#otherwordly experience

[spencewalterreid]

Oh good heavens

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

-

part three

[schemelin]

OC thingies!

Palmer (she/her)

Graveleaper (he/him)

Altairus (he/they)

[orangetintedglasses]

( not to be unhinged on main but this man needs to be at the mercy of someone who does NOT have his best interests at heart...... for science )

[torgawl]

literally obsessed with that one stupid page about the 4 samsara cycles by the narzissenkreuz ordo and the concept of descenders. what exactly are the "remains" of the third descender? does that mean their physical form or something else entirely?

[retro-system]

what the fuck did they put in two shadows in the sun dude that shit's downright etherical

[nebulacollected]

That's just being gay and neurodivergent, what do you mean

Yknow rewatching gravity falls makes you realize how batshit insane Ford truly was

1. Lights his face on fire instead of shaving because “it’s faster”

2. Suggests Rudolph should’ve murdered the other reindeer for making fun of him

3. Had a situationship with a triangle

[wingeddistortion]

i feel like the autistic experience is all about being obsessed with video game soundtracks to the point where theyre number 1 in your spotify wrapped

[bamsara]

Greetings, hope new year finds ya well.

I am unsure if I can word this question well, but what inspired your Narinder’s personality? Both the kinder and more ruthless parts of it.

Thank you in advance.

Pretty much all the characters are based off of me and my personal experiences but for Narinder specifically; a lot of his behavior is based off of how I felt in a different period of life since a lot of his behavior stems from grief. Also the Lamb and Heket but that's another post

Personality quirks though you can see Quite A Lot of similarities of how I wrote my other favorite characters throughout the years (Moon, Zim, especially Triumphant Wilson)

There is an inside joke that my Wilson from my fic 'Nightly Shenanigans' was the 'First Narinder' since they're both: dark otherwordly powers, associated with royalty/reigning rank of some sort, red eyes, sharp teeth, and the entire jist of 'we were best friends and i cared for you so deeply but Something Happened that either corrupted me/betrayed us and now im mean and intending to kill you but I Don't Really Want To.' Also terrified of nudity

[razbrry]

Hello! I wanted to start with saying that your writing is so fun to read I always let out a giggle :) I’ve been requesting quite a bit and wanted to toggle to something like a NSFW alphabet? If you do those. Letters E, G, J, L, N, V, W for Grell maybe?

note— you are such a sweet pea! thank you!!! and i do in fact do alphabets… rubs hands mischievously.—☆💋💄 rated:smut! includes: (mastrubation, overstimulating, quickies, lingerie, cum smearing…) 👼 lalalalala

NSFW alphabet letters[E G J L N V W]—ft. grell sutcliff

𝔼= experience— (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

hmm… so and so!

grell is the definition of all bark no bite.

she’s quite sloppy

but of course in the best way possible

she needs guidance in where exactly to touch you. but when it’s offered she brushes it of with a ‘no no no no no!’

she likes to think her skills are otherwordly like herself. leave her be.

vocal guidance is whats best for her. just don’t directly tell her what to do entirely. what a boreeeeee.

small suggestions is the proper way to coax a lady!

she’s a fast learner!! <3

𝔾= goofy— (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

grell loves to tease and taunt you, vice versa.

as for gooofyy…?

presents herself like she isn’t. she likes to think she isn’t.

poor thing.

she isn’t trying to make you giggle, but if she keeps moaning exaggerated nothings into your ear? cmon noww.

we’re trying to fuck and you’re talking about how much better this would be under the light of a red moon… what

she’s too classy for us! again, she likes to think that.

although, whenever you two are going for a rough fuck, everything’s way more intense. no words for grell, just broken muttered curses.

𝕁= jack off— (mastrubation headcanon)

grell is very used to the face down flat on her tummy way.

+50 points if there’s a pillow to bury her face in. it’s her support!

she’d pant and groan into it, clinging onto the pillow as she works her free hand up and down her shaft with vigor.

always attempting to keep her glasses on, but it’s too uncomfy. they always end up getting all fogged up! :(

kicking her feet when she gets overstimulated and whining.

she’ll bite down on her pillow when she’s near orgasm.

how messy!

she’d chuckle to herself after, playing and smearing her cum slick through her inner thigh.

𝕃= location— (favorite places to do the do)

grell is quite the bed girl.

but she’s down to take some risks!

not full blown into exhibitionism, but she adores the thrill of a possibility of getting caught.

isn’t fond of quickies, but will have them is she’s feeling frisky and frustrated.

ℕ= no— (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

for grell, there’s absolutely no sharing. NONE!! none.

well, no sharing of you.

she herself fantasizes about being shared

we forgive you mama.

threesomes with you in it are so ew to her. so none of that, please.

also mentioned that she doesn’t like to be told what to do during sex. unless it’s like… a domme thing.

then she’ll gladly obey!

but if a miracle happens and she’s topping you, that is the WORST time to order her around.

𝕍= volume— (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

an absolute eargasm is what you’ll receive from grell.

mewls, groans, cries, whines alllllll of the nine yards

she’s very responsive!

endless mumbled profanities

small details on her, she feels icky grunting.

she sticks to smoother, higher pitched noises.

unfortunately can’t keep quiet. woops! looks like you’ll have to gag her.

oh noooo!… muahahaha

her whines and whimpers are so mesmerizing.

and rather worrisome that she sometimes whines like a puppy in pain. boohoo!

𝕎= wild card— (a random headcanon.)

grell loves to wear lingerie.

this isn’t even necessarily sexual. when she isn’t on butler duty it basically her normal nightwear.

she just feels so good in it.

and goodness, does it make you feel good too.

as expected, the color schemes consist of reds with a lacy or strappy black.

she loves to show them off for you, blowing kisses and winking at you all girlishly.

up to straddling you and bumping and grinding her hips against yours.

loooooooordy.

[froschli96]

As an asexual Good Omens fan

There's something I've noticed in this fandom that makes me really uncomfortable, and that is the way that Crowley and Aziraphale's possible asexuality is constantly being connected to and justified by them being not human.

I just honestly really hate that, because implying that asexuality is something that somehow "logically" follows from characters being nonhuman is ... not great. Like, I hate having to be the one to point this out, but asexuality is, in fact, very much a human attribute.

And unfortunately, most of the time when I come across this take, it doesn't feel like someone seeing themselves in the characters and relating to their experience, but rather an othering, this kind of otherwordly pure non-sexualness, where people put these characters above such trivial things like sexuality.

I am not asexual because I am somehow confounded by this oh so complicated human concept of sexuality, or because I don't ever think or care about sexuality at all (a lot of thinking was unfortunately involved actually before I finally came to a conclusion about my identity) it is just a fact of who I am, as a human being, it’s a part of my human experience.

And let's be honest, attributing asexuality to nonhuman characters is not the hot new take a lot of people seem to think it is — this trope has been around for ages. And it hasn't done a great deal to normalize asexuality. In fact I'd argue it's perpetuated an othering of ace people, but you take what you can get, really. (This is not to say that it is in any way wrong to identify with these kinds of characters, I definitely do, too! It's just sad that the topic of discussion is always about how "human" someone can be considered when they don't feel sexual or romantic attraction)

To be honest, I don't actually see A&C being asexual as canon — as a lot of people seemingly do — just because the author kind of suggested it in a tweet where he basically conflates "asexual" and "sexless" (for the record, this is not a dig at Neil, I just think the implications were kind of unfortunate, even if it might not have been intentional, which makes it all the more frustrating that a lot of fans just ran with it). And yeah, going around calling people aphobic for seeing the Ineffable Husbands as gay rep or any other identity, when they’re oh so obviously canonically ace, is honestly kind of insane.

I get that it might feel nice and tempting to be able to "claim" these characters and this relationship and being able to tell other fans off whose headcanons on their sexuality differ from your own because it is hard to come by any kind of representation when you're ace and there's finally a creator who's not only not contemptuous towards but even supportive of fans reading his characters as queer. And if you feel represented by A&C as it is then all the more power to you. But the thing is, it doesn't matter what kind of justifications there are or what canon might or might not say (bc when has that ever mattered in fandom spaces) or what the creator says, you cannot convert people to your opinion about a character, and you're going to have a bad time if you spend your time in fandom trying to do that.

And really, I am just wondering why we necessarily even need an explanation or justification for them possibly being asexual. Why does it have to be that all angels and demons are asexual by virtue of being nonhuman, and so A&C have to be too? why can't that just be an aspect of them that is completely unrelated to them not being human? Could these characters maybe not simply identify as asexual, not because they're nonhuman, but in spite of it? (btw, in the same vein it is equally stupid to argue that A&C can't be ace because they have "gone native", which is also an argument I've come across)

Honestly, I'm not even asking anyone to fundamentally change how they see these characters here — if you think they must be asexual solely because they're angels and have no concept of human sexuality, then whatever, I can't stop you and I don’t want to police anyone's headcanons bc as I said that's stupid and a waste of time. What I am asking you is that you maybe reflect a little bit on why exactly it is that humanity and sexuality are somehow so intrinsically linked in your mind to the point where you automatically use it as a way to distinguish between human and nonhuman characters.

Anyways.

Tldr: please stop equating asexuality with non-humanness thank you and good day.

[imaginespazzi]

niviiiiii where you at my love??? need your game recap and your crashout over ur wifey being back on the court!!

48 hours later, and now that I can remember the game for more than just Azzi because really that's all I could think about on the actual day, I do have actual game thoughts:

Thank god I had that cloud of happiness about Azzi coming back because if I didn't, I think that game might have actually killed my soul because quite frankly, I didn't think that game was great by any stretch. And listen I love my alums, I love seeing them, love their support etc. etc. but please for the love of god, they can never come to a game against a real opponent and they needa stay so far away from the team during March/April.

The one thing I did enjoy: SARAH FUCKING STRONG. She was just so good and she really just does everything on the court at such a high level. AND THE THREES ARE FALLING! Like everyone should be really scared because Sarah is the real fucking deal.

Thank god Paige lowkey had a good second half because if she'd kept playing the way the she did that first half, the discourse would've been unbearable and I wouldn't have even stepped into defend her like girlie was doing her best *not* to beat the allegation from ND last year. But as always, when she wasn't contributing scoring wise, Paige did everything else. Grandpa should've let her get that double-double.

I like that Ice seems to be becoming consistent with what she does

Thank god for KC in the first half! That's that veteran experience bleeding through where despite the rims apparently being closed for UConn, she found a way. Hopefully that translates to a higher ranked opponent.

We need more from Ash but I do like that she's being aggressive

JANA GIRL LAYUPS!! Please for the love of god truly nothing irritates me more and I'm assuming by the looks he was giving her, Geno's gonna get on her ass about it.

KK continues to give us that spark off the bench but she's still making some freshman mistakes.

Speaking of sparks, Morgan has a definitive impact that won't show up on the box score, but you see it when she steps on the floor every game.

Allie baby I fear you're gonna have to wait your turn and that might not be till next year

AND FINALLY AZZI FUDD!! Man I was just so happy to see my girl so happy to play and she could've score 0 points and I would've felt like she'd scored 50. Gonna add another anon here because I think they captured it pretty well:

Like obviously she didn't do anything otherwordly but immediately you can tell she's moving well and the fact that she was willing to make shot after missing is a great read on her new mentality. AND THE DEFENSE. I remember Azzi saying that's what she took most pride in, in HS, so if we can get that defensive minded Azzi + her shots start falling, well...Geno might faint out of love for her lol.

Overall with opponents like this, it's all about how you beat them and we didn't do it particularly beautifully but like I've been saying, this is a young team and it's early days. I think the Bahama's will be a great test for them and especially if they get Ole Miss, I think we're gonna learn a lot.

[ariadnesweb]

Unabashedly love how Deltarune's main cast (Kris, Susie, Noelle, Ralsei) all seem to be based off types of horror monsters, combining very antagonistic/ off-putting personas with the average experience of being an awkward teenager.

There's Kris, the human, who's compared to a shambling corpse, a type of zombie lacking life for itself, bound to the most basic impulses for life, or perhaps a phantom knight, a ghost chasing after a otherwordly, personal liege to die for.

There's Susie, the bully, the gangster, the wild barbaric beast, the 'dark' one in the group, who played her role straight in chapter one, attacking anything in her path for daring to be weaker than her, and even once on the side of good, can't shake her doubts that she stands as a barely contained anti-hero compared to her friends.

Noelle, of course, is the witch & the ghost - both roles brought to the front throughout the course of the Weird Route. The Witch - she is the holder for some of the most destructive magic seen so far, a Knight capable of opening a Dark Fountain. And as the Ghost, Noelle is bound by history's tragedies to repeat them blindly, seeking a sense of closure for her family as it still cannot be found.

Ralsei, as he stands, seems to be some fae-type creature - a darkner that operates on a set of foreign, arbitrary rules - for whom friendship is paid with by acquiescence to said rules. How solid is his friendship? To who is loyalty owed to? We don't know. Neither does Ralsei - he's a shapeshifter, self variable and changing. If there is a price to pay, it will be paid dearly: Ralsei stands as the Prince of Darkners, and his CastleTown is both a hub for our friends, and the prison for our enemies.

There is something sweet about such a ragtag group of weirdoes finding community with each other, a chance to grow-up with friends and allies.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

GAYLE RANKIN TALKING ABOUT ALYS RIVERS IN EPISODE 4 OF ‘HOUSE OF THE DRAGON’ S2.

DID YOU READ THE ALYS RIVERS PORTIONS OF FIRE AND BLOOD?

"The first audition, I did not know who I was auditioning to play."

"I was auditioning to play 'AR.' And then I was kind of told who it was, and I was able to go into the book and read the portions, which are really fascinating."

"There’s so much hearsay and back and forth about Alys from so many different perspectives — mostly male perspectives, too — about who she is, what she is, where she comes from, what she’s going to do, and what she’s not going to do."

"It made me so excited."

BEYOND THE TEXT, DID YOU FIND INSPIRATION FROM ANYWHERE TO HELP CREATE YOUR VERSION OF ALYS?

"Absolutely. I’m from Scotland originally, so I really felt strongly that I wanted her to be Celtic, like Scottish, where I’m from generally."

"I found that to be really interesting because it was like this pagan aspect with that."

"The other option would be for her to be English, and there’s not that many Scottish characters."

"Beesbury was Scottish, but no one in the House Strong is Scottish, so what are we saying about her relationship to Harrenhal and being a member of the Strong household?"

"I enjoyed adding that part of my own heritage to the character because I thought it really helped with specificity in terms of the pagan aspect of her craft and also grounding her."

"It also made her more mysterious because it’s like, wait, where’s she from? It was like a jumping-off point, and Ryan [Condal] and everybody at HBO were really excited about me using my own accent."

"I think it gives her this unique power in some ways because she is untouchable and doesn’t have a familial lineage."

"It also makes her vulnerable, too, because she’s out there in Harrenhal on her own for years."

"What’s she been doing? Where did she come from? — I have a backstory as an actor."

"That’s kind of my process, and that huge part of it for me to really ground her and make her a real woman."

HOW WOULD YOU RANK HER POWER COMPARED TO THE DRAGONS AND WHAT SHE MIGHT BE HOLDING IN?

"I think what’s interesting, and if you’ve read the books, where Alys ends up is in a pretty powerful position."

"Prophecy is like the missing piece to take over the throne."

"Prophecy and magic and witchcraft and that kind of power have amazing brute force."

"Dragons are magical in their own way, but there’s something about being able to manipulate and understand and know things about the world."

"It’s kind of speaking to a bigger theme inside the story, which is that it’s an extremely female-centric power story."

"The fact that these women know things and know how to do things, and they aren’t being helped or respected, like Mysaria and Alicent and obviously Rhaenyra."

"These women know what they’re doing."

"They know, and Alys definitely has another kind of knowing."

"I think it’s cool to add that to the pot."

ALYS HAS ONLY INTERACTED WITH DAEMON SO FAR. WHAT DOES SHE WANT FROM HIM?

"I think as much as Alys is in charge, there’s also something bigger that’s at play."

"I think she knows that, and it kind of allows her, weirdly, to be with Daemon in this experience."

"I think we’re going to start to, hopefully, get to see them actually interact."

"As much as Alys has all this power, there are things about her that she wants and desires and has her eye toward."

"There’s a long game, I think, for this character."

"My interpretation and hope to get through is that she also has a human yearning and yearns for human connection."

"I think someone with a lot of power like that, who’s been alone for a long time, how is that going to play out when they get to spend time with a human being?"

SHE TOLD DAEMON THAT SHE'S ‘NO SO BAD’ ONCE YOU GET TO KNOW HER. THAT WAS A REALLY HUMAN MOMENT IN THE MIDST OF THIS OTHERWORDLY EXPERIENCE AT HARRENHAL.

"She desires to be known, I think, and that’s really interesting that she desires to be known by the scariest motherfucker around."

"She’s kind of here for it."

"There’s something really progressive about that because the thing about Alys is she’s able to see something in Daemon that’s important to be seen."

"She’s fearless."

"I think when you wait around for 400 years, when you get an opportunity to get involved in your life for your purpose, which I think Daemon is a part of her life and her purpose, like, go for it."

"She’s going for it."

IN EPISODE 3, SHE TOLD DAEMON THAT HE'D ‘DIE’ AT HARRENHAL. DID SHE SAY IT AS A WARNING OR JUST A FACT?

"I think it’s good that we’re asking that question because I think that exposes a lot about her."

"I don’t think she knows really how Daemon is going to play out in her life."

"As much as she knows everything, I don’t know if Alys knows everything, you know? I think there’s a learning happening with her, too."

"I think there’s warning, there’s fact, there’s empathy, there’s power dynamic playing out."

DO YOU THINK ALL OF HER POWER IS CONTAINED AT HARRENHAL? IS THAT SOMETHING YOU'VE THOUGHT ABOUT?

"I’m sure it’s something that she’s thought about."

"I think it’s something that she’s probably worried about and excited about and challenged by."

"I think that’s an exciting question for the show because, ultimately, it doesn’t seem like it is, but I don’t know if she knows that."

"I don’t know how that would change her."

WHAT CAN YOU TEASE ABOUT WHAT'S NEXT FOR ALYS REGARDING HER DYNAMIC WITH DAEMON? IT FEELS LIKE WE'RE AT A TIPPING POINT AFTER THE HALLUCINATIONS AND VISIONS.

"I think that’s what’s interesting is that there is a tipping point."

"What happens? How do power dynamics start to shift? — Hopefully, the audience will be hungry to see how we are going to start finding out more about Alys and there might be potential for that."

I WANTED TO POINT OUT THAT DAEMON JUST ACCEPTED THAT CUP OF WHATEVER ALYS WAS BREWING IN EPISODE 4, NO QUESTIONS ASKED. HE DIDN'T SEEM SCARED BY IT, AS IF THERE WAS A CERTAIN TRUST THERE.

"There’s something quite comforting about their dynamic."

"I think no one has ever challenged Daemon, and it’s interesting how Alys kind of flip flops between maternal energy and friend energy and kind of a little sexual tension, and any different kind of tools she has but also things that she wants to experiment with."

AEMOND AND ALYS HAVE A VERY PROMINENT RELATIONSHIP IN FIRE & BLOOD. IS THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN SAY ABOUT THEM POSSIBLY MEETING THIS SEASON?

"I can’t."

"I think my whole thing with talking about Alys and talking about the journey is I think patience is going to be a really… I think it’s going to pay off because I think all of these things are so informative of one another."

[gunebuggiesprompts]

Word of the Day dpxdc Prompt #9

July 13: Outlandish

Whenever Tim discovers a small video media channel protesting against the Anti-Ecto Act made by the government division called Ghost Investigation Ward, which he had no clue existed, he first believed it to be a huge joke or hoax of some kind. He continued to watch the videos from the mysterious person only going by DP on the channel named by the same thing, wondering if it was actually some elaborate ARG that hasn't gotten popular yet.

Though as he watched the videos, he began to have a creeping feeling that the DP in these videos was serious, as he never hinted to some secret online mystery that he would love to solve. He didn't want to believe the crazy things that DP was saying, who went into deep conversations about ectoplasmic entities, often called ghosts, that lived in some otherwordly place called the Ghost Zone, or the fact that there was scientist who's whole career was for researching that.

That's when he decided to do his own investigation, discovering that the reason he didn't know about the GIW was because they were a secret branch in the government that he could only find by hacking. He discovers that not only is everything that DP is saying true, but it's so much worse, that the GIW was doing things such unethical experiments to straight up planning to nuke an entire dimension.

Tim knows that he has to help take down this government. He only hopes that more people are willing to listen whenever it took him nearly 100 videos to even begin to consider it a possibility. Maybe if he can get into contact with DP, he could team up with him as he seemed to have a lot of knowledge on the topic.

[werewolfaday]

When you say you're "trying to develop a very specific type of werewolf" does that mean you're changing how you draw werewolves, or you're trying to draw a specific type of werewolf in this instance?

Sorry, just curious.

Trying to draw a specific type of werewolf! I like thinking abt how different variants of werewolf exist. Love experimenting with their features + how human they look (or how wolf ish, or much inspiration from other animals they take, or how monster/Otherwordly they look!)

[learnastrowallura]

🧡The Third House in Astrology🧡

The source if this information is The Astrology Podcast (Chris Brennan) on Youtube and from the book The Twelve Houses: Exploring the Houses of the Horoscope by Howard Sasportas + I will apply the knowledge I have acquired on my own 3rd house placements as well

If you have any questions let me know <3

3rd house: interaction, communication, language, mind, mental, forming ideas, concrete, logic, sequential thought, rationale, pragmatism, practicality, intellect, fact, knowledge, siblings, early education, adolescence, writing, speaking, media, connecting information, short term/distance travel, early life, walking, talking, driving, familiarity, friendship, immediate environment, cadent, goddess, moon

Our relationship to/how we perceive knowledge, the elements we tend to focus on based on what is presented right in front of us/our immediate environment, the nature of our relationships with our siblings/uncles/aunts/neighbors/cousins (people that are present within sight; parents could be included as well but not within an important context since they are more significant and we associate other houses with them), how our formative early school education went, our ability to classify/connect/give a structure to pieces of information, what type of information we consume often etc

Personal example: I have Capricorn and Neptune in the third house

First thing I have ever learned or perceived about knowledge is that it is nothing/unimportant/insignificant? But especially if not accompanied by hard work, structure, and apparent success (particularly perceived from others; which would create a certain reputation for me) so this was immediately seen as the end goal for me basically it's giving very Capricorn energy- but then I also have Neptune in Aquarius in the 12th degree in the third house and for me this manifests in focusing on the taboo, eccentric but also SPIRITUAL aspects/topics of life and wanting to learn more about them and kind of making that my focus in this lifetime while channeling that disciplined Capricorn energy into it. I was also top of my class (elementary, middle school) when I was younger since I studied quite hard as well. I was also an only child who dreamed of having siblings and saw sibling relationships as this very beautiful, mystical, otherwordly thing (Neptune) and then later on when I was 13 learned that I DID have them ��� 3 half siblings which was very Aquarius (sudden and fast information) energy too

Other thing I would like to mention is I have my Neptune trining my Jupiter in Libra in the 11th house in the 11th degree and the trine is a harmonious aspect and to me this manifests in my learning experiences being so much more pleasant and comfortable when they are within a context of a group of people with whom I can discuss and share passions, as well as maybe help people in some way

Comment down below your 3rd house sign, planets and aspects

Thank you for reading <3

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