Latest Posts by agblcver - Page 5

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.

The Nicole piastri podcast special has changed my life like Oscar piastri is such a treasure what a boy … he used to pretend to be a car …. He only wanted to hear car magazines instead of bedtime stories … like I need to be sedated

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

my shooooowwww!!

the eras tour (italy's version)

!!!!!!!!! yessssss PLEASS

There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom

dick grayson x afab!reader

aka the professional boyfriend

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)

Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.

And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.

You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.

He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”

You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?” 

He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.

You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”

His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”

You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”

Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”

You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”

“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.” 

Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.

You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.

“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.

You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.

“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look. 

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.

“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.

He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”

“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”

You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips. 

You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.

“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.” 

“Dick.”

“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”

You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”

He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.  

It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.   

He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too. 

“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while. 

You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”

“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.

You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.” 

He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”

You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips. 

He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?” 

You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”

“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.

You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.

“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.  

“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”

It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.

Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.

He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly

You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…” 

He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.

He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.

🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job 🩵

x

i think about him all the time.

My baby !!!!!

‘You’re alongside the Ferrari’ *smile*

never beating the cat allegations i fear

(he’s so cute :’( i cant )

Oscar Piastri (pet the cat!)

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. "

i don’t trust people who don’t like sydney adamu.

THE BEAR (2022-) 03x07 | "Legacy"

yeah guys i wanna make him my personal trampoline 💋💋

DONT CALL IT A COME BACK HES BEEN HERE FOR YEARS!!!!

LEWIS WINS THE 2024 BRITISH GRAND PRIX

i cannot express how down bad i am for rob in love island like i need that man NOWWW

jimmy verstappen & leo leclerc living their best unbothered, relaxed, moisturized life 😌

🥹🥹💗

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.

my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3

"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.

The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"

"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"

Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.

"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.

"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.

"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.

"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.

"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.

Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.

Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.

You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."

Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"

"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.

"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.

"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."

"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.

"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"

"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."

"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.

"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.

Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.

"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"

"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."

Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.

Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"

Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"

"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."

"Carmy-"

"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.

Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.

Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"

"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.

"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"

"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"

"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.

Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.

Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.

"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's

"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."

Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."

"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"

Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."

You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"

"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."

"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.

You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."

"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.

"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."

"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.

He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.

You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.

Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.

pushing my abby anderson and emily engstler agenda

I haven’t seen a Despicable Me movie since the first one so to me Gru is like someone I knew years ago whose Christmas card list I’m happy to inexplicably be on. Oh wow, I forgot he got married. What a nice thing for the girls. Oh, he and his wife had a baby! How lovely!

nate wanted to please bunny!reader. it was an undying urge. something he’d been deadset on getting right. he knew she’d been spoiled in the past, and it was something he had no trouble with rising to — but it was bigger than that. he wanted to know how to please her emotionally, physically, have her so fulfilled she’d never wanna look at anyone else in her lifetime.

you enjoyed whenever he took charge, and that was something he’d noticed about you from the start. it wasn’t something he’d expected from someone who’d been treated like a princess her entire life — the sweet doe eyes you’d give him when you’d ask for permission over something small, or the way you’d preen into his touch when he’d hold your hips and guide you through a crowd was something he took mental note of to keep you happy.

it was the small things at first. catching you swinging your legs sat on his kitchen counter eating one of the cupcakes he’d ordered you to taste test as a favour for an upcoming event at chucks hotel. you slide your manicured finger through the white icing and suck it off, a sight that made him smirk, slacks feeling just that little bit tighter.

“so i think it’s safe to say the cupcakes are a hit?” he greets you, fixing the collar on his shirt as he steps closer. your thoughtful glossy pout stretches into a grin as you watch him approach, nodding and stretching your leg out to wrap an ankle around him and pull him closer. his smile doesn’t budge when he dips his own finger into the icing and brings it to your lips, letting you suck it off. you hum, fluttery eyelashes batting as you savour more than just the sweet treat, licking his skin and taking his wrist in both hands to hold you there. “mm. you’re gonna make me late to work babe.” he tsks, shaking his head in faux disapproval as your gaze flutters up to him guilty.

“please nate, can you be a little late?” you mewl, hips wriggling on the counter. it never took much to rile you up and he loved that. finger sucking — also noted.

“unfortunately not. i wish, though.” he complains, shaking his head. he takes a moment to look at you, hands sliding down to your cheeks as he simply holds you in the moment. “be a good girl for me today.”

he’s not sure why he said it, and honestly he was half expecting you to giggle — but you got this look in your eye once the gentle demand had left his lips. hazy and dumb, yet eager to please. he doesn’t miss the way you clamp your thighs together, nodding, which encourages him to take the path he did. “okay?” this time he waits for an answer.

“okay, nate.” you yield, and he smiles proudly.

“thats what i like to hear.”

you’d waited for him all day, and without even a text between the two of you — you both seemed to feel the sexual tension that lasted his entire work day. its only later when it gets resolved, nate gets back to investigating your needs.

he’s hovering over you on the bed, licking and kissing at the corner of your parted mouth whilst you moan, his long fingers hitting all the spots inside you as your spread legs tremble.

“n—nate!” it feels like a strain to say, like you don’t truly want to same his name, searching for something more affectionate.

“i know. just wanna make you feel good, beautiful. sound so pretty when you cum.” he coo’s in that velvety, deep, warm voice. the voice that makes you clench around him harder.

“d—ugh, mmm—”

“i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say there’s something else you wanna call me. am i right?” he addresses the glittery pink elephant in the room and your sticky eyes open, blinking in a daze trying to concentrate on his words. squeaking, you nod— lip wobbling like you’re on the verge of tears. he tilts his head kissing below your ear as his thumb joins the mix down below to stroke your clit. “is it daddy? do you wanna call me daddy, sweetheart?”

you don’t wait for permission this time, choking out a devastated “yes, daddy.” as your hips jerk up against his hand.

“ohhhhh, there you go. that’s my good girl using her words. should be proud of yourself.” you can hear the smirk in his tone like he wants to laugh but you don’t care, his words are enough to get you off — and soon you’re crying out in ecstasy.

since the day it was addressed, all shyness about the topic was purged from your body. you didn’t care who heard you call your boyfriend daddy, too wide eyed and needy to address the surprise. he got used to it too, and honestly felt a little bit of sick pride about the whole thing. he liked the world to know he took care of his girl.

whether it was clinging to his arm as your heels totter along the sidewalk, pressing your cheek to him and groaning out a “can i please just borrow your credit card, daddy?” when you want something, only for him to roll his eyes and hand it over between his fingers saying something along the lines of “i shouldnt. but here.”

or padding into the room in the tiniest pyjamas when chuck and nate are in the living room, having a serious discussion over a whiskey. you’d pout, clasping your hands at the front. “daddy you need to come to bed, please…”

chuck loved it, atleast. huffing out his smirky chuckle and turning back to nate with a “and where on earth do you find a girl like that? dont leave her waiting, nathaniel.” before leaving him to handle you.

luckily, you were so sweet that it was hard to judge you. hell — even serena was inspired to write a blog post on her sex column detailing the ‘up and coming daddy kink — and how it’ll drive your man wild’ and blair could only slightly turn her nose up upon hearing the nickname. you didn’t care though. you loved nate, and you wanted the world to know.

the last one😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

LANDO NORRIS Spanish GP 2024

engstler with 19 points, 8 rebounds, and 3 assists right now and they had her rooting on the bench at the beginning of the season

Going to KILL MYSELF!!!!! FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKMKKKKKKKK OSCARREE

NO OSCAR NOOOOO

my charles & keith wishlist • ೀ

guyyssssss i’m actually in love w her my heart is beating so fast

this is the cutest thing i’ve ever read.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ fit check ; op81

summary ; you make oscar do a fit check before going out on a walk.

you had seen the comments underneath your tiktoks, primarily your fit checks. oscar's fans are begging for better tiktok content from oscar, and you have decided today is the day. after tying up your sneakers, oscar grabs his keys, getting ready to leave.

"wait! i forgot something!" you exclaim, opening up your phone to tiktok and setting it up on the credenza. oscar, knowing you, stands off to the side awkwardly as you turn on the camera. what he doesn't expect is for you to pull him into frame as the counter ticks down. you smile bright, and start talking: "oscar and i are about to go on a walk, so why not do a fitcheck?" you giggle, looking at oscar's confused face.

"you wanna go first, baby?" you tease and oscar sighs, then pulls off his hat, looking at the front. "we got, mclaren," he says as he puts the hat back on his head. he points to his shirt and you laugh as he says, "mclaren."

"and the shorts..." he trails off, looking at the plain black shorts for any logo. "lululemon," you whisper, and oscar's eyebrows jump as he realizes. "yes, right. lululemon shorts." he lifts his foot, looking at his sneakers. "um...looks like adidas, might be wrong, but..." he shrugs, giving you a helpless look. you laugh at his raised eyebrows and wide eyes before gesturing to yourself.

"wanna guess my clothes?" oscar's eyebrows raise but he nods, turning his body slightly away from the camera so he can look at your outfit. "the top is...alo right?" his brows furrow slightly, but you see his face brighten up as you nod. "and then the leggings, lululemon." he taps the logo on the back, "noticed that earlier." you flush slightly but nod, before he looks at your shoes. "nike." he grins, nudging his foot against yours, proud.

"good job, baby!" you laugh, kissing his cheek. his rosy cheeks get redder, and he nods. "bye, guys! oscar, wave!" you get closer to the camera, and you laugh as oscar waves awkwardly before turning off the camera.

"such a good sport," you tease, patting as his cheek gently. he rolls his eyes, "never again." you hum, as you post the tiktok.

"sure, baby." you grin, knowing full well he loves you enough to do another one.

comments under "fit check w/ osc!!"...

username the way oscar knew all her clothes 🥹🥹

-> username also the fact that he barely knew the clothes he wears, but the second he sees her clothes he's like "oh! i know that!"

-> username i feel like they go shopping together, and he just follows her like a baby duck

-> username LIKE A BABY DUCK 😭😭 why can i imagine that

username y/n make oscar wear anything other than mclaren!!

-> yourusername i'm slowly infecting him

-> oscarpiastri ??

-> yourusername OUT OF LOVE!! 🤍🤍😊

-> username at least he has the lululemon shorts...it could be worse guys

username oscar's little tap on the lululemon logo...y/n getting flustered...oscar's cheeky smirk...much to think about

-> username THEY'RE SO CUTE IT MAKES ME WANNA 🗣️🗣️

username these are my parents your honor

-> yourusername welcome to the fam username!!!

-> oscarpiastri i am not adopting a stranger on the internet

-> yourusername OSC 😭😭

-> username i see how it is...

username more fit checks with oscar please!!! you guys are so cute!!

-> yourusername oscarpiastri the kiddies want more!!!

-> oscarpiastri 😐