#speed dating tips

[datinglife]

Speed Dating Questions: Adding Humor to Break the Ice

Speed dating can be nerve-wracking, especially when the time to make an impression is limited to just a few minutes. One way to stand out and ease the tension is by adding humor to your questions. Funny questions can help create a relaxed atmosphere, allowing both parties to feel more comfortable. They also reveal your playful side, which can make the interaction more memorable. Below are some humorous speed dating questions that can lighten the mood and spark interesting conversations.

1. “If you were a superhero, what would your superpower be?”

This lighthearted question invites your date to get creative and share something unique about themselves. It often leads to fun answers and can even give insight into their personality. Are they practical, funny, or adventurous? Their answer might even lead to some humorous banter about how their power could make the speed dating experience more interesting.

2. “What’s your go-to karaoke song?”

Music is a great topic for any date, and this question adds a fun twist by focusing on karaoke. It’s light, playful, and opens up the conversation to shared musical interests. You might even learn about their guilty pleasure songs or get an entertaining story about a memorable karaoke night. Plus, it provides an easy follow-up question, such as, “Do you sing often?” Read More

[loopdile]

transcription under the cut!

The worst ship chart ever.

Ship name: Loopdile

[insert very tiny math] Ages: 43 and 31? Age difference: 8?

Portrait of Odile with an eyebrow raised saying "I'm not telling." Name: Odile. Gender: trans woman (maybe nb but idrc rn). Sexuality: Aro lesbian.

Portrait of Loop with a finger raised saying "I'm not telling~" Name: Loop. Gender: Nonbinary (??? what is identity). Sexuality: Ace bi

General sliders. "Relationship starts quickly vs the slowest burn you can possibly imagine" is marked fairly close to slowly and trails off towards slow burn. "They'll be together forever vs They'll break up after 2 months tops" has two marks, one at 2 months and one really close to forever. "Cute couple vs dear god they're ugly" is marked a quarter slider away from cute. "Reasonably healthy and normal relationship vs They're dying and getting killed and hurt man" has a wide mark all the way from the halfway point to a quarter away from healthy. "Extremely popular ship vs literally no one ships this but me" is marked fairly close to no one.

Specific sliders. "Giddy and happy to be in love vs they just killed themselves 40 times in their head at the idea of being in love" has loop at died and odile fairly close to died. "The madoka vs the homura" has loop at homura and odile a third of the slider away. "Telling anyone who will listen about their partner vs rarely brings up that they're in a relationship" has loop a quarter away from telling anyone and odile fairly close to rarely. "eats and/or encourages a healthy diet vs eats dry instant noodles only" has loop at noodles and odile a third away from healthy. "crazy ass vs truck freak" has loop at crazy ass and odile fairly close to truck freak.

Tell me why your ship is interesting... go!

What draws them together? Odile is the only motherfucker that can handle them; Loop is weird and intriguing.

What stands in the way? Poor communication skills; Loop is clingy but Odile often needs space; Loop lashes out and self-isolates.

What are their good traits? They're both hilarious and dedicated to the bit; they're both devoted to their loved ones.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Odile is aro-spec and uninterested in romance; Loop both hates/fears and craves romance; Luckily they can just be something stranger!

Describe them with one trope: found family, deadpan x emotional, secret third thing, I'll protect you from yourself.

[lamefish]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[callsign-datura]

okay but. simon riley's dick. it's not a monster when it comes to length. 7 inches or so. but it's fucking thick. wide. thinner at the base, flares out up to the tip and has an upward curve. every time you and him fuck, it feels like how it did the first time you ever had sex; and if he's been away for a while? it downright stings. but the sting is lost on you when he hits that gummy spot inside you over and over. even tone from the base up. soft pink at the tip that flares an angry red when he's too hard for his own good. he has a few veins, specifically one thick vein along the underside. otherwise it's relatively smooth. he doesn't let his pubes get too long. usually keeps himself trimmed, does a bit of extra work before a date with you and he knows he's going to your place after. at first, he's a slow fucker. slow, gentle thrusts as he holds onto your hips. he rocks his hips slowly to let you get used to it, let the sting fade away. once you start making those whimpery noises, he speeds up a bit. and when you start begging? He forgets about being gentle. switches positions during sex. treats it as an activity for you two to bond, likes the idea of holding you close. likes missionary, but he likes doggystyle more. enjoys pinning you against a wall and holding your hands together as he grinds his hips into yours over and over. he's not vocal, at least until he gets close. when he knows you're about to cum and you start squeezing on him, he says the dirtiest things and laughs when he feels you squeeze even harder. he loves asking questions, expecting no real answer but a pathetic whimper and a moan. "you like that, love? like how it feels when i fuck you stupid? look at that look on your face... fuck, you're tight. squeeze me any harder and i'll fill up this pretty pussy. mm, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

[d3vilcvntz]

(top male reader x older bottom character)

being a sugar baby to an older man but you're the top >>>

you're so much younger and so much smaller than him. he's literally towering above you whenever you guys are together. people will always assume that he's the top in your relationship.

you are not even struggling with money, you're doing this just because you can. i mean, who doesn't want a handsome man taking care of you and pampering you with money everyday ?

you met him when you were scrolling through a dating app, seeing his profile that barely shows his face. he did messaged you first, asking to meet up if you're free and you agreed. you lowkey expected someone ugly to come but you don't even care at this point, anything for a thousand dollars i guess. you were so glad that you were wrong when you actually saw him face to face. for someone his age, he's really attractive.

you guys constantly meet up after that, just going on dates anytime you're both free. he paid for everything though, you did offered to pay sometimes but he always refused it. it was just casual until you both went drinking one day, getting so drunk that he ended up getting pounded by you that night. you were scared that everything will end here and you'll never see him again

but the next day, he offered you a position. you'll be his personal dildo and he'll pamper you with money everyday. this is like the best offer you've ever received. sex with someone as attractive as him and getting paid at the same time ? fuck yeah

at this point, most of your friends knew about this relationship as you literally started wearing expensive clothes and saying that you're busy anytime your friends asked to hangout. they sometimes asked the reasons why you can't hangout with them and you'll just says that you have something important to do at night. you weren't exactly lying though

pushing his head into the pillow, grabbing his hips so roughly that it leave marks behind. his hole tightly clamped into your cock, you leaned closer to him "it's so funny how everyone think you're the top" you whispered to his ear "when you're literally getting fucked like a whore everynight" you continued, pulling your cock out of his hole.

he turns to look at you right away, whimpering, feeling empty as his hole clenched on nothing "please...don't pull it out" he begged so sweetly, tears running down his face. you smiled at him, grabbing his arm to turned his body to you so you can see him completely. it caught him off guard as you'll always do it from behind "i wanna see your face while i ruined you tonight" you said, your hand reached out and touched his face, wiping his tears away. leaning towards him to kiss his swollen lips

you slide your cock inside of him again, pulling away from the kiss and slowly speeding up your pace. his hands grabbed the sheets, mouth agape with sweets sounds coming out of it. his poor useless cock bouncing everytime you thrusts into him, just leaking precum all over his stomach "i..want to- ah! cum.. i want to cum~!" he repeated, looking at your face for approval. you smiled at him, nodding your head as your hand reached out to touch his cock. teasing the tip before pumping it roughly

he came first, his eyes roll back as the white liquid spurt all over his stomach and your hand. you slammed your cock so deep inside of him as you release your load in him.

falling asleep and waking up the next day to him being gone from your side. only leaving money on the nightstand. you sighed and took the money. sitting on the edge of the bed, getting ready to go through your day like usual. dont worry, you'll see him again tonight.

[slmckle]

thinking about overstim with rafe, but it’s not how you think.

warnings: MDNI 18+, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, edging, handjobs (m receiving), praise, sub!rafe, mentions of good boy, dacryphilia if you squint, mommy kink, brief p in v, pink fuzzy handcuffs ☺️

“Shit, baby...” he groans as his hips buck into your hands. you've been teasing him for what feels like hours, your hands fast on his cock. he reaches for your hand to hopefully get you to halt. you tut, “stop it, Rafe.”as you use your free hand to grab his, pinning it to his side as his hips stutter.

Rafe had made you mad that day. you and he went on a date, and you saw how his eyes lingered on the waitress's skirt for too long, practically undressing her with his eyes.

“please, m'sorry…”he whines, letting out breathy moans. his right hand gripping the sheets while his left rests on his head. he gasps as unshed tears rest in his eyes, the sight causing your pussy to throb.

who knew that you'd have the Rafe Cameron whining and whimpering on your bed, all due to a bit of overstimulation. “are you really sorry, ray?” you purr as you speed up your movements on his thick cock, the wet 'Schlick!' noises fill the room.

“yes! yes, mommy! m'sorry, plea-e-ease..!”he whimpers as his legs shake and writhe underneath you, causing you to get angry and straddle him.

“rafe, stop it.” you warn as you squeeze the tip of his cock in your hands, making him whine. you can tell he's close by his moans increasing in volume. you smirk and get him right to that point of cumming before pulling off of him, letting out a sultry chuckle as he almost yelps.

“baby, please! please stop! i'm sorry!” out, tears now falling. you shake your head letting out a hearty giggle. “no, rafe. you weren't a good boy today, remember?” you coo as you look at him, bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat.

he lets out a choked sob as your hands find his cock once again, slowly moving up and down, torturing him. his hips buck and grind into your hand, you almost feel bad. i mean, it's pathetic, really..

his fat tears still rolling down his face, back arched, hands gripping the sheets, and eyes rolling back. you decide to give in and give him what he wants, spitting on his cock and twisting your hand up and down, squeezing the tip like you know he loves.

“come on, rafe.. cum for mommy, you've earned it.” you say with a condescendingly sweet tone of voice, the one that rafe hates but won't admit the way it makes his cock twitch.

he moans loudly, jaw dropping as he cums. thick, white spurts of cum coat your hand. you're almost surprised at the amount of cum spills from his swollen, pink tip.

“ohhhh, good boy..” you mew before leaning down and licking a thick stripe up the base of his cock, gathering the cum in your mouth before swallowing. the lewd scene causes rafe to moan. “fuck, baby... y'trying to kill me?”he breathes out, chest falling up and down.

you giggle before grabbing his hands and some pink fuzzy handcuffs out of the bedside table, his eyes widen at the sight of what his sweet girl pulled out of the drawer.

you look at him with a smirk at his shocked look. “what? you think you’re done, baby?” you say before cuffing his hands to your bed frame and straddling him, sinking down on his hard cock.

‘this is gonna be a longggg night.’ he thought.

dts: @maybanksprincess (she saw it first <3)

[xo100]

Lazy mornings - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris loves lazy mornings with you, sharing sweet kisses, soft touches, and playful conversations. In these quiet moments, he feels completely at peace, treasuring the time spent together.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1304

୨ৎ

Lando Norris had never been much of a morning person. Racing, adrenaline, and speed had always been his lifeblood, but the early wake-up calls that came with his career? Not so much. However, that all changed when you entered his life.

You had been dating for just a few weeks now, and yet, it felt like longer in the best way possible. Every moment with you felt comfortable, as if you two had known each other for years. Especially these lazy mornings together.

Lando loved lazy mornings, but only because he got to spend them with you.

-

It was one of those mornings now. The sun was barely peeking through the cracks of the curtains, painting a soft golden hue over the room. The world outside was still quiet, not quite ready to start the day. But inside Lando’s bedroom, everything was warm, peaceful, and just... right.

Lando stirred, blinking slowly as he felt the familiar weight of your body next to him. He smiled to himself before rolling onto his side to face you, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing you like this—sleeping so peacefully, with your hair splayed out over the pillow, your face soft and serene. He often found himself wondering how he got so lucky.

Without thinking too much about it, he reached out, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. His fingers lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across your skin. You let out a little sigh in your sleep, shifting slightly closer to him. Lando couldn’t help but grin.

He leaned in closer, pressing the softest of kisses to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally, to your lips. They were quick, feather-light kisses, but they held all the sweetness in the world. He loved waking you up like this—slowly, softly, without any rush. It was one of the little routines he'd grown to adore in your short time together.

Your eyelids fluttered slightly, and he knew you were starting to wake up, but you hadn’t opened your eyes just yet. Lando didn’t mind. He scooted closer, pulling you against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of your body against his felt like home. He loved the way you fit against him, as if you were made to be held by him.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Lando murmured into your hair, his voice low and a little raspy from sleep.

You groaned softly, your lips twitching into a small smile, but your eyes remained closed. “Too early…” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep, making Lando chuckle.

“It’s never too early when you’re this cute,” he teased, pressing another kiss to your temple.

You finally cracked an eye open, just enough to give him a sleepy, half-hearted glare. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris,” you murmured, though there was no real bite to your words.

“Oh really?” Lando’s hand began to gently trace up and down your back, the touch so soft it sent a shiver down your spine. He grinned mischievously, knowing the effect he had on you.

You rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t help the way your body relaxed further into him. “Maybe just a little bit,” you conceded with a playful smile, closing your eyes again.

Lando’s grin widened, proud of himself. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of you. It was comforting, grounding. “I love mornings like this,” he confessed quietly, his voice softer now, more vulnerable.

You hummed in agreement, your fingers lazily tracing circles on his arm. “Yeah?” you asked, still half-asleep.

��Mhm,” he mumbled against your skin, his lips brushing lightly against your collarbone. “I love waking up next to you. Feels like… I don’t know. Like everything’s just the way it’s supposed to be.”

That made you smile, and you finally opened your eyes fully, looking up at him. His face was inches from yours, his messy hair falling over his forehead in a way that made him look even younger, even softer. There was something about seeing him like this—unguarded, gentle—that made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah?” you repeated, your voice softer now, more sincere.

“Yeah,” Lando said, his eyes locking onto yours, a rare seriousness in his gaze. “I like this. Us. Feels good.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It wasn’t hurried or passionate, but slow and tender, filled with the warmth of a shared moment. When you pulled back, you found him grinning at you like a lovesick puppy, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Lando said, his grin only growing. “You’re just... beautiful, that’s all.”

You rolled your eyes again, though your heart fluttered at his words. “You’re ridiculous.

“And yet you love me,” he shot back quickly, his playful tone back in full force.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Who says I love you?”

Lando gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “Ouch. That hurts, babe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Alright, alright. Maybe I do love you a little.”

Lando’s eyes lit up at that, even though he already knew. Still, hearing you say it—even just a little—made his chest swell with happiness. He leaned down, kissing you again, deeper this time, but still slow and tender.

His hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing gently against the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up a bit. It was innocent, but still enough to make your breath catch slightly. He noticed, of course, and pulled back with a smug little smirk.

“You’re trouble,” you whispered, narrowing your eyes at him, though there was no real annoyance behind it.

“I know,” he said, grinning, his fingers now tracing patterns along your waist. “But you like it.”

“Debatable,” you replied, though the way your body was reacting to his touch betrayed your words.

Lando chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

You sighed dramatically, pretending to be exasperated, but truthfully, you loved these mornings just as much as he did. The lazy conversations, the gentle touches, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world—it was something you never knew you needed until you met Lando.

As you lay there, tangled up in each other, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You weren’t rushing to start the day, weren’t thinking about anything outside of this bed, this moment. And that was rare. Especially for Lando, whose life was usually a whirlwind of fast cars, media obligations, and constant travel.

But here, in this quiet moment, it was just you and him. No race cars. No cameras. Just two people in love, basking in the warmth of a lazy morning together.

Lando shifted slightly, pulling you even closer—if that were possible—and you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His hand continued to draw lazy patterns on your back, soothing and comforting.

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando murmured, his voice soft and content.

“Me too,” you whispered back, feeling the same way.

He smiled, his fingers still trailing along your skin. “We should do this more often.”

“We do this every morning,” you teased.

“Yeah, but we should make it a rule. No early mornings unless it’s for racing,” he said, his tone playful but his words sincere.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Deal.”

And with that, you both fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. The world outside could wait. For now, this was all that mattered.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed! Also thank you so much for the support on my other stories!

[kurooangel]

too big, ── ft. suna r. ✦

smut. timeskip haikyuu. relationship established. not translate/repost my work anywhere. english is not my first language!! ,, masterlist. spanish vers. here!

even if you and rintaro have been dating for a few years, you still didn't get used to his size. it was too big.

"fuuuck..." you whined. his mouth leaving a path of wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. "baby, please... go slower"

he ignored your request and his hips rock against yours again, wildly and fiercely. the sound of your moans filling the bedroom everytime he fills your dripping cunt. you feel the tears budding up in your eyes and some of them falling down on your red cheeks.

"aw, sweetheart, are you crying?" he smirked and kissed your cheeks where the tears were falling. "you can take it, babe. c'mon, show me what a good girl you are." suna whispered against your lips before capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, slipping his tongue and interlacing it with yours.

he stopped moving and let you squeeze his cock, aching for more. you pulled back from the kiss and your teary eyes meet with his, your gaze full of lust matching his own.

"why did you stop?" you whispered, your voice a broken pleading and your nails digging into his back. "please, rin', keep going. please, please."

"just admiring the view. such a needy thing you are, sweetheart." he teased. his smirk widened and thrusted his cock against your core again, wildly, feeling your cunt hug him. "god, babe, you feel so good, so, so good." he groans.

suna's pace speeded even more and his thrusts getting rougher, his tip reaching your sweet spot again and again and again. your nails scratched his back all was down, leaving red lines by its path. he devoured your lips, his tongue invading your mouth without asking for permission, just because he can, just because you're his.

"rin, is too much, I'm gonna..." you gasp against his lips, feeling your ecstasy coming.

"shut up and take it, be a good girl" suna's voice is ragged, full of desire, and he keeps using your pussy without any mercy.

don't forget to like + reblog and let me know what you think ! love yall ♡♡ MORE WORKS: mlist.

[callmecoke]

Thinking of the first time the 141 discover you on a website for Sugar Babies...

TW: Sex work, specifically being a sugar baby. Mention of insanity, but it's mostly exaggeration; this one's pretty SFW, but I would proceed with caution because the subject matter is adult. Not Proofread!!

This is the first instalment of something I’ll continue writing about!!! And also my first post!!!! Yipeeee😆😆😆

I’m thinking about one tired, slow, dull day with our favourite 141 boys as they sit around waiting to receive orders and go-tos from higher-ups. They’ve done everything they could to pass the time: Polished and prepared the weaponry, sorted and stored old files, and Simon even got desperate enough to fold, wash and tuck in bedding for the second time. But eventually, they ran out of little distractions and were left waiting for orders that might never come. Bit by bit, it was driving them mad. The first to snap was Gaz, who was already pacing up and down the base like a madman. Out of desperation, he grabbed his laptop that he hid under his bed and opened it. He knew he wasn’t allowed to access electronic devices while at base; frankly, he wasn’t even supposed to have them at all. But Price couldn’t be bothered to chastise his sergeant, as he was equally starting to get desperate for some action too. 

Gaz just started opening tabs, looking for anything to pass the time. He wasn’t sure what his goal was other than to find something that might quell his building insanity. That’s when he saw it. Some sort of…dating website? No, not entirely that. It was filled with livestreams, gorgeous younger men and women just talking. He looked further and found it was some kind of sugar baby service where people could come on and interact with lonely rich fellas with cash to spend. Interesting, but not his thing. He was about to exit the page when he spotted your livestream. You were attractive, no doubt about that, but you also seemed a lot more nervous than the other ‘sugar babies’ on this website acted. Like you were new to all this. Your live stream was just you sitting on your bed with the laptop in front of you, only having a dozen or so viewers at most. Curiosity struck him, and his finger moved to click on your livestream. 

The audio of you talking played out of the speakers on the laptop, making the other three men's heads turn in Gaz’s direction. You spoke softly, careful with your words as you talked about yourself and your day, answering questions now and again. It was intriguing. You had each of their attention with the way you spoke. None of them had spoken to a civilian for months. Outside of the 141, they barely even saw another human being with the way they were stuck there. So hearing your voice felt like singing angels to them, one that came to pull them out of the darkness of their minds. Soap and Simon silently shuffled to where Gaz was and leered behind him, watching you talk over his shoulder. Price continued to sit on his side of the room, but he was still entranced by your voice. Even ordering Gaz to turn up the volume if it got too quiet.

Gaz soon realised that the livestream was nearing its end. You hadn’t earned a lot of money, and you were slowly losing steam. But Gaz was desperate. He needed to hear your voice again. To talk to you, speak to you, interact with you somehow. His fingers moved before his brain did, and he input his card details into the website faster than the speed of sound. You had to pay in order to leave a comment and interact on this kind of website, so he tipped you a healthy sum of cash before typing out the quickest sentence he could to get your attention.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

[hannieehaee]

CLOSER (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: after making it all the way to your final year of uni still having not experienced a single orgasm, you decided to take matters into your hands. your solution? asking your best friend wonwoo to teach you all he knew.

content: f2l!wonwoo, softdom!wonwoo, virgin reader, unrequited crush (not really lol), pov starts with reader but moves on to wonwoo's, basically just smut and almost no plot lol, like three separate smut scenes oops, smut, afab reader, dry humping, oral (m and f receiving), thigh riding, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 477 (teaser); 12.9k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: july 12th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: this was longer and way messier than anticipated but i hope u guys like it!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"You're crazy,"

Those were Wonwoo's last words before scoffing and walking away, completely disregarding your presence.

"Wait!," you raised your voice, attempting to prevent his departure, "Just hear me out," you pleaded.

"'Hear you out'?", he scoffed, "You just asked me – out of nowhere – to 'teach you how to have sex.' The mere question was the end of the conversation," he deadpanned and continued walking away, you trailing behind.

Despite how cold and direct he was with his words, you knew him well enough to assess that he wasn't neither mad nor offended, just entirely uninterested in the proposition. He simply continued to walk away, far too indifferent about your admittedly strange request.

"Let me at least explain," you whined as you walked side by side with him.

He merely hummed, seemingly a bit annoyed at the fact you were still going on about such a silly prospect.

"Listen," you began, "You're the only person I can ask. You're the only one who knows I'm a virgin," you whispered the last words, as if any of the other students walking by would care enough to listen in on your conversation.

"Why do you need me to take it from you?", he grumbled, "Just wait til you meet some guy you like and lose it to him."

You let out a groan of annoyance, "Have you met a man before? They all suck! You're the only guy I trust," you added, "Plus, I'm 22. No guy is going to be patient enough with me not to traumatize me. They all assume I'm experienced already."

His speed did not diminish, but he turned to look at you after hearing that, a semi-serious look on his face, "Has anyone done anything-"

"No! It's just ... They kinda expect me to already know what I'm doing, and when I try to explain it they either get super horny or they just ghost me," you cringed at the sudden resurgence of failed attempts at dating through the past year.

"Okay, so, you want me to take your virginity just for research purposes?"

"Yes! Exactly that!"

"Just watch porn, then," he deadpanned once more with a scoff.

"Wonwoo!," you slapped his arm in annoyance, "Please, at least try to take me seriously."

"Fine," he grumbled, "I'll take you seriously if you actually make some sort of methodological plan for me to assess. Only then will I actually try to come to a decision."

Spoken like a true nerd.

Unbeknownst to Wonwoo, his nerdiness was kind of part of his charm.

"Okay, fine, fucking nerd," you retorted, "You. Me. My apartment. This weekend. Meet me at 10 and I'll have your dumb 'procedural documentation' awaiting your approval," you spoke the last few words with a nasally tone in order to mock him, getting a chuckle out of him.

"Great," he smiled, "See you then, virgin."

...

you can check it out today on my ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one!

[datinglife]

Speed Dating in Atlanta: A Fun Way to Meet New People

Atlanta, known for its rich culture, thriving business scene, and vibrant nightlife, is an exciting city for singles. However, finding time to meet new people can be a challenge. That’s where speed dating comes in—a fun, efficient way to meet multiple people in one evening and potentially find a connection. If you're looking to explore the dating scene in Atlanta, speed dating is a great way to do it.

In this article, we’ll explore what speed dating is, why it’s popular in Atlanta, and how you can make the most of your experience.

Why is Speed Dating Popular in Atlanta?

1. Busy Lifestyles, Limited Time

Atlanta is a bustling city with professionals, students, and artists who often have packed schedules. Speed dating provides a way for busy singles to meet many people in a short period, saving time compared to traditional dating or endless swiping on apps.

2. Face-to-Face Connections

While online dating is convenient, nothing beats meeting someone in person. Speed dating lets you experience instant chemistry and gauge a person's personality through body language and conversation. This in-person connection is something that can be difficult to achieve with online messaging. read More

[shaadiwish]

Here’s Your Quick Guide On Everything You Need To Know About Speed Dating In The GenZ Modern World. For More Trends, Stay Tuned With ShaadiWish.

[ang3l0fthursday]

author note: i couldn’t come up with a name!

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: first time with matt😴

warnings: | p in v | first time together but NOT virginity loss | sub! matt x soft dom!reader | no use of y/n | slight overstimulation? | riding | hand job |

lmk if i missed anything! (pretty please!)

word count: 1.5k

matt is blue

reader is pink

you and matt had been dating for around a month now, you were both comfortable with each other but everything was still very new.very new.

you had yet to be intimate, sure there was kissing and making out but nothing passed clothes.

it’s not that you hadn’t ever done anything, you have experience, not a lot but enough to know what you were doing.

—— first person

matt and i were watching a movie, i had tuned out what it was, deciding to go on my phone instead. matt had switched back and forth, ultimately deciding on his phone

“this movie kinda sucks huh” matt sighed, his hand that was wrapped under my lower back started mindlessly stroking my side

“i wouldn’t know i quit paying attention a long time ago” i laughed

he simply smiled before lowering his head down to meet me, his lips landed on mine in a soft kiss

i leaned up slightly to get a better angle and matt’s hand slipped to the back of my head, pushing me into kissing him deeper

his hand left my head and made its way under the bend of my knee, bringing me forward onto his lap

i pulled away and simply smiled before leaning back in for another kiss

i adjusted my hips, making matt let out a groan

i pulled away to look at him with a curious look, his cheeks flushed in a soft apple-y color

i moved my hips again shyly

matt’s eyelashes fluttered shut and his breath hitched

my hands found their way to the sides of his face and pulled him back in for yet another kiss

i slowly started to move my hips back and forth across his length

matt let out soft noises against my lips

holy fuck.

i let a hand slip down to his waistband

“can i?”

i hadn’t stopped my movements so he struggled out an “uh huh”

his eyes were shut tight and his mouth hung open as i slipped my hand below both his sweatpants, and boxers waistband

i shuffled back slightly, allowing myself room

“sit up a little for me baby”

he pushed himself up a little, while he did so his hands gripped tight down beside him

“thank you baby.. are you sure?”

“i’m sure”

i pulled his length out of his boxers, hesitating a little at his size

“you’re so big matty” i giggled

he grabbed the neckline of my shirt, pulling me into him, and placing his lips on mine. as he did so i stroked slightly up his length, he shuddered underneath me.

my hand slowly started speeding up, grazing over his tip

he let out a whine when i let go

“come here baby”

he leant forward and i grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head

“don’t wanna messy up one of your shirts do we?”

he simply shook his head, i grabbed his length again and his head flew back when my thumb when over his slit. he let out a strangled moan and i tilted his face forwards me while i started stroking him faster

he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me forward, his forehead laid down on my shoulder and his whimpers and moans got louder.

“fuck m-“ he started, before going silent again

oh?

“what was that matty?”

“fuck mama f-feels so good”

his arms gripped tighter around me, he bucked his hips up

“shh it’s okay matty”

he panted and panted and i stayed the same pace, not wanting to change the way he was feeling.

“please- please please oh- my god!”

“please what matty?”

“fuck don’t stop”

“i wasn’t gonna baby”

he lifted his head up to kiss me before laying his head in the crook of my neck, he bit down only slightly before bucking his hips up again

“i’m so close please don’t stop- fuck oh my god”

“shhh it’s okay matty you’re doing so good”

he bucked his hips up one last time before white spurts flooded out of him and onto his chest

he panted and whimpered and i slowly let off of his pretty cock,

as soon as i let go he pulled me in for a kiss, the kiss felt as though it was filled with more. with want.

before the kiss ended i felt something at my pants, i let go of him and looked down to see his soft fingers tugging at my pants

i looked to his face to see him already looking up at me in a sort of plea

“please”

“what’s wrong matty?”

“want you to feel good too mama”

i glanced down at his length to see he was already hard again

oh.

“okay” i smiled

“are you sure?” he asked, his demeanor changing as if there was no way i’d agree

“of course matt, i promise you im sure”

i kissed him before standing and pulling down both my bottoms and my panties, as well as my shirt. After, i pulled matt’s pants and boxers down all the way off of him and threw them next to my own clothes.

i got back on the bed and hovered above matt’s lap

i pecked his lips before grabbing his cock and moving his tip in a line through my folds.

he gasped slightly as his head leaned back and his jaw went limp

i slowly slid down his length and he immediately let out a loud moan.

i settled in and breathed before slowly shifting my hips causing matt to whimper out loudly

“shit! oh my god”

i sped up my movements,matt’s arms went to wrap around my waist and i wrapped my own around his head, bringing him into my chest.

he panted into my breasts as i moved my hips back and forth. i could feel his length pulse inside of me

“f-fuck im so s-sensitive” he whimpered into my chest

“it’s okay matty- fuck!”

i couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, he just feels so good.

“god you belong inside me matty”

“fuck- mama i’m close”

“not yet matt you can hold out for me can’t you?”

he nodded his head against me and bucked his hips up. he moaned out, begging for his release

“fuck please mama please i need to- to cum so bad please”

“im almost there matt hold on”

i sped up my hip movements, my clit bumped against his skin, causing me to let out a loud noise

everything was so tight inside of me, i clenched down onto his cock and threw my head back.

“fuck cum with me matty”

as soon as i uttered those words i felt him cum inside me, i clenched down unintentionally from the wave of pleasure that came over me, my mouth hanging open silently

matt on the other hand was being anything but quiet, he moaned and whimpered incoherently, i could only make out quiet curses and he slowed his movements, as did i.

i kept my eyes closed as i calmed my breathing

i carded my hands through his soft hair for a minute before kissing his head and going to pull off of him. As i tried doing so he held his arms around me tighter

“i gotta get off matty” i giggled

“just- just give me a minute” he spoke through deep breaths and pants

“okay matty” i smiled and kissed his head a bunch before wrapping my arms around his head once more

i waited a few more seconds, and as i was about to ask matt why we wanted to wait to pull out, i felt him move in my core and shuffle slightly

“matt? are you h-“

“uh huh” he admitted shyly

he was hard. again.

“please ma one more- just one more”

he faded out of his sentence as he kept moving my hips down onto his

he lifted my hips up his length before slamming me back down onto him

“fuck! matt- oh my god!”

his hands made no attempt at pausing as he sped up his movements on his cock

“oh shit matt”

i felt like i was in bliss. the way his hands gripped at my sides, the way his cock fluttered inside me, and the way he whimpered and moaned my name.

i suddenly noticed that matt had been doing all the work this time so i grabbed his hands and placed them together, holding them down on his chest and moving my hips and the same rhythm that matt had already set. my face was inches from his, his face looked so pretty with his eyebrows knitted and his jaw slack

“god- fuck! mama you make me feel so good- i’m so close oh my god”

“me too baby- fuck” i muttered under my breath before i snapped my hips forward a little quicker then i had before, and at that- matt struggled out a moan and came inside me, my walls fluttered down onto him and the band in my core snapped with his

matt’s hips twitched and kept bucking up as we both came down from our highs together,

he panted before kissing my neck and biting down, holding back one last whimper.

he panted against my neck before pulling back and just looking at me as i took my own deep breaths

he smiled giddily and just giggled. his hand came up and slipped my hair behind my ear and pulled me in for a kiss

i pulled away, “do you think chris or nick heard?”

[incognit0slut]

omg neeeed a spencer fic based off of lunch by billie eilish, i feel like that song definitely suites him 😭

Being cornered in the filing room was the last thing you expected when Spencer asked you out for lunch.

Warnings: (18+) oral (f), semi-public (they’re at work) ~1.6k words

A/n: Ty anon I've been listening to this song nonstop and now I have a reason to use it for munch Spence, ily

“What do you want to eat for lunch?” you asked, striding through the bullpen with Spencer at your side. He had a hand on your lower back, and you couldn't help but wonder why he was being so touchy at work when he was usually the one insisting on professionalism. Not that you were complaining; you’d take any small gesture of his affection.

“How about that new sushi place around the corner?” you suggested, leaning into him slightly. “I could go for a salmon skin roll.”

He remained unusually silent, and as you exited through the glass doors, you frowned when he guided you away from the elevator. “What—” you began, looking up at him as he led you down the hallway. “Where are you taking me?”

His silence was starting to unnerve you. He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before pulling you into the filing room and shutting the door behind you.

“Spencer,” you hissed, eyes darting around the room. “What are you—”

Before you could finish, his lips were on yours, pressing you against the door. His hands cupped your face, holding you in place as he kissed you with a fervor that left you breathless. You hadn’t realized just how much his kisses could affect you until you started dating him—each one was deep, passionate, and downright knee-weakening.

When he finally pulled away, you clung to his arms for balance, your mind reeling. “What was that for?”

He grinned mischievously. “I’m hungry.”

You blinked, confused. “So you decided to eat my face?”

He chuckled, leaning in to peck your lips again. "That was just the appetizer." His hands trailed down your body, and when you felt him run his palm down your legs, you knew you were doomed.

"Spence," you warned, trying to give him your best glare but already melting into him as his fingers slid under your skirt. "I thought you wanted to have lunch."

"I do," he agreed, slipping inside the waistband of your panties. "And I am. I want to eat you."

You really needed to talk to him about his oral fixation—not that you minded, because honestly, you loved it when he went down on you. The problem was, he didn't always pick the right time or place.

Like that one time on a date when he begged to taste you, leaving your food cold when you returned from the bathroom, with the waiter giving you the stink eye you could feel the judgment in their gaze. And now he wanted to do it at work, with your friends practically in the next room.

"We can't—" you tried to protest, but your voice faltered as he nibbled on your earlobe.

"Shh," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I’ll be quick."

Before you could respond, his hand slipped further down, and you let out a gasp, clutching at his shoulders. His touch was electrifying, and you found it increasingly difficult to remember why this was a bad idea.

"We're going to get caught," you managed to say, though it lacked conviction.

"We won't," he murmured, and when his fingers brushed your arousal, he laughed softly, spreading your slickness up and down your folds. "You’re already so wet."

He grinned when he felt your hips thrusting and bucking upwards. He knew you were inviting him to give you more. The flat tips of his fingers begin to dip in your entrance teasingly. You wanted him. You needed him. He knew he had you right where he wanted.

"Spencer, please," you whispered, half in protest, half in desperation.

"Please what?" he asked, his voice husky. "Please stop? Or please don't stop?"

You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. "Please… just..."

He took that as encouragement, intensifying the pressure and speed of his movements. You clung to him, your knees weakening, your breath hitching in ragged gasps. Just when you felt you couldn't bear it any longer, he knelt before you, deftly sliding your panties down your legs. Any resistance dissolved as he gripped one of your legs, hoisting it up over his shoulder.

“Lift your skirt up.”

With trembling hands, you gathered the fabric and lifted it, exposing yourself fully to him. His eyes couldn’t help but rest on the sight, taking note of your swollen, aroused lips and how wet you already were. His fingers traced over your slick folds, teasingly brushing against your sensitive skin before lowering his head between your thighs.

The moment his tongue made contact, you were already lost in a haze of pleasure. Your head spun as nerves and excitement merged into a blissful frenzy in your mind. He teased up and down your slit, briefly dipping inside your dripping entrance before returning to focus on your swollen, aching clit.

"You taste amazing," he grunted, his voice thick with desire. His hands encircled your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as his tongue circled and flicked over your sensitive bud. He sucked lightly, causing you to hold your breath, before releasing it in a ragged gasp. Your hips bucked uncontrollably as you ran your hands through his hair, tugging on the strands, eliciting a deep, rough yet eager moan from him.

This was why he loved tasting you so much. He was addicted to your reactions, the way you whimpered and moaned, and the eager groans he made between your trembling thighs. He reveled in the sensation of your juices against his tongue, thrilled by the chance to please you and watch your legs quiver around him. He adored the way your voice strained when you called out his name, and how tightly you gripped the strand of his hair between your fingers.

He loved it all, making it clear as his tongue sped up, circling your clit even faster. Looking up at you, he saw you trembling, your gaze locking onto his wide, shining brown eyes as he continued to pleasure you. Each flick of his tongue, every gentle suck, drew you closer to the edge.

"Please," you cried out, fingers gripping his hair as you moved your hips against his mouth. "I'm so close," you gasped, your focus entirely on him, feeling the pressure of his tongue against your throbbing cunt.

He responded with a low, satisfied hum, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. The tension built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until you were teetering on the brink of release. Your breaths came in shallow pants, your entire body alight with anticipation.

He held onto your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as he expertly licked your folds, skillfully massaging your clit with the flat of his tongue. The way he moved, the way he tasted you, it was driving you wild. You could feel yourself spiraling, the tension building inside you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

With one final, skillful flick of his tongue, he pushed you over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering, your breath catching in your throat. You cried out, a raw, uninhibited sound of pure ecstasy, as the pleasure washed over you in powerful, crashing waves.

Spencer held you through it, his tongue never slowing, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were spent and trembling in his arms. Only then did he finally pull back, looking up at you with a satisfied, almost smug expression.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs.

You nodded, your breath still coming in shallow gasps. He rose to his feet, his eyes still locked on yours as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, his expression one of satisfaction and tenderness. He pulled you into a warm embrace, his hands gently rubbing your back as you steadied yourself, your legs still trembling slightly from the intensity of your release.

You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I can't believe we just did that," you said, your voice still shaky. "We could have gotten caught."

"The thrill of almost getting caught makes it even better, doesn't it?"

You groaned and swatted his chest. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Let's get you cleaned up before someone wonders where we are."

Nodding, you straightened your skirt and tried to compose yourself, though the lingering heat between your thighs was a constant reminder of what had just transpired. Spencer handed you your panties with a playful smirk, and you quickly slipped them back on, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.

As you both stepped out of the room, the hallway was thankfully empty. He kept a protective arm around your waist as he guided you back towards the bullpen.

"Where did you two go?" JJ asked the moment she saw you. "We just ordered takeout."

Spencer stepped slightly aside from you, but his arm remained reassuringly around your waist. "It's fine, I already had my lunch, anyway," he replied smoothly.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure, and returned to your desk as you ignored JJ’s stare. The slight blush on your face threatened to give you away, and you shot him a discreet but pointed glare.

"Yeah? What did you eat?" JJ asked, her curiosity clearly piqued.

"Oh, just something... incredibly satisfying," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. “Something I've been craving for a while."

You bit your lip, hoping the warmth in your cheeks wasn't too obvious as you met his eyes briefly, noting the smug look on his face.

You were going to kill him.

[tuesdayiminlove]

i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you) PART 2/3

where jamie seems to remember everything, and you're just trying to navigate a stitch on your crochet flower (jamie tartt x fem!reader)

part one

A/N: here's part two!!!!! link what yall think, im so grateful for the feedback of the first part, it's super encouraging <33 tysm. also this is NOT proofread oops

word count: 4.5k

When you arrive back inside your home, you’re heavy-breathing with a heartbeat erratic enough for your heart to pop out of your chest. You place your keys down, reaching into your jean pocket for your phone, placing the first call you can manage to muster up. 

Stevie is over within minutes, you think you might’ve heard her light jogging over to your house. 

Her heavy pants echo the room as she tries to muster up the words. “I just got back from work, and I fucking ran! Tell me the emergency immediately.”

“I don’t even know where to begin!” you say. “I mean, I was trying to make some creamy vegetable soup, but I didn’t even get to chop the tomatoes, Stevie! The fucking tomatoes! I—“

“Okay, begin by getting the point, babe." She walks to your kitchen, you following close behind. It doesn’t come to a surprise that she opens your refrigerator, most likely rummaging for the cucumbers and your chickpea hummus. “I love you, but if this is dire, I’m gonna need to know now.” 

You gather your thoughts as Stevie begins to look through your drawers for a knife. How do you even say it simply? “Jamie Tartt thinks I’m his girlfriend.”

Stevie drops the knife. 

In any other situation, you would scold her for doing something close to a hazard in the kitchen. But you understand her actions completely. If you were holding a flower pot when finding out this information, you’d drop that shit, too. 

“Continue before I absolutely freak the fuck out.”

That’s when you tell her about the call and the trip to the hospital. The words are coming out of your mouth at the speed of light, you’re surprised Stevie is managing to keep up. But she does, quietly chopping her cucumbers and dipping a few into the hummus. This is a more collected look than when she dropped the knife, but you’re sure the gears are turning in her head just as much as they are for you currently. 

“I just left his house and I told him I’d be back with—soup!”

You don’t wait to turn the stove back on, shuffling Stevie away from the center of the counter while you go back to cooking. 

She says your name slowly, eyes wide. “This is some romcom-movie-shit, babe.”

You fight a roll of your eyes. “This is real life!” you scold. “And the poor boy is concussed, probably mental!” 

“Mental for thinking he’s dating you? Have you seen yourself? You’re fucking magnificent.”

“Thanks,” you drawl, not in the mood for a compliment. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s just a bit bonkers right now, and I don’t know what to do!” You stir the pot stressfully, watching the ingredients mix around the broth. You’ve put a bit more ingredients, and added more broth to make sure that the serving is good for two, and for any leftovers Jamie may want. You think you’ll have enough to send Steve home with, as well. “The doctor said not to startle him, but I’m pretty fucking startled. So I don’t know how to not startle him when I’m not in the right state of mind! This feels so stupid.” 

“I think you should tell him the truth,” says Stevie. She’s right behind your shoulder, peering over at the pot. She takes a large whiff, and hums. “You making this for him?”

“And for you.” And me! 

“Ah,” she says. “I see. A little compensation so I don’t out you to the press, yeah? Nice thinking!”

“Not funny,” you drawl. It was never a thought that crossed your mind that Stevie would go out, telling people of your current entanglement with Jamie. She’s an editor for a magazine company, and she has a problem telling you all the tips she gets about local celebrities, always trusting you not to tell anyone anything. You don’t doubt that she’ll do the same for you. “So I should tell him the truth, then?” you ask, getting back to the main point of Stevie’s visit. 

“Mhm,” she replies. “Probably not today though, don’t you think? He’s overwhelmed enough as it is, he’s probably gonna be benched in Richmond’s next couple matches. That sad fuck is probably groveling as we speak. And he can’t even drink to cure the pain! … That’s how concussions work, right?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, don’t do it today. If I were you, I’d play it by ear, you know?”

You nod, having heard all of this from the doctor.

"And one more thing."

Stevie hums in questionn

“… He may have tried to kiss me.”

You think everyone in the neighborhood heard Stevie’s screech when she belts your name. 

It’s later in the day when you ring Jamie’s doorbell. You’d successfully shooed Stevie out of your house, convincing her that she does not need to spy on you from your kitchen window in case Jamie tries to make a move (“I’ll be there in two seconds, ready to make that concussion worse. Just say the word.”). And now you have the soup in two tupperware containers, as well some carrots and dip in your tote bag because that’s what Jamie originally always used you for, right? The familiarity will hopefully make him happy. 

When he opens the door, you’re not surprised to see all the lights are closed, as well as his curtains shut (so much for Stevie spying). The only thing you see that’s shedding artificial light is the lamp by his staircase, but even that looks as dim as it can be. 

“Hey, love,” he says groggily, a certain warmth to it that makes the nickname seem more intimate. He rubs his eyes as he moves to create room for you to come inside. “Sorry I took so long. Took a bit of a nap.”

“Oh,” you frown, concern taking over the nerves of his sudden pet names, “I’m sorry for waking you. I can just drop these off and head out, if you’d prefer?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. Come in.”

You enter apprehensively, though you’re trying your best to conceal it. This is the second time ever that you are in Jamie’s home. And it’s only been a day. The strangeness of that fact lingers in the air as you close the door behind you.

You trail behind him toward the kitchen, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood floors. Various football plaques litter the walls, as well as many, many photos of Richmond’s team.

“Why don’t you go sit down?” you say as you simultaneously take in his home. “I can prepare these myself and bring them to you.”

“Rubbish," scoffs Jamie, "I’m still mobile, and I’m not leaving my girlfriend to take care of me like you’re some sort of maid. I’m not bedridden.”

The word girlfriend, once again, catches you off guard, and your heart does a funny little stutter. You push it aside. “I just don’t want you to exert yourself,” you reason, brows furrowed. “You’re concussed, Jamie.”

“Who cares about that?” he jokes, waving off your concerns. 

Your jaw clenches. You want to say I care. Because this concussion is affecting you more than you fucking know. But you bite your tongue, and instead ask him where he keeps his bowls and silverware. 

Minutes later, Jamie and yourself are sitting on his couch. You took the liberty of sitting on the opposite end of his sofa, taking up as little space as possible. You’ve tucked yourself into the far corner, legs curled up slightly, trying to occupy as little room as possible. Jamie, on the other hand, lounges comfortably, his socked feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, though his posture is slightly more relaxed than it was earlier. You’d ask Jamie if it would be okay to crochet while you’re here, mainly so you can have something to do instead of sitting there awkward with today’s events before you. 

So, soup now resting on Jamie’s coffee table (you stop every few moments to take a bite), you’re intent on the rose petal you’re making with your yarn. Jamie alternates between eating his soup and watching you, his gaze unashamedly direct, though there’s a softness to it that makes your heart flutter despite yourself.

To anyone else, the scene might look endearingly domestic: the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the living room, him eating soup, you crocheting, the occasional exchange of lighthearted banter. But there’s an underlying element to it. You don’t want to tip-toe around Jamie, because you’re supposed to be acting natural and all, but it’s hard. 

“You’re the most thoughtful thing ever, you know that?” he says, after a minute of silence. 

Your hands pause mid-stitch, your eyes staying fixed on the delicate yarn in front of you as you decide how to respond, stomach churning nervously. “A ‘thing’?” you joke lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “How very gentlemanly of you.”

“You know what I mean!” chastises Jamie. 

Fighting the butterflies in your stomach as his words settle warmly around your heart.

“I do know,” you reply softly, finally glancing up at him. “Why do you say that?”

“The rose you’re knitting—“

“Crocheting.”

“Crocheting. Sorry, love. How many are you making for the old bloke’s grandson?”

The moment you take in Jamie's words, you pause, crochet hook in the air. “What?” 

Jamie looks confused. “Mr. Taylor? That his name?”

You shake your head, mind still reeling. “No, I know who you meant. How do you know I’m making this for his grandson?” You don’t recall telling that to Jamie when you initially mentioned what you wanted to do here. 

You currently have half of a rose petal done, wanting to make something special for Mr. Taylor grandson—Roman. The young toddler is allergic to flowers, getting all sniffly and itchy when you had brought over a hand-made flower arrangement for the Taylors (it had been their 37th wedding anniversary). But Roman had just kept looking at the flowers with such curiosity, despite his body’s affinity for them. When you had decided to take up crocheting (you wanted to make tiny plant plushies yourself—because why are stuffed plushies with cute faces on them so expensive these days?), one of the first things you learned was to make stuffed flower arrangements, just for when Roman would visit. 

How could Jamie possibly know that?

“Because you’re you,” says Jamie. Blush coats over his cheeks lightly when he averts his gaze from hers, hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“… And," he begins, "one day, I was in me car and I saw you walk over to the Taylors’ house with crochet roses. ‘Made it look like a nice arrangement, too. I wanted to ask you why you had fake flowers when you have fucking millions just in your front yard. Didn’t know if that’d sound weird, though, so…” he trails off, his words getting quieter, “So, I may have asked Mr. Taylor instead.”

You try to recall the memory Jamie spoke of. You do recall the last time you had headed over to the Taylors with the signature bouquet. Jamie had been at the front of his house, getting into his car. Of course she had noticed him immediately, spotting him just by her peripheral vision, but she hadn’t decided to spare him a look until she crossed the street to look back, but he had been preoccupied. She didn’t even think he saw her that day. 

That day had been nearly three months ago. 

Your mouth falls open. Jamie had noticed and asked about you that long ago?

Jamie glances at you nervously, mistaking your silence for something more negative. “I’m not some creep or anything, promise! I just—I dunno—I was curious! You’re always doing stuff like that.” 

You shake your head. “I just never knew you noticed,” you mumble, your nerves growing. Even now, he remembers. You wish you knew what that meant for you two; you wish that the suspicions and hopes in your brain are true. “Or asked.”

Jamie’s cockiness kicks back in at your flustered nerves. “Like I said, I’ve always noticed you. And now I get to be the luckiest guy.”

Your eyes meet his. For a moment, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that this is real—that this is the relationship you and Jamie have built together. That you’re a couple, and this is just one of those moments you get to stumble upon—a sweet realization that Jamie had liked you long before either of you dared to admit it.

You let yourself hold on to the fantasy, just for a moment.

It has to be just a moment... you think if you stare any longer at Jamie your body is going to take over and grab him for a kiss, just to know what it may feel like. You just know you shouldn’t.

“Four,” you say softly. “I’m making four for Roman.” You turn back to the stitch you had laid on your lap, trying to get out of your frenzie and into your zone. 

Jamie smiles, eyes still twinkling. “That’s his name? Roman?”

You hum. “He’s about to turn four. And he’s just the most adorable kid I’ve seen.”

“I’m being rude, aren’t I?" replies Jamie, "Prodding.”

Your head snaps up. “What? No.” You uncomfortably shift in your seat to hopefully look less odd. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I’m just… zoned out, I guess. Thinking a lot.”

“Yeah?” he says, staring at you intently. “What about?”

“Just… everything about today, I suppose.”

Jamie jokingly smiles. “Yeah, getting a call that your boyfriend got whacked in the head and is now concussed wasn’t really in your daily plan, was it?”

You let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t.”

“It got in the way of watering radishes, I bet.”

Again, you laugh more, your stomach moving steadily at the action. From the limited conversation you’ve had with him, paired with now, you’ve deduced that Jamie is just a complete pro for lightening up conversations. When your heart races nervously, a quip comes out of his mouth that makes your body go back steady. You don’t even think that this is an individual experience; he seems like he does it a lot. You wonder how that balance comes so perfectly in his life. 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “My gardening has to come to a pause today.” 

“It’s a shame,” he says, grinning. “Would’ve loved to see you in your cute sunhat, or the giant yellow gloves you always wear.”

Your eyes widen at his words. 

Seeing your shock, he adds, “You think I don’t notice these things? I always have.”

You try not to cough up the food you’d just digested. You would like to consider that Jamie is just making things up, but the description of your usual accessories when you’re out tending to your plants remain true. The giant yellow gloves belong to your mom, and there hasn’t been any reason to buy new ones if you’ve already got a pair. 

And the sunhat—well, it’s not everyday you’re seen out with it. It’s usually if the sun ever comes out, glaring at your eyes while you try to focus on a task at hand. You’ve probably brought it out maybe a couple of times since Jamie had moved in next to you; none of those times being as of recent. 

It’s a shock Jamie can even recall it. 

He remembers the little things. I always have. 

“Fuck,” he mutters softly. “Have I creeped you out? Don’t mean to sound like a prick, but I thought what I said was pretty fucking cute. But I understand if it’s creepy again. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, Jamie, I’m not creeped. ‘M kinda just shocked that you notice things like that.” 

He shrugs. “It’s hard to not pay attention. You live right beside me. And you’re you. It’s pretty fucking impossible for me not to notice things about you.”

Your heart is back to racing. All of Jamie’s confessions of things he’s noticed can only insinuate that he’s genuinely seen things about you, whether he had gotten hit in the head or not. They’re not fabricated in his mind from his belief that you two are dating. He’s not like Holy shit, do you remember that time we had dinner together? You think if he started recalling specific memories that never happened, you’d check him straight into the nearest mental institution. 

But he’s saying things that are so undeniably true; things he’s noticed about your being. 

If you aren’t already so conscious and confused of the actual problem at hand, you’d sit here and pretend that he’s yours—just as much as he claims to be. You wish this moment to be real, but it’s not. The sadness and guilt that weighs over you with that fact can overtake any other feeling in this moment. 

“Jamie,” you begin, “I need to tell you something.”

You think about Stevie’s advice, to not tell him today. The doctor saying not to overwhelm him. You know they’re right. You don’t want to. The poor bloke is probably already stressed enough as it is. You want to be here for Jamie, to help him get better because even with your limited experience around him, you care very deeply about his wellbeing. And maybe your feelings are skewed by the crush you’ve been harboring on him, but that’s hardly the point anymore. 

But how are you supposed to keep this up? Pretending to be someone you’re not, filling a role in his life that isn’t truly yours—it feels wrong, no matter how much you want to help him heal.

You don’t think you’re cut out for pretending. 

Jamie looks at you expectantly, a small smile on his face and your heart just breaks. 

“Jamie… I don’t know how to say this,” you admit, your throat tightening. “But I’m not your girlfriend.”

For a second, Jamie looks beyond confused. “The fuck? Did we break up?”

“I got the call today,” you explain gently, shrinking down into the sofa with a racing heart. “When I heard you were in the hospital, I was worried—God, I was worried—but I didn’t understand why they called me. And then Roy said… he said we’d been going out.” You bite your lip, carefully choosing your next words. “It made me realize something had gone wrong. That maybe you hit your head and got things mixed up.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, his brows knitting together as he processes your words.

“I wanted to do what was best for you,” you continue, your voice growing quieter. “Everyone kept telling me not to startle you, not to stress you out. But I can’t keep pretending we’re in a relationship when we’re not. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel honest. “I care about you, Jamie. I care about you getting better. But I can’t pretend, okay? I’m really, really sorry.””

It’s been nearly two days since you’ve seen or heard from Jamie. You’d practically bolted after your admission, your chest tight with guilt and your hands trembling as you no longer felt worthy of being in his home.

You hadn’t looked back, and he hadn’t stopped you.

It’s all you think about as you sit in the kitchen with your morning coffee, trying your best to catch up on the emails about work that have been piling up while you wallow.

Your work is interrupted when the doorbell rings. 

You immediately think it’s Stevie; she’s been wanting to see you since you had texted and said that you couldn’t even last the night without telling Jamie the truth. You purposefully left out the parts where Jamie pointed out the crocheting for Roman, and the gloves, and the sunhat, and Jamie just noticing you. God knows Stevie will be the first person to jump up and say he’s in love with you, and you’re not ready for that delusion in your head to be spoken out into the universe. 

Especially after Jamie has not spoken to you since. He’s probably freaked out, never wanting to speak to you for as long as he possibly can. 

You close your laptop and head to your front door, not even bothering to check who may be on the other end because—duh—it’s Stevie. 

Only, it’s not her. 

Instead, three boys stand on the opposite end of your door, gaping at you from the moment you lay eyes on them. 

They look vaguely familiar to you, and judging but the sweatsuits they’re wearing with the AFC Richmond logo, they’re Jamie’s teammates. You swallow your anxiety and give them a confused look.

“You’re real,” the man in the middle says, tall and broad with a commanding presence.. 

“Shut up, bruv,” the man to the right elbows the other. “We don’t even know if it’s her. ‘Could be the girl two houses down…”

“Mi amor,” says the final man, eyes light. His warm, melodic voice is unmistakably Spanish, holding up a bottle of wine like a peace offering. “What’s your name?”

You frown, wanting to ask so many questions when a shout intercepts the trio that has lined up at your door. 

“Oi!” 

They boys all turn, and you manage to peek your head out the door, to see Jamie stomping down the steps of his home, clad in sweats and… cow slippers? 

Despite the grumpy set of his face, the sight is almost endearing.

“Jamie!” the trio chorus in unison, like they’ve been caught red-handed.

“You didn’t answer the door,” one of them says, “we figured you’d be at your beautiful lady’s.”

“Don’t mean you can go knocking on doors of people you don’t fucking know,” huffs Jamie, finally reaching them. He doesn’t spare you a glance. 

The boys look ashamed. “We’re sorry, bruv,” says the tallest one, voice gruff and guilty. “Dani made Birria tacos, and Colin’s brought fuzzy socks. I just wanted to say sorry for whacking ya.”

Jamie’s eyes soften at his words. He sighs. “Thank you, mate. I appreciate it, I really do. But I stand by what I fuckin’ said. You can’t go knocking at random doors.”

“But it’s not random!” says the boy you’ve deduced to be Colin. For the first time since they’ve knocked, he turns to you in acknowledgement. “It’s lovely to meet you!” 

“The flowers are gorgeous,” says Dani, eyes g;azing dutifully at your front lawn. “And we apologize for the interruption.”

Jamie nods at them, like a mother watching over their child at the playground after a petty fight breaks out. 

You grin, awkwardness dissolvong. “It's okay. And—I love birria tacos, by the way. Good choice.”

Dani blushes. “I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t mind sharing it with his lady. Wouldn’t  you, Jamie?”

Jamie sputters, looking between the boys, and sparing you the first glance since he’s got here. His mouth opens, then closes. Repeatedly. 

“Um,” you interject, “I would much rather let Jamie enjoy it. Thank you, though!”

Isaac frowns. “That’s how you’re gonna treat your girl?” he grumbles at Jamie. 

“She said it!” argues Jamie. “Not me!”

Isaac shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about no chivalry these days, but he claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Alright, bruv, we’ll get outta your hair. Just make sure you enjoy the tacos. And, uh…” he glances at you with a cheeky grin, “Be nice to your lady, yeah?”

Jamie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Colin pipes up, “It was lovely meeting you!” His voice is warm and genuine, and he flashes you a smile before jogging after Isaac, who is already halfway down the steps.

Dani lingers a moment longer, holding out the wine bottle to Jamie. “You deserve this,” he says with a knowing smile, his gaze flicking between you and Jamie.

Jamie takes the bottle “Thanks.”

“And don’t worry, we won’t knock on any more random doors. Adiós, mi amigos!” Dani trots after the others.

And then it’s just the two of you.

“‘M really fucking sorry ‘bout them. I didn’t think they’d come knocking at your door when I decided to fucking ignore them.” He stares down at the endearing cow faces at his feet, sighing.

You shrug, a harmless smile tugging at your lips. Jamie looks awfully nervous, which you don’t understand. “Makes sense, honestly. And I don’t mind. Now that you’re here, though, I just wanna ask how you’re doing.”

He looks briefly surprised. “I’m doing alright,” he says eventually. 

“Okay, because I never intend to pry, but I’ve just been pretty worried. And—“

“You don’t need to pretend to care.”

The abruptness of Jamie’s cutoff has you wondering whether or not it actually occurred. His frown, however, only solidifies that those words did indeed come from his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” you reply, voice sharper than intended.

“Listen, I was a fuckin’ idiot and a borderline creep to you. When you left, I really thought about it and how fucked up that whole day was. I can’t imagine how it made you feel; being put into a position where you had to be in a relationship with me.”

You frown. You wonder now if this is why Jamie has chosen not to speak to you; if his guilt for the situation has kept him from reaching out. You refuse for that to be a reality. 

“Jamie, are you serious? I just wanted you to be okay! And that’s still what I want for you.”

His eyes peek up from his slippers to you. “… So you don’t hate me?”

You laugh. “I have no reason to hate you, Jamie.”

“You have every reason to believe that I’m a stalker-creep, by the way!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want me to see you as one?”

“Obviously fucking not!

“Then stop trying to drill it into my head!” you laugh. 

Jamie stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. Finally, he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, softened by the small. And, for the first time in days, the tension between you feels like it’s starting to ease.

“If it’s not obvious,” he begins awkwardly, “I like you. A lot.” He laughs at himself. “Enough to reach stalker status. And clearly my fucking fantasies wanted to take over with me fucking head… but I wanted to do it all the right way. ‘Kinda cheated didn’t I?”

For the first time in two days, the churning in your stomach isn’t anxiety, and instead something entirely more manageable. You grin at him, teasing, “Maybe a little.”

He huffs a laugh, the sound a mix of relief and something hopeful. His eyes meet yours, more sure now, though his voice remains gentle when he says, “I want to do it right. All of it. If you’ll let me.”

The way he looks at you—open, expectant, like he’s giving you the choice and trusting you to give the truest response.

Your smile says everything he needs to know.

(You already know Stevie’s going to lose her mind when you tell her.)