it was nothing, scrolling your phone and flopping down on his bed while he was still pulling his rugby boots off.

he turned around and froze.

“jesus christ, girl…” his voice was low. rough.

you blinked up at him. “what?”

he dropped the boot in his hand, crossing the room in three strides.

“what d’ye mean, what?” he grabbed the bottom of the jersey, tugging it gently. “you’re wearin’ this and expect me to behave?”

you smirked. “it’s yours.”

“exactly.” his hands slid under the fabric, fingertips skimming the tops of your thighs. “and so are you.”

his mouth was on yours a second later — hot, hungry, full of frustration he didn’t bother hiding. he pulled you onto his lap, palms wide across your hips, thumbs digging into the softness there like he wanted to leave prints.

“look at yeh,” he breathed against your neck, biting gently at your jaw. “jersey barely covers your arse. tits pressed up against the badge like they belong there.”

“they do,” you whispered, breathless.

he growled — actually growled — before flipping you underneath him, the mattress creaking as his body settled between your legs.

“you’re never wearin’ this outta the house,” he muttered, already kissing down your collarbone. “mine.”

“bit possessive, aren’t you?”

“dead right i am.” he looked up at you, curls a mess and eyes dark. “you put this on, and it’s game over, love.”

his mouth trailed down your chest, slow at first, like he was savouring it — kissing the dip between your breasts, nosing along the edge of the jersey where it clung to your curves.

“you wearin’ anything under this?” he murmured, voice dark, teasing.

you didn’t answer.

his eyes flicked up. “jesus, you’re not, are you?”

your grin gave you away, and he swore under his breath, sitting back on his knees so he could look at you fully — legs splayed, hair messy, his jersey riding high up your thighs.

“you’re evil,” he said, hands dragging up the sides of your legs, slow and rough. “and i’m obsessed with you.”

“so do something about it, feely.”

he raised a brow like you’d just challenged him to a match. “oh, you want cocky?”

next thing you knew, he was manhandling you up, pulling the jersey over your head and tossing it aside, leaving you bare underneath him, flushed and breathing hard.

“fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “look at you… all soft and warm and mine.”

his hand slid down your body, pausing at your hip, thumb brushing across it like he wanted to commit every curve to memory. then lower, until his fingers found exactly where you needed him — and you gasped, grabbing at his shoulders.

“already soaked for me,” he murmured, eyes heavy-lidded. “you’re desperate.”

“so are you,” you breathed. “you’re shaking.”

he laughed, breathless and wrecked, curling his fingers until your hips bucked. “coz you’re unreal, pet. a dream. and i’m gonna make sure you feel just how mad i am about you.”

you moaned his name — once, twice — and then he was everywhere.

mouth on your neck, hand working you open, murmuring every filthy thing in that low Irish drawl that made your stomach twist.

“so fuckin’ good,”

“gonna take me so well,”

“let ‘em all talk — they’ve no idea how lucky i am.”

he lined himself up and sank in slowly, groaning deep in his throat, one hand gripping your waist like a lifeline.

“jesus… look at yeh. takin’ it like you were made for me.”

you could barely speak, fingers clutching at the sheets, thighs trembling already.

and he wasn’t even close to done with you.

he bottomed out with a slow roll of his hips, letting out a shaky breath as you gasped beneath him. one hand gripped your thigh, the other cradled your jaw — a perfect mix of control and care.

“there y’go,” he murmured, voice thick. “that’s it, love. just breathe f’me.”

you were already struggling — too full, too warm, too seen. patrick was staring down at you like you hung the feckin’ stars, mouth parted, curls sticking to his forehead. the kind of look that made your chest ache even as your legs trembled around him.

“you feel it, don’t you?” he whispered, nose brushing yours. “how perfect you are for me? tight little cunt grippin’ me like she doesn’t want to let go.”

you whined, nails digging into his shoulders, and he grinned.

“oh, you like that, yeah? you like when i talk to you like this?”

you nodded, hips twitching up instinctively, and he let out a low chuckle that vibrated through his chest.

“good girl,” he breathed, pulling out slow — then sliding back in deeper. slower. crueler. “don’t rush. i want you to feel all of it.”

he started up a rhythm that made your whole body sing — not fast, but deliberate, dragging each thrust out so you felt every inch of him. your walls fluttered around him with each slow roll of his hips, and he felt it,too.

“you’re clenchin’ so hard, pet,” he groaned. “tryin’ to milk me already? greedy little thing.”

your legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, holding him closer. he kissed you, slow and filthy, all tongue and teeth and whispered groans between your lips.

“you’re mine, yeah?” he asked, voice hoarse as he picked up the pace just a little.

“yeah,” you gasped. “yours.”

“say it again.”

“yours, patrick. i’m yours.”

he swore again — under his breath this time — and sat back, pulling you up into his lap so you were straddling him, bodies flush.

“look at you,” he said, hands sliding down to your hips to guide you. “riding me like a good girl. fuckin’ gorgeous.”

you moved like he told you to, back arching, head tipping back as pleasure rippled through you in slow, tightening waves.

he kept his hands on you, steady and grounding, even as his mouth pressed against your chest — licking, kissing, biting softly.

“that’s it, love. keep goin’. makin’ a fuckin’ mess of me.”

the first orgasm hit fast — sharp and hot — leaving you gasping into his neck. he slowed for a second, arms tightening around you, murmuring, “that’s it. that’s my girl. so good for me.”

but then?

he didn’t stop.

he wouldn’t stop.

kept rolling his hips up into you, deeper now, hands roaming every inch of your soft skin like he couldn’t get enough.

“too much,” you whispered, trembling.

“i know, pet,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder. “but you can give me one more, can’t you? just one more for me. you’re so close, i can feel it.”

and you were. god, you were close again already — too sensitive, too full, too in love with the way he looked at you like you were sacred.

he thumbed your clit in slow, teasing circles, and your whole body tightened in his lap.

“cum for me again,” he breathed, low and desperate now. “c’mon, show me what that pretty cunt was made for.”

and when you did?

he followed with a groan right in your ear, hips stuttering as he spilled into you, still whispering your name like a prayer.

afterward, he tucked you into his chest, kissing your forehead like he hadn’t just ruined you, like he hadn’t just made you come twice in his jersey with that filthy accent still ringing in your ears.

“you alright, love?”

“barely,” you mumbled.

he laughed softly. “good. wouldn’t want you forgettin’ who you belong to.”

[slt4kavanagh]

spicy hcs for patrick feely? 🤭🤭

spicy headcanons

pairing: patrick feely x fem!reader

tw: suggestive/sexual content && thoughts

a/n: sorry about the long wait, gonna post some relationship headcanons as well to make up for it, dw

masterlist !

ᯓ★ he’s got that smug, cocky charm, but in private? he worships the ground you walk on.

he talks a big game, but once you’re alone, it’s all filthy praise and deep moans. “look at yeh, baby. takin’ me so well. knew you were made for it.”

ᯓ★ neck kissing? obsession. his mouth finds that one spot just below your ear that makes you melt, and he lives there. leaves marks on purpose. you’ll show up to school in a scarf and he’ll smirk like the devil.

ᯓ★ he’s a teasing menace. hand on your thigh during class. whispering things in your ear like, “if you keep squirming like that, i’ll bend you over this desk.”- and he means it.

ᯓ★ he’s got a thing for seeing you in his jersey. especially when that’s all you’re wearing. he’ll lean in, grab your hips, and say, “jesus christ, girl… yeh tryin’ to kill me?”

ᯓ★ he’s rough in the way you like- but always attentive. one hand gripping your hair, the other pressed into the small of your back to hold you still while he mutters, “you’re mine, d’ye hear me? no one else gets to see you like this.”

ᯓ★ praise kink meets possessiveness. he’ll go from “good girl, takin’ me so well” to “say it. say who you belong to.” — and you do, every time.

ᯓ★ aftercare king, but he pretends he’s not. pulls you into his chest, strokes your back, murmurs, “was that too much? d’you need water, love?” but if you tease him about it, he’ll scoff like he didn’t just make you a post-sex cuppa.

ᯓ★ jealous feely is intense. some lad even looks at you sideways and he’ll pull you onto his lap in front of everyone. “nah, don’t mind him, pet. she’s taken. happily.”

ᯓ★ he loves when you ride him. leans back with his hands behind his head like he’s at the cinema, all smug and lazy while you’re a mess on top of him. “go on then. show me what yeh can do.”

ᯓ★ his dirty talk is unreal because that dublin accent? whew. filthy little murmurs like “so tight for me, love… fuck, you’re squeezin’ me just right,” will have you ruined.

[slt4kavanagh]

Hii! Could you write a story about Jhonny Kavanagh and reader who is kinda like Aoife in body type ( double DD's, big hips and ass, a bit of a tummy) and people in school say that she is too fat to be dating Jhonny

Thanks in advance I love your writing!!!

mad about you

pairing: johnny kavanagh x fem!reader

tw: mentions of body insecurity

a/n: so sorry it’s been taking me a while to get back to requests, i just went back to school

masterlist !

you weren’t daft.

you knew the way people looked when they saw you walking down the corridor beside johnny fuckin’ kavanagh.

he’d have his arm slung low around your waist, that cocky grin on his face like he owned the place — and you too, apparently. and the stares would start. the whispers. sometimes not even whispered.

“he must be jokin’.”

“with her? seriously?”

“mad how far confidence’ll get a girl, huh?”

you tried to let it roll off your back. but it got heavy sometimes — the way they said it like he was settling, like your thighs or chest or hips were some kind of tax he was paying to not be alone.

johnny didn’t see it that way. not once. not ever.

he was waiting at your locker now, bag slung over one shoulder, his curls a mess like he’d run a hand through them too many times. when he spotted you, his face lit up like you were the only thing in the world worth smiling at.

“’bout time,” he said, giving you a once-over that felt more like a compliment than any words ever had. “missed you.”

“i was only gone for two classes.”

he hummed. “longest two of my life.”

you were about to grin back- you always did, he made it hard not to- but then the laughter floated down the hall.

a group of girls. not subtle. glancing your way and then nudging each other, eyes flicking from you to johnny and back.

you stiffened.

johnny noticed.

“what is it?”

you shook your head, fidgeting with your sleeve. “nothin’. just… tired.”

he leaned closer. “you’re a shite liar, you know that?”

you didn’t answer. just shrugged and tried to grab your books.

johnny blocked your locker gently with one hand, the other resting warm on your hip.

“talk to me.”

you stared at the floor. “i just… sometimes i don’t get it, you know?”

his brows furrowed.

“why you’d pick me. when everyone’s got their opinion about what i look like. when they stare like i’m a fuckin’ experiment.”

his jaw clenched. hard. and he stepped in even closer, voice dropping to something low and firm and very dublin.

“do you think you’re not enough for me?”

you blinked. “that’s not-”

“because if you do, i’ve clearly not been doing my job right.”

your chest tightened. “johnny…”

he shook his head. “nah. listen. i don’t care what the rest of them think they see when they look at you. because what i see? is someone who makes me laugh like an eejit. someone who’s gorgeous without even trying. someone who looks at me like i’m more than just some gobshite with a smart mouth.”

your eyes watered.

“i chose you,” he said, voice rough now. “and i’ll keep choosing you. every day. i don’t want anyone else. and i sure as hell don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve got to be anything different than exactly how you are right now.”

you blinked at him. “you’re unreal.”

he grinned, fingers grazing your cheek. “nah, just mad about you.”

and right there- with your back to the lockers, his forehead resting gently against yours, his thumb stroking the side of your jaw- you felt it.

the truth of it.

you weren’t too much.

you weren’t not enough.

you were his. and he was yours.

and that was more than enough.

[slt4kavanagh]

draco malfoy

ᯓ★ draco malfoy, slytherin’s royalty, is all frosty sneers and whispered jabs—the kind of boy who wields a smirk like a sharpened blade. he glides through hogwarts corridors, wand tucked like a secret, eyes the colour of storm clouds watching everything, revealing nothing. born into the malfoy legacy, he wears pure‑blood pride like a tailored suit, every movement precise, every word measured. but beneath the polished polish lies a tremor of doubt—family loyalty twisted into fear, ambition clashing with conscience. he’s danger in designer robes, maddeningly aloof, irresistibly poised, the one everyone envies and everyone suspects. he commands attention without a boast, lets privilege speak for him, and loves like he duels—quietly, fiercely, with stakes too high to ever admit.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ the secrets he keeps

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

[slt4kavanagh]

patrick feely

ᯓ★ tommen’s quiet storm, patrick feely, is all smirks and slow burns— the kind of boy who says more with a glance than most do with a speech. he keeps to the shadows, guitar in hand, eyes that see too much and lips that know exactly what to do with silence. he’s heartbreak in a hoodie, maddeningly attractive, effortlessly cool, the one they all want but none can figure out.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ spicy headcanons .

ᯓ★ his jersey .

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ spicy headcanons .

ᯓ★ his jersey .

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

[slt4kavanagh]

hughie biggs

ᯓ★ tommen’s soft chaos, hughie biggs, is all charm and heart— light blond hair, warm brown eyes, beautiful in that easy, boy-next-door way. he’s the kind of guy who’ll walk you home, carry your bags, and still text to make sure you got in safe. fiercely protective of his baby sister claire, he’s all big brother instincts and quiet strength. he gives the best girl advice, usually mid-party or on the back steps with a drink in hand. he’s the first to suggest a night out, the one who’ll throw a party just because the house is empty and his mates need a laugh. kind to his core, loyal without needing to say it, hughie’s the calm in the chaos, the softness that catches you off guard.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ the things we can’t have

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

[slt4kavanagh]

relationship headcanons

pairing! joey lynch x fem!reader

tw: none !

masterlist !

ᯓ★ he’s the kind of love that sneaks up on you—quiet but all-consuming. doesn’t fall easy, but once he does, it’s fierce, protective, and all-in.

ᯓ★ his love is nurturing in the most unexpected ways—making you tea without asking, rubbing your back in silence, handing you a hoodie without a word when you’re cold.

ᯓ★ sarcastic as hell. constantly teasing you, calling you “smartarse” or “woman” with a smug little smirk, especially when you give it back.

ᯓ★ always touching you. hand on your thigh, arm around your waist, pinkies linked. even when he’s distracted, he keeps that connection.

ᯓ★ sleeps shirtless. his tattoos and scars out on display. he never flinches when you touch them—just closes his eyes and lets you trace the stories etched into his skin.

ᯓ★ fiercely protective. someone upsets you? he’s immediately like, “names. now.” calm on the outside, but ready to ruin someone.

ᯓ★ loves when you play with his hair. will melt into your lap without a word after a long day and let you run your fingers through it until he falls asleep.

ᯓ★ he’ll cook for you when he can—toasties, soup, the odd fry-up. always grumbles about it but watches you eat with a quiet kind of pride.

ᯓ★ brutally honest. if you’re overthinking or spiralling, he’ll just look at you and go, “babe. stop. come here,” before pulling you into his arms and holding you until you settle.

ᯓ★ gets quietly jealous. won’t make a scene, just pulls you closer, throws an arm over your shoulder, leans in and says something low like, “you’re mine, yeah?”

ᯓ★ he doesn’t like big gestures, but he remembers the little things—how you take your tea, the song you hum when you’re anxious, the exact way you like to be held.

ᯓ★ doesn’t say “i love you” often, but when he does, it’s with full eye contact, voice low and rough, like the words taste too big in his mouth but he means every one.

ᯓ★ if he ever sees you cry, his whole world stops. wipes your tears with the back of his hand and says, “who do i have to hurt?” half-serious, half-breaking.

ᯓ★ absolutely the type to give you his hoodie and then complain you never give it back, even though he loves that it smells like you now.

ᯓ★ when he misses you, he’ll send one-word texts like “home?” or “you?”, because he’s not good at saying it—but he feels it more than anyone ever could.

[slt4kavanagh]

spicy headcanons

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

tw: suggestive/sexual content && thoughts

masterlist !

ᯓ★ he fucks like he’s got something to prove—like every time might be the last, and he wants you to remember.

ᯓ★ he’s rough without being careless. teeth on your throat, hand gripping your hip, voice low and filthy in your ear.

ᯓ★ “look at me when you come.” he says it like a command, not a request. and you listen.

ᯓ★ leaves marks on purpose. your neck, thighs, chest—he likes when people see them and know.

ᯓ★ insanely vocal. low groans, soft curses, that deep irish rasp whispering “fuck, that’s it, take it all, good girl.”

ᯓ★ he’s obsessed with your reactions. watches your face when he slides in, like it’s the only thing that matters.

ᯓ★ forearms either side of your head, caging you in while he rocks into you slow and deep, just to hear you beg.

ᯓ★ hates rushing. unless it’s against a wall, clothes half-off, hands everywhere, and you’re clawing at him like you’ll die if he stops.

ᯓ★ has a thing for your thighs. loves them wrapped around his waist, slung over his shoulders, shaking from overstimulation.

ᯓ★ praise kink, for sure. calls you “my girl,” “good girl,” “pretty baby,” while completely ruining you.

ᯓ★ he’ll go down on you for ages. gets off on the way you pull his hair and try to push him away when it gets too much.

ᯓ★ loves when you scratch his back. leaves with nail marks and a cocky smirk like yeah, that’s mine.

ᯓ★ secretly gets off on a bit of power play. pinning your wrists, keeping you spread, making you ask for it.

ᯓ★ aftercare king. wipes you down, makes sure you drink water, pulls you onto his chest and strokes your back while your breathing evens out.

ᯓ★ mutters “jesus christ” when you ride him—head tilted back, hands on your hips, completely at your mercy but loving every second.

ᯓ★ isn’t afraid to talk you through it—“you’re doing so good for me, yeah? taking me so fuckin’ well, love.”

ᯓ★ sex with joey isn’t just physical. it’s intense, emotional, raw. he touches you like you’re something he never thought he’d get to have—and he’s never letting go.

[slt4kavanagh]

joey lynch .

ᯓ★ cork’s broken soul, joey lynch, is all steel and silence— sharp jaw, sharper eyes, the kind of boy who’s learned to fight for everything he’s never been given. he moves like he’s bracing for impact, heart wrapped in barbed wire, too proud to ask for help but always the first to offer it. there’s a depth to him, dark and heavy, but it’s not all pain—there’s love there too, buried deep, fierce and unrelenting. he’s the protector, the provider, the boy who carries the world on his back and never complains. he loves like it’s war, with everything he has, and doesn’t believe he deserves a single thing in return.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ relationship headcannons .

ᯓ★ spicy headcannons .

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ relationship headcannons .

ᯓ★ spicy headcannons .

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

[slt4kavanagh]

gerard gibson .

ᯓ★ tommen’s golden retriever, gerard gibson, is all charm and chaos— grin like sunshine, heart too big for his own good, the kind of boy who makes everyone feel like they matter. he laughs too loud, flirts too much, and hides everything real behind dirty jokes and dimples. but there’s a steadiness in him, a quiet kind of loyalty that doesn’t waver, even when everything else does. he’s the first to throw a punch for his friends, the last to admit he’s hurting. he gives his love recklessly, entirely, like it’s the only thing he’s ever been sure of—never asking for anything in return.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ nfsw alphabet . (request)

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ nfsw alphabet . (request)

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ coming soon !

[slt4kavanagh]

your blog is so cute im crying omg

please please please nsfw alphabet for gerard from bot? tysm!! xoxo

nsfw alphabet

pairing: gerard gibson x fem!reader

tw: suggestive/sexual content && thoughts

a/n: thank you, please enjoy !

masterlist !

ᯓ★ aftercare

he’s clingy as hell after. doesn’t pull out right away, just stays buried in you, arms locked around your waist like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. kisses your shoulders, your back, your neck. murmurs sleepy things like “still with me, love?” makes you tea even if you’re half-asleep. brushes your hair out of your face and tells you you’re perfect.

ᯓ★ body part

your mouth, hands down. obsessed. the way you pout when you’re annoyed, the way your lips wrap around his fingers, his cock. swears he could come just from watching you suck him off, all pretty and messy. on him? probably his hips or his thighs — loves when you ride him and grip them like you need to hold on for dear life.

ᯓ★ cum

it’s a whole thing with him. doesn’t just cum, ruins. loves to fill you up, watch it drip down your thighs, smear it across your skin. gets off on the mess. sometimes finishes on your stomach just so he can rub it in and kiss you after like it’s nothing.

ᯓ★ dirty secret

once got hard during mass and ducked into the backroom to jerk off thinking about you in your school uniform. also, he keeps one of your old bras stuffed under his mattress. he says it’s for nostalgia but he’s used it more than once when you weren’t around.

ᯓ★ experience

too much. too young. he was the guy everyone warned you about — the one who’d fuck you in the back of a car and never call again. except he never expected to fall. no one before you ever made him nervous. no one made him want to slow down.

ᯓ★ favourite position

you on top, always. loves watching you fall apart above him, all flushed and grinding down, head tipped back. loves the control you have, and the way you beg when he grabs your hips and starts thrusting up. also has a thing for fucking you from behind with your face pressed into the pillows — all that whimpering and muffled sound drives him feral.

ᯓ★ goofy

laughs when your knees crack or the sheets tangle or he nearly falls off the bed trying to take his jeans off. “not very smooth, am i?” kisses your stomach and calls you his little disaster. keeps it light even when it’s filthy. he makes you feel safe enough to laugh with your legs spread.

ᯓ★ hair

he keeps it tidy, trimmed low but not bare. says shaving it all off feels weird. likes the softness, the warmth. doesn’t expect you to be perfectly smooth either — loves you however you come. calls it “just a bit of grown-up mess, love” and kisses down anyway.

ᯓ★ intimacy

he’s the guy who holds your hand while he’s inside you. who kisses your nose and tells you you’re his best friend. who fucks you slow just to see your eyes roll back. who gets all soft after and can’t stop touching you, even if it’s just your ankle against his. you changed him and he doesn’t know how to tell you, so he shows you instead.

ᯓ★ jerking off

does it often, especially when you’re not around. uses the thought of you — specifically you bent over his bed, skirt pushed up, begging. sometimes uses your knickers if he’s feeling pathetic. cums all over them and hides them back in your drawer. you always know.

ᯓ★ kink

praise, ownership, begging, spit, a lil bit of pain. he likes being called good boy, especially when he’s buried in you and doing everything to make you come. loves when you cry on his cock — it sends him. also: the piercing. he loves how you gasp when it hits just right, how it makes you squirm. he’s got a thing for being used. let’s you ride him til he’s whining.

ᯓ★ location

his car. always his car. backseat windows fogged up, his jersey on the floor, your head hitting the window. says shit like “we’ll just be quick” and then fucks you slow just to watch you come apart where anyone could walk past.

ᯓ★ motivation

your sounds. the way you say his name. the way your eyes roll back when he hits that spot. he doesn’t get off unless you do. he needs to see you wrecked — it’s what fuels him. it’s never about just the orgasm, it’s about watching you need him.

ᯓ★ no

he won’t degrade you. not even in a sexy way. after what happened in his childhood he wouldn’t even be able to bring himself to say mean things when you’re trusting him like that. also won’t fuck around with other people anymore — not even a joke. you’re his now, and that means everything.

ᯓ★ oral

he lives there. wakes you up between your thighs. “just needed a taste, pet.” takes his time, fingers you open while his tongue works you over like he’s starved. hums when you tug his hair. doesn’t stop when you cum — keeps going until you’re begging.

ᯓ★ pace

varies. lazy and deep when you’re both wrecked, frantic and punishing when he’s jealous. mostly? just steady, perfect rhythm, driving into you again and again like he knows how you like it. never loses control unless you ask for it.

ᯓ★ quickie

behind the school, in a pub bathroom, in the hallway at a house party. hand over your mouth, his jeans barely pulled down. “quiet now, pet. just like that. be good f’me.” he cums fast but makes it count.

ᯓ★ risk

massive risk-taker. thinks getting caught makes it hotter. tries it everywhere — the rugby locker room, the back stairwell, once at a wedding reception. always has some smug line like, “bet you’ll be thinkin’ about this during dinner, yeah?”

ᯓ★ stamina

endless. plays rugby. walks miles to see you. can go for hours if you let him. gets a little shaky if you edge him too long, but that just makes him meaner. he’ll hold you open and keep going until you’re crying for him to stop.

ᯓ★ toys

doesn’t use them much but wouldn’t say no. likes the idea of a vibrator while he’s fucking you. loves the way you squirm when he adds something extra. wants to tie your wrists and use his mouth ‘til you break.

ᯓ★ unfair

won’t let you cum right away. teases you for ages, fingers deep but slow, mouth hovering where you want him. grins when you beg. “not yet, pet. want y’to work for it.” then goes absolutely feral when you do.

ᯓ★ volume

he tries to keep quiet, he really does. but when he’s close? moans like a pornstar. says your name over and over, groans in your ear, whimpers when you clench around him. once said “fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me” like it was romantic.

ᯓ★ wild card

he’s cried while fucking you. not loud, not dramatic — just overwhelmed. said “never felt this with anyone before” against your skin. you didn’t say anything, just held him tighter. he still thinks about that night.

ᯓ★ x-ray

he’s pierced and proud of it. barbell through the tip, silver, subtle, deadly. first time you saw it he said, “don’t worry, love — you’ll thank me later.” and you did. over and over. it hits places nothing else can.

ᯓ★ yearning

he’s needy. kisses you like he’s drowning. always wants to be near you, touching you, hearing your voice. gets pouty when he can’t see you. whines your name into your neck when he’s inside you. he’s not just in love — he’s aching for you, always.

ᯓ★ zzz

falls asleep wrapped around you, face buried in your neck, mumbling shit like “mine.” snores a little. doesn’t let you go. even if you try to move, he just groans and pulls you tighter. sleeps best with your heartbeat under his ear.

[slt4kavanagh]

mattheo riddle .

mattheo riddle is the brooding, enigmatic heartthrob of slytherin, the son of the dark lord, forever caught between the shadows of his father's legacy and his own desire to carve out a different path. with his striking looks and sharp wit, he draws people in, but there's a vulnerability beneath his tough exterior that only a few get to see. he's the type to lean against a wall, smirking as he watches the world go by, but when it comes to those he cares about, he’s fiercely loyal and protective. whether he's teasing you with a playful grin or sharing whispered secrets in the dark, there's an undeniable chemistry that makes every moment with him electric. in a world filled with expectations, mattheo is just trying to find his place, and maybe, just maybe, he’s hoping you’ll be a part of that journey.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ nsfw alphabet .

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ nsfw alphabet .

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ too late to love you .

pt.1 pt.2

[slt4kavanagh]

nsfw alphabet

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

tw: suggestive/sexual content && thoughts.

masterlist !

ᯓ★ aftercare

he’s surprisingly gentle after a heated moment. he’ll pull you close, brushing your hair back and making sure you’re okay. maybe he’ll bring you a glass of water and press soft kisses to your forehead, reminding you that he’s always there.

ᯓ★ body part

his favorite is your ass or back. he loves the way it arches when he’s behind you, fingers tracing along your spine, igniting every nerve.

ᯓ★ cum

he’s a bit of a mess when he comes, loud and unrestrained. he loves finishing on your back, watching it glisten, and he can’t help but smirk at the sight. “look at you, all mine,” he’ll whisper, reveling in the moment.

ᯓ★ dirty secret

he has a bit of a praise kink. he loves telling you how good you make him feel, how perfect you are for him. “you’re doing so well, love,” he’ll murmur, his voice low and filled with desire.

ᯓ★ experience

he’s had a hundreds of flings, but nothing ever felt real until you. with you, he’s willing to explore and be vulnerable, and it terrifies him how much he wants this to mean something.

ᯓ★ favorite position

he loves when you’re on all fours, his hands gripping your hips as he enters you slowly. the angle allows him to go deep, and he can’t help but lean over, whispering sweet nothings while he moves, making you feel every inch of him.

ᯓ★ goofy

he’s got a playful side that comes out in bed. he’ll tease you with cheeky remarks, making you laugh even when things get heated. he loves seeing you smile, and it makes the moments even more intense.

ᯓ★ hair

he keeps it tousled but stylish. he loves running his fingers through your hair, especially when he’s guiding you closer or pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

ᯓ★ intimacy

he’s a softie at heart. when it’s just the two of you, making love he’ll whisper sweet nothings, letting you know how much you mean to him. “you’re everything to me,” he’ll say, his voice barely above a whisper. but if he’s angry or stressed, he’ll be the most degrading person you’ve ever met.

ᯓ★ jerking off

he definitely does. late at night, he thinks about you, your body, and the way you feel. he’ll imagine your moans and how you look when you’re lost in pleasure, and it drives him wild.

ᯓ★ kink

he’s into a bit of light bondage. he loves the idea of tying you up, teasing you until you’re begging for release. it’s all about trust and pleasure for him, and he wants to explore that with you.

ᯓ★ location

he’s adventurous. whether it’s a hidden corner of the castle or the back of a broom closet, he loves the thrill of being caught. but if it’s his bed? that’s where the real magic happens.

ᯓ★ motivation

the way you look at him. when you bite your lip or give him that teasing smile, it drives him wild. he loves seeing you want him, and it makes him crave you even more.

ᯓ★ no

he respects your boundaries. he’ll never push you to do something you’re not comfortable with. playful teasing? absolutely. anything that makes you feel small? never.

ᯓ★ oral

he’s a master at giving. he loves the way you taste and the sounds you make, and he’ll take his time, making sure you’re completely lost in pleasure. when he receives, he loves watching you take him, whispering encouragements.

ᯓ★ pace

he knows how to switch it up. fast and desperate when he’s needy, slow and sensual when he wants to savor every moment. he’ll keep you guessing, always wanting to give you what you need.

ᯓ★ quickie

he’s all in for a spontaneous moment. if you tease him in public, he’ll pull you into a secluded spot and make it quick, dirty, and unforgettable. “just a taste of what’s to come,” he’ll smirk.

ᯓ★ risk

he loves a little danger. whether it’s sneaking around hogwarts or getting caught in a compromising position, the thrill of it all excites him. but he’s always careful, making sure you’re both safe.

ᯓ★ stamina

he has an impressive endurance, able to keep going for hours when the mood strikes. he loves the way you respond to him, and he’ll push both of you to new heights, savoring every moment and ensuring that neither of you want the night to end.

ᯓ★ toys

he’s not opposed to using toys, especially if it means making you feel good. he loves watching you squirm as he teases you with a vibrator, pushing you to the edge before bringing you back down.

ᯓ★ understanding

he’s incredibly attuned to your needs. he knows when to push and when to pull back, always making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying every moment. your pleasure is his priority.

ᯓ★ volume

he’s not overly loud, but when he groans or whispers your name, it sends shivers down your spine. his voice is low and raspy, filled with desire, making every word feel intimate.

ᯓ★ wild card

he’s unpredictable in the best way. one moment he’s sweet and gentle, the next he’s taking control, surprising you with his intensity. it keeps you on your toes and makes every encounter exciting.

ᯓ★ x-rated

he’s not shy about his desires. he’ll openly talk about what he wants to do to you, and it only adds to the heat of the moment. his words are as intoxicating as his touch.

ᯓ★ yearning

he craves you deeply, always wanting to be close and connected. the way you respond to him only fuels his desire, making him want you even more.

ᯓ★ zzz

after a long night of passion, he loves to pull you close and drift off to sleep, feeling content and satisfied. he’ll wrap his arms around you, ensuring you feel safe and cherished as you both rest.

[slt4kavanagh]

nsfw alphabet

pairing: johnny kavanagh x fem!reader

tw! suggestive/sexual content && thoughts .

masterlist !

ᯓ★ aftercare

he’s all warm hands and soft whispers. wipes you down, kisses your hair, pulls you against his chest like you might disappear if he lets go. “you alright, baby?”—he won’t sleep till you say yes.

ᯓ★ body part

he’s obsessed with your thighs. grips them, spreads them, rests his head there like it’s home. but your neck? it’s game over. he bites it like he can’t help himself.

ᯓ★ cum

he likes cumming inside, if you let him. something about knowing he’s in you drives him wild. but he’s also down to finish on your stomach, your chest—anywhere he can see it.

ᯓ★ dirty secret

he’s into control. not loud, not aggressive—just quiet, firm dominance. holding your wrists, whispering “be good for me” while he fucks you slow and deep.

ᯓ★ experience

he’s had a few partners, but it’s never been like this. you make him feel things he’s never felt. and when he’s with you, it’s not just sex—it’s everything.

ᯓ★ favourite position

your legs over his shoulders in missionary. lets him get deep, lets him look in your eyes. but if he’s feeling soft? spooning. slow strokes, hand on your stomach, kisses on your shoulder.

ᯓ★ goofy

not during—he’s serious, focused, intense. but after? you’ll get the softest smirk, a teasing little “tired already?” and a lazy hand tracing shapes on your skin.

ᯓ★ hair

he keeps it trimmed. natural, nothing fancy. never fully shaves — says it feels too weird, too bare. just neat enough not to be a mess. clean, soft, smells like his body wash. it’s low effort but still thoughtful, like everything he does when he really cares.

ᯓ★ intimacy

johnny doesn’t say much, but when he touches you, it’s all there. slow kisses, forehead pressed to yours, that look like he’s falling for you a little more every time.

ᯓ★ jerking off

he does. usually thinking about you. he’s lowkey needy, hand wrapped around himself in the shower, whispering your name like a prayer.

ᯓ★ kink

praise. soft dominance. light choking if you’re into it. he wants to ruin you slowly while telling you how good you are, how tight, how sweet. “just like that, angel.”

ᯓ★ location

his room is his sanctuary, but if you’re in his car, in the locker room, wherever—if you want him? he’s got you.

ᯓ★ motivation

you wearing his hoodie. the way you say his name. a soft moan, a bitten lip, the look in your eyes when you want him. it doesn’t take much—he’s always ready for you.

ᯓ★ no

he has hard limits around disrespect or anything that would hurt you. if you’re not 100% into something, he won’t touch it. full consent, always.

ᯓ★ oral

giving? he lives for it. takes his time, holds your thighs down while you squirm. receiving? loves it when you get needy, hands in his hair, choking on him. he’ll try not to come too fast, but it’s hard.

ᯓ★ pace

slow, deep, intense. but if you beg? if you’re already shaking? he’ll snap his hips and fuck you hard, one hand gripping your throat while he groans in your ear.

ᯓ★ quickie

he prefers taking his time, but a rushed, desperate fuck before practice? or in the backseat of his car when you can’t wait? yeah, he’s in.

ᯓ★ risk

he’s careful, but the thrill of almost getting caught does something to him. he’ll press you up against a wall, hand over your mouth, whisper “stay quiet for me.”

ᯓ★ stamina

rugby captain. strong. driven. he can go for hours if you want. round two? round three? he’ll keep going until you’re wrecked and breathless under him.

ᯓ★ toys

not for him, but he’ll use them on you if you’re into it. loves watching you fall apart from a vibrator on your clit, eyes locked with his while he holds it there.

ᯓ★ unfair

he teases in that calm, dangerous way. slow fingers, warm breath on your neck, “you want it? then ask.” he’ll make you beg, but he never leaves you hanging.

ᯓ★ volume

low groans, heavy breathing, your name falling from his lips like he’s not even aware he’s saying it. not loud, but every sound he makes is filthy.

ᯓ★ wild card

he fantasises about taking you in the locker room showers after a match, sweat still on his skin, adrenaline running high, fucking you hard while trying not to get caught.

ᯓ★ x-ray

he’s big. thick, long, but not in a scary way—he knows how to use it, knows how to stretch you slowly, kiss you through every inch.

ᯓ★ yearning

he aches for you. all the time. late nights, long days, every second he’s not with you. and when he’s finally got you beneath him? he fucks like he missed you for a lifetime.

ᯓ★ zzz

he sleeps best with you in his arms. pulls you in, face buried in your neck, one hand still holding your thigh like he’s scared you’ll slip away.

[slt4kavanagh]

johnny kavanagh .

ᯓ★ tommen’s golden boy, johnny kavanagh, is all strength and silence— rugby captain, local legend, the kind of guy everyone looks up to but no one really knows. he walks like he’s carrying something heavy, like the weight of his world never lets up. he’s loyal to a fault, bleeding for the people he loves without ever letting it show. there’s softness buried deep beneath the bruises and the bravado, glimpsed only in stolen moments and quiet looks. he loves in silence, protects like it’s all he knows, and never once believes he’s worthy of the gentleness he gives so easily.

new ! ↯

ᯓ★ nfsw alphabet .

ᯓ★ mad about you .

oneshots ! ↯

ᯓ★ nfsw alphabet .

ᯓ★ little bit tipsy .

ᯓ★ rain check .

ᯓ★ bus ride .

ᯓ★ right hook, wrong guy .

ᯓ★ lab partners .

ᯓ★ mad about you .

series ! ↯

ᯓ★ lacy .

pt.1 | pt.2

[slt4kavanagh]

boys of tommen !

this series does not get the recognition it deserves on tumblr/wattpad so this is my way of giving up it the hype it needs

ᯓ★ johnny kavanagh

ᯓ★ hughie biggs

ᯓ★ patrick feely

ᯓ★ gerard gibson

ᯓ★ joey lynch