[jacaerysdoe]

 ‎                ꒰ . . ─━╋ bambi! 9teen years old she her mdni

 ‎                ⛪️⛪️💭💭 tulsa jesus freak...

    ‎outer banks deer. rafes sweetheart. drew starkeys controversially young gf. farmers daughter. clark kent’s puppy. southern bitch. lewis pullmans wife. fuck me eyes. queen of age gaps. preacher's daughter. jon snows betrothed. leon kennedys baby.

 ‎                ⟡ 🦌 . . . . ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

[yunsera-deactivated20260427]

back to you 𑣩𑣨

🍥 leon kennedy x f. reader ✦ fluff & comfort established relationship 𝓦. pet names, physical touch, small kiss, layout insp by @m6cabre ♡︎ NOT PROOFREAD.

“leon, pleaseee.”

your whines were amusing to your husband, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. he stood in your kitchen, tall and broad, fixing some stupid thing on the sink that you had mentioned to him once or twice before. you were behind him, clinging to his frame desperately.

leon was leaving, yet again, for another mission. in two days time, your home would be empty as it had been before when he was needed in raccoon city. his woodsy aroma lingering on nothing but your bedsheets and his side of the bed.

to say that you were lonely when he left was an understatement. not that you were afraid to be alone or couldn’t do things on your own, but you missed him. you craved him when he wasn’t around, and the thought of him being severely injured—or worse—constantly plagued your thoughts.

and with these thoughts, as terrible as they were, it made time go by much slower. whether he was gone for two weeks or two days, it always seemed like an eternity.

but you had done some thinking when he left the last time, wondering what you could possibly do to make sure he was safe at all times. obviously, he was the one doing the protecting most of the time, but who was going to make sure he was okay? leon could take care of himself, but it didn’t matter to you. you wanted to be the one he could lean on. he was always on the go, hardly taking a break, and it stressed you out when you couldn’t do anything about it.

“for the last time, honey,” leon shook his head, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smirk.

“no.”

you tried, so very hard, to convince leon to let you tag along, be at his side on this one. but he refused again and again. and knowing how stubborn he could be, you knew you probably wouldn’t win on this.

you buried your face into his back, groaning in frustration.

“but it drives me crazy, knowing you’re constantly putting yourself in danger!”

leon sighed, putting a pause on the task in front of him. he leaned against the sink for a moment, letting you just rest against his back before he said anything.

“and it keeps me sane knowing that you’re here safe.”

your shoulders slumped in defeat as his words settled in. you knew that was the only thing that kept leon going—knowing you were well.

he could never live with himself if something happened to you, he loved you more than he could ever love himself.

nothing was said after for a bit, the silence was deafening and the air around you felt thick. he wasn’t upset with you, nor could he blame you for the idea, but he wanted you to know how crucial your safety was to him.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he exhaled. he turned to face you, your head now resting against his chest.

his palm came to cradle the back of your head as he bent down slightly, scruff scratching gently at your skin before you felt the plush of his lips.

“i’ll be home before you know it, just like always.”

“but what if you don’t? what if you don’t come back, lee?” you mumbled into his chest, a small lump forming in your throat. he could hear the waver in your voice, but was quick to pull you closer.

“shh,” he consoled.

“if there’s one promise i make to myself everyday, it’s just that; to come back to you.”

[dollyivy]

─── gw. age gap relationship, mature sexual content, oral sex (giving), dirty talk, vaginal sex, leon loves to spoil you.

─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who, once again, is forced to leave on a mission before the sun can even get its chance to rise— fresh out of his morning shower, hair wet with droplets of water soaking the towel on his shoulders; his chest is bare, grey hairs shaved barely a few weeks ago are growing again; his stubble is messy and grey, unkept and his huge biceps flex naked, while his eyes skim through a report of an ongoing investigation on your couch.

you prop your head in his lap, head nested against the fabric of leon’s black sweats, knees rubbing on the plush carpet. leon takes his eyes away from the papers, staring down at you when you decide to lie down in front of him.

“don’t sit on the floor like that. c’mere, i wanna hold you before i go,” leon pats on his lap and he drops the stack of papers next to him, “you’re gonna make me worried, doll. layin’ like that on the floor in the winter and catchin’ a cold while i’m gone.”

“don’t care!” you rest your chin on his knee and yawn,— big, soft eyes, still half asleep, pupils so dilated your eyes almost melt black, both arms wrapped tightly around his leg. you look at him like he’s your entire universe— like his depart will genuinely break your heart in a million pieces. but you’ve grown used to this because, after all, leon kennedy is the most indispensable agent of the dso.

“don’t leave, leon. please, i’ll be so sad! do you wanna see me sad?”

“don’t have much of a choice, sweet girl. i gotta.” leon keeps his fingers tangled through your hair wrap your arms around his leg tighter, nose buried in his black sweats.

“mmm…i know,” you mumble, “same old, same old. duty calls.”

“that pink little porsche of yours wasn’t gonna buy itself, right?”

right.

“y’know that’s not why i’m with you.” you pout, arms wrapping snuggly around his leg.

─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who knows you’re not dating him for his money. and even if you were to, he wouldn’t think twice and still spend a majority of his hefty paychecks solely to spoil you rotten.

“yeah. i know. not that i’d mind it.”

there’s moments when leon’s insecurities get the best of him. he cannot help but wonder why, from all people, you’ve chosen to date him. after all, if there’s something truly wrong with leon kennedy, undoubtedly, there’s something inside of you just as equally wrong.

“i’d still let you spend every dollar, beautiful. i’d never wanna see those eyes of yours sad.”

leon kennedy is now an old man— almost fifty years old, twice your age, damaged beyond any possible repair, with a baggage so enormous no human on this earth could take away.

“now, quit sittin’ on the floor and let your old boyfriend hold you.”

he leaves for days, sometimes even weeks, stuck with investigating urgent and severe bioterrorism cases all over the country.

“i just… i wanna take care of you this once. and then i’ll let you go. how’s that sound?”

what leon fails to always fully grasp is that you see beyond what he decides to put for display. he’s old, sure. he fucks you better than any man you’ve met, also sure— but he’s mature in everything and grown, he’s cares. he’s the epitome of genuine compassion.

and he knows how to fuck insanely good.

“mm… you have no idea how much i’ll miss sucking you off,” you moan and lock your lips in a soft kiss on leon’s happy trail and you stay there, head pressed against his clothed bulge with his fingers running through your hair— and you stare back at him with the most doe-eyed expression in your eyes, pure perverse thoughts barely hidden behind them.

─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY whose rough hands stay glued to your head when you tug down on the band of his sweats. you pull out his almost hard cock and you press it right against your cheek, pretty long lashes batting at him, “i’ll miss having your cock down my throat s’much. i’ll be so bored, leon- can you imagine leaving me alone like this?”

you gather enough spit inside your mouth to drool messy all over it and you open it wide, sticking out your tongue and parting your soft, wet lips for him. leon slaps the tip of his cock twice down your tongue and your lips lock tightly around it.

“what a shame, huh? can’t believe i’m leavin’ you all alone.”

you ease your mouth to his size and you don’t use your hands just yet — you swirl your tongue around his cock play with it in your mouth, to one side of your gummy cheeks to the other, teasing, giving leon a taste of how warm and good his cock fits in you.

leon grunts and his grip on your head tightens, instinctively pulling you closer to his crotch and you take more and more of his length. you can feel the tip slowly starting to push down your throat, but leon pulls away immediately.

you let your mouth rest, using your hand pushing down the saliva down the length and stroking it— his veins pulse and his girth hardens the more you grip it; you lean down and catch his balls to fill up your mouth. still stroking, you suck on them and ooze wet drool, drenching them in your saliva. the sensation of your tongue around them makes leon melts entirely, forcing his eyes to stay open and head tilt back, his right leg shaking in pleasure.

“f-fuck me. you really wanna make me stay, doll.”

then, your focus shifts back to leon’s cock, dragging your tongue down its length, gradually letting in sink down your throat and filling up your mouth entirely. the taste of salty precum stays on your tongue and the slight lack of air makes you dizzy. you let him take control, pushing your head and pleasures himself and you use your hand to palm his balls while he makes sure to give your mouth a proper fucking before he leaves— leon makes sure to never exaggerate and he’d rather to let you have your fun and tease, rather than using you, though.

─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who locks his muscular arms around your waist when he quickly pulls you in his lap, like a starved, desperate man who hasn’t fucked in months; it’s been barely around ten or twelve hours since he’s last felt the walls of your pussy grip around his hard girth.

and yet, leon wants to feel your cunt squeeze around him and swallow his cock whole, right up to your cervix again— he wants to let his cum spill white inside you and not down your throat, not dripping in the corners of your mouth and sleek over your lips. watching it overflow out through your swollen entrance makes leon’s cock twitch even more, especially when you beg him to not pull out.

leon almost rips the shirt off you in his attempt to yank your boobs out and he takes one in his mouth, grunts muffled while his lips fixate on your perky nipple. you rock you hips in rythm with the bounce of his thighs— your head tilted back and mouth ajar, arms thrown around leon’s broad shoulders. long nails dig into his strong naked back and you moan his name on repeat like a stupid broken record.

“gonna miss these gorgeous tits. mmm, fuck me- gonna be so late if you keep messin’ with me like this, sweet girl.”

─── older boyfriend .ᐟ LEON KENNEDY who cups your face with one hand while the other draws circles around your puffy little clit, “i’m not leavin’ until i feel you come on my cock.”

“stay- please, mmm, leon, j-just stay- need you to fuck me so bad all the time!”

he takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss on each of your knuckles, cock still streching out the walls of your pussy, so drenched wetness pools down sticky your thighs when he comes heavy inside you.

“be a good little angel and stay out of trouble, yeah? i’ll get you a nice purse to match with the porsche.”

“c-can’t promise anything.” you moan, every inch of you body vibrating with orgasmic pleasure.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.”

RESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST .ᐟ < 3

hiya, thanks for reading !! <3 i’m super thankful for the amount of notes i’ve got on my two other leon fics! interactions/reblogs are always very very appreciated 💋 muah !

next i’m writing about sitting on leon’s face and him being insanely obsessed with eating you out and being pussy drunk etc etc !!

[dollyivy]

mega flop i might repost !

[leonssuccubus]

⌞ think i need someone older ⸝⸝ leon k. ⌝

warnings: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓! ⋆ professor!leon ⋆ raw 𖬺𖬺 older ⋆ pure filth ⋆ age gap ⋆ riding him in his chair + railing you on his desk ⋆ leon is kinda mean ⋆ semi-public sex ⋆ bigdick!leon ⋆ pet names ⋆ dumbification ⋆ praise + more. «𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝»

word count: 𝟏.𝟑 𝐤

author’s note: hiii this is my first time writing for leon so idk if this is any good but i’ve recently gotten back into re after requiem came out and since i became a writer like a year and a half ago i decided to make a resident evil (leon biased) blog^^ i don’t know how active i’ll be here but please send in smut fic ideas!! i was gonna make this longer but felt like it was gonna take too long so i cut it short at the end.

keep in mind: english is not my first language!

summary: getting private lessons from your favorite professor because you’re failing his classes on purpose.

ⓘ credit to professor!leon goes to the individual who created him first!! 𖬺𖬺 leon is 49 in this ’cause this takes place in the present :)

Leon sighs heavily as he watches you bat your lashes at him, seated across from him in his office. He’d called you in here to discuss how much your performance in class has plummeted lately.

“Mr. Kennedy, I just think...” You trail off, smiling as you lean slightly closer to the desk, your voice becoming more low and sultry. “You should give me a more hands-on lesson.” Your eyes trail over his features, watching his expression shift slightly. “I’m more of a visual learner, you know?”

“Haahh... Visual learner?” He lets out a small, short laugh that sounds more like a deep exhale, looking amused and frustrated all at once. “Right. Let’s say you are—And how do you expect me to give you a visual demonstration of advanced calculus, sweetheart?”

The way he said the endearment, with the slightest hint of sarcasm, has you shifting in your seat, a heat beginning to burn deep in your core. Like it always does when you interact with him. Which is probably why you haven’t been paying much attention to the subject at hand.

And God, he’s so sexy without even trying.

His glasses lay on the desk beside his laptop, his collar opened and tie loosened, his hair slightly messier than usual like he’d been running his fingers through it all day. He looks tired; The kind of tired that makes you want to pamper him and take care of his needs.

Your eyes trail down to his hands, resting by his laptop, no ring in sight. He’s not married, never has been, and he says he’s too busy with his responsibilities as a college professor to really date seriously, let alone marry, whenever someone asks.

But the fact that he’s single at 49—despite being so good looking—baffles you. Women throw themselves at him, discreetly or not. You’ve seen it first-hand, how the professors, old and young, flirt with him. And you’ve seen how he doesn’t really encourage it.

Even so, you won’t give up.

“But, prof, I can memorize it all if you just help me focus...” You try to reason with him, batting your lashes, smiling flirtatiously. And it seems to be working in your favor, judging by the way his jaw muscles flex beneath his skin, looking more worked up than you’d ever seen him.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s just the two of you alone in his office, the door closed, the glow of the setting sun draping the space between you in warmth and setting an intimate mood. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s done pretending like you don’t get under his skin—like you don’t make him feel things he was so sure he wouldn’t feel again.

And somehow, he finally agrees to your dumb proposal that could cost him his job and reputation if he gets caught in the middle of it.

But the thrill of it sparks something feral within him.

Your breath hitches as you bounce on your professor’s dick, long and meaty, with prominent veins you swear you can feel whenever you slow down just enough. Leon’s hands on your hips keeps you from stopping fully, though, making sure you’re still riding him as you try to give the correct answer to his questions.

But it feels impossible to speak, let alone think.

He’s so big and going so deep that your poor mind is completely blank, unable to remember how to solve the easiest problems. It’s like you’ve gone dumb. And Leon? He seems to be enjoying it thoroughly despite his otherwise stoic face, his strict expression broken only by the hint of pleasure etched onto it.

“Can’t even solve an easy fucking problem,” he mocks as he pulls your hips down, watching your lips part as a desperate, choked moan claws out of your throat. “And you said you were a "visual learner who needed a hands-on kinda lesson"... Where’s that now, huh?”

You try to speak, but all that comes out are a few pleas bleeding into moans and whimpers as you grip onto his shoulders, unable to even look at him. Humiliation burns through you, making your face feel like it’s on fire, but what can you even say? It’s true that you’ve gone completely stupid.

The position you both are in—you straddling his lap, facing him—makes you feel too exposed. He can see every shift in your expression, every roll of your eyes, every time your breath hitches deep in your chest, and every time your bottom lip gets stuck between your teeth in a poor attempt to muffle your sounds.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice all low and gruff as he bounces you on his lap, his biceps and forearms bulging intimidatingly. His eyes narrow slightly when you lock eyes with him for what felt like a millisecond before looking away, your pussy squeezing him tighter from the sight of him.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “you said you can do this, so look at me.”

You bite back a whimper as you look into his eyes again, your inner walls clenching around him so tightly it makes him hiss, his hips stuttering against yours. The eye contact is too much. It feels like he’s looking right into you, making this feel so much more intense.

“Thaat’s right... Good girl,” Leon murmurs, a faint smirk tugging at the ends of his lips, as his grip on your hips grow tighter, fingers digging into your flesh. And before you can even catch your breath, you feel him shift in his seat before thrusting up into your sharply.

Your whole body jolts as white-hot pleasure shoots through your nerves, making you gasp and moan, eyes wide, jaw slack. “P-prof--” You gasp, clinging to him as he wraps his arms around your waist, hips smacking against yours with wet smacks that seem to echo in the now dark space of his office.

You definitely didn’t expect this.

Your moans are right beside his ear, so desperate, and you try to silence them by biting your lips—but obviously, that doesn’t do much. Your muffled moans sends shivers down his spine, making him groan, his arms tightening around you. He needs to see you. But the darkness doesn’t allow him.

Leon slows down slightly, panting softly as he reaches for the switch of the desk lamp he has on one edge of the desk in front of you two. The lamp gives a dim glow to the entire room, making it more intimate but also letting him see you.

“Hold on,” he commands softly, but doesn’t wait for you to comply before he’s lifting you up with him without even pulling out. You barely have any time to react before you feel the hard surface of his desk beneath you, your legs being set onto his shoulders, the position letting him sink deeper.

Leon can finally see your expression clearly—and he almost loses it at the sight of you so undone, his cock throbbing inside your warmth. His lips part as he watches your chest heave, your brows knitted together. Then, his eyes trail down, to where he can see your puffy cunt stretched around his thickness.

“Look at you...” He breathes out, as he pulls back slowly before pushing back in again, letting you feel every ridge and vein—every thick inch. He watches your eyes roll back when he shifts his hips while pushing inside, hitting a spot that makes your brain short-circuit with pleasure.

And, as the mean man he is, he speeds up, making sure to hit that spongy spot inside you. Your noises of pleasure only fuels his desire to fuck you harder. He doesn’t even care if you’re being too loud, it’s not like he cared in the first place, anyway.

Neither you or Leon even remember why this all started in the first place, pleasure clouding both of your minds. All Leon wants right now is to see you fall apart on his dick, and hear those sweet sounds you’re unable to stop making.

God, he’s—completely and utterly—fucked.

© 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬

[solemnsteel]

hey he’s actually the prettiest boy ive ever seen and i need to make him my wife

[navluvr]

the attractive things ser duncan the tall does (18+)

protectively cages you against the joust's railing, his hands resting on either side of you. as a way to avoid other people touching you, duncan places himself between you and the rest of the crowd (rip the person's view behind him lol). his knuckles stay on the railing, his warmth radiating off his chest as he stands behind you. he also gets the perk of enjoying the pleasant scent of your hair that clouds his senses when he's this close.

he's always manhandling you. even innocently, dunk is absentmindedly moving you around. whether it's helping you off your horse, swiftly pulling you out of the way of a bustling wagon passing by, or tugging and lifting your hips closer to his face while he eats you out, he's always displaying his strength through affection. dunk adores the way your eyes go a bit wide with astonishment every time he treats you as if you weigh nothing (because to him, you do). he also might have caught you ogling his muscles once and now enjoys showing off every once in awhile ;)

constantly watches over you (and egg). he has to know where you and his squire are at all times. it eases his conscience to have eyes on you both, to know that you're merely an arms length away should something pop up. also prefers to watch over you so he knows when he needs to make his presence recognized if a man decides to approach you—he can be quite a jealous man, though he would never admit it aloud. moreover, when back at camp, a lot of his time is spent admiring you. he thinks you make the most mundane things look attractive.

is incredibly protective and possessive. as mentioned before, he gets jealous sometimes, though he does his best to subdue it (he knows it's insecurity-based emotions). however, sometimes it does slip into his actions. one minute you're alone, a man trying to encourage you give him one dance, and the next dunk is at your shoulder, quiet but aware that his riveting presence will scare the lesser man away. he hates when other men even glance your way, their greedy desires reflecting in their eyes.

what's his is yours. dunk does not mind sharing. he considers it a privilege to even have people to share with, therefore he will give you whatever you're eyeing that's 'his.' plus he loves the way you look in his clothes (it spurs his size kink mhm). and although you might not wear them outside of camp, it still gives dunk that satisfaction of should someone approach, they'll know you're his.

makes you finish at least twice before he even thinks about his own release. first of all, he's one hell of a giver. second, he understands that you need to be wet when you take his length in order for you to not feel as though you're completely splitting in two. this man can literally just finish by watching his partner come i don't make the rules

praises and talks you through it. and this goes for anything and everything. easing you through multiple orgasms? "one more, pretty girl, jus' give me one more." teaching you how to wield a weapon or basic self-defense? "good girl. again." now he may be dense, but not so dense that he misses the way your gaze shies from his at the praise, cheeks growing warm or the way your cunt clenches around his fingers/cock the second the sweet words leave his mouth.

note please take this while i procrastinate writing a critical analysis on frankenstein for my lit criticism & analysis class sighhhh

[nlnny]

Guys, what did i say? THE SEVEN KINGDOMS ARE GRIEVING, STOP SERVING CUNT!!!! Your father killed your uncle and you out there serving cunt???? shame.

[abbysbenchpr]

drunk! perv! dunk. let me say it again. DRUNK.. PERV.. dunk.. the possibilities r endless. does he cum fast? does he fall asleep eating it? does dunk fuck you until HE’S overstimulated and basically crushing you? put me in his world and im putting medieval contraceptives to work, or im just locking it down and having his fat stupid babies

babe omfg YOUR MIND ???? i kid u not this ask actually drove my ass to open a google docs file

LOOK AT HIMMMM im getting him pregnant!!

thank you so much for these delicious thoughts anon, i’ll write a whole thing bc this food is too fucking good but walk with me for now

18+ minors dni

drunk!perv!duncan the tall

content: slight intoxication, leg humping (yay!)

imagining a swaying dunk being dropped off at your tent, already through the worst of it, but he still goes moony-eyed at the sight of you.

you take him from lyonel, who leaves you with a grin like he knows something you don’t (dunk spent the whole night rambling into his mug, in great detail, about the filthy dreams he’s been having of you and how badly he wishes it was real).

dunk is touchier when he’s drunk, shoving his clammy face into the crook of your neck when you lead him into your tent. doesn’t even hide how he’s inhaling the scent of you with open-mouthed huffs.

whines when you plop him down on his bedroll, clutching at your leg when you try to go get him something to drink. dunk presses his forehead to your belly, arms locked around you to keep you from leaving.

you know he’ll have a shit time of it tomorrow if he doesn’t sober up soon, but you like being trapped in dunk’s strong, brutish grip a little too much to do anything about it.

your hand buries in those sandy blond strands, scratching at his scalp while you try to figure out how to reach the waterskins.

dunk groans, loud and wet, and you watch with your jaw slack as he ruts his hips against your lower leg. one slow, firm drag that has his shoulders curling in and his broad back bowing.

“fuckkk,” dunk slurs, hooking a thick arm around the back of your thigh, moving you to his liking for a better angle to grind his cock.

your breath stays lodged in your chest, burning you from the inside out when he starts humping your leg in earnest, setting a sloppy, jagged rhythm that has him moaning wantonly into your dress.

“dunk–?” your voice cracks, pitched up in surprised — that he’s using your body for his own pleasure, and that you’re wetter than you’ve ever been watching your hedge knight reduced to the pathetic mess at your feet.

“want you s’bad,” dunk whines, spit pooling at the corner of his lips. he drags those glossy blue eyes up to meet yours, and thrusts even harder at the sight of your face.

“want t’fuck you,” he confesses, pressing himself deeper into the folds of your dress, like if he tries hard enough he can find his way inside. “think about you all the time– i wan’ you crying on my cock. want to know how you taste, m’lady.”

you file away his confessions for later, content to let him use you to his own end.

“bet you’d be sweet,” he grunts, eyes fluttering as he buries his face to your lower body, as close as he can get to what he wants. “–taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

your hands press harder into his head, digging your nails in until he whimpers. the sound goes straight to your core, fluttering and painfully empty.

“does that feel good, hm?” you coo, stroking the back of his head to soothe the sting. “you look so handsome like this, dunk.”

you can feel the heat of him leaking — he’s rucked up your skirts with greedy hands, only so he can soak your soft skin with the wet patch blooming on his trousers.

dunk pants open-mouthed, nodding with desperate jerks of his head. choked out grunts escape his glistening lips and that grip on your thigh is sure to leave a bruise, but none of that matters when he’s spilling into his trousers with a broken whine, cursing and shuddering through the syllables of your name.

all the while, you soothe him through it, distantly wondering how long it’d take him to get going again if you keep calling him pretty.

he’s easier to manoeuvre in his post-orgasmic haze. sits down where you tell him to, cleans himself up and waits obediently while you fetch the waterskin.

though when you hold it out for him to take, he stubbornly refuses to drink, turning his head from the mouth. he’ll dodge and protest, until your hand comes up to hold his head still, fingers gripping his jaw as you tilt the opening against his lips.

only then will he drink, sharp gaze never leaving yours. his blue eyes are clear — so clear you begin to wonder how drunk he’d really been at all.

[beljude]

[jacaerysdoe]

𐕣… there’s not enough oc x cc asoiaf fics on here i need to contribute to the cause (i literally have seven original houses)

[beljude]

[lacyydollette]

INTRODUCING . . HOCKEY!PLAYER!RAFE X FIGURE!SKATER!READER

“ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍 𝐅’𝐌𝐄 ” sensitive gentle giant at heart. has a gallery full of your photos. backwards hats. team captain. most touch deprived person when it comes to you. neck kisses all over him. golden retriever in human form. fucks strictly to pnd. likes his circle small. a ref’s worst nightmare.

“ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 ” ice princess. resting bitch face and a graceful posture. secret cuddler at heart. tight slick backs. multilingual so she could curse rafe in every language. biggest animal lover eva ! her skates are the most precious. flirty drunk. early lake rink sessions.

HOCKEY!PLAYER!RAFE X FIGURE!SKATER!READER who meet again during junior year of college when figure!skater!reader is in a rush to get some practice in at the rink, while rafe, who’s there for detention, also needs to practice, supervised by his coach from the office window. she barges into the arena, and all rafe sees from behind is a really hot chick, her hands full with keys, coffee, water bottle, skates all juggled in both, a bag hanging off one arm, and a scowl on her pretty face as she turns around and starts lacing up her skates. she still hasn’t noticed him. rafe’s first impression is that he wants to bang her, but one dirty look from her has him realizing he’s a little intimidated—and shit he recognizes that look— months ago. a quick fuck in the bathroom, both of them drunk out of their minds. her glare deepens as she stares at him, realizing he’s the cameron who had the audacity, in true stupid man fashion, to fuck her for her first time in a party bathroom and never check on her afterward. the truth is she was naive, had just transferred and was drunk, wasn’t expecting him to remember, and she never told him it was her first time, but she was still mad the next morning nevertheless when her best friend told her that he was the one she left with that night.

HOCKEY!PLAYER!RAFE X FIGURE!SKATER!READER who are both forced to practice early mornings when the rink is empty, rafe for detention obviously because he missed another practice due to being hangover as fuck, and her because she got into another fight after one of her best friends got dropped onto the ice by her partner and she immediately went and broke his nose the moment the words “she was too heavy” left the pussy’s mouth, and now she “needs some cooling off” (her coach’s words). after the first day she immediately went to request a change in her practice schedule, but that was immediately denied due to the rink being full almost all day. figure!skater!reader who tries her best to be tame towards rafe but fails because one thing about the asshat is that he sees the girl he wants another chance with, so he does what he does best: pokes the bear. he’ll casually block her path mid-lap, joking when she stumbles toward him a little, “careful, wouldn’t want to wipe out.” she‘ll snap back with a “chase after your puck and outta my way.”

HOCKEY!PLAYER!RAFE X FIGURE!SKATER!READER who go at it constantly. it’s not just that rafe left a bad impression on her, it’s also that she hates sharing space—especially with someone who doesn’t hold back when it comes to flirting with her, annoying her, and sincerely making a fool out of himself. to rafe, it’s playground logic: pull the pretty girl’s pigtails to get her attention. for example, they’ve made a line on the ice—both sides are clear—but at some point when he gets bored (which is all the time), he’ll casually stroll onto her side after she’s shoved him off for the fifth time. “you always this territorial?” “only with pests.” he fucking loves it. or he’ll follow her around, beaming, saying, “i’m bored over there.” she’ll breathe in and out three times, trying to talk herself out of giving him a real concussion, and snipe, “that sounds like a you problem,” before continuing her lutzes, trying to ignore his existence.

HOCKEY!PLAYER!RAFE X FIGURE!SKATER!READER who continues this dance for weeks before rafe grows the balls to show up with some really pretty flowers as the perfect excuse since valentine’s is coming up, asking for one single date to prove himself worthy of her. he might sound all cocky, but he had a 40-minute motivational lecture about this from his team in the locker room. they agreed he should give it a shot; it’s either he gets his head bashed in or he gets himself a date for valentine’s. she looks him up and down with a glare, debating it. she accepts, but not before making him wait and sit in awkward silence for an uncomfortably long time, just because she can. when the day finally comes, she puts aside all the nervousness and puts on her big girl pants trying to ignore the effect he has on her, and he shows up being the perfect gentleman, nothing like the first time. he doesn’t cross any boundaries, and she actually enjoys his company, which leads to a second date and a third and then lots more after that.

HOCKEY!PLAYER!RAFE X FIGURE!SKATER!READER who are the it couple on the ice. where rafe thrives on proving to his girl that he’ll never ever put her in a shitty position like having her first time in a bathroom ever again. to this day, after 249 days, 23 hours, and 2 seconds of dating, he rarely drinks when they go to parties together because he doesn’t want a single moment of them together to be blurry. he’s a total sap. and same goes for figure!skater!reader—once she realizes he’s the man for her, she wholly gives herself to him, to the point of sharing her rink with him during practice and letting him sneak kisses between runs (which is huge for her). they’re each other’s biggest supporters; if they’re not on the ice during games and competitions, they’re always in the audience for each other.

angel ( 🗯️ ) had this little idea for months finally put it all down in words. also i apologize if this is a little long bare with it🫰🏻🥹

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘𝐘𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 — est. 2026 © do not copy or claim my work anywhere.

[honeyncherry]

oh this eats 😋😋 i adore it already

[beljude]

[witchlingcirce]

Actually the funniest bts photo ever

[uglylittlelamb]

witchy wonders ⋮ daryl x fem reader hcs

⤳ in which reader is daryl’s witchy gf. daryl is a nonbeliever… until he’s not?

⤳ themes: witchcraft, romance, spirituality, atheism, love spells, magical sex ;)

⤳ a/n: i ended up doing hcs because i struggled to write an entire fic for this prompt. lmk if you want more witch!reader content though!

req by anon ⋮ daryl’s sacrifices

⚝ daryl thinks you’re annoying at first—puts you in the same boat as praying christians. he’s irritated by your spirituality and thinks it’s all bullshit.

⚝ fast-forward a bit, he’s starting to find you prettier than before. really annoying. you’ll catch him watching you sometimes, eyeing whatever you’re doing. he takes a chance and asks what you’re doing—“manifesting.” ah. whatever that means.

⚝ “so, do you believe in god?” he’d ask. you answer, “i believe in mother nature.” daryl doesn’t get it.

⚝ everyone thought daryl’s hair was a mess, until they saw yours. wild, free, long and untamed. you never cut it, let it grow, let the wind carry it. daryl was starting to like it too much.

⚝ daryl hated all the candles you’d light, until he saw you in candlelight, getting lost in your eyes as you explained what different colors of candles meant. he knew white meant purity, red meant… passion, or something. blah blah blah… look at those lips.

⚝ daryl finding crystals while on supply runs. he’d bring them back for you with an awkward hand like, “brought ya rocks.” and yeah, it means a lot coming from him.

⚝ okay, now you’re getting a little mischievous. but it’s manifestation, right? a little love spell never hurt anyone. it took a bit, but eventually he was drawn to your scent, always making comments about how you smelled good. he’d hover around you more, ask what you were up to, if you wanted to walk with him.

⚝ oh, and then there’s the dreams. daryl starts dreaming of you routinely. you’re constantly in his head, and he can’t get you out. at first you make a small appearance here and there—soon, he’s waking up hard. it’s driving him crazy.

⚝ one thing leads to another, and you end up in bed with him. daryl swears he was possessed that night, some dark spirit you conjured or whatever. you snorted at that. god, he was cute.

⚝ daryl now shudders whenever you say certain words, pavlov’d to get aroused by your pretty voice.

⚝ one day, you gift him a charm bag. he’s lost, eyebrows furrowed as he rolls it in his palm. “for protection,” you explained. “you keep it with you.” daryl was convinced you’d cursed him or some bullshit.

⚝ daryl caught you practicing divination once—he seriously debated telling rick you’d lost your mind. the way you used the pendulum—he should’ve left you alone, but he couldn’t help watching your parted lips, soft hands.

⚝ going on walks with daryl, where he points at random shit asking “does that also have a soul?” you roll your eyes so much you’re sure they’ll get stuck like that.

⚝ “you know i love you, right?” you purr. daryl responds, holding you close. “won’t let me forget it. even in my sleep.”

⚝ your little garden in the backyard!!!! he loves watching you water your plants, picking what you need for your daily rituals.

buy me coffee? | content divs by @amorgasmic

[bbiest-deactivated20260218]

rafe who loves to undress you ♡

warnings : controlling!rafe, mention of smacking, manhandling, cnc, power imbalance, implied stay at home reader, voyeurism, content unsuitable for minors

rafe had always been peevish when it came to sharing. when he was little, he’d throw horrible tantrums if anyone but him even put their hands on any of his favourite toys and it’s the same now. only, instead of mini cars or building blocks, his new favourite toy is you.

it’s endearing at first, intimate and even seemingly sweet. it establishes a new routine between the two of you. it being his infatuation with undressing you. it’s an easy entrance for his familiar hands to wonder as he unclips your bra or unzips your skirt and initially, that’s all you think it is, an excuse to paw at the smooth skin of your legs or the globes of your ass.

but it doesn’t just stop there, with a cheap grab of flesh or an immature smack. slowly but certainly, rafe makes it mandatory.

it’s late in the evening when he comes home one day, the clock creeping towards midnight when you finally hear the usual clamour that announced his arrival home. a small grunt, the tiny racket he always makes by kicking his shoes off carelessly and throwing his keys haphazardly into an aimless direction before lastly, his footsteps on the stairs growing louder and nearer.

“ ‘m sorry i’m late, baby. “

rafe grumbles almost incoherently, his eyes not yet greeting you as he occupies himself with shrugging his blazer off like it had been weighing on him all day. you only hum in response and flip a page in the book that you’re not truly reading.

and then it happens, he turns. his eyes, worn and wrinkled by the day, finally brush over you and a frown takes over his already fatigued face. with furrowed eyebrows and a consuming scowl, he gestures towards you like you’d committed treason towards the kook king himself. you look up from the book, bewildered by his motion and sit up as if to present yourself properly. still unsure what rafe was after, you smooth over your nightgown before once again looking towards him with confusion. “ did i— “ you begin but you’re hastily interrupted.

“ couldn’t’ve jus waited a few hours for me? “

before you can reply or even try to make sense of what he’s asking, he pulls you from under the comfort of the covers by your wrist. it’s only then when you at last understand. he hadn’t gotten to undress you himself like usual.

under his gaze, you’re suddenly regretting your choice of nightgown, goosebumps appearing on every inch of the skin his eyes traced. you sheepishly tuck your hands behind your back like a child anticipating punishment, the movement making him laugh cruelly as he sits on a chair conveniently facing you perfectly. once again, he gestures towards your form as if commanding an orchestra.

after a few short seconds filled with uneasy stillness, you nervously begin to strip. the chill air hits your shoulders and then the cleavage your bra offers as you slip out of the thin nightgown. you’re hesitant whether to continue when you’re left in just your underwear but his eyes don’t leave you, neither does the disappointment, and so you continue until your left bare and utterly embarrassed. a pink matching the undergarments now discarded on the floor reaches your cheeks, eventually flushing your whole face as rafe sits motionlessly in front of you.

without a word, he stands from the chair and pushes you back onto the mattress, his form overpowering yours with ease. you only look up at him with twinkling eyes, mesmerised by his hands unbuckling his belt.

[dolliesilk]

NEW GIRL IN TOWN!

when frat!rafe meets pogue!reader... contents: frat rafe, college setting, drug usage, drinking, mutual pining, language wc: 1.0k

it was an ordinary night at kildare university's infamous frat house. bass-boosted trap music blaring through the mansion. drunk college students throwing back shots and jungle juice from solo cups. cheers come from eager patrons watching an intense game of ping pong.

rafe cameron, the president of the sigma chi fraternity, was currently winning against his opponent. the striped polo-clad man wore a serious expression that wouldn't falter until the game ended.

well, that was until you, in all your glory, walked by. his breath catches in his throat when you pass the table, and he immediately looks over his shoulder to watch you leave. your gourmand-scented perfume lingers, standing out among the thick alcohol scent wafting around the mansion. the blond is instantly mesmerized and utterly lovestruck.

with you struggling to squeeze through the crowd of party-goers, rafe took that as an opportunity to take in your appearance. a simple baby-pink tank top with bedazzled text across the front, dark-washed denim shorts too short, and white flip-flops.

his ears drowned out the commotion around him. he couldn't hear anything but the rapid beating of his heart until his friend topper shook him out of it.

"the fuck are you doing, man? finish the game," he shouted over the music.

handing the ping pong ball to his friend, rafe tells him, "nah i'm done, take over for me."

when rafe looked over again, you were gone, and all he could think about was how gorgeous you were and how he needed to find you again.

luckily enough for him, he was able to find you in the kitchen. you were pouring yourself a drink, simultaneously scrolling through social media.

"you new around here?" he asked, leaning against the marbled island.

you nodded slowly, eyeing him suspiciously. you were a transfer student on a scholarship due to your grades. you weren't at the party to mingle with others, only there after being forced to go with your 'friends' who long drifted away from you.

"what do you want?" you questioned, sensing an ulterior motive.

despite your cold voice and demeanor, you were a beacon of light to rafe. the way your eyes gleamed when the warm kitchen lighting hit them, or how you hid your smile when rafe made you laugh.

"m'serious, i wanna see you again," rafe gently held your arm as you're about to leave. you looked into his eyes, searching for a hint of uncertainty.

before you left, you looked over your shoulder as you told him, "i'll think about it."

you did think about it, which led to you and rafe seeing each other outside of the party. him taking you to your classes and waiting outside them before they ended. dinner dates off campus to restaurants that you'd never been to before. sometimes he even slept over at your dorm.

people around whispered and watched. seeing how obsessed the kook king was with a pogue girl. rafe was so entranced with you that he didn't notice until he remembered his friend's existence.

rafe, topper, and kelce were all chilling on tanney hill's patio. the three of them passed a lit joint. topper broke the comfortable silence by asking rafe, "you date pogue girls now?"

rafe's face deadpanned, "pogue?"

topper snorted, "yeah, you didn't know?"

kelce chimed in, "her dad works with pope's dad, and people said they couldn't afford the school on the mainland, so she got a scholarship at our school."

rafe hums, leaning back in his chair, "nah i didn't know that."

you were a pogue; and one thing about rafe cameron was that he wasn't going to be seen around a pogue.

rafe soon began distancing himself from you, practically going ghost on you. everything came to a stop: the texts, late-night calls, walks to class, and dates. he began going to parties again, like who he was before you, almost.

from a young age, appearances were important to uphold, and dating a pogue would tarnish that. kook's hung out with other kooks, and the same for pogues.

still, you made yourself at home in his mind. your voice echoed in his head in the quiet, and images of your face were imprinted behind his eyelids at night.

then there was you, dejected and forced to move on. you missed holding his hand while the two of you talked and walked around the campus courtyard. he was soft with you; the loud, obnoxious frat boy persona disappeared when he was with you. yet you should've known guys like him would never stay long.

it was safe to say your relationship was over when you saw him at a party with another girl. a kook girl. perfectly styled hair, expensive clothes, and bubbly. perfectly manicured hands landing on rafe's chest when she laughed. the complete opposite of you.

rafe felt wrong, being with another girl that wasn't you, left a bad taste in his mouth. the rebound tactic always worked for him before, so why wasn't it doing the same now? why did he wish to hear your laugh? to have your hand resting on his shoulder? why could he only think about you?

his questions were answered when he saw you. he just lost the love of his life, stupidly too. he froze with guilt when he saw the heartbreak written over your face.

he immediately parted from the girl, chasing after you. he could fix this, and if rafe cameron was going to do anything, he was going to fix a problem.

he found you in one of the guest bedrooms. rafe's heart thumped against his chest harder than the bass coming from downstairs.

you felt his presence before you saw him. "save it, rafe."

"i love you," you looked at him at that. "and i'm sorry for everything. i shouldn't have let you go."

"yeah, you shouldn't have, but i understand why, so don't worry about it," you sigh shakily. "you don't need a pogue holding you back."

he crossed the room, crouching in front of you. he gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. "don't say that, i need you, alright?"

you nodded as rafe placed a kiss on your temple, finding embrace in his comfort again.