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@sequoiamf
reblog page (not tagged) … lazy
multi fandom // pretty much anything
nsfw | 18+ | minors dni | some dark content
not my pictures (from pinterest)
dividers from dollywons on tumblr @sequoiamf 2026

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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for @dirtygir1 ♡
you’re standing in his doorway, trying to stop pope from leaving to go on his first job back with his brothers, wearing his favorite panties of yours, his favorite bra. “andy—c’mon just a quickie, they won’t notice!”
he walks up, looking down at you over his nose, huffing as he tries to move you. you trip a little, twisting to wrap your arms around his neck. “please—you’ve been gone so long, baby. i miss you.” you run your fingers over his scalp, watching him debate this in his head.
“fine. only if you shut up about it—n make it quick. this is my first job back.”
you squeal. bouncing on your toes as you take his hand, guiding him towards the bed, having him sit against the headboard in his camo pants, army green top. fuck, he looks so good. veins on display and all.
you sit down on his lap, lifting up his green shirt, running your hands along his abdomen before fiddling with the button of his pants, dragging his zipper down to take out his hard cock. you start to pump him, relishing in the way he feels—so hard and so soft, before he’s grunting, “quit playing with it.”
you roll your eyes, “so strict—they won’t leave without you,” n you lift up as pope helps you, taking his finger to pull your panties to the side as you sink down on his cock, moaning and arching your back at the feeling. you’re still not used to his size with him being back, didn’t forget how big he was, just need time to adjust.
once he’s bottomed out, pope guides you by your hips, up and down slowly, gritting his teeth as you’re moaning like a fucking porn star above him. “fuck, andrew! so big—oh my god, oh my god!”
it feels animalistic the way you fuck him—scratching him through his army green shirt, biting on his ear, throwing your head back, hands to your tits to play with your nipples—pope loves it, loves watching the way your pussy swallows his cock, fabric of his pants chafing your thighs.
you’re lost in each other, don’t even hear it when deran bangs on the door, yelling for pope to come out, “quit fucking! we’ve gotta go!” when pope finishes inside you, poor boy scrambles to get up n button his pants—not wanting to miss this job as you’re giggling on the bed.
hiii bunnyyyy🤍 don’t know if this is nasty enough for ya but! pope pussy slapping you because you’re getting too loud while at Smurfs place :(you told him you’d be good but he’s just so thick and it’s so deep from the back. “all you needed to do was just shut the fuck up” he huffs into your ear “but you just can’t listen can you?” he raises his hand for every time he’s had to repeat himself but this only gives you more incentive for misbehaving
this is beautiful ♡ love me some rough pope
18+ minors do not interact !!!
pope's got you on your back, fucking you with your legs over his shoulders, his grip on your ankles. he's so focused on the way his cock slides in and out of you, your cum making a creamy ring around the base of his cock. fuck--you're so hot. n it feels so good, you can't help yourself when your back is arching off the bed, moaning so loud the neighbors can probably hear. everybody is home, and while pope doesn't really give a fuck, he doesn't want everyone to hear his girl in this vulnerable state.
you're so fucked out, practically crying with how good his cock feels, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you--when you feel a sting on your clit, watching pope slap you, grunting, "shut up. you want everyone to hear you?"
your back bows, a gasp escaping your lips that turns into a drawn out moan at the pain, "pope, fuck!" he slaps you again, leaning down to rest his chest against yours, whispering in your ear, "can't listen, can you? too fucked out?" he lifts back up, hips keep pounding into your pussy, driving you towards another orgasm as he brings his hand down again, causing you to squirt all over him.
you're mewling, crying out to him as he watches with wide eyes, nostrils flaring when he sees what a mess you've made. he fucks you slower, leaning back down, cooing in your ear as he moves your hair from your face, being so so tender, "aww, fuck--baby. 'm sorry, you feel good? made a mess on my cock, you liked that? so pretty."
when you both walk out into the kitchen for dinner, pope's got you tucked under his arm, filling up your water to make sure you're hydrated, grabbing you a plate of food as you sit down. you're wearing one of his big t-shirts and boxers, and everyone takes a look at you over their food. pope glares at them, daring them to say a word about what they heard. his little doll. ♡
benjamin “dex” leonard poindexter aka bullseye
times dex whimpers (ben poindexter x reader)
title is self explanatory :)
1. during sex, you had a habit of touching him anywhere you could reach. dex made you feel so so good, you needed ways to release energy before you could come.
one way or another your hands would always end him in his hair, long nails raking his scalp as you softly moaned out his name.
he really tried not to, but anytime he felt your hand brushing strands of hair from his forehead, or rake your fingers through his scalp, he would let out a soft whimper while shutting his eyes from pleasure.
2. for the most part, you and dex never faught. he was your puppy, you didn’t like something he would never do it again, you asked him to do something, you wouldn’t have to tell him twice.
but like all couples, some sort of argument would take place. your hands waved around in the air, aggravated sighs from your soft lips as you tried to get your point across.
meanwhile, dex sat and listened. hands folded, head down but eyes tilted up at you. he felt so good when you yelled at him, like he was worth fighting.
somewhere between cursing and pushing his shoulder, a whimper slips from his lips and then only would he calmly apologize and make you feel heard and understood.
3. he woke up from the ungodly sound of your alarm, you begged for 5 more minutes and he headed for the shower.
while reaching for his pain meds, he felt an odd sensation on his back. somewhere between sore and sharp aches.
he reached for his t-shirt and pulled it off.
turning so his back faces the mirror, he tilted his head and low and behold. he let out a pathetic whine.
light pink scratches littered all over his back. all different lengths and positions. the sigh brought a grin to his face. a boost of confidence filtered over him knowing he brought you so much pleasure, snippets of last night flashing in his eyes.
4. dex was very selfless, even with sexual activities. they always benefited you. so when you decided to suck his dick.
the soft pants of “thank you” couldn’t stop from his mouth as he massaged the nape of your neck. his eyes were shut tight, he couldn’t believe how good you felt.
as he felt himself reach his release, he couldn’t sum up the energy to speak. he was lost in how good you made him feel. dex couldn’t stop the desperate, needy whimper that echoed against the shower walls as you swallowed his release.
5. you didn’t like shopping, you dressed pretty simple and often wore the same pieces styled differently.
so when dex visits your apartment for the first time and sneaks in your closet. the whimper that he tried to suppress eventually came out when he slid a drawer open and found bras and panties of different styles and colors.
fuck, he couldn’t wait to see you in all of them, whether in bed or through your bedroom window.
6. some rare nights, dex was usually alone in bed. you were sometimes too busy to come over or just not in the city.
desperate dex would roll over to your side, take in the scent that you left on the pillow and hump the bed imaging it was you.
he would sob and whimper into the pillow just wishing you would show up.
7. oh he loved your tits, he loved everything about you but holy shit.
when he saw your hardened nipples through t-shirts or just naked in bed, his dick would twitch.
or when you bent infront of him to place a plate or a book, fucking whatever. and he saw your cleavage down your shirt. an incoherent whimper would slip his mouth as he would pull you down to his lap.
8. you complimented dex often, like…he was fucking perfect and you wouldn’t let him forget it.
sleepy after fucking or doing whatever together, your mouth would let loose and you would mumble heaps of stuff.
“god your back is..so broad”
“if you wanted, you could probably choke me with your biceps.
“baby, let me kiss your chin”
“i miss your fingers, dex” you once pouted, drunk as fuck.
every time he would be left speechless, often ending up a whimpering mess in your hold as you kissed down his abs or massaged his big hands in your smaller ones.
he couldn’t believe his luck as your soft body leaned over his whispering things you loved about him in his ear.
———————————————————————————
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a common misunderstanding | benjamin poindexter x reader
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: You come home early to accidently discover something new about your boyfriend.
Author's note: when i saw this gif i was like ohhhh okay i need to open a word doc right this moment! content tags are smut, descriptions of violence and weapons, reader uses she/her pronouns, manipulative bad man!!!! i will tag dubcon for this reason because he manipulates reader but also reader is deranged and matches freak 4 freak, cannon divergence, established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, creampie, no physical description of reader, hardly proofread... thank you for reading i hope you like it
bunny offering herself for dex to practice knots and tying people up on her 🫢 see which positions are the most efficient
curling up on the couch while he’s all in serious mode, brow crinkled as he clicks around on his laptop. you knew he was doing bullseye stuff purely from his demeanour, and you knew you weren’t supposed to interrupt. but, scrolling on pinterest was getting boring — so you strike up conversation.
“dexie?” you chime, dropping your phone and turning your body toward him.
“hm?” he doesn’t look up, continuing to click, click, click.
“when you’re doing your big boy bullseye stuff, do you ever have to tie people up?” you tilt your head curiously and he blinks out of his concentrated trance, observing you for a second before speaking up.
“what?”
“like, when you go to—” you make a dramatic throat slicing action with your hand, followed by another performative rendition of you pretending to throw a knife. you then also played the role of the victim, throwing your hands up and whisper-screaming, pretending to die as you slump against the couch.
“spit it out, kid.”
“do you ever use rope to tie people up? so they don’t escape?” you clarify, clearly excited from the topic. dex scratches his jaw in thought, shrugging a shoulder.
“if i gotta — yeah. why?”
you hop up out your seat, holding up a manicured finger to gesture ‘one sec’ to him, toddling off to your room. he hears a bunch of shuffling and a few things falling before you come skipping back out — a soft pink rope between your hands.
“why don’t you practice on me? you know — to figure out which positions are most efficient for you.” you beam, hopping on one foot to another as you hold the rope in two hands infront of you. dex licks his lips, placing his laptop on the coffee table before taking the rope from you, passing it between his hands.
“‘fuck do you think i do with these guys? tie their legs open n’fuck ’em? i tie their wrists together so they can’t reach for a weapon. sometimes their legs if they try n’run. they’re not hard knots to make, baby.” he goes to hand the rope back as you pout, shaking it in his hand when you don’t take it.
“but… but you could just try new stuff? it could be really helpful? i wanna be helpful.” you sulk, feeling rejected. dex sighs out his nose, a small smile tugging at his older features.
“you just wanna get off, that right?”
“no i don’t.” you huff, stomping your foot. as a reflex, dex grabs your wrist and yanks you into a manoeuvre in less than a second, arched over his lap.
“yeah you wanna stomp that foot at me?” he challenged and you concede, shaking your head with a pout.
“sorry daddy.”
“uh-huh. you want me to tie you up just say that, don’t gotta make up excuses.” you feel him roughly begin to bind your wrists together at the small of your back and you kick your legs happily behind you. “practice.” he scoffs. “just wanna feel like a victim, don’t you?”
bf!dex who looks way too pleased with himself when you get angry enough to hit him.
you two make a very disfunctional couple, that much could be said. you patch him up from knife and bullet wounds more often than you go out on dates, and you're constantly arguing about dex's obsessive, infuriating need to keep everything in your life under his control.
on particularly bad fights, you make him grovel for days.
dex will mostly spend them chasing you around your apartment while you pretend not to notice the hulking mass of a man stalking you around every room, an inevitable presence you couldn't get rid of even if you tried. he says i'm sorry and please talk to me and i'll do anything while you try your best to remain unphased, even if the undeniable lack of remorse in his voice only fills you with even more rage.
one day you turn on your heels and slap him across the face.
his wife ── michael robinavitch michael 'robby' robinavitch x wife!reader.
summary: robby doesnt advertise his marriage. so when his wife shows up at ED to discuss their son, safe to say the residents were shocked. now they wonder how the two of you met. this throws him back to when he was a ms3.
content warnings: reader and robby w/ 2 year age gap. thought to be 22 and robby 24 when met, around when he'd be a MS3. fluff. med school robby. lightly flirty young robby. lil mention of mature content so pls mdni 18+. reader is clinical psychologist/completeting masters to be one. lowkey implied fem reader shorter than robby. im short im sorry. he adores his wife like hard. two kids.
authors notes: lowkey med school au and robby who isn't as emotuonally consipated in the show. lowkey wanna do a few bits here and there about their life but not sure lol. inspired by this meme.
word count: 4079
Everyone was aware of the chain that hung around Robby’s neck. It peeked from under his scrubs sometimes. Though, no one knew what might be on the chain. There might be nothing or there could be something. Either way, it was always tucked under his shirt.
Nobody questioned it, never really thought to. He’s a private person. Residents don’t ask about his personal life. But they get curious when he steps out to the ambulance bay sometimes, phone to ear.
Santos thinks that maybe he’s faking to take a break. Whitaker thinks he might be talking to a relative, parent or sibling. Javadi thinks … Well, she isn’t quite sure what to think. But she doesn’t think its what Santos or Whitaker’s thinking.
So when a gorgeous woman strolled into the department, beelining towards the charge nurse with a smile, they were confused to say the least. You seemed to be friendly and familiar with Dana, greeting each other like old friends.
imagine being bullseye's target for a paid hit. he's so good at inserting yourself into your life, becoming an integral part of it. you're stupidly unsuspecting; he'd feel bad, but quite frankly, he's never seen such a high bounty placed on anyone's head yet, let alone a simple girl like you. it's almost too easy.
until it isn't. until he realises that he genuinely does like you, likes taking you out on dates and seeing you smile. even though you know him as tony, and he's been careful not to let the real him show, it's been slipping out anyway. and all the things he's catalogued in his brain about you under the pretence of knowing his target are things he keeps in mind around you—your coffee order, your morning routine, the temperature you like your shower water at.
he knows you charge your phone in the living room so you don't scroll in the morning, and your preferred way of waking up is when you're curled right into him with your legs tangled together, and when you're at home you skip more than you walk because you don't know what to do with the excess energy you have. and he's taken you on what, twenty dates now? and you call him your boyfriend and he's talked to your mum before—although it has been on the phone—and he has the spare key to your apartment.
he conveniently forgets to "do recon" sometimes, and he is not a man who ever forgets. he keeps on letting his guard down; he likes you too much. it has to be today.
or that's the plan, anyway.
it's a pretty warm day and you're already halfway through a tub of ice cream—or two; you've dumped both flavours in your bowl together and open the door with the spoon still in your mouth.
"hi," you say, but it comes out unintelligible, and he kisses your cheek and his hands slot into place on your hips. your free one traces the contours of his muscles up his side even through the hoodie he's wearing, and he kicks the door closed behind him.
"hi," he whispers back. you put the bowl and spoon down, licking your lips.
"y'miss me?"
"yeah."
then he kisses you for real, shuffling you back towards the wall. your arms loop around his neck, pulling him further into your space, and you taste like strawberry ice cream, a hint of vanilla. the weight of the gun, 3d printed to be untraceable, is devastatingly heavy from where it's tucked into the back of his jeans. just—just five more minutes, let me live this dream, he thinks.
you hum happily into his mouth, fingers brushing through the short hair at the back of his head. he doesn't mean to make a sound, but it happens, and you pull back to laugh at him. you're perfect, don't give him that look, now. you don't even know.
your eyes move to somewhere over his shoulder. "oh, my ice cream's melting."
he turns back, too, glaring at the offending mixture of pink and white. "oh."
you're scarfing it down at amazing speeds, sat beside him on the sofa with his arm 'round your shoulders. you'll get brain freeze if you keep going like this—
"i think i have brain freeze," you announce between mouthfuls of your strawberry-vanilla concoction. there it is.
he takes the bowl from you and finishes what little's left of it; your head's leaned back against the sofa, staring into space as you reconsider life.
"want me to kiss it better?"
you lift your head to stare at him, unamused. "tony, that's not how it works."
"i know that's not how it works," he responds, and his voice has dropped an octave, and you know what he wants, and you laugh.
"okay," you relent. he sets the bowl on the coffee table and you pull him down by the front of his hoodie to kiss him again and he makes the executive decision to not kill you tonight or forever. there's spit and teeth the way he likes it, the way you know he likes it. his knees bracket your thighs, arm braced by your shoulder as the other one tilts your head up; you push him away, back into the cushions, grinning at him with swollen lips already. he bites back a whine when you climb onto his lap, hand straying under the hem of your shorts. you guide his mouth to your neck with one hand, other one busy with god-knows-what (taking off your shirt, he hopes) and he's sure he'll leave bruises on your thighs, but the good kind, born of love and something more, ones only he gets to see, because your life will not end tonight. or anytime soon, if he gets to have a say in things.
the safety of your gun clicks off. you'd hidden it beneath the cushions, waiting for the perfect opportunity—as in right now.
"game's over, poindexter," you're still smiling, but its something sharper, meaner. so very unlike you, a mask fabricated for this very moment.
he draws in a breath, slow, controlled. "oh."
"i know why you came here tonight," you say. "to kill me, right?"
"wasn't gonna."
"no?" you realise with horror that even with your gun pressed up against his head, he's gazing up at you adoringly through his lashes, thumb still rubbing circles idly into your thigh. there's a faint flush on his cheeks. he doesn't seem scared.
"no," he repeats. "gun's under the hoodie. i changed my mind."
you reach behind him, pull it out, toss it to the floor like it burns to touch.
"you have no other weapons on you?"
his eyes flicker downwards, yours follow. then he looks up again, and your cheeks are burning because of what he's just implied. nothing you haven't seen before, of course, but under these circumstances…
"no, baby, i don't."
he looks like he wants to kiss you. and he isn't scared.
things are much, much worse, actually.
he's in love. with you.
a terrifying prospect, really.
(your heart skips a beat. or three.)
"you're my target," you say, more to convince yourself than him. "i'm going to have to shoot you now."
"okay." his voice is steady. he shifts, just a little, and the movement below makes your breath catch in your throat. "do you want me to put my hands up, or is this okay?"
your palms are sweaty, grip faltering. you're trembling. he tilts his head a little, surveying, and you push the barrel further into the side of his head.
"don't be scared," he murmurs. it's intimate, the way he's talking to you, like you're not holding him at gunpoint. "bravest girl i know."
"i'm not scared," you snap, but the gun's not even aimed at his head now; your hold falters. "any last words?"
his hand reaches up to yours, realigns it so it's like you'd originally held it.
"can you kiss me?" it's pathetic—he's pathetic, and he knows it. or maybe he knows you. "i know it was real for you too—"
he thinks he might've died and they accidentally let him into heaven.
or,
you chuck the gun away from you abruptly, scooting forward on his lap. you're not crying, 'cause you don't cry, especially in situations like this, but he swallows the distressed sound you make anyway and kisses you harder, licking into your mouth like a beast that's finally been uncaged. you're apologising with every breath, and a part of him wonders if he should too—
he pauses in place, pulls back just a little to look at you better, and you let out a soft tony, not liking the delay (even though you know it's not his name).
"dex," he corrects gently; you repeat it in the same breathless tone as before. he thinks he's never heard a prettier sound. when he cups your face, you lean into the touch with a sigh.
"i'm sorry," he says. he doesn't say it often, but he really means it when he does. "for everything."
and then a quieter confession. "i love you."
it's not like either of you haven't said it before, but something's changed this time. it's different, more honest in a way, even though you'd meant it every time you said it before.
"i know." it comes out a whisper, and you blink and swallow, hoping you don't end up crying. "me too. i mean—"
"i know," he echoes your words from before, before you lapse into a comfortable silence. it's almost normal for a second. then you sit up straighter, clearing your throat, and begin taking inventory of the situation. "we can't stay here for much longer. they'll know something's wrong."
he glances around, not as urgent as you. "we have time."
"hey," you say suddenly. "did you really get hard from being held at gunpoint?"
instead of responding, he shucks off his hoodie and his hand slips under your shirt, burning against your bare waist. he makes no effort to move it upwards; it just stays there, heavy, a brand on your skin. he looks up at you and grins, needy, wanting, and you get your answer.
hello god it's me gf2page BACK with ANOTHER fic about BENJAMIN POINDEXTER and before you ask YES i hate my life NO i will NOT stop writing. if you like this LMK :] 1.5K WORDS!

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PRETTY IN PINK!— RAFE CAMERON
pairing; rafe cameron x fem!ditzy!reader
summary; rafe refuses to wear the new gift you got him, but no one was surprised when they saw him walk into the country club decked out in his girls favourite color. he'd like to think he wears the pants in the relationship, but his girl always get she wants.
warnings; sappy and cringy! but in like a cute way.
"rafey!"
your soft voice echos throughout tanny hill as the door slams closed, the sound of your multiple shopping bags rustling become louder and louder as you walk into your boyfriends room.
"guess what i got!" you squealed, dropping all your bags onto the floor as you walked over to him. rafe was sat on his bed, his phone that was in his hands seconds ago now discarded as he looked up at you.
"what baby? something pretty?" you giggled as his question, making him crack a smile as he beckoned you to come closer with his fingers. your lips met for a soft kiss as you bent down, his rough hands making contact with the fat of your ass that was peeking out of your soft pink skirt.
you almost let yourself melt into the kiss before remembering your task, pulling back and earning a groan from your boyfriend. "well obviously, but i saw something and i had to get it. you're gonna be so excited"
he watched closely as you bent down to your shopping bags on the floor, riffling through them to find what you were looking for. he was expecting you to pull out a sparkly pink top or something to that effect, that looks nearly exactly the same as the ones you already have, but he would never say that to you.
you made a noise of excitment as you found what you were looking for, shooting up to face rafe as you hid the item behind your back.
"you ready?" you asked "as ready as ill ever be" rafe answers back.
he watched as you pulled a light pink coral-colored polo behind from behind your back, holding it up to him as you smiled brightly.
"look its pink!"
"i can see that baby, thank you" he answered, taking one look at the shirt and deciding that it would soon collect dust in the back of his closet.
he appreciated the thought and all, but he has no idea how many pink glittery versions of things you had found for him on your many shopping sprees that have now been long forgotten in his draws.
"i saw it and i knew it would be so perfect for you to wear to the country club tomorrow!" you said nonchalantly, grinning from ear to ear as you folded it gently and rested it softly upon his dresser.
rafe's eyes went wide at the statement. he knew that there was no way you would let him walk out of the house without that polo on without tears welling in your eyes and a pout resting on your lips, but he also knew there was no way he wasn't going to be ripped to threads if he showed up to play golf in that.
"i think we're doing a bit of a blue theme tomorrow baby" he states, your head turning back to face him immediately at his words, a slight narrow to your doe-like eyes.
"you don't do themes" you replied, not quite yet figuring out what he was plotting. never in your whole life of knowing rafe cameron have you ever heard him do a theme for the country club.
"well, uh. i just... i can't wear that shirt tomorrow. i will next time, promise" he knows how smart you are, that's a thing he loves about you, but you're not falling for his shit for a second.
"ok rafe" you replied. if your tone wasn't clue enough that you were upset, calling him rafe instead of your usual rafey made it crystal clear.
he watched as you turned back to the dresser, taking the folded pink polo and placing it neatly in his bottom draw, bending down so he could see nearly the whole expanse of your ass.
he knew what you were doing, but that didn't make him fall for it any less.
rafe knew he was done for the second your single soft sniffle ping in his ears, almost rolling his eyes but never giving in.
"babyyy" he drawled, rising from his spot on his bed and placing his hands softly on your hips while you stood stone cold in front of the dresser. "what's got you crying and sniffiling?"
"you don't like my present." you responded, turning around to face his chest as tears welled in your eyes, a pout painting your wobbling lip.
"no! no. baby i do. i love it. it's perfect" he replied, attempting to claw himself out of the hole he's created with his girlfriend.
"no you don't." you replied, placing your hands flat on his broad chest as his grip still remained tight on your hips, trying to softly push him away but making no effort to even get close to doing so.
"yes i do. because you picked it out for me." rafe responded, your head lifting at his words as you looked up at him through your tear soaked eyelashes.
"so why don't you want to wear it?"
"i do, i really do. just not to the country club" he stated, nearly punching himself for the words that came out of his mouth.
"oh, ok. it's fine. i understand" you replied. he and you both know you were lying straight through your teeth.
"i'll wear it next time, i swear" trying to prove to himself that he won't drop to his knees the second a tear trails down your cheeks.
you nodded softly, trailing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.
he sighed to himself, finally winning something between you two that proved he doesn't do everything you say.
rafe smirked to himself in the mirror hung on his wall, looking down at the polo resting in the open draw of his dresser and kicking it shut. emerging victorious.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
your white pumps clacked softly against the floorboard of the hallways of the country club. your soft pink skirt reaching barely over your thighs and your white jumper falling perfectly off your shoulder.
rafe's arm was slung lazily around your waist, resting heavily on your body as you both approached topper and kelce.
topper scanned you and rafe, smirking as he spoke.
"aw, wait thats actually adorable. y'all are matching"
Dex using his accuracy but for cute things.
Asking him to pass you a teabag and instead of taking those few extra steps he just throws it in your mug for you.
Forgetting to turn off the lights before going to bed and instead of letting you get up he just balls up a sock and throws it at the light switch. The clothes hamper now sits nicely under the light so he’s not overwhelmed by clothes on the ground when it inevitably happens again.
He never misses your mouth when he kisses you. Always right on the money!
You’re having a bad day, walking down the street. Maybe something happened at work. The pocket of your jacket suddenly feels heavier than just a few seconds prior. You put your hand in your pocket only to pull out your favourite candy. You look around, even up at fire escapes and windows. You don’t know where he is but he’s definitely around!
In summer, you make it your mission to get him to toss your sunglasses onto your face. Tipping your chin up as you dig into your beach bag for sunscreen, asking so sweetly if he could put your sunglasses on.
He does it, of course, and gets all that more smitten as you beam towards him. The frames sitting proudly on the end of your nose.
I’m sappy rn
18+
you and jack are hosting a memorial day barbecue at your house, jack by the grill all day making sure there’s no shortage of hot dogs and burgers for everyone. you’re walking around in a cute little bathing suit, drink in hand as you talk to your guests, stealing looks at jack as he talks with his friends. <333
white t-shirt, camo shorts showcasing his prosthetic—he’s so fucking sexy like this, silver hair glinting in the sun.
whenever you walk past, he’s tugging you by the waist for a kiss, tucking you into his side as he holds his beer, murmuring in your ear, “wanna bite, baby?” while he flips a burger. feels so safe, so easy to be with him like this—so domestic.
fresh showers and the sun setting, he fucks you in the living room when everybody leaves, has you sat on his cock murmuring while he smacks your ass, spurring you on, “my pretty little house wife did so well.” “been waiting to fuck you all day, baby.”
this is nothing but all i can think about today ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა
this is literally dex shut up
Richie Jerimovich
Richie Jerimovich x fem reader
This is a short mini series!!! Will be major time jumps and won't follow the show that closely.
warnings: age gap (reader is carmys age), strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, angst, jealous richie, eventual smut, 18+, MDNI.
chapters:
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Hear me out, a soft reader who is easy to impress (in a good way)
It's the little things.
pairing: benjamin!poindexter x reader
summary: your boyfriend was surprised by each new quirk of yours.
tags: fluff time, established relationship, opposite poles
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
You had a special charm for the little things in life. You could say you saw everything through rose-colored glasses. Which was very different from your boyfriend's way of seeing things.
greedy
jack abbot & f!reader
content <𝟑 .ᐟ 18+, housewife!reader, jack is STRICT, oral (m. receiving), deep throating, lots of spit, daddy kink, pet names.
you’ve had one thing on your mind all day. maybe it’s a bit depraved of you, maybe jack would tease you and pinch your sides and call you a naughty girl if he knew— but you don’t care. you need him. you need to taste him, to feel the weight of his cock on your drooling tongue, to cough and splutter around each fat inch when he goes too hard on your throat. yeah, that’s exactly what you need. it’s all you can think about as you get your chores done, especially when you’re folding his boxers and get a real good mental image of his bulge.
by the time you start methodically meal prepping his lunches for the week, you’re ready to claw at the walls in the kitchen. and by the time he gets home and happily takes the beer you offer him once he settles into the couch, you can barely think straight. you settle between his thighs and rest your elbows on them as you lean forward, sitting on your knees and staring up at him with big eyes as his eyebrows quirk up at your boldness. “you look like you’re ready to eat me alive,” he sighs, bringing his hand down to cradle the side of your face and sweep his knuckles over the soft swell of your cheek in the process.
you nuzzle into his hand. the mewl that escapes you when his thick thumb presses on your lips and rubs against them is involuntary. his voice is low and knowing, bordering on teasing, “do you need me here? need something in this sweet, messy mouth before you start whining and crying at me, is that it?”
when you nod dumbly, the very little composure he already had completely dissipates into nothing right in front of you. he only nods at you, grunting when your hands immediately start undoing his belt. you huff in relief before your lips move in a sugared little mumble (“thank you, daddy— really, really need it.”) that makes his heart squeeze in his chest, because you’re just too good to him. every single day.