content: 18+ nsfw, porn without plot, fem dom!reader, sub!sokka, toys, strap usage, handjob, pegging.

summary: oh COME ON we all want to fuck sokka. based on this post. wc: 2.2k

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

it’d already been well over a month since you and sokka last had sex.

maybe it was because of how busy work kept you, or the constant stress in your office.. whatever the cause, you simply couldn’t feel horny around your boyfriend anymore.

you loved him, just as much as he did if not more, but the sexual spark just seemed to dwindle.

at first, this did cause minor arguments that you managed to talk out of, convincing each other that you were still in love and that this was just a phase to push through.

dry spells were very common in long relationships, after all. and you’d been dating for over two years and counting.

sokka’s attempts at foreplay were numerous; it’d either be him giving you a full body massage after a hard day at work, and while his firm hands kneading your hips used to have you arching up and ending up creampied on the sofa, the most he could pull out of you now were pleased hums and awkward “thank you”s.

or him brushing your inner thigh while you watched a movie together, growing threateningly close to your stubborn cunt. that very touch used to have you pooling in anticipation as you lowered yourself down on his nimble fingers, but now you’d just give him a nervous smile and hold his hand, focusing your attention back on the movie.

while he did make constant efforts to arouse you, the one thing he’d never do is pressure you in any sort of way or push the matter if he sensed any sort of hesitation. he grew better at getting the hints, which saved you endless awkward conversations.

you were starting to feel bad. despite how supportive he was being through this, you knew he missed sex. hell, so did you. you did miss sex with him, if only you could get turned on.

you’d sometimes hear his muffled moans from the bathroom late at night when he’d try to quietly jerk himself off, believing you were asleep. he sounded so pathetic at times, it made you feel a little guilty and — while you weren’t sure then — it did occasionally make your stomach flip.

it didn’t make sense at all though, because even though his distant noises often riled you up, the actual thought of him fucking you seemed to smother that heat right out.

it was not until today that you finally managed to solve the great mystery behind that.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

you shrug off your coat at the entrance with a tired sigh, slipping out of your work heels to let your poor feet breathe after such a long day.

you toss the keys on the counter and walk further into the house, when the sound of whirring and crackling reaches your ears. you smile to yourself as you head down to the basement that sokka used as his personal workshop, curious about what new project he got started on.

“honey?” you call out, descending the stairs. “i’m home. whatcha doing?”

your heart swells in your chest when he comes into view, whipping his head back to look up at you with those wide puppy eyes and that toothy grin.

he meets you at the bottom of the stairs, hoisting you up in his arms and pressing a dramatically long kiss to your cheek, detaching from you with a big wet mwah! “missed ya, pretty girl. i’m making a surprise for you, actually! it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever seen.”

“oh?” you return his cheeky smile, tilting your head. “really? aww, are you finally building me that extra big closet i always asked you for?”

“oh..” he looks away for a second before sighing. “okay, maybe the second best thing you’ve ever seen.”

you chuckle and so does he, exchanging a soft kiss before he continues. “you’ll love it babe. i’ve put my all into it.”

his eager gaze has you melting, your arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders. you give him another peck, “you can’t just say that and leave me hanging. what’s the surprise?”

sokka tuts, shaking his head solemnly. “if i tell you, what kind of surprise is that?”

“clearly not the best one since it’s not the extra big closet.”

he whines at your teasing giggle, “babe!”

“alright alright,” you pat his shoulders for him to set you down. when he does, you give his head a soft pat, “i’ll be good and wait.”

he hums, pensively staring at you for a minute. “actually, i should show you. maybe you’ll have suggestions on how to make the gift better.”

you snicker, “what happened to keeping it a surprise?”

“oh shush, just come look.”

you don’t know what you expected, but it was certainly not an array of sex props and toys all laid out on his table.

“nice, huh?” he grins, picking up a pair of handcuffs he fashioned himself. he wraps an arm around you from behind, pressing a warm kiss to your nape as he twirls the cuffs around his finger. “thought spicing things up would help.. if you want to, of course.”

you still can’t rip your eyes off the wide variety of things he crafted, each more intricate than the last; you’d think he owned a sex shop.

he lets go of you to stand in front of you, his fingers skimming over ropes, ribbons, and rather intricate dildos. what looked like a prototype of an unfinished vibrator was set aside for further improvement.

“i just think it’d be really hot,” he continues feeling up each prop, a proud and heated smirk tugging at his lips. “y’know.. thought i could maybe tie you up.”

he picks up a coarse looking piece of rope, wrapping it experimentally around his wrists. “like this. this material’s special, it’s almost impossible to untangle from unless the other person does so. don’t you think that’s kind of.. y’know, sexy?” he gives it some tugs, trying to free himself and a low whimper escapes him, “see? i can’t undo it by myself. will you help me?”

…

“.. babe?” he asks, concerned at your prolonged silence. “are you good?”

you don’t realize how you’ve been gawking at your boyfriend for minutes now, your mouth agape and a foreign heat that you haven’t felt in so long settling in your lower abdomen.

you swallow thickly, drinking in his perplexed frown and the sight of his bound wrists and his helpless tugging as he waited for you to untie him.

oh. my. god.

your eyes blow wide open when the realization clicks, a soft gasp slipping out of your lips. he blinks, lost and surprised, “babe?”

“you’re right, sokka.” you tug at the rope tying his hands together, your voice breathier. “it’s working. this is hot.”

“oh, yay!” he practically jumps, smiling from ear to ear. “wow— i’m so glad to hear that. i knew this would work.” he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, hot and sloppy unlike the meek and soft ones you’d been living off this month. he’s breathless against your mouth, visibly horny. “now, untie the rope so we can take this to bed. i’ll tie you up real nice, then i’ll—”

“i don’t think so,” you cut him off, growing hotter at the way his brows knit in confusion. you exhale, cupping his face to kiss him again, “i think i’d like you tied up.”

to say he was startled was an understatement.

the boy almost leapt off the ground as he stepped away from you in bewilderment, “you— what? huh!? you.. t-tie me up??”

you nod, closing in on him to kiss him again. “sokka, you have no idea how wet i am just thinking about it,” you whisper sultrily against his mouth, and you hear his breath hitch at the confession, “i wanna use all of these on you, baby.” you nip at his bottom lip, your hand trailing down his body to palm his growing bulge that you’ve neglected for the past month, to which he lets out the neediest whimper.

“b—but that doesn’t make any sense,” he stammers, flushed and torn between fluster and mild offense. “i mean, i’m the man!”

“so?” your fingers curl around his clothed cock through his sweats to drag a garbled choke out of him. “good thing you made all those dildos.”

“oh no no no,” he shakes his head, staring at you like you just suggested mass murder. “a—are you crazy!? you’re not putting stuff in me! i’m the one with a coc— eek!”

you give his already leaking tip a light flick, huffing out a laugh at his shriek. “you’re basically seeping through your pants, and you’re telling me this isn’t turning you on?”

“i—i’m…” the pathetic scrunch his pretty features twist into has your clit throbbing. “that’s not— it’s not fair! i just—..”

you smile at his silence, giving his bulge an appreciative pat as you undo the ropes. you glance at the toys on the table, then point at the one that picks your eye, “think you can fashion this one into a strap-on?”

“.. you’re not fair at all.” he grumbles under his breath, staring at his well crafted props in defeat. “this is not how i expected this to turn out. at all.”

“you’ll like it.”

he scoffs, almost pouty. “i doubt that.”

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big words for someone who was now crying a river into the pillow.

you used his very handcuffs to keep his wrists pinned behind his back, cooing at his useless squirming and his whining about how exposed he felt in this position.

well, if it was any consolation, you reassured him that his ass looked great. he didn’t seem to take that so well though.

“this is too embarrassing, i don’t w— ah!” his hips buck up into your hand, tightly wrapped around his weeping cock, stroking him fast enough to shut his brain off. you lean down to nip at his ear, your bare tits flush against his scarred back from the times he had you scratching angry red lines all over it, “easy, sokka. i know you can take me.”

ignoring his scandalized protests, you lean back to watch yourself glide the tip of the lubed up toy over his twitching hole, spreading him open with one hand on his plush ass. you let out a pleased sigh at his arch, “you ready?”

for your first time wearing a strap-on, it certainly brought out the beast in you.

his wrists got shades lighter by the lack of blood flow from his violent thrashing around the metal cuffs, his words slurred and choked out by loud sobs against the drool-soaked pillow, “oh— oh my.. oh— god! i’m— fuck!”

your pounding’s ruthless, fucking every single doubt out of that man and striking his g-spot so hard his knees start wobbling. the whole bed’s creaking and even his position is unstable, but that’s nothing a swift smack to his bottom can’t fix, hiccuping a startled sob as he adjusts himself for you.

at one point, he’s the one pushing himself back fully into your strap, mewling and crying at the delicious stretch that only serves him to make him clamp down tighter on you. thick spurts of cum stain your bedsheets, but you don’t give him a break, reaching out to wipe his overly sensitive tip and moaning at his sharp cry.

“p—please—” he begs for mercy at the feel of your hand roughly jerking him off again so soon after cumming, your strap still ramming deep into his tight walls. he looks back at you over his shoulder and you completely lose it, his cocky grin was long gone and was now replaced with the saddest frown you’d ever seen, all dazed and puffy-eyed and shamelessly drooling. “please, i’m gonna—”

“so fucking pretty.” you spit out, giving his sad cock another pump to watch his face contort in pained pleasure. you pull on his hair to force him to look at you, “keep your eyes on me.”

you feel him twitch around your hand at the command.

that gives you the leverage you need, and for all the times sokka bragged about his strong and athletic girlfriend, he had never regretted it this badly. your stamina was absolutely diabolical, and he lost count of how many orgasms you managed to drag out of him.

he never even knew this was physically possible. maybe the lack of sex made him this pent up.

he’s almost slipped out of consciousness when you finally decide to stop, the sheets completely ruined and irredeemable. you were quite proud of how much you managed to squeeze out of him. his poor balls must be shrivelled up by now.

“that..” he mumbles, his voice hoarse from crying and screaming your name, “.. was good. r-really good.”

“see?” you smile, pulling out of him and throwing the toy away. you take off the cuffs and untie his legs, scooping him into your arms as you cuddle him on the cleaner side of the bed, “you were so good for me, baby.”

he mumbles sleepily, resting his face on your chest, “that was.. wow.”

“i know.”

he shifts in your grasp, and his foot accidentally grazes a damp spot next to him, making him shudder and turn to look at his mess.

“that’s..” he eyes the wet stains incredulously, exhausted and just baffled. “well.. this is definitely not a dry spell anymore.”

you chuckle, pulling him back to you, “you don’t say.”

and since that day, pegging becomes a non-negotiable in sokka’s schedule.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

* my asshole hurts today so this also felt fitting to write

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Modern Aang misses his wife to the point where he disturbs her while shes working

Sorry for any grammatical errors

WC: 808

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You knew the kind of man you married before you even said yes. Aang loved the attention you gave him, in fact he craved it so much you wondered what he did during his own work duration. 

And today was no different

You were mid-scrolling through the email system of the tech company you were working for, squinting at a message about server maintenance when you felt a low buzz of your phone against the surface of the desk. 

You recognized the rhythm, it was the ringtone Aang had put for you, so you differentiate between his calls and other people's calls. You glanced and smiled at the caller id, Aang smiling with Appa, your german shepherd licking his face. 

You picked up, looking around the main office  through the glass walls, where you could see  your boss having a bad conversation with his investors and sighed as you heard the background noise of the slight breeze, which probably meant recess for him

“Aang…you know I’m at work…” You whisper

“I know…” His cheerful voice went through the speaker “But you wont believe the day I’m having…you know I'm teaching the kids how to write paragraphs right?” His voice bright and unbothered

“Yeah…?” You replied reducing your phone volume

“Well guess what”

“Aang you know you can just tell me right” You replied with an amusement lilt in your voice “I know but I want you to guess”

 You paused, tapping your chin “Someone threw up?”

“Wha- no no-” Aang said before laughing "One of my students told me the famous line!”

“Which is…?” “My dog ate my homework’….” He paused, “I mean can you believe it, we have a dog and I don’t think Appa has eaten any of our documents" “Well Appa is a good boy, maybe the dog is a puppy that doesn’t know the difference between homework and food yet” You said biting your lip to suppress a laugh “Are you seriously defending my student over me?” He mocked “Maybe” you teased spinning a pen between your fingers 

“Wow…so heartbroken” He let out a dramatic sigh “You on break?”

“No…why?”

“Oh I wanted to…have a ten minute video call…I miss your face” His voice softened “You saw my face before you left the house”

“It’s been 6 hours”

“So-” “So take like a mini break…please?”

“Give me an hour” “An hour? Why an hour?”

“I have a stack of visitor badges that needs to be organized and a system that needs to be updated…” “But…baby” His voice drops to a pleading tone “Appa misses you” “You’re at school” You snorted

“Well I’m Appa” He declared “And I miss my wife”

“If you’re Appa you should miss your owner” You shot back

“Wha-”

“Aang go back to class”

“Not until I see your face”

“You’re-”

Your protest was cut short as your screen lit up with an incoming video request from him. You sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it as you accepted. 

Aang’s face fills the screen, his grin triumphant “See I knew it would work”

“Ten minutes” you said, propping your phone against your monitor 

“More”

“Aang”

“Cant a husband miss his wife?”

“He can. but he’s at work”

“Actually I’m on lunch break”

“Wow, that makes it so much better”

“Thanks” he replied missing your sarcasm

You giggle, dropping your phone onto the desk with a soft clatter, fumbling through your purse for your airpod case. Son you popped them in, connecting  to your phone “If you want to talk to me, be prepared to talk while I work”

“Fine by me” Aang smiled as he placed his phone on his desk, while he leaned back in his chair so you could see his whole upper body “I could watch you work all day”

“You’re very annoying” You teased, sliding a badge into its designated slot, “Don’t you have papers to grade or something"

“Already graded…I’m a man of many talents”

“Is distracting your wife one of them?” You asked as you reached for another badge 

“That’s actually my primary talent, right up there with  making Appa do tricks”

You laughed loudly causing a few glances towards you. You apologized and looked at your phone. Your chaotic wonderful and attention starved  husband  smiling brightly “You wanted me to laugh didn't you?”

“Yeah”

You smile as you heard the distant ring of a bell which meant recess ending, Aang eyes flickered toward the door then back at you

“Five minutes, then you have to go be a teacher”

“Deal, now tell me about your day…and don’t leave out any boring details…I want everything”

You rolled your eyes, but you started talking, while your hands never stopped their work. 

This was just a normal day for you and Aang and you wouldn't trade it for anything

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warnings: possessive behavior, some of them are petty. some of them are immature. but hey, they're jealous, okay? avatar masterlist ⋆˙⟡

ladies first !

katara ~ a very jealous and possessive woman, but she does a great job at hiding it behind the surface. if she feels threatened in any way, she'll throw herself into the situation and make herself known. "hi! i'm her girlfriend!" she'd wedge herself between you and whoever she saw as the threat, grabbing the person's hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake, though behind her blue eyes she's wishing nothing but their death. "well, actually, soon-to-be wife, so~"

toph ~ she's a proud woman, and she's confident you wouldn't do a thing to threaten your relationship with her. it's not often she gets riled up, but boyyyy, if you make her jealous, she's going to make your day—and the person who tried to hit on you's—hell. she'd quickly earthbend a pebble right at the kid's face. and when you tell her to behave, she'd roll her eyes and say, "i am behaving. it's you who isn't."

andddd now for the men.

Words from our Hostess: Congratulations! You've been selected for our Host Club. After reading your application, we decided that your best pairing for you might not be only one, but two of our Hosts, Joseph Joestar and Caesar Zeppeli. We created a scenario of how dating them would go, we hope you enjoy it

jocks!caejose x whimsigoth!reader ╱ they love to see you getting ready for dates and annoy you

When they knock on your dorm, you are by far not ready to go out. Make up undone and outfit undecided, but you open the door anyway, finding your two tall and broad boyfriends leaning on the doorframe. 

“You’re early, idiots,” you say every time, at this point you know why they come so early every time. 

To annoy you. That’s it. 

Caesar just lays on your bed, taking your phone and scrolling through it because your algorithm is apparently better than his. But Joseph, fucking Joseph Joestar. He sits by you on the vanity as close as possible, asking the same questions every time. 

“What are you doing now?” he says, looking at your reflection in the mirror. 

“Applying my foundation,” you answer, dabbing the product on your skin like you always do. Joseph is already reaching his hand to the bottle, you slap it. “Don’t. It’s not your shade, remember?”

Caesar snorts in the background, remembering that time where Joseph insisted on you doing his make up and he ended up looking weirdly pretty. 

summary: you and your best friend find out that you've been dating the same person for the last month content warnings: inspired by raye's song of the same name. modern au and they're in florence bc is my fav city of italy, joseph is fucking dumb in this one, this was meant to be smut but i got lazy

Walking the streets of Florence at night with your english boyfriend having his huge arm around your waist is a dream come true. You just had dinner at a nice restaurant and now you were looking for a good place to dance and make out outdoors. 

“JoJo, baby, I love this song!” you said, walking towards a group of people dancing and holding drinks. You took his hand, dragging him with you. Your body pressed against his, his arms wrapping around your waist instinctively and yours going to tickle the back on his neck. 

He wasn’t the best dancer in the world, but feeling the warmth of his body against yours was enough to make you all giggly and happy. It’s been a while since you had a real boyfriend, your mind was always occupied by the stupid crush you had on your best friend, having Joseph completely gone for you was the best sensation ever. 

“D’you want something to drink, darling?” he asked after the song finished, his mouth close to your ear as he spoke. 

“Yes, please,” you nodded, your throat dry from the salty pasta and dancing. “Just vodka lemon for me, baby.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said before leaving, not forgetting to kiss your cheeks and give your ass a squeeze before heading into the bar. 

burlesque dancer!joseph joestar didn't expect to see his two best friends (who he has been crushing for over a year) at a random night in the place he worked at ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

cw: mdni, hurt/comfort, angst, vulnerability, joseph suffers a little here, suggestive, art by catneychu

Thursday nights are always boring in your apartment, Joseph’s out working and none of your other friends want to go out because “it’s a weekday” and “they have classes tomorrow”. So you and Caesar usually settle down for a calm night with a movie in the background while you kiss each other for hours. 

You’ve been keeping your little relationship (you’re not even dating, by the way, Caesar just has the most kissable lips ever and knows how to use them) a secret to Joseph because you know he would freak out and make a whole deal out of his two best friends making out every other night. 

Like right now, Caesar has you on his lap, hands kneading your ass while you devour his mouth just how he likes it. Tongues overlapping and swirling around each other. You love running your hand through his soft golden locks, making him giggle as you do it. 

“Mm, why don’t we go out for some drinks?” you mumble against his lips, breathing out. 

•characters: dennis whitaker x fem!reader

•summary: y/n and dennis are childhood best friends, they did every and anything together, glued to each other like leaves on a tree branch in the summer, so it was only right for them to make a pact with each other. if by the time they both were in their 20’s and still virgins, they’d lose it to each other

•tags: idiots in love, fluff, smut, p in v, oral(fem!receiving),spit kink, use of her/she/y/n, both dennis and y/n are awkward and nervous losers, over thinker y/n, jealous y/n, vet! reader, nosy coworkers(especially trinity), soft dennis, petnames(pretty girl, baby, good girl, good boy, beautiful girl” switch dennis and y/n, age gap(y/n is 25 y/o and dennis is 26 y/o), might be ooc! i didn’t proof read this so sorry for any typos !

•a/n: i genuinely love dennis, his little face is so cute. i wrote for him as an early birthday gift for myself since monday i’ll be having fun! pp

reblogs, likes and comments are really appreciated

y/n felt like a major loser, she thought by the time she reached adulthood that feeling would finally fade but oh boy was she brutally wrong.

by the time she turned 25, she only had been in 2 real relationships that ended horribly, barely knew how to properly kiss someone, and was still a virgin while everyone around her had sex like it was their hobby. maybe romantic love wasn’t for her, and she felt guilty even thinking of something so silly like that, she knew she couldn’t complain because her life was finally falling into place. she graduated from college with flying colors, she was living a life she never thought she’d live being free and experiencing new things in a big city instead of living in a small town like Broken Bow, and she was working at a veterinary clinic that was a few blocks from Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center where her roommate and best friend dennis whitaker worked.

dennis whitaker has been her best friend since they were both in middle school, becoming friends after a week of them walking in the same direction before and after school, later finding out they lived close by each other and the fact that they were both practically loners that didn’t really have any friends. by high school they were completely inseparable, even after he graduated before her because he was a year older than her they still found a way to hang out with each other until she graduated a little bit after him, by the time they both reached college nothing changed. except for one thing, after a drunken night…

⋆｡˚☤✧˖°.｡⋆

y/n’s second year in college:

“you know, i don’t think i’ll ever lose my virginity” y/n said, her limp body laying on dennis’s small, twin mattress while she stared at the swirling beige ceiling, whitaker hunched over his study table, a big bulky text book in his old study desk while the other held a beat up flask he stole from him older brothers back in high school “why do you say that? you’re dating that william dude, you guys haven’t gone to second base yet?” asked dennis, his downturned blue eyes staring at her, his cheeks flustered and red “ugh no. i don’t really feel comfortable with him to do something like that, every second with him feels like walking on egg shells and i rather not lose it to someone like him. i want my first time to be decent atleast” y/n said, her fingers mindlessly tugging on his navy blue bedsheets “you genuinely deserve better, i always tell you this. you’re first time should be amazing, it will be. but i agree, i hope my first time will be decent..” whitaker says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck

“dude…do you think we’ll be in our 50’s still being loser virgins with like 10 cats in our shared apartment” y/n gasped, abruptly jolting forward with wide eyes, dennis shared the same look of despair and horror “i’d seriously hire someone just to lose it, i’m not even joking” dennis says, his words a little slurred but serious, y/n laughed at the severity in his tone “i’d never let you do that…you know…we can just lose it to each other, BUT only if we’re really desperate, like if we’re in our mid 20’s and still virgins we could…just lose it to each other, since we’re already so close and comfortable together” y/n suggested drunkenly, biting her lip anxiously

truth be told, her suggestion wasn’t really a suggestion, it was more of a confession. y/n never told a single soul about her smallnot small crush she had on her best friend. this stupid crush started after he went to her prom together, spending the rest of the night just star gazing and talking to one another about their future together, it felt like they were the only people alive in large world, she felt like she could do anything as long as he was right there beside her along the way. she was sure he didn’t feel like same way for her and that’s exactly why she never mentioned anything remotely romantic to him, afraid of ruining years of friendship and companionship over her silly feelings

“so kinda like a pact? like if we aren’t aren’t married by 30 we’d just marry each other?” asked whitaker, his expression lazy and calm, leaning back against his chair, his long legs spread and inviting, fuck he was so hot

“y-yeah, exactly. maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but i think it’s a good idea” y/n says, eyeing the male in front of her like prey, a smirk painted on his rosy lips, his eye low

“i think so too,that’s our pact.”

⋆｡˚☤✧˖°.｡⋆

years later,back to the present:

now they’re in their mid 20’s, sharing an apartment together, inseparable with two cats named fish and gizmo. and as much as she absolutely adores the soft home she shares with dennis and her fuzzy children, she still feels like she’s missing out she still felt like she was lacking in experience and not to mention, still stupidly in love with dennis whitaker

she accepted the fact that her feelings for her best friend would never leave. as the years went by, her feelings just grew and grew like a plant thriving in nature and it didn’t help that dennis suddenly became hotter as he got older. physically, his frame now stronger and larger than before, his biceps more wide and beefy, his skin more healthier and lively, his hair longer and curlier. the best part of his glow up was his confidence and how it skyrocketed. every step he took oozed assertiveness and he never beat around the bush anymore, confronting anyone and not giving a fuck about people pleasing. it was extremely hot and it drove y/n insane, being able to see him mature into such a well-rounded man after all the years really made her fall for him even more. she just wanted to be wrapped around him like and feeling his heartbeat against hers but there wasn’t a way to subtly express that. 

y/n wasn’t sure if dennis even remembered their pact, she was too afraid to bring it up again but she didn’t really have any other option, and to be completely honest, he was the one she wanted to lose her virginity to. maybe she’ll just rip the band-aid off and go head first and ask him to take her virginity but what if he doesn’t want to lose his especially with her and he gets grossed out by the thought of being with her that way and never wants to see her again then kicks her out of their shared apartment…no, dennis wouldn’t do that to her, she knows that in her heart but her brain can’t help but come up with shit like that…whatever, she’ll just stay a virgin until she gets old and wrinkly, that sounds like the better out come.

by the time y/n clocked out, the sun was setting and the hot summer air was thick and heavy. summer in pittsburgh was very lively, the sound of horns, laughter and sirens were background noise to y/n by now, being desensitized by the chaos around her. she walked towards the front of PTMC and patiently waited on her best friend, usually dennis would be waiting on her because they clocked out during the same time but luckily today she was able to clock out a couple of minutes earlier than normal, having some time to relax and finally get a moment of peace, a moment where her brain can tune out everything and be blank.

as she stood next to the entrance of the hospital, the doors suddenly swung open, a cool refreshing gust of air blowing in her direction, she turned her head to the side and seen dennis and a fair skinned girl next to him, talking and laughing together

“i can’t believe robby let you cut through that dude’s chest, do you know how jealous i was, honestly, i still am” the short haired girl said, bumping her shoulder playfully into his “yeah, i can’t believe it either. i’m just glad he’s doing much better now. when he came in i thought he was a lost cause..all the trauma on his body..”dennis says, empathy heavy in his words, he was always such an empathetic and sensitive guy, that’s one of the reasons why y/n fell for him, she always seemed to go to him whenever she felt like she needed a shoulder to cry on and feeling validated, but it seems like other people are falling for his empathetic nature and sensitivity as well

“you’re always such a softy huckleberry. enough with the work talk, where are you headed now? wanna head to the bar with me? vic kinda flaked on me” she asked, her hands snug in her jean pockets waiting for his answer “uh, well i-“

“dennis” y/n says suddenly, her voice cutting through a little more rougher and possessive than she intended, the sound of her voice made her cringe a little, she heard the jealousy in her voice immediately but she couldn’t help it. seeing her best friend, the man she’s in love with getting close and comfortable with another woman, a beautiful woman. it didn’t sit right in her heart

dennis turned around to the sound of his name being called, his eyes landing on hers, the same eyes that taunted him since the day she introduced herself to him back in middle school, the same eyes that invaded his dreams in the late sleepless nights, the eyes that belonged to the woman he’s been in love with for years

“y/n h-hey,what are you doing here?” dennis asked with a small grin, being presently surprised, he’s missed her face all day “what? you aren’t happy to see me whitaker?” y/n asked, her voice patronizing, her tone shook dennis a little, his palms getting clammy. y/n has never called him whitaker unless she was really upset with him, but what did he do this time? he was sure he took the trash out the night before like she asked, he was sure he fed the cats before he left for work and he was sure he clocked out on time, was she waiting on him for longer than usual?

“u-um, no no, i’m really happy to see you y/n, always. i was just shocked to see you waiting out here, usually it’s the other way around.” dennis nervously laughs, making his way to where she stood with her arms stiff by her sides, his hands holding her elbows gently, trying to soothe the tension in her body “woah, huckleberry. since when did you have a girlfriend? not to mention, a girlfriend who’s completely out of your league” the black haired girl says, a wide smirk on her lips “trin please, not right now.” dennis says with rolling eyes, knowing that tone in her voice, he can feel how smug she was “i was able to clock out a little earlier than usual, so i decided to pick you up but it seems like you have plans already” y/n says with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, dennis immediately noticed, his heart rate increasing

“no, i don’t have any plans n/n. we can head home, i just want to wind down next to you on the couch, we need to finish that show too, remember?” his voice a little strained, y/n can visibly see the exhaustion heavy in his features and body language, the sight pulled on her heartstrings a little, maybe she overreacted and was a little selfish, not taking into consideration that he might’ve had a rough shift, he didn’t deserve her pitiful attitude right now. with a sigh y/n nods shyly, wrapping her arm around his like normally, falling into their routine

“so no bar, got it. see you tomorrow huckleberry and nice to see you huckleberry’s hot girlfriend” the girl named trin says as she walks away lazily, looking back with a knowing grin, dennis shook his head, he knew what was to come tomorrow morning.

“come on, let’s go home”

⋆｡˚☤✧˖°.｡⋆

the night went by like normal. the lights in the living room turned off, a shitty tv show playing, stuffing their faces with leftover food and their furry children playing around the apartment freely, the sound of their paws hitting against the floors softly. they haven’t spoken since they’ve arrived home which wasn’t anything unusual, after working long chaotic hours and standing on their feet without any breaks, of course they’d be extremely fatigued and exhausted to talk to each other, but this time that wasn’t the reason why y/n was silent. her mind wasn’t quiet and her heart heavy. she just wanted to feel the skin of her best friend on hers, breathing in his scent and  intertwining her soul and body with his, she just wanted him but for now she’ll just have to yearn for him from a far, glancing to the side to look at the handsome man sitting next to her on their old couch, her eyes landing on his perfect side profile, looking at the dark circles underneath his wide blue eyes, his pink chapped lips and his upturned nose

“are you upset with me?” dennis suddenly speaks as he pauses the the show that played on the tv, his voice soft and warm “no den..why would i be upset with you?” y/n’s eyebrows pulled together, still looking at his side profile, dennis clearly was avoiding eye contact with her “it’s just…early you called me by my last name, you never do that unless you’re upset with me…i just don’t want you to leave me in the dark here. won’t you tell me what i’ve done wrong?” his his eyes finally connecting with hers, his expression anxious and tight, his cracked hands wrapping around her hands. y/n felt like absolute shit, here she was thinking of how he’d feel underneath her with her legs wrapped around his hips while he’s worrying about what he’s done to upset her, she knew it was stupid to get jealous over a little interaction he had with his coworker but it reminded her that he’s not hers, other girls would try to take the most important person in her life, knowing one day he’ll come home with another girl all smiley and happy wrapped around his arm knowing it should be her.

that couldn’t be how things should end with her and dennis, she couldn’t keep the truth in her heart any longer, she needed to tell him about her feelings and facing the rejection like a woman should, like an adult should

“y/n…please just tell me, i don’t want-“

“i’m in love with you.”

the silence that followed was eerie, y/n can hear the sound of her labored breathing as her ears started ringing anxiously. this was the moment she knew would come, he’s going to be grossed out and tell her he doesn’t feel the same, he’s going to tell her he only sees her as a friend nothing more and-

dennis whitaker was now kissing her. his lips firmly pressed against hers, without any thought y/n cupped the sides of his face gently and pulling him closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth. wrapping her legs around his firm torso and slowly dry humping him, the sensation suddenly snapping dennis back to reality and him pulling back with wide eyes

“i’m sorry, i should’ve asked before k-kissing you, but i just couldn’t help it. i’ve been in love with you since middle school. i’ve waited so long for that” dennis admitted breathless “fuck, we could’ve been with each other all this time? let’s make up for it, yeah?” y/n muttered out, teasingly brushing her lips onto his, dennis groans against her lips with his hands wrapping around her waist “you remember our pact?” asked y/n, running her fingers through his soft curls, nails softly scratching his scalp “mmhm, i do baby” dennis immediately responded, eagerly hoping for her to touch him where he desperately needed attention “let’s stay true to it, you ready?” y/n asks, kissing up his hot neck then biting down his collarbone making him moan loudly, jutting his hips against hers

“fuck yes, please baby” dennis moans out, begging shamelessly “i’m yours den, be my good boy and make us feel good” y/n directed, biting down on her swollen lips, anticipating what his next move would be, dennis nodded rapidly as he positioned himself between her legs, wrapping his hands beneath her knees and placing them onto of his wide shoulders

he kissed her plush thighs as he rubbed delicately over her knees, the feeling of his lips and hands on her was making her shiver and squirm “den, please touch me, i need you so bad” y/n groaned, lifting her hips trying to get him to inch closer to her slick slit, hoping he’d take the hint “shhh, be my good girl and stay still. i’m right here, i’ll give you what you need baby” dennis says, his voice low and lustful, his hands roughly pressed her down into the couch to keep her still, his lanky fingers pulling down her wet panties down her legs then pulling them wide for him to comfortably lay between them, his eyes landing on her soaked cunt, his thumbs spreading her folds open “look at you, poor baby wetting my fingers like a needy girl. you needed my attention here didn’t you?” dennis teased, kissing directly on he’d pulsing clit, y/n whined at the sensation “yeah you did, be good and keep these legs open for me” dennis says before wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking softly then licking a long strip from her warm slit to the most sensitive part. his tongue circled her clit eagerly “mmm baby, am i doing it right?” dennis submissively asked, his puppy dog eyes looking up at her “yes baby, you’re doing so good for me” y/n validated him and he immediately dived back in, his middle and pointer fingers rubbing against her leaking entrance, slowly inserting them in between her velvety walls, y/n moaning out his name as she threw her head back

“y-yeah dennis, fuck, that feels so so good”

his fingers pumping in and out of her squeezing cunt, wetness coating his chin and fingers, dennis groaning against her loudly, his head spinning with desire, his hips humping against the couch cushion desperately, his cock rock hard and leaky “den,i-i’m about to cum, ffuck keep going, i’m cum-cummingg” y/n moaned out, the pitch of her voice sounded unnatural, she never heard her voice go so high but with the way dennis ripped out her release from her body effortlessly was earth shattering, her body shook against his hold, whines falling from his bitten lips feeling overstimulated as he kept sucking on her swollen clit. dennis gave her cunt one more lick before pulling off of her, looking down at her spent body, her body limp and satisfied, he suddenly stood up and rushed to pull his shirt and pants off, discarding them mindlessly on the floor “that’s my good girl, come on, we aren’t done.” dennis says as he picks up her body and places her on top of his, the tip of his stiff dick sliding between her wet lips

“you ready beautiful girl?” groaning out, his voice gruff and deep, y/n she nodded her head and she reached down to the collar of her shirt, ripping if off her frame and tossing it on the ground, her nipples perking up as the cool air hits them “my pretty girl, fuck you’re perfect. so perfect for me” dennis whispers, his hands reaching out and softly pinched her erected nipples between his fingers, his low lidded eyes watching her face crumble with pleasure, he leaned forward and sucked on her nipple eagerly, y/n’s back arched from the sensation

y/n grinding up and down his dick, feeling how hard he is for her as his tip caught against her weeping entrance “can i put it in now gorgeous? please? i need to feel you so bad” dennis moaned out through gritted teeth, he felt so sensitive he might cum just by her grinding on him, he couldn’t have his first time with the love of his life cumming even before he inserted himself inside her, that’ll be too embarrassing for him. y/n cupped his face and latched her lips on his, pushing her tongue on his, tasting herself on his lips, her hands reached between her legs and aligned his tip to her cunt, pushing her hips down and sitting on his dick, feeling each inch slowly sliding inside of her

they moaned together, she felt so full. this feeling was so new to her, the girth stretching her walls deliciously “oh ffuck baby, you’re so fucking wet, i feel your walls wrapping around my ddick” the pleasure was too much for him, his head falling back, his slender neck exposed and sweaty , y/n licked up his throat then sucked harshly, leaving a bright red mark that’ll definitely bruise by morning and she loved the thought of that

“fuck baby, this dick is all mine isn’t it?” y/n moaned in his ear, biting his sensitive lobe

“yes yes yes, all yours, always and forever baby, oh fuck, yeah” dennis whines out, his face flushed a vibrant red, his. curly hair sticking to his forehead. y/n quickens the pace, her hips roughly slamming down and whimpering with each slam, feeling his dick hitting spots her fingers weren’t able to. “b-bbaby baby wait- wait, oh fuck, keep fucking me like that, just like tthat” dennis wailed out, his crude grip on her hips helping her bounce on his dick, roughly bringing her down on him, his hips meeting hers eagerly.

dennis couldn’t think straight, the sound of his heartbeat and y/n’s pretty moans drowning any other sound around him, his brain fuzzing and fogging, his eyes glued on the lustful expression on her face, her eyebrows pinched together and her spot covered lips parted open. dennis needed more, he grabs her face and squishes her cheeks parting her lips even more, he gathered his clear spit and drooled it into her mouth with a deep groan “fuck yeah, swallow it baby,come on” dennis titillated, his fingers reach down to her clit, rubbing tight circles on it

“den-ffuck, so good so goood, i’m getting close again” y/n mewled out, latching onto his neck again, leaving more red marks against his neck “yeah? cum for me pretty girl, you can do it. cum on your dick like a good girl.” his blue eyes wide and wild, his hips fucking up harder making her body jolt roughly against him, her moans getting louder and lighter, dennis could feel her walls tightening on his dick, he felt dangerously close to his orgasm “yyeah baby, shit, i’m close too, cum with me please, please baby” dennis groans, his head fall back “den, i’m so close baby, shit i’m about to ccum”

“where do you want me to cum?” dennis whines, feeling the pressure deep in his stomach growing “i want it inside, i need it inside denny. fill me up like a good boy” y/n moaned out, bouncing faster leaving dennis at her mercy. y/n bounced harder until she shook against him, her movements pausing as her climax washed over her suddenly, dennis following right behind her, his legs shaking and his eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure. y/n’s body felt like jelly, unable to keep herself up she limped forward and laid on his sweaty chest, her ear pressed against him and hearing the sound of his heart violently pounding against his chest. y/n felt dennis’s palm rubbing up and down on her back, softly bringing her back to reality, soothing her harsh breathing

the silence wrapped around them like a blanket, it was a heavy kind of silence. y/n rubbed her cheek against his peck then kissing his chest gently, dennis brought her frame closer to his, his arms enveloped her tightly, pressing a kiss on her temple “i love you so much, i have for so long. i want to make this official, make us official. you don’t have to agree right now, i want to take you on a date and do this properly” dennis admits, his voice powdery soft, his eyes lacking any of the previous dominance and lust behind them “i love you more den, of course i want us to be official, i’ve been wanting that since forever. you kept me waiting long enough” y/n teased, a playful grin on her lips, dennis nipped at the exposed skin of her waist, making her squirm away

“i won’t have you waiting on anything else anymore baby, i promise.” dennis muttered, resting his head on top of hers, sleep starting to take over, y/n’s eyes drooping low forcing her to fully close them and letting sleep take over.

⋆｡˚☤✧˖°.｡⋆

dennis felt like he was walking on clouds.

he woke up laying next to the most prettiest woman, feeling her warm body against his, the smell of the lingering scent of her perfume hitting his nose pleasantly, the morning sun shining through his off white curtains, the golden brown beams hitting her like a sun-kissed angel. dennis felt himself falling harder than before, he didn’t even know that was possible.

the moment he stepped foot into the busy and chaotic ER, trinity rushed to his side, a knowing grin on her lips “so huckleberry, wanna tell me who that pretty girl was last night? she seemed really pissed, what was that about?” she teased, her arms folded against her chest, leaning far into his personal space, he turned to face the nosy girl to tell her to mind her business but then a sharp gasp ripped from her lips, her eyes intensely starting at his neck

oh fuck

“VIC, DANA COME SEE THIS NOW!”

this shift is going to kill him…

⋆｡˚☤✧˖°.｡⋆

₊  ֹ  ˖ DEAN DI LAURENTIS AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ᱺㅤㅤ   ୨౿ 

he’s such a nickname abuser. ‘pretty girl’ and ‘sweetheart’ are his go-to, but sometimes he switches to more cheesier terms of endearment to call you in front of other people just to embarrass you—pookie, munchkin, shnookums? yes! and hes loud about it too! this is my official statement that in another universe dean would pair extremely well with a shy, quiet reader. he’d love pulling her out of her comfort zone with his silly antics.

as his girlfriend, you’re entitled to receive random pecks and kisses all the time. i’m talking all the time. if you’re watching a movie together and he’s feeling a little neglected, he’ll grab your arm and kiss the entire length of it, not missing an inch, until you cuddle him. if you’re standing in line for something, he’ll be reading instructions while leaving kisses on your temple and in your hair. if you’re hanging out with friends and you’re on the couch while he’s sitting between your legs, he’ll be kissing your thighs the whole time until you gently kick him to stop.

he finds a random mic and sings you cheesy love songs when you’re having bad days, and him being so bad at it makes you laugh. dean makes it his mission not to stop until you’re laughing your ribs off and feeling better. sometimes it ends with him pulling you in to dance, or just holding you in his arms. those cuddles are your favorite because there’s so much love and safety in them. he’s genuinely the only person who can lighten your mood immediately with his stupid jokes, stupid kisses, and stupid big arms.

he’s a sniffer, and he would die and come back for the scent of your body. he perks up immediately, gorgeous green eyes finding yours the second he smells that coconut and vanilla scent in a packed room. he has a dramatic habit of randomly sniffing all over you and pretending like he’s high off it. it doesn’t matter if you’re alone or with other people. if you’re laying down together or hugging, his nose is immediately buried in your hair.

he cherishes your routines together. morning routines where he lets you shower first while he stays in bed for a couple extra minutes, then he goes after, and you brush your teeth together while he gets dressed and fixes his hair, and you do the same in front of the counter you’ve definitely used for more than just getting ready. eating breakfast together. post-dinner walks where he tangles your hands together. cooking dinner on friday nights—well, you do most of the cooking while he cleans and does basic prep, because if he’s in charge, you’re definitely eating burnt food. and the nightly gossip sessions, both of you with face masks on, leaning on your elbows facing each other. he makes you smile so much with all the locker room gossip your cheeks hurt, and you tell him campus rumors while he lets out theatric gasps.

besides physical touch and quality time, his love language is definitely gift giving. mention one thing one time, and boom—you have it next day or for a special occasion. he never runs out of gift ideas. it ranges from material things to more meaningful ones, like love letters he gets embarrassed about giving you.

to conclude, dean would be an amazing boyfriend. he’d be loyal and fully devoted to you. in his eyes, you would be the girl for him.

PATRICK FEELY, SFW/FLUFF ALPHABET

(a/n, right as i was finishing writing this, my tumblr crashed and erased a good half of this, so this will be posted in two parts !!)

A 𝄞 Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

it truly depends on the circumstances and the environment of where you both reside. when around others, or strolling the hauls of tommen, he’s much more private within his affection. his hand will almost always be found within your own, or if you’re seated it will find purchase on your thigh, softly caressing with his thumb, or drumming a tune along your skin.

though when youre alone? its a complete 180, a whole different scenario. he’s stuck to you like glue, clinging onto you for dear life, wrapped around you like a harness. his fingers are always tracing your skin or brushing through your hair, his nose often nudges against your jawline, softly tracing the curves. he cannot get enough of you, and he must simply always be touching you in some capacity.

B 𝄞 Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

he absolutely adores your smile, and your eyes. he would practically roll his eyes at himself for ever even considering admitting it aloud, but theres something so heavenly within the way your eyes widen within a soft gleam as you meet his gaze, even if others occupy the room. it keeps him going, and keeps his hope alive & strong.

C 𝄞 Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

he is most certainly one of the best individuals to have by your side within any form of tough situation in which one needs comfort. he’s calm, composed and collected, and is most importantly able to mix both logic and emotion within the situation.

he’s gentle with his touch, not cautious, but groundingly soft, the kind of velvety smooth touch that has you softening against him instantly.

he’s all soft tones and quiet volumes, speaking within a gentle husk of concern, though not enough to panic you further.

“hey, whats goin’, hm? talk to me, sweetheart” he coo’s as he gently pulls your body against his own, his eyes gently roaming across your features, studying you, but certainly not pushing, never ever pushing.

once you reveal the cause, he pulls you even closer. his hands find purchase within your hair, softly scratching and massaging your scalp, or perhaps rubbing soothing circles and patterns along your back, whatever seems to soften you further. all while he whispers within your ear, “shhh, baby. I’ve got you”

D 𝄞 Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

his favourite past-time is sitting upon various nature, picture esque scenes with you and simply talking about the complexities of life. patrick feely isnt one to open his heart to many, if any. though theres something about the way the wind softly blows your hair within the seemingly perfect direction, and the way in which your fingers aimlessly toy with a pit of grass that seem to make his heart feel safe within opening to its truest complexities.

though otherwise, he simply loves to lay upon your bed with you. your hand combing through his hair as he lays within your lap, or vice versa.

E 𝄞 Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

he’s almost shy about it, never embarrassed or anything even remotely close, though think of it as a silent devotion almost.

he’s observant within ways no one else is, he’ll notice whenever you seem to get sleepy or socially drained within group settings, quietly shying you away to a more quiet location, checking in and giving you space to recharge. he’ll be the first to pour you an extra drink (of any kind) when he notices your cup seems to be growing empty. his hand will find your own in overwhelming settings, rubbing the slow circles he’d meticulously rhythmised, realising the pattern had brought you comfort many moons ago.

its also shown within small, but inevitably meaningful touches. his hands brushing your hair back into place upon a windy afternoon, both of his calloused hands gently covering over your own or holding within a firmness to keep them warm.

F 𝄞 ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? are they fighting?

patrick feely is far from a shouter, his anger or frustration (and sometimes hurt) doesnt manifest within loud words and slammed doors, it manifests within an almost distant silence. he pulls back ever so lightly, the walls he’d allow you to see past building back up for a brief moment, showcasing within blank shrugs and even blanker stares. he’s slower to respond to texts or calls, in person his responses grow within that quiet edge that felt almost unfamiliar to you, unnatural of your dynamic.

though, he needs space for a beat or two to recharge. it depends on the situation at hand, if he manages to see a tear or two slip from your eyes, or a croaked apology, every wall comes crashing down. he holds you close and firm, hands stroking through your hair as his walls slowly crash down. if the roles are reversed, he wont openly bring up the fight himself, not unless you do. he’s the type to move on, act as if it was a small bump in the road that never happened to begin with.

G 𝄞 ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

he is extremely grateful, so grateful it almost hurts. though its a quite sense of thanks, one that is shown by silent actions of emotion. perhaps longer hugs than usual, holding you firmer than the last. or, its often shown in him opening up furthermore to you, allowing you a deeper glance inside his emotions

J 𝄞 ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

absolutely, he gets jealous extremely easily. though if you werent as in tuned with his emotions and reactions as you were, itd be near impossible to tell such things.

he simply grows quiet, much more quiet than usual, scarily quiet. though his jaw reigns harshly clenched, eyes blank, whole expression blank. not within the quiet, observant way it usually would paint.

much more intense. as if he were guarding his emotions and truth far too rapidly.

he doesnt explode, or grow moody. he simply tugs you close, rather pulling you onto his lap and kissing you senseless.

or, kissing you senseless, period.

he has no issue with having his hands hazardly roam along your skin, gripping every ounce of supple flesh, sending the individual in which had provoked such emotions his notorious smirk within revenge. almost as if to say, “mine, fucker”.

K 𝄞 Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

absolutely, his kisses make you understand the poetic nature behind such actions. his kisses feel like sparks, heat and flames all at once.

the first kiss was inherently needy, almost desperate and hasty within their pace. every unspoken emotion, every hushed need had been suppressed and kept secret for so long, it had simply erupted all at once, manifesting in the form of a desperation of a kiss, outlining every deep and fiery emotion he couldnt seem to say outloud.

L 𝄞 ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

to put it kindly, its an utter mess.

patrick feely was rarely nervous, youd never seen him hold even the slightest tremble of fingers, or the shakiest of tones.

but that day?

its like every blank stare, every unspoken word, and every emotionless reaction had all bottled up and erupted all at once.

he was the mere definition of nervous. he’d tried extremely hard to hide it, and as usual, he did so well. though you knew him better than that, you knew the give aways.

his fingers continuously drummed against his thigh, though for the first time, there wasnt a steady rhythm, no particular riff or beat he was following, just shaky, and uncoordinated motions.

his eyes never seemed to lock within your own, he avoided your gaze like the plague, instead focusing on a random speck of dust, then the small hole in the wall that he’d never seemed to notice before. anywhere but you; never you.

he had a way with words, always able to form perfect sentences. sometimes poetic at best, deep and logical at worst. but for the first time youd seen, he had seemed to be lost within what he was attempting to convey.

not stuttering, not shaky, simply unsure of what to say, or how to say it properly.

then, out of no where, he seems to find his beat, still reigning simple within wording, uttering the words within an almost deadbeat tone, as if they were nothing.

“i love you, and im tired of waking up every single day pretending that i dont.”

though he knew it meant everything. hell, everything and more.

N 𝄞 Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

it differs, depending on the scenario and what seems to be happening.

babe and baby are common contenders for most conversations, slipping through as if they were habit, as if it were illegal to call you anything else.

though when he’s feeling rather flirty, or simply wanting to make you flustered, he resorts to “pretty”, “pretty girl”, or either of the pair mixed within a possessive “my” in front. he coaxes such nicknames with a low husk and notorious smirk, knowing the dangerous potion the combination creates.

O 𝄞 n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

patrick is notoriously guarded, especially when his feelings are involved. he keeps most hobbies and other outlining traits towards himself, his rendezvous and night encounters being no different.

though, his friends start to notice something, or someone is going on behind the scenes when he seems to be all shy smiles as opposed to blank stares. and when they finally get the courage to ask if theres a lass behind his recent departure from being as mysterious as he once was.

he doesnt outright deny, or scoff it off. he nods knowingly, though adding within a soft shrug, “i suppose there is”.

cw: mdni (18+), nsfw, sexual themes, aged up haymitch, fem!reader, hand kink my beloved, teasing, kissing, he touches your face once and it’s over for you, canon-typical trauma reference, headcanons, thoughts, scenarios

a/n: haymitch and his pretty hands are finally here, as promised!! thank you all for the love and support !!my hand kink was going crazy with this one i saw this clip in the first trailer and it got me thinking…. so here we are (it’s 4am)

.✦ ݁˖ .✦ ݁˖ .✦ ݁˖ .✦ ݁˖ .✦ ݁˖ .✦ ݁˖ .✦ ݁˖

.✦ ݁˖ you first notice haymitch’s hands when he cups your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he squishes them together before kissing you. his palms are rough from years of gripping weapons and surviving the games, but the touch stays surprisingly gentle

JOHNNY KAVANAGH SFW A - Z ALPHABET

₊˚ ✧ ━━━ ━━━ ━━⊱⋆⊰━━ ━━━ ━━━ ✧ ₊˚

A ৻ꪆ Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

beyond affectionate, you never ever have to even consider questioning if this boy truly loves you or not, he doesnt even allow the question to manifest; thats how loudly in love he is.

he shows you this by constantly keeping you close, placing slow, tender kisses upon your skin within conversation or simple quiet moments. his arms always loop around you, or fingers gently caressing your skin. always innocent, always affectionate.

his tone is always soft & sweet with you, lacking any usual gruffness he’d have with gibsie or the rest of the lads.

very verbal, too. always checking in, expressing how gorgeous you look, what you do to him, always showcasing via words that youre the centre of his world.

B ৻ꪆ Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

it was never simply a friendship with johnny, no matter what he told himself, or vice versa.

perhaps hed told himself over & over the pair of you were “just friends”, hed plea the case of being too caught up & busy with rugby, hed simply never have the time for a relationship. but he knew it was an excuse, a poor one at that.

he never saw you as just a friend, the stolen glances were anything but friendly, filled with awe at best, concern & care at worst. you were his from the moment you two laid eyes upon each other, proclaiming you as his y/n, though was easy to shrug it off if the others brought it up.

keyword, shrug it off. never denied it.

because, of course he couldnt even consider denying something that was so painfully true. it was easy to tell within the way he looked at you, the way your presence alone distracted him from practice or rugby games themselves, something he was known for never being distracted within, despite the circumstances.

he’d slip up consistently, always dropping flirty comments, flirty nicknames, accidentally, like they were made to flow from his lips for you.

though again, hed never conceal it, or claim it was an accident of sorts. all youd get was a shy smirk, maybe a glance out the window at the most vague.

C ৻ꪆ Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

your head softly tucked underneath his chin, directly pressed against his chest as his arms wrap around you like a protective vice, safe & out of harms way within his hold.

he’s firm when he holds you, not rough or harmful, but enough to feel his presence, enough for you to consistently have a physical reminder that he was there, and for as long as he was there, you were safe & secure.

D ꪆ Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

once he’s with you, he’s set on you for life, no take backs.

he’s quite clean, a step behind a neat/clean freak. everything is placed specifically & tidy, any spills or drops of any form of liquid or otherwise is immediately cleaned up the second its dropped.

cooking is. well. a hit & miss. an omlette? scrambled eggs? chicken? boiled vegetables? its all good, anything protein based is hammered down to a tee. perhaps lacking any seasoning or flavour, especially if its cutting season, but its not bad, per say. just… decent.

though on your birthday for example, if he were to attempt to bake you a cake? itd come out lumpy & undercooked no matter how long it was within the oven for.

( the option for E was Ending, that is absolutely not applicable with johnny kavanagh because that boy would never leave you, period! )

F ৻ꪆ Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

absolutely, no doubt about it. he’s not the pickiest with how many kids he wants, he just knows after being an only child he’d definitely want more than one. though, its really up to you within his eyes, as many as youre willing to have with him.

& when, timing is everything for him. he’d prefer to start a family after his career has taken off, after basking within the fame & craziness for a while, when things feel a lot calmer & he has more of a career to stand on.

G ৻ꪆ Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

when receiving gifts, its almost as if the boy could cry from the thought alone.

no matter how big or small, he adores it entirely. he keeps the item forever, even if its a simple wrapper from a candy, it stays put with him for life.

giving gifts, he’s rather sheepish about it, a stark contrast from the usually all round confident lad. he’s more of a, “saw this and thought youd like it” kind of gift giver, though he often remembers small things mentioned within passing in conversations, those same things appear on the middle of your bed, hanging within your closet, or sneaked into your desk within a soft shrug days later.

H ৻ꪆ Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

always. point, blank, period.

walking the halls of tommen, seated within biddies casually holding hands underneath the table, leading you to god knows where, intertwined hands seated upon his or your lap as he drives.

he always needs your touch. his favourite gentle kinds of movement reign within hand holding,

I ৻ꪆ Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

injury or death, johnny couldnt seem to tell the difference.

a nervous wreck, really. no matter if it were a minor cut from carelessly chopping some fruit, or a proper broken arm, he would freak out just the same.

treating you more delicate than prior, if that was somehow possible. constant care, concern, watching, eavesdropping. he’s always there, beside you, behind you, gently cupping onto some form of your skin as if youd shatter & break any given moment.

youre genuinely not allowed to touch or lift a single thing when he’s around, no matter where the injury was located.

something involving your legs or feet? you stay right where you are, he’ll bring the world to you if he has too.

your hands/arms? he’ll open that jar, lift that pen, or move that blanket over you, and dont you dare even consider doing so yourself, an overreaction is probable.

J ৻ꪆ Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he doesnt necessarily get jealous, per say. he knows his worth, its never an insecurity based things or anything of the sorts.

though he’s certainly protective, the second he sees a guy lingering around you for too long, saying something that had seemed to make you uncomfortable he’s right by your side, calling them out within no shame when needed. perhaps even when unneeded.

K ৻ꪆ Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

slow, deep, smooth & tender.

he definitely has his moments in which he shows you how desperate he is for you, how much he needed your touch. though his normalcy is slow kisses of pure affection & emotion, he loves taking his time with you, kissing you like it was the only thing that mattered.

his hands cup your cheek, on one side, or either, sometimes the back of your head to pull you gently closer, other times his hands tangle upon your waist, hauling you closer himself.

even his small kisses reign slow & lingering, his temple kisses linger for a beat too long, his knuckle kisses the same sense.

L ৻ꪆ ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

its very random, not necessarily planned within the slightest, not creating a set moment in which it was supposed to happen, not formulating a certain verbal letter in which he wanted to confess with.

it just, well, comes out.

i imagine something along the lines of him perhaps driving you home, though youd always found him taking detours to mcdonalds or other places, even if it was simply for a drink. it felt like he was doing it to prolong the time hed spent with you, though it wasnt fully clear.

your simply sitting within the passenger side, taking a sip of the drink youd ordered with your meal, eyes glancing out of the car, watching the rain carelessly flow onto passers by.

his eyes were glued onto you within awe. they always were.

“y’so beautiful, d’ya know that?”

he practically whispers, loud enough for you to catch over the gentle splay of rain.

it was safe to say it caught you out of your daze.

you blink a couple times as you meet his expression, attempting to figure out if youd heard him correctly or were simply imagining such things.

“always thought y’ were unbelievable, ever since i saw ya’, really”

he proceeds, confirming your thoughts without releasing.

then it seems to go on from there, confession after confession falling out of those perfect lips, ending in the inevitable kiss in which left your food long forgotten.

M ৻ꪆ Melt (what do you do that makes them melt?)

soft kisses absolutely wreck the boy. wether theyre on his temple as you toy with his hair, on his lightly bruised knuckles as you sit within biddies, or the plea of popcorn kisses you litter upon his face after a small disagreement, they leave his heart fluttery & mind mush with affection

N ৻ꪆ Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

losing you, or you getting hurt or injured within any senses. the thought of something happening to you while he isnt around or there to protect you makes him sick to his stomach

O ৻ꪆ n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

obvious is an understatement.

the main give aways are far from vague, especially to the people who know him best.

during rugby practice or games, if youre anywhere even remotely near his eyes will constantly drift back to you, sometimes missing key parts of the game because of it.

his concentration isnt as good as it usually is, period. he often drifts off into deep thought about you, eyes all dreamy & concentrated, heavily. even within the most unnecessary times.

his head always twitches towards a conversation the second he hears your name, often immediately involving himself, or standing close enough to hear each & every word.

“my y/n?”

P ৻ꪆ Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

baby is the main contender, so much so that its almost as if he’d forgotten your name entirely, replacing it with baby instead.

sweet girl is a second one, this ones usually used in times of comfort, maybe when youre not feeling the best within some shape or form.

Q ৻ꪆ Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

honestly? he’s simply just happy if youre by his side. you could be doing nothing together, or the strangest side-quests and hed be just as happy within either scenario.

R ৻ꪆ Rhythm (what song reminds them of you?)

( not using songs featured in the books !!! )

you and me, lifehouse

and i love her, (the beatles or kurt cobains cover)

i believe in a thing called love, the darkness

S ৻ꪆ Secrets (how open are they with you?)

super open, he tells you everything from the most minor details, (what he ate today, the 40572 different sentences that left gibsies mouth at practice, the way he felt during the last maths test. everything).

though, he’s definitely more prone to keep things to himself if he was worried of concerning you. things like his injuries, things that bella wilkinson or other snakes had said out of pure jealousy. he only keeps such things to himself for three reasons, one being the fact that he hates the idea of worrying you a fraction, even if it’s something thats more than worrying. the second being he doesnt want to concern himself (like the injury, downplaying the severity so he can get on with life how he usually would), or simply because he doesnt want outside drama or opinions to have the option to hurt you, he wants to protect you from such things.

T ৻ꪆ Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

a few months, only due to the inevitable phase of denial in which johnny put himself through. though the second the delusion wore off, he was quick to drop his defences & make you his girl, officially

U ৻ꪆ Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

the most caring boy known to man kind. the world immediately stops around you the second he sees your eyes drift off, your lip tremble, those pretty eyes glass over. no matter who hes talking too, what he’s doing, you instantly become his man focus.

again, somehow he manages to grow more gentle than usual. his touches grow cautious, not within a negative sense, though concerned to push you too far, yet needing to show you he was here & comfort you if needed.

a lot of reassurance, cooed words of concern & gentle reminders to breathe, that hes right there, everythings okay, etc.

youd had a seemingly terrible day, one of those obnoxious time frames in which everything seemed to go oppositely wrong within all the worst ways.

to start the day off, the breakfast youd planned the night prior had ran out, then your hair seemingly wasnt cooperating with you even slightly. your socks were mismatched due to the otherone disappearing, and the cherry ontop of the morning was being only a minute late for the bus, watching it drive away without a care in the world.

the actual day at school was worse. much worse. you had homework due that you somehow werent aware of, the work felt much harder than usual; all of your pens had leaked within your pencil case. it was a mess of a day.

now, though, you were at your boyfriend johnnys home, the weight of the day still weighing off of your shoulders, though easing ever so lightly as you lay upon johnnys chest, watching him game within weary, tired eyes.

though within a shaky breath he drops the controller, seemingly pausing the game moments prior, gently manoeuvring the fallen locks out of your face to press a gentle kiss onto your temple, slow & lingering, like he knew you needed it.

“i needa take a quick piss, baby. ill be back before ya’ know it”

he whispers within tha notorious dublin husk, pressing one last kiss onto your skin before darting towards said bathroom, long legs working as fast as they usually would.

and for some reason? the first moment of silence is what seems to break you.

the tears fall quickly, the bottled up emotions of the day outpouring all at once. maybe it was because you felt safe enough to do so, or maybe it was due to this moment being the first one spent alone all day. you couldnt tell, all you knew was each tear fell as fast as the last.

johnny comes back within a record time, almost as if he subconsciously sensed something was wrong.

i mean, he knew his girl like the back of his hand.

his expression drops the second his eyes surrender along your tearstruck expression, eyes immediately wavering within concern.

“fuckin’ knew it”

he mutters underneath his breath, motioning towards you within pure haste, gently kneeling infront of you within a slow caution.

“hey, hey. whats wrong, baby? whats got my girl all teary?”

he gently whispers as one hand finds your knee, large palm gently caressing the skin within slow, tender back & forth circles, all while the other simultaneously cups your jawline, directing your weary gaze into his own.

the sight makes his heart clench almost immediately, the silence following only solidifying.

“oh, baby”

he whispers, sitting himself back onto the couch, pulling you against his broad frame within one swift motion, arms looping around you within a protective vice.

“a bad day, hm? knew somethin’ was off the second y’walked through the door, sweet girl”

he then proceeds to cradle the back of your hair, hands caressing your silky locks as he presses gentle kisses of affection onto each space possible.

V ৻ꪆ alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

you are undoubtedly number one in his life.

above rugby, above everything. if it came to the crunch, he’d give up everything in a heartbeat for you. he’d much rather be by your side for life than anything else. if he’s got you, thats all that matters

W ৻ꪆ Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

you fighting? he’d be conflicting. he’d be proud as punch of you for standing up for yourself, all wide grin and proclaiming his proud stance. though, he’d also be the type to worry relentlessly, not wanting you to get hurt, wether thats mentally or physically.

and he would absolutely fight for you. no doubt about it.

johnny is notoriously loyal, and no matter what he’ll stand by your side, defending you until the sun goes down.

he’s never the type to simply “let it go”, no matter how small or minor, youre his girl, and he’s certainly gonna stand up for his girl.

X ৻ꪆ X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

he knows you like the back of his hand. all it takes is one small twitch, a second of a change of tone, or maybe you used a different word than what you usually would. all he knows is its different, and he’s far too well versed within you to not understand what was going on, good or bad

Y ৻ꪆ earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

how will he cope? in simple terms, he doesnt.

he whines. an absolute grump to anyone around him, so much so that the people around him had learnt far too quickly that he was a grump for the simple reason of missing you.

i mean, when youre all he can seem to talk about in such times its hard not to put two & two together.

constantly walking around with a frown, an edge, shoulders slumped like the world was about to end. and to him? god it felt like it truly was.

Z ৻ꪆ Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

You crane your neck to look at Johnny, taking his attention away from the tv playing a random film and onto you.

The lights were dim and the blanket (and Johnny) was keeping you warm, creating the most perfect cozy atmosphere for your movie date night. Looking up at your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by your feelings.

You’d only been officially dating for three weeks, but it felt like the longest time ever. Maybe because you waited so for long.

Johnny was perfect. He was funny, smart, caring, and genuinely listened to everything you said.

It didn’t hurt that he was also drop-dead gorgeous, 6’5, and had insane muscles. Seeing them was one thing, but feeling them wrapped around you? You almost stopped breathing.

That’s why you just had to give him a kiss. Or two... Or three. Maybe even a few more than that. You couldn’t help yourself. Not when you could finally express your feelings freely.

Your lips pressed against his cheek, his soft, barely-even-there dimples making an appearance. His hand came up to cup your chin, pulling you closer for a real kiss.

When you pulled back, intending to continue admiring him, you noticed his lips were a bit more pink than usual. Then your eyes fell to his cheek, which had a big smudge of pink sheen on it.

A quiet giggle escaped from your lips, a shy smile breaking out on your face. You felt your cheeks warm, embarrassed by your mark left on his face.

“What’s funny, baby?” He asked with a knowing grin, and even if you couldn’t see him you would know he was smiling from the sound of his voice alone. “Got something on my face?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying uselessly to hide your smile. “No.” When your hand started to come up, planning on wiping his face clean, he caught you by your wrist.

“Uh-uh. Leave it.”

“Johnny.”

“I love it. Shows I’m yours.”

“Jonathan.”

“Baby.” He grinned like he had already won, giving you another kiss on the lips. But you didn’t kiss back, nor did you push him away. It wasn’t like you actually didn’t want the kiss, you just wanted to play around with him a little bit.

He pulled back with furrowed brows.

“Really?” He started pushing his head in your neck, giving it a few quick pecks that tickled. You fell on your back, forcing Johnny to have to hover over you in your new position for his hands to creep up your sides.

You laughed so hard your core hurt and your eyes were filling with tears, when his hands finally stilled against your hips and his lips met yours again.

This time you couldn’t fight it. Your lips moved against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss. His thumb ran comforting circles against your hips, the tv still blaring and flashing brightly.

Johnny pulled away just enough to stay close but be able to see you. His soft, masculine voice came out so quietly you almost missed it, barely more than a breath when he said, “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, then started pounding, a million thoughts racing through your head. You stayed quiet longer than you meant to, your body struggling to catch up with your brain.

“Shite. Too soon?” While Johnny was doing his best to hold his composure, trying to seem like he wasn’t beyond nervous, you saw right through it. “Ya don’t have to say it, if y’aren’t ready.”

You shook your head, “I love you too, Johnny.”

A giddy smile broke out on his face, his cheeks redder than they were earlier but this time it wasn’t because of the lipgloss.

“Are you... Are you blushing, Jonathan Kavanagh?”

“Oh, shut up. Y’made me nervous.”

Pairings: Daeron Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Daeron is the sweetest boy you ever met.

WARNINGS: teeth rotting fluff, fluff, fluff

A/n: my boy deserves the world. The new episode made me so emotional about him

masterlist | wc: 2.8k

WHEN YOU first met Daeron, you did not recognize him. How could you have? Though his name was among the most illustrious in the Seven Kingdoms, no one had ever told you that not all Targaryens were the same. In your mind, they all had long silver hair, violet eyes so intense they seemed unnatural, and that distant air belonging only to those born too high to lower their gaze toward common folk. The young man who had stopped in front of your father's shop did not match that image. He wore thick mahogany-colored hair that the sun turned copper, loosely tied at the nape of his neck but long enough to brush against it, and he was dressed in a simple emerald-green robe, devoid of any ostentation. If not for that faint violet tint coloring his irises, almost imperceptible when the light did not strike them directly, and for the young dragon with cobalt-blue scales that sometimes soared over the rooftops of Oldtown without ever straying too far from him, you would never have imagined you were standing before a prince of the blood.

But truth be told, you had not even noticed. What had struck you was not the color of his eyes or the blood running through his veins. It was his kindness. The way he spoke was different from that of the wealthy men who entered your family's shop every day, convinced that a handful of coins entitled them to bows and smiles. His voice was calm, soft, and every word seemed carefully chosen. He had large, delicately shaped eyes, like those of a fawn, so sincere they seemed incapable of lying. When he smiled, he did so faintly, without display, as though that smile belonged only to those fortunate enough to deserve it. And you, who until then had known only hurried customers, profit-driven merchants, and nobles too proud to truly look at you, had been almost dazzled by that simplicity. He had called you my lady with such natural ease that you had turned around to see who stood behind you. You had even laughed, convinced he had made a mistake.

Because you were no lady. You were only the daughter of a merchant wealthy enough to grant his family a decent life within the walls of Oldtown. You had a comfortable home above the shop, well-crafted furniture, and clothes made from better fabrics than most people in the city could afford, but nothing that could even begin to approach the luxury of nobility. Your mother sewed your dresses herself, patiently embroidering small floral patterns along the hems because she wanted to see you elegant even without fine silks, while your father often said that the greatest wealth was the honesty with which one earned coin. And you had always believed him. You had never longed for castles or crowns; it was enough for you to wander the streets of Oldtown, lose yourself among the market stalls, or leaf through the books you managed to obtain thanks to the maesters of the Citadel. Your life was simple, and until that day, you had thought it would remain so.

You met him on an afternoon that, until moments before, had seemed identical to all the others. Sunlight filtered through the shop's open windows, illuminating the shelves displaying decorated vases, hand-painted tableware, and small objects from every corner of the Westerlands. The air smelled of polished wood, beeswax, and spices brought from the harbor by merchant ships. You were carefully arranging newly arrived goods when two men, already visibly drunk, entered arguing loudly. At first, it seemed like one of the many quarrels destined to fade into a few insults. Then the shouting grew louder, one seized the other by the collar, and in an instant the shop became the stage for their anger.

A shelf was struck violently. A vase fell, shattering into dozens of gleaming fragments on the floor. Then another, and another. Plates, bowls, and ceramics broke one after the other, while your father tried in vain to make them stop. You, barely thirteen at the time, rushed between them with the sole intent of separating them. You believed raising your voice would be enough to bring two grown men to their senses. One of them, without even noticing you, shoved you aside with his arm. You fell backward, your side striking the floor. The pain came a moment later, along with the deafening sound of yet another vase breaking.

That was when the shop door burst open and a young man with mahogany-colored hair stepped inside, accompanied by an armed guard. He did not raise his voice, nor did he draw a sword. He simply observed the scene with a steady gaze so authoritative that even the two drunkards stopped fighting. He spoke only a few words, uttered with that calm that seemed natural to him, and the guard intervened without hesitation. The men were restrained and dragged outside amid increasingly weak protests, destined to receive a punishment you did not yet know but would later learn was more than deserved.

Only when all noise had ceased did the young man turn toward you. He found you still sitting on the floor, surrounded by shards of broken ceramics. A faint grimace of pain had appeared on your face, one you stubbornly tried to hide. He crouched in front of you without the slightest hesitation, unconcerned by the dust or fragments scattered everywhere. His gaze settled carefully on your face, as if searching for the smallest scratch. He seemed genuinely worried, and that confused you more than anything else.

"Have you been hurt, my lady?"

Ah, such sweet words those were, especially for a young girl whose mind was filled with the romantic stories she devoured in her beloved books.

Only after making sure you were unharmed did he extend his hand. When he helped you to your feet, he used no excessive force, as though afraid of hurting you. You lowered your gaze to your joined hands, unable to understand why a stranger was treating you with such care.

In the days that followed, he returned. At first, you thought it was only to make amends for the damage caused by those two men. He provided the money needed to replace every broken item, personally ensured that those responsible would never set foot in the shop again, and spoke several times with your father, who kept thanking him without knowing how to repay such generosity. But when every debt had been settled and no practical reason remained for him to come, Daeron continued to visit anyway. Sometimes he bought a book, other times a simple cup he likely did not need at all. Often, however, he simply stayed a few minutes to talk with you. And slowly, those minutes turned into hours.

The years passed almost without you noticing. The friendship born in such an unlikely way grew along with you. Daeron listened to every story you told with an attentiveness that made you feel important, even when you spoke only of a new manuscript found at the public library or some particularly demanding elderly customer. He asked which books were your favorites, remembered the names of the flowers you loved, and laughed at your jokes with genuine ease.

The sound of footsteps pulled you from the thread of thoughts that had surfaced in your mind. The image of the thirteen-year-old girl sitting on the shop floor slowly faded, giving way to the present. Now you were fifteen and seated in the shade of a great tree just outside the walls of Oldtown, in the place where you now met whenever Daeron managed to slip away from his duties. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, scattering small sparks of light across the grass, while the summer breeze gently swayed the tall blades and carried the scent of wildflowers blooming nearby. The book you had with you lay forgotten on your lap, open halfway, while your pale pink dress, embroidered with fine golden threads along the bodice and sleeves, moved softly with the wind.

You lifted your gaze, and your face lit up the moment you saw him. Daeron was standing before you. He wore his usual emerald-green tunic, cinched at the waist with a worn leather belt, and his hair, only half gathered at the nape, framed his face with a gentle softness. For an instant, he looked like the boy he had always been, and a spontaneous smile appeared on your lips. "Daeron! I thought you would be flying with Tessarion at this hour."

He lowered his gaze slightly before walking toward you. He sat beside you, resting his back against the tree trunk, but did not answer right away. His hands remained clasped on his knees, his shoulders slightly slumped, and the expression shadowing his face was one you had learned to recognize over the years, the one that appeared whenever something within the walls of the Hightower, or among the tangled affairs of his family, deeply troubled him. You frowned faintly, watching him in silence. The joy with which you had greeted him gave way to a subtle concern, for you knew Daeron well enough to understand that if he had given up a flight with Tessarion, then something truly important must have happened.

You reached for his hand gently, slowly intertwining your fingers with his as though you feared he might vanish at any moment. His skin was warm, rough in places where calluses, born from endless hours with a sword in hand, had replaced the softness of childhood. With your thumb, you absently traced the back of his hand, watching how the sunlight filtered through the branches above, weaving golden shadows across his features. There was something different in his eyes that day. You looked at him with quiet tenderness, tilting your head slightly as a soft smile tried to reassure him even before your words did. "What is it? You look worried."

The prince, your prince, slowly raised his gaze to meet yours. For a few moments, he remained silent, as if searching for the right words, or perhaps the courage to speak them. Daeron had never been good at hiding what he felt; his face was far too honest a mirror of his heart. He drew a slow breath, lowering his eyes to your joined hands before speaking in a quiet voice. "Lord Ormund has forbidden me from flying with Tessarion. He says I must train more with the sword." He paused, biting lightly at the inside of his cheek. "He claims it is a skill no prince should lack."

Your brows curved into a faint expression of displeasure as the name of Lord Ormund Hightower crossed your thoughts like a storm-laden cloud. You wanted to tell him exactly what you thought of that man. You wanted to call him narrow-minded, arrogant, someone who committed unspeakable acts in the name of the gods. But every insult remained trapped behind your closed lips. The urge to curse that man was strong, yes, but your patience, and your love for the boy before you, were stronger. That was not what Daeron needed. You took a slow breath, letting the breeze stir a loose strand of your hair. "Lord Hightower is... a mystery." The words came out slowly, measured, as if chosen one by one. If such a term could even define him. "I admit it is difficult to understand his intentions. He is not a man who easily reveals what he truly thinks, and when he makes a decision, it is rarely out of simple whim." You paused for a moment, watching the shadow that still lingered on his face. "I am sure everything will be alright."

The moment the words left your lips, you realized they had done nothing to ease the weight pressing on his heart. His eyes remained clouded with the same melancholy, and his shoulders still bore the invisible burden of an entire kingdom. You silently reproached yourself. You had tried to be rational when all he truly needed was comfort. So, without thinking further, you took his other hand as well, enclosing both of them within yours as if you could shield him from the entire world with that simple gesture. The warmth of your intertwined fingers spread through your chest. At last, Daeron looked back at you, and in his eyes you found that unwavering trust he had always reserved only for you.

You drew a slow breath, searching for better words. "Daeron, you are the kindest, gentlest boy I know." Your smile grew just a little as you spoke. "You are intelligent. You think before you act, you listen to others when no one else would, and you have such a great heart that you even worry for those who do not return your kindness." You squeezed his hands lightly. "And do not believe, not even for a moment, that you lack strength. You have it, truly. You are the strongest boy I know." You shook your head slightly, a playful smile touching your lips. "Lord Ormund is a fool if he cannot see all of this."

The sound of his name on your lips tasted like wine, salt, and longing. A shiver ran down his spine, and before he could stop himself, a shy smile appeared on his lips. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to melt the tension that had stiffened every muscle in his body just moments before.

Then one of the hands you held slipped gently free. You watched as it rose to your face, his fingers brushing a stray lock that had escaped the careful arrangement you had made that morning. He tucked it behind your ear with such tenderness that it made you hold your breath. Then his palm found your cheek, warm against your skin, while his thumb absentmindedly traced the small beauty mark that adorned your cheekbone like a tiny constellation. His touch was both hesitant and certain, as though he feared to offend you, yet could no longer resist reaching for you.

Daeron remained still, utterly captivated by you. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting golden light upon your hair and rendering your face almost unreal. Everything else seemed to fade away. He no longer heard the birdsong nor the whisper of the wind through the leaves. There was only you. So ethereal, so radiant, that for a fleeting moment he thought he was gazing upon the Maiden herself, descended from the heavens to grant him a single, precious blessing. He wondered absently whether the gods were jealous of your beauty. Perhaps they were. For no mortal should possess such pure light.

It was his heart that decided for him before his mind ever could. His body moved almost on its own, guided by an impulse he had tried to suppress for months, perhaps years. He leaned toward you, slowly enough to give you time to stop him, but you did not. Your foreheads nearly brushed, his breath mingling with yours. And then, in an instant, his lips finally met yours. It was a gentle, shy, clumsy kiss, the first of two young souls who had loved each other long before finding the courage to confess it. The world could have crumbled around them in that moment; dragons might have torn across the sky in war, castles might have fallen, kingdoms might have shattered. As long as your lips continued to seek his, nothing else mattered to him.

When the kiss broke, Daeron remained only inches from your face, unable to pull away. His heart seemed to have forgotten how to beat, only to make up for lost time with such force that he feared you might hear it. His cheeks had flushed a deep red, like the ripe cherries that grew in your garden during summer, and even his ears had taken on such a vivid hue that it drew an amused smile from you. He was adorable in his awkwardness, so unlike the proud, arrogant princes sung of by minstrels. Your Daeron was simply a lovable boy.

"I swear by the Old Gods and the New..." he whispered, his voice trembling, never once looking away from your eyes, as though he feared that even the slightest glance aside might cause everything to vanish like a dream. "One day, I will make you my wife." The words came softly, almost like a prayer offered to the gods themselves, and yet he spoke them to you.

His words filled your stomach with a fluttering swarm of butterflies. A gentle warmth spread across your face, coloring your cheeks, while your heart beat with a lightness you had never known before. You lifted a hand to touch his, still resting against your cheek, intertwining your fingers with his once more with infinite tenderness. You looked at him, smiling, your eyes bright with happiness. "Then I shall await that moment with great impatience, my prince."

let you make me juno

pairing: butch!clark kent x reader

summary: after attending a coworker’s baby shower together, clark tries to figure out how to get you pregnant.

word count: 1.6k

tag list: @punksnotdeadbutiam, @unabashedlyinlovewithyou,@whotfisthatsblog,@wildernessmuse, @starwarsbian, @lilacsandlavenderhaze, @florayli, @gingerfemme22, @peachyvillehorror, @cerezzzita, @kryptidfiles, @garrettgr4h4m, @rynwritesstuff, & @bellathebookdevouer | wanna be added?

content warning: 18+ only!!!!! this is literally breeding kink the fanfic™. kinda proofread if you squint. clark gets baby fever and makes it the reader’s problem. gotta love her!! mild rough sex and overstimulation. brief mention of fingering and oral sex (both r!receiving) clark fucks you with an EJACULATING STRAP!!!! creampie in a way 💘💘. mating press position and tummy bulge. might be my best smut yet i fear.

a/n: HIII GUYS!!! i am so sorry for not posting. my life has been soooo crazy lately and not only did i not have the time to write, but i was struggling with writer’s block. this fic was also only supposed to be 500-800 words, WHOOPS! hope you all enjoy it. reblogs and comments are appreciated especially when tumblr hates me 😁😁.

LISTEN TO THE SONG FOR THE FULL EXPERIENCE

It doesn’t start with a positive pregnancy test. Or a conversation about kids. Instead, it starts with a coworker’s baby shower.

Or rather, a baby being forced into your arms despite your objections.

pairing: clark kent x f!reader | genre: smut | wc: 1k

summary: clark’s too pussy drunk to care that there’s an alien invasion in the city.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), established relationship, needy!clark, unprotected sex (p in v), riding, overstimulation, possessiveness, mild praise kink, clark ignoring superman duties, reader called "baby"

a/n: i hope you guys like it!! <3

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