#yOu SOuRpUSs
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dilidos · 2 years ago
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Two times Arthur complimented John (or tried to) and got pissy when John didn't response the way he wanted. So funny how pathetic this man is. The fact that he managed to score Bella is astounding.
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khywren · 11 months ago
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kebbybites · 4 months ago
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SORRY FOR MASS REBLOGGING UR STUFF GAHAHA ur artstyle is js so yummy and i love it a lot ghbhvguhghgg..
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UMMU UMM can u. draw smg34 kissing or somethign .mayb e idont kn
thank you! this is the face i make when you reblog my art
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and here's a little treat since you asked so nicely :3
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dailyalgebraliens · 6 months ago
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May I make requests here?
if so.. may i have sum Five art
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I'm not sure why I went and fully shaded this but yes! here's a five %]
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massy2ly · 4 months ago
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Alright, buckle up… Part 2: Style
I’m so confused y’all 🧍‍♀️ discombobulated, flummoxed, as befuddled as a squirrel in a nut factory. And not about ep. 4 at all, to me this episode hinted at all there was to say. What confuse me are THE REACTIONS around this episode that I keep seeing on all platforms .
Maybe it’s just me idk but this shit is a little weird because I don’t see how you can come to the conclusion that:
1. Fadel folded, surrendered, entered the shiny gates of the garden of romance, and is willing to delve into the danger that is love (I’m exaggerating ofc lol).
2. Style started having genuine deep feelings for this guy and actually wanted to be his boyfriend.
- Style who just recently started being intrigued by Fadel, Style who’s been so self centered that every action he takes and every word that comes out of his mouth are driven by his initial purpose. Egoistical (so far) and so arrogant that he takes offense at Fadel’s legitimate reactions to his intrusive, borderline sociopathic behavior. Style who keeps showing a creepy double face whenever we switch from his interactions with Fadel to his meetings with Kant or just him being alone. Style who admitted to acting stupid and goofy as not to raise suspicion. Style who lives for a good challenge and still takes Fadel as the perfect one to satisfy his ego.
Style who’s my favorite baby in the show but also the biggest mystery out of the four characters. We gained sm insight into Fadel’s life and turmoil. I could write an essay about Kant and already can picture his inner conflict and the chaos that would unfold when he admits to his feelings for Bison (criminal mind of a man on survival mode but also such a lonely and beyond stressed lover boy who’s tired of controlling everything). Bison is pure dynamite with a childlike rawness and temperament that are as adorable as they can be explosive if you get on his wrong side (pretty sure he’s the most dangerous out of the two brothers and I think Kant is realizing that too).
Style tho? We don’t know much about him beyond his obsession with cars, his carefree nature, his joie de vivre, his brazenness, his courage, his uniqueness, a shamelessness that is just unmatched. To me, it’s not that he doesn’t understand social cues, he just chooses not to pay them any heed, in addition to disregarding people’s emotions. He’s shameless and selfish and entitled.
But I like to believe there’s a whole lot more about Style we weren’t allowed to see since he’s the one who’s been acting the most. Not only that but he’s the one who does it best: Kant’s face is so expressive that you can see the cracks in his mask. One threat and that smile wobbles and he starts looking constipated lol. It also helps that we’ve seen him interact with many people which gives us an overall portrait of who he is. But when it comes to Style, we’ve only started to glimpse at his true face and there’s so much more to uncover. The fear now that he knows what Fadel is, the love he’ll start feeling towards a soft Fadel, the dilemma between what’s right and wrong, between loyalty and betrayal, safety and danger. Vulnerability seems to me the key word for him as we haven’t seen yet an emotionally vulnerable Style. Fear, love, confliction and hurt will bring out a serious side of him that could balance his eccentricity and, subsequently, convince me that his feelings are genuine.
However, for now, it’s not the case!!! This guy is physically attracted to Fadel, still sees him as a case to crack (fadel got it right on that one), is definitely intrigued and interested, but genuine attachement? A big no. If there is any, it’s still dormant or he’s not aware of it. Can you blame him tho? Realistically, Fadel hasn’t done much to make his heart flutter. Bro was still being cruel and humiliated him just a day before they got together. As unhinged as he is, Style is not sadistic lol and actually needs someone to bring out his vulnerable side with softness and love. Because Fadel showed no potential of being able or willing to do that before, Style is not aware of the grave he dug for himself. I think he does not expect to fall in love with him, which could explain why he agreed in this ep to work with Kant. He’s still so detached and out of touch with his feelings to not conclude that the most logical decision is using his status to stop a killer. He’ll probably realize how wrong he was when he gets a taste of lover Fadel in next episode. I hope ep 5 marks the beginning of him falling in love because I suspect he’ll already be in too deep when Fadel discovers (or confirms) his ulterior plans.
Anyway, even though I know he’s not there yet, I still hope that the kiss, the words he said to fadel and that look on his face were genuine. I wanted to break Kant’s face and that FUCKING CAR when Style looked all smug about his victory. It’s so sad and I can’t wait to see the guilt, self consciousness and love eating him up for once.
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willowser · 2 years ago
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i think one of the reasons i like pro hero x office assistant trope is bc i don't have a professional bone in my body akfndjskql i do not care if you are my boss and also the grumpiest man on earth, i'm telling you all about my vacation and coming around your desk to show you all the pictures of trees i took on my phone
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ducktracy · 1 month ago
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coming to the realization that i just really love comedic foils, especially if they fit the vein of an odd couple trope. i don’t really care for most Terrytoons cartoons, but i absolutely throw my hat in the air and shoot off my celebratory guns at any mention of Gandy Goose and Sourpuss. absolute ditto for Columbia’s Fox and Crow (of whom this post is inspired by, rewatched The Magic Fluke, loved it, and it has since dethroned Rooty Toot Toot as my favorite UPA cartoon). pretty sure there’s some unknown cartoon studio that has a duck and a pig who both have speech impediments or something i don’t know, probably not important. i like when cartoon studios have Two Guys. y’know
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dootznbootz · 1 year ago
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ghoulcified · 7 months ago
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Trump is praising his bestie Orban. He wants to be a dictator so bad.
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nulfaga · 7 months ago
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whatever i'm too classy to hate-rb anything but that post about "i like teambuilding activities at work, why are you all such sourpusses, join the scavenger hunt". Personally: take your bullshit teambuilding budget and put it straight into my paycheck. Yup right in there thanks that'll do. And I will go over the spreadsheets again.
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sarahowritesostucky · 10 months ago
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How about keeping your cringe fucking self insert stories out of the stevexbucky tag.
Hmmm, what story are you referring to, lovely sweet Tumblr person?
I'm not sure I have a story with reader or OFC tags and Stucky tags that doesn't also have actual Steve x Bucky content. For example, my fic "Temporary Custody" has an OFC and also tons of Stucky action. Likewise my fic "Worth the Wait" has a reader/you character, and Stucky as a couple. "Make it Stick" has an OFC paired with Bucky and Steve, who are also a pairing in the fic. So all of these fics do indeed contain Stucky content, and therefore warrant the Stucky tag.
Seems like you're just jealous and bitter, and so feel the need to go angrily anon-bomb people who have way more talent , guts, and fans than you do. I'm sorry for whatever is going on in your pitiful little life that you have to get your kicks by being a sourpuss on the internet.
💖Sarah
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whenyoucomeback · 2 months ago
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tee-hee-hees to myself
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ladybugkisses · 11 months ago
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the thing about Felix is even though i should hate him as an amalgamation of my real life experiences, he's also a pretty kitty cat with pumpkin eyes so i forgive him for his sins 😔
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gamebunny-advance · 11 months ago
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Spite.
People that can only enjoy things through spite really baffle me.
For a while, I was following someone that ran a fanblog for something that I liked, but alongside reblogging fan art, every other original post they made was about how they would hate X, and that Y was better.
X and Y were any number of things relating to the subject of the blog, and the specifics of what they were aren't relevant to the discussion.
It wasn't that their criticisms were unfounded. They sometimes had legitimate gripes with a work, and I even agreed occasionally with some of the things they said. What bothered me is that conversely, they rarely talked about the things they did like unless it was in relation to the thing they didn't like.
It was never, "I like Y because ABC, and y'all should check it out too!" it was always, "X is horrible and bad, so I'm gonna consume Y instead!" or "At least Y is better than that trash X!"
It was just very tiring. I don't know what made them like that, but there was always a bitterness to their posts that always made me uncomfortable, especially in relation to what the blog was about. I would think a person running a blog like that would be more forward about positivity and love, but the impression I got was that they were purely motivated by spite.
But I tolerated it for a while because I liked seeing the reblogged posts and "X" was rarely something I was personally invested in. It was only recently that the "X" was actually something that I cared about that I finally decided to unfollow them. For the second time. I'd actually gotten sick and tired of this behavior long ago, but I decided to give them another shot, which they blew yet again.
I dunno. I know some people enjoy when others "spill the tea" or whatever (it seems like several of their followers enabled their behavior), and I'm not beyond hearing criticisms of a thing I like (I'm usually the first to make them). But I think I get the most enjoyment from people who also share the things they love because they love the thing, not because they hate something else.
It doesn't have to be an unconditional love, it just has to be earnest. I say all the time that being critical of the things you love is basically an essential part of truly appreciating anything in this world. But beyond the spite and criticism, I want to know that the person has something that they truly adore without it being tied to primarily negative feelings.
I just never got that from this person. There was never a post where they could gush about something without bringing something else down with it. I never sensed an earnest love from them.
But, maybe some people are just like that. Maybe their joy stems from venting their frustrations, and I can understand that. But their joy, is not my joy, and I just have a limit to how much spite I can take from one person before I just can't have them in my purview anymore.
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review-anon · 3 months ago
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Byakuya want to judge?
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Given I'm a judge, I wouldn't recommend him as he takes offense to me.
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Also it would mean 3 male judges.
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burymagdalene · 3 months ago
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Covetous Cravings - S. Reid x Reader
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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.
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