#case closed your honor

[doesoft-a]

look how pretty you are when you're about to come.

it was elena's own form of ecstasy when praise dangles off his tongue.

he usually makes quick work of a cloaking spell that kept them hidden long enough so that the ache she's been fighting and begging for release from unravels , or with guidance , knees scrape against the grit of the earth and he uses the hallow warmth of her throat as a personal deposit for his emissions.

something was different this time. it was building. and she so badly wanted to kiss him , but every time she leans closer there's a little error that flags in her brain. she keeps telling herself that she hates him and living behind that facade when they both know that's farthest from the truth. the truth rallies in the disheveled piles of clothes they managed to claw from each other in the heat of her ongoing tangent. the cavity of her chest heaves as her shaky breath slips past gritted ivories. his teasing was relentless. the image burns in the back of her mind of the way that girl he was dancing with draped herself over him , trying to envelop him whole as the haziness of his gaze never failed to catch elena's from across the room. she wasn't innocent either , batting her own lashes at the her lab partner , giggling at all his dumb jokes. resting her hand over his arm in an effort to preserve connection. but she didn't think that the smirk splayed on kai's face as whispers linger in the other's ear would affect her in the way it did. but it did , the pang in her chest was proof of that.

she'd been avoiding his eyes , knowing the second they locked gazes and the heat of his breath coats the side of her neck that it would be over. not that it wasn't already over then , but she was grasping onto this futile sense of control. it doesn't last long. the small ache between thighs was starting to feel overwhelming and the passive glances made towards him was having her feel like she was melting. in that moment it felt like something new formed. something , for now , she will not acknowledge.

peaking through the thick of her lashes she finally finds him , shuddering in his gaze , watching as that knowing grin curls along his pretty boyish features. she loved and loathed that grin so much. always an indicator that he knew he's won. and she hates losing.

she's gripping fingers in the plush rug beneath as his hushed tones instantly calm the thrumming of irritability. something in her grew sweeter and it wasn't long until she was handing him the reigns completely. the doppelgänger is pouting up at him , the warmth of her breath lingers as their faces feverishly hover over one another. fixated so intensely in their silent conversation that it breaks through the barriers between. plush lips parting and something soft emerges , ❛ kai . ❜ the desperation was luring and she knows its rewarded when she feels the lingering pads of his fingers delving deep within the sticky entrance of her tight little pussy. drawing languid motions to all the places that make her hips rock and shove against his palm. nimble hands tugging at the rug. her breath hitched in the cavern of her throat as the heaviness of her moans become too big for her mouth. wallowing in this moment long enough that he's tacky with her arousal and she was yearning to feel filled.

she releases fingers as she tugging strands from her face , chest raising and falling , following his gaze wherever it may leads as she squeezes tenderly around his slender digits. she's so frustrated , she wants more but is struggling to say the words. over sensitive and needy. ❛ i -- please , i want to -- aHh , feel you ❜ its so sweet and desperate , what wasn't doing well with words she's propping the the plump of cheeks up and grazing against his thighs to feel the swelling press against her. and she relishes in the precise moment his playful expression turns into something more sinister, something hungrier , releasing himself in one quick moment and sinking every inch deep within the warmth of silken folds , stretching her core with every deliberate pump of his hips. nimble digits sprawling over his arms , drawing back as she's eagerly trying to find somewhere to cling to. dragging nails over the small of his back and curling her legs around him as she clings to meet his rhythm.

her gaze is tied to his before catching herself slip , savoring every inch of him with subtle shame. and god she knows he loves to see the shame etched over her heated complexion. it feeds him. and it makes her sink further under him. hearing something of a chuckle dance along her cognize is how she recognizes she's been caught. it illuminates this anxious feeling inside of her , and as fast she's wandered , she's tugging her gaze so far from his and fighting the urge to shield her face completely so she didn't have to see the reflection of amusement glimmer in his eye.

and as she's writhing beneath him , he's pawing in the dip of her side and tugging her closer , sitting up her thighs spread wider , and he thrusts a little deeper , quivering as the walls of her core convulse around him , and she's panting and mewling and whimpering for release and she could feel herself starting to unravel. ❛ i'm - so fucking close , please. ❜ almost like she was asking.

look how pretty you are when you're about to come.

it was elena's own form of ecstasy when praise dangles off his tongue. and he does make her feel so pretty when he's curling fingers around her throat. a force of restriction so ungodly you could almost hear angels weep within the resurgence of their carnal cacophony. the pressure applied kept her eyes trained and surrendered to him. in the way he was so demanding with attention , savoring - every. last. drop. until her whole body tenses , legs a vibrating mess as nails dig into the flesh of his back and clawing down it as she's erupting harder than she's ever come before. ❛ oh fuck , kai -- ❜

[ctrl-shift-conan-and-suzu]

Look at this bean, sticking to Shin’s side and making sure he’s okay. Literally adorable

[p-redux]

Had no idea cherylecheryl was bootsaucepunk but makes perfect sense as both are pathetic, nasty, malicious bullies. Thanks for the interesting info.

Hi, Anon. Sorry it took me a few days to put this together. This post is gonna be a long one. So, grab a beverage and get comfy.

For those who don't know, Tumblr blog Bootsaucepunk has been around for years and has cemented a reputation as a Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe hater. As far as her being the Instagram troll cherylecheryl, well, we know Bootsaucepunk's name is Cheryl. How do we know this? Because she OUTED HERSELF and her FULL NAME, Cheryl N. on her OWN, now deleted Twitter account. Everyone who was around back then knows Cheryl's last name, but I won't post it in its entirety since not everyone may know it. Cheryl doxed HERSELF, and I'll show you how down below, but I won't repost her last name for obvious reasons. After Bootsaucepunk revealed her own identity, of course, people easily found her info, including that she's from New Brunswick, Canada. But this is because SHE HERSELF posted her full name and a pic of herself on her Twitter account. Here's the backstory of how she DOXED HERSELF a few years ago...

Bootsaucepunk gloated that she would repeatedly harass Sam on social media, he would block her, and then she'd create new accounts. She also badmouthed Caitriona Balfe, her husband, Tony McGill, and bragged that Cait blocked her too. On the left side of the screencap below, you can see her as Bootsaucepunk talking about Sam reporting her to Twitter, Twitter suspending her accounts, and then she would create new ones. She even joked that she's playing "whack a mole" with Sam. Harassing Sam and Cait is a GAME to her. On the right side of the screencap, she posts a LONG diatribe talking crap about Cait, after Cait blocked her. 👇

Bootsaucepunk continued to boast that Cait blocked her and showed the proof of this. 👇 I've also attached the PROOF that Bootsaucepunk is Cheryl N., provided by HER. 👇 You can see that Bootsaucepunk is asked by another hater, Cant-Resist-Temptation, what Bootsaucepunk Tweeted that caused Cait to block her on Twitter. And Bootsaucepunk replied by posting what she said to Cait WORD FOR WORD. Basically, Cait blocked her for talking shit about her husband, Tony McGill. The thing is those EXACT words were posted on her real life Twitter account, CherylN_____89 (now defunct). 🤦‍♀️ Either she didn't think people would make the connection, or she was so arrogant she thought no one would call her out. (Click on the screencap to read it better). Oh, and notice in the second paragraph, Bootsaucepunk takes the opportunity to continue to talk negatively about Cait.

Let me show it again so that everyone is VERY CLEAR that Bootsaucepunk posted on Tumblr the Tweet that got her blocked by Caitriona Balfe (she's responding to another hater, its-mootpoint). 👇

And it is VERBATIM what Cheryl N. posted on her then Twitter account! 👇

AND Cheryl/Bootsaucepunk was either dumb enough, or arrogant enough, or both to post it on her Twitter account with her FULL NAME and REAL PICTURE. 🤦‍♀️

After that, everyone in the fandom knew EXACTLY WHO Bootsaucepunk was on Tumblr. Bootsaucepunk tried to say that the pic she used on her Cheryl_____89 Twitter account wasn't really her. But, after she posted her full name, the fandom had no problem finding her on social media. 👇 Obviously, the avi pic on her old Twitter account is from YEARS ago, so she looks younger, but the pic matches her Facebook account. There is NO denying it's the same Cheryl N. And I have other pics of Cheryl N. from N.B., Canada proving this. But Tumblr only lets you post 10 pics or collages total. I'm not posting her full face, she did that all on her own, but trust me, it matches the pic SHE POSTED as her avi on her CherylN_____89 account. Same face, same person, no room for doubt. Bootsaucepunk IS 100% Cheryl N. from New Brunswick, Canada.

Again, this is NOT ME doxing her, SHE handed her identity to the fandom on a silver platter...and MANY other people in the fandom then called her out publicly as Cheryl N., and as a Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe hater. Here is just a small sample. 👇

Cheryl deleted her CherylN_____89 account on Twitter, but we know the approximate date when she posted the Tweet that got her blocked by Cait...because another person responded to her on February 12, 2020, calling her out for the Tweet. And also chastising for touting herself as a journalist. 👇

Guess WHO else was stirring the pot, harassing Sam, right around the SAME TIME on Instagram? 👇 Instagram troll, cherylecheryl commenting on an Instagram post, stating that besides trolling Sam on Instagram, she would also troll Sam on Twitter. That particular cherylecheryl comment was dated March 20, 2020. And CherylN_____89 was called out on Twitter by the account Fans of Sam Heughan on the SAME DAY--March 20, 2020!

Instagram troll cherylecheryl has DIRECTLY harassed and bullied Cait, Tony, Sam, and EVERY woman Sam has ever dated. This is well documented for YEARS. But here's just a small sampling of cherylecheryl harassing Sam's ex, Anna Modler and most recently, the Brazilian fan who got a pic with Sam in London, and inadvertently posted a video of Sam and rumored current date, Sarah Holden. 👇

And those are the MILD comments, she's said some horrible stuff to Sam's ex, Mackenzie Mauzy, Gia Marie, as well as many others.

Something else that's of note. An ex-shipper who got sick of Cheryl's bullying, DMed me and showed me cherylecheryl's Instagram account and something very interesting on it. Here's the content of cheryelcheryl's Instagram account. 👇 It's all faux shippery Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe pics. Fake, fake, fake, fronting as a shipper, yet we KNOW all the crap she's said to Sam and Cait, and about them. The cognitive dissonance is staggering. And she also follows all the hater accounts that mock Sam's dates and Cait's husband, Tony. Her oldest post is dated January 10, 2022, in it, she attacks another fan, she attacks actress Hannah James directly, and boasts the fan blocked her. BUT, if one checks her account info, it shows the account was started in March of 2018! It's not logical that she created an account in 2018 and didn't post anything until 2022. No posts at all for 4 years? NOPE, she obviously posted from 2018 to 2022, and then DELETED posts that would identify her as Cheryl N. This is also why the account shows she's changed her username 2 times. Lemme guess? Was it originally CherylN_____89? 🤔😊 👇

For those saying cherylecheryl isn't Bootsaucepunk, um, I just PROVED to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bootsaucepunk IS Cheryl N. And Cheryl N. has an extensively documented history of saying horrible things about Caitriona Balfe, her husband, Tony McGill, Sam Heughan, and EVERY woman he's ever dated. Cherylecheryl on Instagram has an extensively documented history of saying horrible things about Caitriona Balfe, her husband, Tony McGill, Sam Heughan, and EVERY woman he's ever dated. And I showed you in a screencap above that cherylecheryl on Instagram talked about going go harass Sam Heughan on her Twitter account. Just like Cheryl N. aka Bootsaucepunk. Gee, what are the odds that there's another Cheryl who's a horrible troll and isn't Cheryl N. aka Bootsaucepunk? C'mon, now.

Regardless, there is NO doubt WHO Bootsaucepunk is = Cheryl N. And not only is she a Sam hater, but she's also a Cait hater. Let that be known to newbies who aren't aware of the history. I'm shown accounts who claim to be Cait fans but they associate with Sam hater accounts who interact with Bootsaucepunk, comment on her posts, let her comment on their posts, and mutually reblog. In your disdain for Sam, you're inadvertently commiserating with a Caitriona Balfe and Tony McGill hater.

So if the hill you want to die on is proving that Bootsaucepunk on Tumblr isn't cherylecheryl on Instagram, that's on you. BUT, do not forget that Bootsaucepunk IS a PROVEN Cait hater. There are MANY other examples of her hate toward Cait, but the ones I showed you up above should be enough to distance yourself from her. Make NO mistake, Bootsaucepunk hates Sam Heughan AND Caitriona Balfe, and has gloated about her disdain for them BOTH for YEARS. There's no justifying or excusing Bootsaucepunk/Cheryl N.'s behavior and anyone who associates with her is guilty of condoning such behavior.

I rest my case, your honor. Case closed, Edith.

[crybabycunt]

(during a crazy high speed chase, helicopters overhead)

Yelena: You said I can do whatever I need to, right? So, I'm just going to do it.

(Yelena drives straight through the front doors of The Met)

Kate: We're definitely going to be on the news.

Yelena: No shit.

[luv4lain]

keep describing peoples eyes in detail king!!

[caffeinatedopossum]

Trying to make a decision and it's funny that I'm hesitant cause if I decide that yes, I will do the thing, then it changes next to nothing except that I might feel a little happier

[kreepja]

*Sigh* time to rewatch the clash of red and black arc.

Context: I WANNA THIRST OVER AKAI SHUICHI AGAIN

[s-une]

ven !! you're making me want to add oscar isaac to the list of men that i am absolutely in love with and this is so unfair bc why is he so hot ? why ?? i am done 😮‍💨

As you should! 🫣 you should do it, 100%, i mean. Come on, look at this man. Look at his curls and his hands and how pretty he looks now that his gray hair is growing, and have you ever heard him sing or speak Spanish? Heart eyes

[malnivia]

Someone in our group: *Makes funny faces, jokes about their body and makes people smile

Me: U, my dear, are a national treasure

[twpsyn-who]

"Why did you choose to join the Scouts, anyway?" it was a question that has been bugging Stiles for awhile now, ever since that night.

"I mean, don't get me wrong-" he began before Derek could get any words out, "- but you never made any indication that you would join Scouts. It doesn't make sense, you're in the top ten. The Big Ten. You know, the elite ones who get the secret third option?? Why not join Lydia and finally live an easy life? If I were you- like, with your life story and everything not just your body and flexibility which, by the way, should be illegal- I would have chosen that. Give myself a break, you know?"

It wasn't until then that Derek regarded Stiles with his attention. There was something in his eyes, an intensity that Stiles would sometimes catch glimpses of any now and then but it has never been pushed so forward into his hands. He could barely breathe while looking into them, getting lost in the forest that was hiding inside Derek Hale's eyes.

"Everyone I care about is going there." the answer came so nonchalant from him, like the confession wasn't life changing. But Stiles found his answer not in his friend's words, but while finding his way out of Derek's eyes.

"Because you're going" it went unsaid, locked deep inside the greens and the browns. In the way the eyes softened for a moment when he said 'care' and tried to break contact on 'going there' before thinking better of it. In the little frown while saying 'everyone', like that wasn't the right word but he didn't- or couldn't?- say anything else.

And Stiles? Didn't know what to do with that confession. With the knowledge that Derek gave up everything just to stay stuck with skinny, defendles, most likely to end up Titan food during his very first expedition outside the walls, Stiles.

Because Stiles was ready to die just for an eclipse of freedom, but was he ready to take Derek with him?

[ctrl-shift-conan-and-suzu]

At this point I think Heiji might have a bigger crush on Conan than anyone else lol

Also, can anyone back me up when I say that they are literally brothers?

[mackjlee9]

HA JOKES ON YOU I LIKE TO BE MANHANDLED

YOU ARE GORGEOUS

Well I like manhandling- I mean what?

I. AM. NOT.

YOU ARE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND CHARMING

[ryutarotakedown]

[ID: The header is the words "Final Round" in flaming capitals. The pictures show Shoe and Wagahai from Ace Attorney on one side, and Jiji from Kiki's Delivery Service on the other. End ID]

Shoe + Wagahai (Ace Attorney) vs Jiji (Kiki's Delivery Service)

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Opened the curtains for a bit to let them get some sun and this led to that.

[wileycap]

Selected Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook

Or: Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko

1. Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko should not be referred to by his full titles and styles, no matter the context. This appears to annoy him. "Fire Lord Zuko" and "Lord Zuko" are acceptable, as well as "your majesty" and "my Lord".

1.1 "Lord Hotman", however, is unacceptable.

1.2. Even if the Avatar specifically requests you to address Fire Lord Zuko as that.

1.3. In fact, any attempts by the Avatar, the Lady Beifong, the honorable Tribesman Sokka or even Master Katara to get you to address Fire Lord Zuko by anything other than his proper title should be disregarded.

1.4. Referring to Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.) as "The Loser Lord", however, is acceptable.

2. Fire Lord Zuko is aware of the concept of mortality, but does not seem to understand how it relates to His Majesty. Following activities should be discouraged: Free climbing, glider usage, contact with exotic animals larger than a turtleduck (or smaller, if the animal is known to be venomous), amateur theatre productions, cooking, sailing, spelunking, botany, please see full list in the Matron's office.

2.1. It should be noted that His Majesty's belief that mortality does not apply to him does not appear to be completely unfounded. After several "close calls", it has been decided that upon his demise, Fire Lord Zuko should lie in state for at least two weeks.

2.1.1. We do not want another incident.

3. The turtleducks in the Western Pond do not need to be fed by the servants any more.

3.1. However, the turtleducks should be rotated out at regular intervals in order to prevent overfeeding.

4. At any official social functions, at least three servants should be vigilant in case His Majesty tries to tell a joke.

4.1. It should be noted that there is no concern for His Majesty's jokes being offensive, crass or otherwise contrary to good taste. They are simply very bad. His Majesty always ends up embarrassed.

5. Any children left unattended in the Royal Palace for more than 15 degrees can be retrieved from the Fire Lord's office.

6. Should His Majesty go missing, the following places should be searched: roofs and any high places, cellars and secret passages, the fur of the Avatar's sky bison (which is surprisingly deep), and every place that an ordinary five-year-old would think to hide in during a game of "Hide and Explode."

6.1. All of the Imperial Firebenders as well as any soldier who wears a mask during the course of their duties should be questioned.

6.1.1. Important note: Some of the soldiers who are especially close to His Majesty can perform a passable imitation of him. Efforts should be made to prevent an uneducated soldier from, say, conducting a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture.

6.2. After the recent incident, that list is expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors and any other groups that might wear concealing full face paint.

6.3. If all of these measures prove ineffective, a letter should be sent to The Dragon of the West, Prince Iroh, asking His Highness to return His Majesty.

6.4. If a ransom note is delivered, it should be immediately checked against the handwriting samples from the honorable Tribesman Sokka as well as Avatar Aang, before any other actions are taken.

6.4.1. Replying "Good luck, he's your problem now" to a ransom note is absolutely unacceptable.

6.4.1.1. To further drive home the point, the Royal Archives are required by law to preserve every single piece of royal correspondence. That thing will end up in a museum.

This handbook will be updated should it prove necessary.

[burymagdalene]

Covetous Cravings - S. Reid x Reader

Spencer finds himself sulking around in jealously for the first time after you regrettably tell him you have plans for the night. When surprising him with your presence later, Spencer realizes just how badly he missed you while he was away.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smuttttt...... (18+ pls pls) tags: Whiny & desperate Spencer, he's just very eager to please. virgin Spencer, munch!spencer, head (fem!receiving), coital takes place on Spencer's pretty Persian rug, jealous Spencer, fingering, heavy make out session, nipple play, handjob, panty sniffing, Spencer's POV! Dirty dirty dirty wc: 5.3k a/n: I've written "Spencer" so many times it doesn't sound like a name anymore. I saw this tweet and was inspired to write something related to the carpet picture. That's all. I don't even think of you that often.

Cold water washes over Spencer's tired eyes and rolls slowly down his wrists to the bottoms of his sleeves (that he rolled up to avoid getting them wet, annoyingly) as he frantically tries to wash away a strange sour feeling in his gut.

Upon looking into his mirror he gazes over the 5 o’clock shadow he’s garnered over the few days spent away in a small town in Delaware. He pulls in his lips and rubs over it with his finger tips. He doesn’t have the energy to shave it right now.

Spencer is currently harbouring a bit of a sourpuss persona, he knows this well. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than expected, leading him to message you as soon as he could about heading back to D.C. and seeing you again.

To his dismay, when he got off the plane and checked his crummy silver Nokia, that you’ve giggled at a fair share of times, the response he receives from you is… that you’re… busy?

Something about a group of friends at a late night cafe/bar getting together, he didn’t read all of it, pouting so much that he just closed his phone. Spencer is aware you had these plans before he asked to see you. Spencer is aware that he’s back from Delaware earlier than expected. Yet he’s still over his sink, face wet and cold, grumbling about your social life.

The two of you have been together for a couple months now, it’s extremely new, he knows you wouldn’t drop everything upon his arrival, but the whole plane ride home he imagined your ideas around hanging out once he got back. He got his hopes up too high.

He begins to reflect a bit, maybe a better word would be spiral, as he wanders back into his bedroom and unpacks his go bag. I shouldn’t be feeling lousy right now, he thinks. We’ve been dating for 2 months and 3 days, he had missed your two month anniversary while he was away. He couldn’t even text you that day because he was too busy. Should he even text about anniversaries like that? He’s so new to this he has no clue. 

Considering your dating timeline now he starts to worry. He’s inexperienced, almost completely… no, yeah, actually completely. He sighs.

You have been over twice, by all the beautiful luck he might have fostered in a past life, he has had the spine-tingling honor to have made out with you those two times as well. After a handful of museum and bookstore dates, even visiting your apartment once, the first time you shared a kiss was when he was showing you Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge, attesting it was substantial to the gangster film genre. 

When he felt your eyes against the side of his face during the best part of the film, he took a double take at you, seeing an unreadable expression in your eyes. He cringes at the memory of his confusion.

“Th-this part is really good… Pierre’s use of cinematic synecdoche here is perfectly timed compared to–” 

You had leaned in closely and started kissing along his jaw as he fumbled through the rest of his explanation till he tapered off into a whimper that was sealed with a kiss planted on his lips. He even reached to the coffee table in front of him while you were kissing to pause the movie, not wanting you to miss anything.

Spencer groans a bit at the memory, a little embarrassed, he now would recognize the signs you were displaying easier. He’s jealous of his past self, having you to himself so unabashedly. He’s jealous of his past time spent with you and he’s jealous of your friends right now who are hearing your laugh and smelling your perfume all night.

He sighs and flops down on his back to his bed. Spencer does not feel jealous often. He feels completely rotten and out of sorts. He thinks, maybe if he would’ve kissed you more suavely that first time you would’ve dropped your plans now. Maybe if he translated the French into English for you in a more sultry voice you’d skip out on a coffee with your friends. Maybe–

Spencer hears a faint knocking on his front door. He looks over at his alarm clock, 12:12 a.m., hm. He’s hallucinating for sure. Like a lonely old man who hears his late wife’s voice in the dark of his haunted halls–

Another tentative knock. 

He leaps up from his bed and races over to the front door with his legs moving so fast he feels like he’s in Looney Tunes. His heart starts pounding as he looks through his peephole to see a small blurry version of you shifting on your feet. He scrambles to unlock his door and swing it open. 

“Hi!” You smile at him, smelling like strong coffee mixed with whatever lactonic and spicy fragrance you usually wear that curls his toes. You step forward and give him a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. This springs him into action, wrapping his arms around your waist he mutters out a “wow” against your shoulder. Like he just won a sweepstakes. 

You pull away a bit, but Spencer's arms stay around you. “Is it okay I’m here? You never responded to my texts.” You give him a shy smile and he realizes as he was grovelling he didn’t open his phone again after you said you had plans for the night. 

“Yes! Yes,” he clears his throat… be suave. “Of course. Um. Was just thinking about you, ha. Come over whenever. Yea. Even if I say I’m busy, come over still, haha.” Shit. 

“Ah. Okay, noted. I missed you too, Spencer.” You giggle a little at him and walk into the apartment, leaving him to shut the door behind you. “What were you thinking about?” You muse. 

“Ummmm. Le Cercle Rouge.” Spencer clears his throat again. IQ slashed to 60. 

“The Le Cercle Rouge incident, right.” You laugh again and look over at where he’s standing with a blank face. “Oh. Are you sure it’s okay that I'm here? I know I said I was busy, so I’m sure you’re ready for bed now, especially after the case. Did that go well?” His blank expression has made you nervous, he notices, though he was just considering again the feeling of his neck being kissed for the first time in 24 years. 

“Please stay. A while, too. I’m not tired.” A pause with long eye contact. “The case went surprisingly well, hence the early arrival.” 

The curve of your lip pulls up in a smirk and he sees he’s convinced you fully now. You bend down and unzip the sides of your brown high rise boots, leaving you in your black tank top, skirt, and now kneehigh socks that create a monochromatic wet dream for Spencer. Though this isn’t a dream, he shakes his head from side to side to get rid of the distracting thoughts.

“Good.” You sit down fully on his red carpet now, trying to pull your last boot off. “You know, you were a really short walk from the coffee shop, I’m surprised you’ve never been. As soon as you texted you were back I kept trying to slip away as politely as possible.” You talk while struggling with the shoe.

Spencer takes a deep breath in and meets you on his carpet, sitting on his knees to pull the boot off of you, which was incredibly easy. You were pretending to struggle with it on purpose. Once removed, he sits back against his heels and pushes your knees together by your ankles.

“You walked?” He mumbled back. He would’ve picked you up. He should’ve just checked his phone, told you to have a good night like a proper boyfriend. 

“Mm, like five minutes. No worries.”

“Its midnight- I. I can always pick you up.”

You whined your response, “But you weren’t answering your phoneeee.”

Spencer rubs his face with his hands, covering his smile a bit and feeling his skin heating up. “I’m very glad you showed up anyway. Even if it scares me you walked alone this late,” he glances at you leaning back against your hands, knees still pulled together. “You look very pretty.”

“Really? Thanks. I thought so too. About you, I mean. You’ve got a little 5 o’clock shadow right now, you look really handsome.” You smile and let out an airy laugh. Spencer subconsciously rubs his face again. He’s not sure when these jittery feelings will go away, if they ever will. One compliment from you and he’s feeling a blush coming from inside of him stretch over to his skin. 

He remembers his petulance earlier, his flair for the dramatics. Whining over people other than him seeing you, cursing his past self for awkward conversations, so he leans over onto his hands and knees and kisses your lips. 

You hum against his lips, knees together against one of his sides, happy at Spencer's first time initiating a kiss between you. You sit up off of your hands now  so they can cup his face and pull him firmer against you. Taking one of his wrists from where he’s planted on the floor to the other side of you, you guide him to slowly hover over you. 

Spencer can’t help but let out a tiny noise, a moan, against you as his palms dig uncomfortably into his carpet. He feels you lean back against your elbows and swing one of your legs to the other side of him. Now, you are pressed flat against the carpet, legs on either side of his waist. Spencer slowly moves so he’s on top of your frame, elbows crowning your head.

Both times Spencer has had the pleasure of tasting you like this you have been straddling him on his couch. This is the first time that he’s been able to lay on top of you and feel his hip bones dig into you and your legs around him.

Woah. Your legs are wrapped around him, just like how he’s dreamed of having you in his bed. Legs squeezing helplessly around him as he buries himself in you. Feeling your chest against his as you arch up into him. He lowers one hand to trail it up from your shins covered in your knee highs that make him faint to your hip.

He pushes his crotch down a bit from where it was against yours, making it so the hard-on he’s now sporting is against the floor now. He remembers the visceral feeling of you kissing his neck. Immediately he’s moving down to return the favor. What starts in soft kisses escalates quickly to sucking and laving against your skin, face buried into the source of his wildest dreams, your perfume. 

Your hands are carding through his hair right now, nails scratching at him softly and he has to position himself a bit closer to the ground now to rub off some built up tension his cock is begging for. This is usually where you part.

Face buried in your neck he’s smelling your intoxicating scent and moaning against the skin. He feels like a wild animal smelling a pheromone filled scent gland. Spencer realizes briefly where he is and pulls up from your neck to stare down at your face.

Hair haloing around you, you’re feverish and pressed against the Persian rug he spent his first big paycheck on. You have a bit of mascara smudged under your eyes and the lamps scattered around his living room are highlighting you in a way so beautiful he moans out again softly. No friction, no kissing, just by looking at you.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he traces the line of your neck up and down softly with the tips of his fingers. “I almost drowned in my sorrows before you knocked on my door.” He leans back down and chuckles against the skin of your neck.

You don’t have exactly the same romantic thoughts in mind as you gasp out for the first time since he’s laid on you, “You feel so good against me, Spence. Wanted this so bad,” he stops kissing, breathing lightly against your neck as you continue. “Can’t believe I haven’t pulled you on me sooner.” He’s blinking silently hidden in the corner of your neck. He acts on a whim and bites down lightly against where your neck and shoulder meet and you squeal. 

Spencer was not prepared for the blazing eye contact he’d be met with once pulling away to look at you. Your tank top has ridden down, the top of your pink bra showing a bit and your hair is drastically more disheveled than when you arrived. He can feel his heart in his throat. He has to keep making you let out that sound.

You seem to notice his brazen eyeline and you take one hand to pull the neckline of your top down a bit, exposing most of the bra covering your breasts that are only slightly spilling out from all your wiggling. Spencer shuts his eyes like he’s in pain, but he’s actually moving his hips up and away from the floor so he doesn’t come in his pants right then and there.

A completely new and formidable heat spreads over him and into his loins. Never in his life has Spencer trembled with anticipation in this way. His skin is on fire and he’s struck with the overwhelming need to make you the happiest person in this world. He wants to have you shiver and shudder completely against his apartment floor, he wants to hear every moan and grunt until your voice gives out. He wants to fuck you with his mouth.

“Gah-God, baby,” Spencer moves himself away from you so that he’s kneeling between your open thighs, rubbing the outsides of your legs as he looks into your eyes. “My mouth. Um, can I use my mouth?” He lets out a shaky breath at the image.

You bite your lip softly at him, he feels like he just licked the screen on one of those old staticy TVs he used to have. “Use your mouth for what?” You half play coy and half ask in earnest, not wanting to jump to conclusions since you and Spencer have never taken off many layers together.

“I want to use my mouth to make you cum.” His face flushes immediately, your eyes widen in shock. He drags his sight down to where you lay in front of him. Legs spread open and skirt ridden up giving him an obscene upskirt of your underwear for him. Also black. He keeps his eyes there as you reply.

“Yeah. Please, please-” he whips his head up to look at your face again to engrain the image of you unkempt and nodding a desperate yes into his memory. He lightly reaches out between your thighs to briefly feel the bottom of your panties. He’s barely thinking, his first instinct was to gauge how wet you are, to compare it to how you’re going to feel later. You gasp sweetly and he moans in response, untouched, again.  

With this searing hot permission Spencer gets hit with a strong pietistic devotion towards you. There is literally nothing in his life that has mattered more to him right now than how the gusset of your panties stick onto you and that his tongue can finally be given the task he has thought about constantly since knowing you. 

The anxiety Spencer was expecting as a result of his inexperience is completely overthrown by a perfectly instinctual autopilot setting he falls into. The excitement of making you feel good, you letting him touch you in such a profound way completely overshadows the doubt of his expertise. 

Not that he’s completely clueless. Erotica classics hide in his bookshelves, copies of Anaïs Nin’s short stories, the detailed counts of female pleasure derived from biology books, decent sex education stemming from the countless hours he’s poured into literature. He’s fairly in tuned to what generally makes people crumble, he just has to try it out himself. 

Spencer starts at the top again. The push and pull between him and eating you out the way he’s craving will have to drone on a little longer as he starts kissing along the exposed skin of your breasts, not wanting to leave anything unkissed. How rude. 

You outstretch your neck to him and slide the tank top off yourself, leaving just your pink lace bra that's covering little of your nipples. Spencer fingers the straps briefly while taking in the sight of you. He cannot believe the cosmic circumstances that have led him to this moment.

“D’you like?” you mumble while watching him eye-fuck you. He almost feels sorry for how he’s watching your chest rise and fall but the way his dick is pulsing under the confines of his underwear allows for little words.

In fact, his hips kick a twitch forward at the sound of your voice. A siren song as old as time. 

“MmmIwanna,” Okay. Form words. “I wanna-” he pities himself enough to give up on that one and kisses along your chest again.

“Do what you want to. I want to feel you everywhere… I want you to touch me.” You seem to understand his dilemma. A once articulate tongue falls flat in such a frenzied situation. 

Spencer palms your tits through your bra properly now while kissing you sloppily. He feels the friction of the lace against his palm and your hardened nipple receiving the rough friction from it as well. He picks up on your whine against his lips and pulls your bra down by the middle of it, exposing your chest fully. 

You gasp against his lips and move your tongue against his as a thanks. Spencer lets out a tiny “ah” from the back of his throat when your tongues meet. To regain composure he takes the nipple he was palming through lace earlier and rolls it between his middle finger and thumb, it’s your turn to kick your hips up for friction now. 

He decides to lower his hips against yours fully for the first time, desperately searching for that debauching pleasure that he was avoiding earlier. His dick rests nicely under your belly button and you bite his bottom lip when he’s fully settled against you, he feels sort of proud. 

Feeling your body completely pressed against him in this way makes him mourn every second he’s been with you and not made you moan in happiness like he is now. Wishing that the pesky virginity he’s carried with him this long will be taken by this angel underneath him right now. His cock twitches against you at the thought of it.

He stops fiddling with the nipple and instead moves to hold one of your hands with his as his other hand moves to rub your neglected nipple. He subtly grinds a long and slow rhythm against where you two are pressed together and you make a curious noise, a full moan caught before getting let out. Nudged in your throat as you hold it in.

Spencer thinks for a moment and smiles at the realization that it sounds almost exactly like how you hold back a laugh in your throat. A small and choked out “hngh” high pitched before its snuffed out. He thinks of any future endeavors where he gets to hear you hold back a laugh in a quiet museum or library from one of his stupid jokes. With this comparison he’s going to be pathetically hard in so many more inappropriate situations now.

“Please, can you please take my panties off.” You mewl gently, almost as if you’re worried he will refuse, and break him out of his thoughts. Spencer nearly forgot how lost in his head he was while methodically rubbing your sensitive breasts and grinding against you. 

“Pretty girl, I’m sorry.” He really is, he never wants you to feel so desperate you have to beg for him to touch you, but without interference he could probably sit for eight hours straight playing with your tits to see if you could come from it. He whines out loud at the thought. “I will, of course, I will.”

The feeling of him peeling himself off you feels tortuous. However, it is very much a high risk, high reward scenario when he looks down between your thighs again to see a wetter fabric clad to your hips. Spencer leans towards you, pushes your socks down slightly to kiss the tops of each of your knees. You giggle and he nips the inside of your leg slightly. 

It’s dizzying, the experience of pulling your panties down for the first time. Every night where he has sloppily fucked his fist thinking of your smile lines and pretty hands, every evening after you’ve left his apartment well kissed has finally led to this life altering moment.

Your panties have been slid off and he’s got an iron grip on them as he’s staring at you fully exposed, the translucent liquid smudged around your cunt. He’s trying incredibly hard to not push them up to his nose and inhale, he thinks he’s done enough animalistic sniffing and grunting at you tonight. He places them neatly on the couch instead. 

“Baby, Spence, you’re a voyeur.” You laugh at his staring gently, he assumes 25% of this experience for you has been watching him stare bug eyed at every inch of skin you’ve surrendered. He lays down flat on his tummy, sucking in air through his teeth as his dick presses against his carpet through his slacks again. “Feel sensitive, that feels like a lot?” You ask softly down at him. He flushes, embarrassed a little that you notice him the exact same way he notices you. Spencer pinches his eyebrows together and nods.

“Feels.. real good though.” He laughs gently at himself as you groan and rest your head back down on the carpet at how sweet he is.

He wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs to pull your pussy closer to him, your skirt riding up to your belly in the process. He feels you squirm a little under his arms and kisses the skin above your hip flexors softly.

His heart skips a beat when he’s up close to you, a sliver of doubt creeping up along with the immeasurable need to make you feel good. Spencer takes his tongue out and licks a broad stripe up from right below your opening to above your clit. This is more for himself, actually. He wants to taste every single drop you expelled from him kissing and touching you, it’s what he deserves.

Spencer's arms immediately have to resist against your thighs moving shut, using a bit of his strength to keep you open as he does it again. This time he moves his head slightly side to side. The whine he hears coming from your lips makes him take one arm away without thinking to hold your lips open and wraps his lips around your clit.

The open window you get without one arm suspending your leg allows you to close one thigh to the side of his face while the other is still pried open by him. He continues to suck gently, pulls away and lifts up the skin covering your clit, kisses it softly, you let out a pitiful sobbing noise and Spencer sucks your clit again, rolls it between his lips.

You help him out by taking your other thigh away from his face and holding it up yourself. “Wh-who taught you to do this?” You squeak out giving him a sense of confidence he’s been desperately striving for. Spencer cannot bear to part from your cunt to reply so he just hums lowly against you, hoping that you get his message of I daydream about doing this to you every waking moment through the vibrations he’s emitting.

He feels you rock your hips against his face greedily and he smiles a toothy grin against you. His perfect pliant girl, he couldn’t be happier to have your wetness rubbed against his nose as he dives into you. 

Wanting to escalate the scenario a bit, he’s internally pleading to feel you cum against his face, Spencer begins to suck harshly and suction onto your clit intermittently. The loud “fuck” you whimper out and how your torso isolates to twist to the side as you keep your hips in place is a good indicator that he’s making you feel good. This is a dream.

“Hh- mmmm” you cry out and Spencer flickers his gaze up to your face. You’re scrunching your face like a sweet bunny and have one hand up and posed above his head, waiting to push him away, the pleasure so strong you have to implicitly prepare yourself to shove him away when it gets to be too much. He moans highly against you.

The hand you had defensively propped up begins to lightly push at his face, he smiles at this, suctions your clit through his lips and runs circles over it with his tongue, your hand falls limply to your side.

“Fingers- ah, fingers!” You manage to gasp out one more plea before sucking your lips in and moaning deeply against them.

You seriously do not have to ask him twice. Being able to feel you twitch and grip around his fingers while he sucks on your clit has him pushing himself against the floor. The bordering on painful stimulation he’s getting from using all his body weight to hump his carpet sends tingles up and down his spine. As you said, sensitive. 

Spencer starts by tracing your entrance with his middle finger, he slips in easily just by doing that, your slick and his spit making the intrusion incredibly easy. He wastes no time pulling his finger up against your g-spot and slips in his ring finger alongside it, rubbing slick circles inside of you.

The noises your cunt is making from his incessant sucking and rubbing could probably be heard from any of his neighbors walking by his front door. He gasps hotly at this thought, what are you doing to him? Has he no shame?

You’re riding his face and fingers again, mumbling intelligible sentences. God, his cock hurts. 

“Baby, close, don’t stop-” The angelic words fall from your mouth and his ears perk up like an owner saying her dog's favorite words to it. Spencer continues exactly what he’s doing against you and looks up at you again through your back arching.

He can feel you twitching and senses you’re done for. If only he could talk and eat you out at the same time, he wants to call you pretty until tears come from your eyes. You gasp wetly and come all over his fingers.

Your thighs clamp against his head and he lets you do whatever you need to do to his face to get off. He’s rubbing soft and soothing circles against your hips as you hiccup through your orgasm.

You open your mouth as if you have something to say, and close it again, shuddering out a breath of air. Spencer pulls away, he can talk again.

“My good girl, thank you. I mean, you tasted so good… you’re so pretty, my pretty, oh my god-” He’s got a lot on his mind right now.

Spencer watches and follows your movements as you sluggishly sit up to kiss him, moving your tongue against his in an eager display to taste yourself against his lips, he whines again, feeling your warmth against him. When you palm him through his pants Spencer stutters out a pornographic “hnnn”, the friction from his rubbing against the floor has left him painfully needy.

“Can I take your cock out baby?” You ask against his neck. Spencer is aware of the embarrassing uhhuh uhhuh he releases as he scoots back against his couch. You don’t bother teasing him, taking out his red dripping dick from his pants and underwear and you don’t even giggle when it makes a whip sound as it taps against his skin.

He actually has to close his eyes after watching you whine in overstimulation as you collect your come from yourself to use it as lubrication to jerk him off with it. He’s genuinely going to pass out.

With a mouth open to the shape of an “o”, Spencer has an onslaught of tiny gentle noises that fill up the room alongside the skin slapping sound of you jerking him off. You touch the crown of his dick and one of his arms shoots out to brace himself against the couch. 

He accidentally grabs your panties he placed on the couch earlier.

Not thinking, he grips onto them and you kiss his cheek. “Want em’?” You tease. “My panties are in my top drawer next time you come over and want to snoop around.” You joke further, a red flush of humiliation covers Spencer's neck and chest. He slowly moves his grip on them over to his nose. Too far gone to have the same self-control he had earlier to set them aside, he finally indulges in taking in your scent.

He’s somewhat expecting more prodding and teasing, but you just continue to kiss over his face softly. He’s so thankful.

There’s no surprise to the fact you have him coming especially fast. Spencer feels his legs twitch and he sets down your panties to kiss you properly as he finishes all over your fist. 

As he comes down from this unexplainable high he is struck with such a tender feeling of affection towards you his eyes water. You notice and scoot onto his legs and lap and wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Not letting go until you feel him chuckling against you, you ask him how he feels and he sighs out dramatically. He’s so exhausted now.

You shyly offer to wet-vac his carpet once you guys move to clean yourselves up and he breaks out into a laughter that makes his stomach hurt. You eventually join his contagious laughter at the situation.

Spencer’s suggestion for you to stay a while is accepted with open arms. You spend your first night together wrapped up in each other's embrace. Being back in his own bed with you here settles his mind so gently that within three minutes of his head hitting the pillow he’s out like a light. 

In the morning when he wakes up for work he rubs his nose softly all over your face to wake you up. Spencer offers that you stay in his bed and sleep more or he can drive you back to yours before he heads over to work. He ends up driving you home so you can get ready for work yourself. Once you’re back home he finally opens up his phone again from last night to see a picture of yourself you sent on the walk to his apartment last night with the text under it “Had to come see you anyway, hope the doors unlocked mwahaha”.

He finds himself smiling at his missed message all day at work and once he’s seated back in his car to go home later that day he finally finds the “forgotten” panties you left on his passenger car seat when you left this morning.  

Spencer flushes then pockets them before texting you that he is in fact not a voyeur or a perv and he did not put your panties in his pocket and he is not asking you to come over again tonight so he can cook you a pasta dinner before he lays you out for him again, hopefully on his bed this time.