Agblcver - Belle ༉‧₊˚✧.*

me if loving abby anderson was a crime ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

girls don’t want boyfriends they want art donaldson

me looking as logan FINALLY gets the attention he deserves from the marvel fandom:

oh lawwwwd

Oscar Piastri after the race - Qatar, 2024

ok but drug dealer lip jealous fucking shy!reader after she gets assigned tutoring a guy and didn’t tell him (manhandling her and all 🤭🤭)

the summer air hangs heavily in the dingy ice cream truck, and in efforts to be able to breathe, the door is cracked open an inch. however, it leaves an invitation to anyone searching for an extra gram, or for kevin, who should be returning soon from his recent trip to the dollar store. but that's not a thought when lip's hand nearly slips against your skull, your cheek pushed angrily against a sticky wall.

saccharine whimpers roll off your tongue when rough fingertips pinch and roll over your clit, and lip huffs hungrily between your pinched shoulder blades. "don't fuckin' move," he commands, releasing the pressure against your head to ease out his stirring cock from his tightening briefs.

you obey with another tepid mewl, nearly gasping when a thumb pushes into your weepy hole and massages roughly at your ribbed walls. "since when are you smart, huh?" he taunts, chin kissing his chest when he looks down to drop a globule of saliva onto his throbbing dick. "thought i figured out a way to make you stupid."

your eyes close, and you lick over your lips in anticipation. "it's just.. it looks good on my resume."

lip scoffs, legs bending in an awkward squat so he can gently ease the head of his cock between your trembling legs, and into your dewy cunt. "you don't need a resume. don't think i can take care of you, huh?"

you gasp wetly at the sudden intrusion, pussy tightening around his thick shaft. "just wanted t'help," you cry out, groaning when his hands find your pelvis so he can properly start up his abrasive rhythm.

his hips pound against your backside, and your head clunks slightly at the metal wall of the vehicle. his thumbs press bruises into the dimples of your back, and the man's not hesitant to start jackhammering up into your sweet cunt. "only thing you should be helping with is taking my cock, alright?" he hisses, removing a hand at your hip to resume its previous position against your skull. "quit fucking moving."

his dick presses rough kisses against your cervix with each rough thrust, and every once-existing thought is drifting away from your mind in the form of pert, desperate whines. "i'll cancel," you drawl between heavy breaths. "i'll cancel the meeting. promise i won't do it again."

lip's grin grows and he drops his rough facade to sear a kiss over your cheekbone. "atta girl. knew you'd learn. "

The season is practically over, and I'm still at the restaurant

I just want a little bite 🤏(ok ok BIG BITE)

what the fuck

men be like "fuck abby anderson" bro trust me im trying.

Imagine hanging out with Jason (as friends) and he lets you rummage through the pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing

He watches you with a soft gaze. You reaching into his pockets, is the closest he’s had to nonviolent physical touch in so long.

You pull out a pocket knife, he’s already confiscating it

Some random bullets, a scrap of a shopping list, a receipt, cherry chapstick, and one of your hair ties (the one he’s not wearing on his wrist)

ever since you’d started working at dunder mifflin, you’d had a thing for jim.

maybe it was a competency thing. he was smart, like not just computer smart — but the way he spoke. it was always so witty, smooth, somehow managing to mask the fact you could tell he’d always been a dork with the fact he’s funny, attractive and tall.

you’d catch yourself staring at him from your reception desk. watching him sell paper to a customer on the phone, pushed out from his desk with long gangly limbs sticking out, stretched legs protruding from the smooth wooden workspace. he’d always catch you, and after a while you stopped minding — taking more than a second to tear your lustful gaze away as you’d twirl that pen with the pink fluffy lid round and round. jim would often blink unsurely like he wasn’t sure if he’d just hallucinated it, shaking himself out of it quickly before stumbling over his words and continuing his call. you enjoyed getting a reaction out of him.

because you were so sweet and shy, it took longer than necessary for the two of you to become a thing. it was only after he’d stood up for you to dwight after the tall farmer had been picking on you all day, that you’d made the brave move to kiss jim in the parking lot at the end of your shift. since then you’d only gotten more handsy.

“are you okay? got a real stare on you today. feel like you’re gonna laser me with your eyes.” jim banters as you stand beside him in the break room, watching his large hands punch in the numbers in the vending machine to the snack he wanted.

“just ovulating.” you sigh softly making him perform a subtle double take in your direction as he leans down to scoop up the snack that fell from the machine.

“you’re— oh! right. well that’s… great.”

“means i want you.” you pout, an impish and impatient furrow to your brow as you reach forward and cup the heavy bulge in his work pants making him instantly double over in surprise.

“wh— oh wow okay— hey, there are cameras everywhere. you do — you do remember that right?” he blinks at you urgently, removing your hands and you giggle giddily, enjoying winding jim up. he’s always sexier when he’s a little irritated anyway.

“jim.” you whine and he looks around with that worried frown before grabbing your hand and dragging you out the office to the direction of the warehouse.

“the warehouse?” you’re practically ecstatic. not only was he going along with your nympho attitude, but he wanted to fuck you somewhere so risky. it was so unlike him.

“no cameras and, it’s kinda what you deserve right now. can’t treat you respectfully if you don’t act it.” he shrugs a shoulder, taking advantage of the fact that all of the workers were on their break to guide you into a small nook right in the back. “this should be good enough.” he pats the walls enclosing you, not sturdy in the slightest and you’re instantly reaching for his belt.

you think he’s gonna be mean, but then again — it’s not really jim’s style, as irritated as he gets, he’s too vanilla to be mean at heart. the sandy haired man stops your grabby hands, pulling them gently to the side and giving you a faux-disapproving look, clucking his tongue and shaking his head as he closes in on you, beginning to work your skirt up to your waist.

“uh, i think you were the one that wanted something. ladies first.” he shovels his hand into your panties, cupping your heat as he leans in for a kiss but stops just infront of your lips so they’re grazing and your breath mingles. “you were sitting there at reception this wet?” he emphasises, pulling back half a centimetre to raise his eyebrows at you sympathetically and you nod, holding your breath. “sweetie!” he coos quietly, tilting his head like he’s about to slot his lips right up on yours, but they stay simply grazing eachother. “poor thing.” he teases, before the kiss commences, and those long fingers take a break from the keyboards to work on you instead.