#shes very clearly in the wrong for what she did to angel

[periprose]

think its so weird how people think portrayal of something is endorsing it... like do we need an outright disclaimer everytime something is evil in a piece of media?? If it makes you uncomfortable, that's how it's supposed to be lol. It's not that the person/people making it secretly endorse these values (don't even get me started on how people treat nuanced morally gray characters, calling them problematic when EVERY human is problematic and we all do wrong, even if you don't think so, you do!!)

[nereidprinc3ss]

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

[sing-you-fools]

thinking about Good Omens 2. and stories, and the shape of them, and Terry Pratchett and his themes. and something clicked.

Aziraphale is cackling.

it's not just the ball. he spends the entire season trying to force the story into a shape it's not, and everyone suffers for it.

i've seen some less than charitable takes on Crowley's actions and they all ignore how much Crowley did try to talk to Aziraphale, did try to ask Aziraphale questions, did try to help, only to be ignored or brushed off. because his questions, his offers, they didn’t fit with the story Aziraphale was telling himself.

quiet, gentle, and romantic. it was, if you're our favorite Angel - right up until the end, at least. because he decided that's the story he was in. from the very beginning, he's off in la-la land, living out this romcom with a cute little mystery wrapped up in it, completely ignoring what's actually going on around him. i'll set Nina and Maggie up! (completely ignoring that Nina tells him she has a partner, and at that point, he has no reason to think she's anything less than happy.) i'll take ~our~ car to go do investigate this silly little mystery (he's not taking it even a little bit seriously!) while you stay here and run the bookshop and it will be so quaint and domestic! soon we'll dance and confess our feelings that we obviously share because we're already so clearly a couple we just need to finally say it!

Crowley knows the entire time that they're in a horror story but Aziraphale ignores every attempt he makes to point that out because it doesn't fit the story he decided he's in the middle of.

he brushes off Crowley's concerns and questions - his QUESTIONS! - like they're nothing. he doesn't want to see it, so he doesn't. and Crowley should have told him more?

why would he?

when you are CLEARLY in distress and it's being BLATANTLY AND WILLFULLY IGNORED, what the fuck are you supposed to do? "Crowley didn't comminicate" well okay if I were having a panic attack about something and my husband completely ignored it, chattering on about our dinner plans or whatever, that wouldn’t exactly make me want to open up about what was wrong! that would send the very fucking clear signal that he didn't want to know!

words aren't the only way we communicate and Crowley's body language, the entire season, is that of someone who is living in a horror story, knows he's living in a horror story, and is fucking terrified. if Aziraphale were paying any attention to Crowley instead of focusing all his energy trying to set things up just so for the big climax of his love story, he would know something major was wrong.

why would Crowley have told him how cruel Gabriel was about the execution when Aziraphale's already so thoroughly convinced that heaven is pure and good and has shown over and over through the millennia that he's not really open to considering that it can be cruel!

just look at them at the dance. Crowley freaking out because there's a horde of demons out there and Aziraphale giggling as they go to dance. that's the whole season!

you know who Crowley reminds me of this season?

he's watching helplessly and with increasing levels of distress as Aziraphale shoves every plot point into the romcom hole even though it's obviously not remotely romcom shaped! and i'm sick of people saying he was abusive because he raises his voice about it a few times!

[cherryredcheol]

just one secret

tldr: you know what they say about assuming... a/n: reader is referred to as she/her/wife. this is as angsty as i'll ever be (and this isn't angst)

“okay, just make sure she doesn’t find out. i don’t want her to know.”

you stopped dead in your tracks. you weren’t trying to spy on mingyu and his phone conversation, honest. you had just woken up from a very peaceful nap and the plan was to go beg mingyu to cook for you, or at least pay for take-out. your blood ran cold hearing mingyu on the phone in the living room. you didn’t keep secrets from each other. or at least you didn’t keep secrets from him. you were under the impression it went both ways but suddenly you’re not sure. 

you knew you were jumping to conclusions. you’re not even sure what he was talking about. who he was talking about. it could be any other woman in his life, his sister or his mom. but how were you not supposed to spiral when you hear him whispering on the phone to god knows who about secrets? your stomach twisted uncomfortably. what were you going to-

“angel? you up? are you hungry?” mingyu was calling to you from the living room. he must’ve heard you down the hall. before you could even figure out what your next steps were going to be, he appeared in the doorway, backlit from the sunny windows, and you almost melted seeing him smile at you. but then that little voice in the back of your head reminded you mingyu was keeping secrets. 

“who were you on the phone with?” you had to play it cool, not wanting to alert him of your suspicion. you didn’t want to accuse him of something that was nothing. the best course of action here was to let him tell you. ask a few leading questions and let him fill in the blanks. if it really was nothing, he’d tell you. 

mingyu started walking towards you, holding his arms out for you. “it was no one, angel. are you hungry? i can cook or we can get take-out. what sounds good?” he had reached you at this point, wrapped you up in his arms where you stood stiff as a board. 

your thoughts were racing. why didn’t he tell you who was on the phone? what was going on? why was mingyu keeping secrets?

“angel?” he peered down at you, clearly waiting for your answer. 

you shook your head, clearing your thoughts, “i’ll eat whatever, gyu. i’m not picky.” you pulled yourself out of his arms, suddenly feeling suffocated by his embrace for the first time since you met him. “i’m going to shower real quick while we wait for dinner. okay?” 

you didn’t even wait for his reply before you abruptly turned and went back into the bedroom you had just come from. 

in the safety of the ensuite bathroom, you stripped and let your thoughts run wild as the shower warmed up. what was going on? things with mingyu had been so good for the last 3 years. you two were so in love, his members often complained about spending time with the two of you, citing nausea at the sight of mingyu’s lovesick eyes boring into yours. 

you jumped when you heard a knock at the door. 

“angel? can i come in?” you could hear the confusion in his voice. probably wondering why you had suddenly decided on a shower and not engaging in your usual bicker over what to eat for dinner. you two would go back and forth but mingyu always gave in to you, paying for your favorite take-out spot or cooking whatever you requested. 

you didn’t want to alert him to your strange behavior, still not sure exactly what was going on, “yeah, come in.” 

the door cracked open and he peeked his head in the steamy room, eyes searching yours for signs of what was wrong. he could sense it, of course he could. 

he entered the room fully now, not reaching out to you, but fingers twitching at his sides begging to touch all your exposed skin. he stayed respectful though, eyes never leaving yours. “um, i ordered your favorite sushi. hope that’s okay.” 

things were awkward, tense. “yeah. thanks.” 

mingyu sighed, “angel, are you okay? things were okay before you took your nap. did something happen? can i fix it for you?” he was desperate for answers, hating this distance between you two suddenly. he’s not even sure what was going on, he just knew you were not okay. 

you looked away from him, “yeah. i’m okay. just have a bit of a headache. i’m hoping this shower will help. thanks for ordering dinner gyu, i’ll be out soon.” you effectively ended the conversation, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. 

he did.  “okay, angel. love you,” he gave you one last lingering look before closing the door behind him. 

you did everything you could to drag the shower out for as long as possible but you knew you were being a bit ridiculous. mingyu didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and you’re not even sure if he did anything beyond having a suspicious phone call. pulling one of his shirts on over your head, you decided it was time to face him. if you stewed in your thoughts any longer you were actually going to go crazy.

the first thing you noticed walking out of the bedroom was the darkness of the apartment. all the lights were off and the sun had set while you were in the shower. had he left? 

“fuck!” 

that one little word pulled you out of your spiral. he hadn’t left, just turned off all the lights? you were confused, wandering down the hall pausing in the doorway to the living room, yep, lights off in there too. as you reached the kitchen you saw mingyu hunched over the kitchen table, trying and failing to light a candle in the middle of the table. one of many candles he had lit, you realized as you looked around the room. there were little candles all over the room, a soft glow illuminating the dark space. you could see that the sushi had arrived and mingyu set the table, making for a much fancier take-out night than you usually had. 

“hey,” you called from the doorway, softly to not scare the big, clumsy man holding a lighter above your dinner. 

he jumped anyway, spinning around to see you. he was apprehensive, nervous energy pouring off of both of you as you eyed each other. neither of you wanted to upset the other, doing this delicate waltz around each other's feelings. 

he smiled despite himself, “hey angel. feeling better?”

“what is all this?” you ignored his question, very confused as to what was going on. 

his hand went to the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed about all the effort he went to, “well, you said you had a headache so i thought you might like softer lighting in the apartment so your eyes wouldn’t hurt from the overheads.” 

you made him jump a second time when you burst into tears. mingyu stood there looking at you holding your face in your hands, sobs wracking your body, frozen for only a second before he jumped into action, crossing the room in long strides and holding you to his chest. you kept crying, the wet spot on his shirt growing larger and larger.

when your sobs turned to sniffles, he loosened his grip on you. pulling back only enough to look at your face. 

“what is going on, angel? please tell me so i can help.” he was pleading with you, begging even. it hurt him to see you upset like this, especially because he didn’t know what was causing it. 

you couldn’t look into his eyes, instead, you stared at his feet, clad in soft socks, one on either side of yours, caging you in. “why would you do all this for me when you’re keeping secrets?” you sniffled, tears pooling at your lash line, threatening to spill again. 

mingyu blinked, confused, “what are you talking about? what secrets, angel?”

you still couldn’t look at him, “i heard you on the phone earlier. you said, ‘make sure she doesn’t find out.’ what did that mean? and when i asked you who it was you said it was no one. are you keeping secrets from me, gyu?” you felt so small in that moment. all the air around you still as you waited for his answer. 

“angel,” he cooed at you. grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes up to meet his. “you heard me on the phone? that’s what you’ve been upset about this whole time? i didn’t even know you heard that.” 

“you still have not answered my question, mingyu.” 

he winced hearing you use his full name, “angel, i promise you i am not keeping secrets. well, just one. but i was going to tell you soon! it just wasn’t the right time.” 

you tried to back out of his grip but his arms tightened around you, keeping you against him. “we promised not to keep secrets.” 

he laughed, “i can’t exactly tell you about my plan to propose, can i?” 

you went rigid, “you better not be fucking kidding, kim mingyu.” 

“i’m not fucking kidding, angel. that was wonwoo on the phone earlier. he’s been keeping the ring hidden at his place for months. he’s dropping it off tomorrow and we had to coordinate when he could swing by because i didn’t want you to be here. didn’t want to ruin the surprise. guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” he laughed, squeezing you even tighter to him. 

you suddenly felt very stupid. and so guilty. how could you wreck his surprise like this? you felt like crying, “i’m so sorry gyu. i shouldn’t have assumed and now i’ve ruined the whole thing.” 

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “angel, you ruined nothing. you should’ve just asked me in the first place, though. could’ve saved yourself all this heartache.” 

belly full of sushi, comfort show playing on the tv, mingyu by your side, you have never felt more content. you loved this man so much and you couldn’t wait to be his wife. 

“wait, are you proposing tomorrow?” 

[r3starttt]

YOUR WOMAN

☆ lawyer! Abby

CW: dom-top! abby. sub! reader. thigh riding. spanking. good girl-princess-angel.

Abby was beyond exhausted. This whole week had been full of dumb people bothering her and her current clients - a married couple, because there were papers missing or formalities unfinished.

And no matter what she did, there was always something wrong, and having the patience she has, whenever she was awake her humor was horrible, which lead to her keeping distance with you. Whenever she tried to sleep, she couldn't, and it was torture to see your clearly hurt expression or having the most stressful nightmares whenever she could finally close her eyes.

She'd proposed to spend the whole weekend with you, but of course she couldn't get what she wanted, ever.

Starting with her being awake early in the morning by the stress and all the caffeine she consumed a day before making effect on her body, still. Then, her clients panicking over another important paper deal that apparently had to do with her. She couldn't even have a proper breakfast, not even sit next to you and at least watch you eat and hear you talk about your week. Nothing.

So when the sunlight started to fade, you felt like a blessing appeared. Forgetting about how much you've needed her the whole week, you needed her to have a rest, to distract her mind a little. And what's better than you both getting what you much need in a little time? She sure can get some minutes for this.

So, with only one of her t shirts you innocently walked outside her office, around thousands of times before she noticed you. Or so you thought since you heard that pretty laugh she has. The one that she uses for mocking you, such a pleasure.

"Come here" she looked tired, and it made you regret your plan, just for a couple seconds before you saw the veins on her hands shine just perfectly when she patted on her lap for you to come sit on her.

"What're you doing? Mhm?" You placed your legs intertwined with hers, making yourself comfortable in the small chair she had been working at all day. Hesitating a little, you responded "nothing?"

"Oh, sure we're doing nothing?" Her fingers trailed a small path along the sides of your thighs, rolling the hem of your shirt up your hips. You, on the other hand, let your weight rest fully on her, positioning the palms of your hands on top of her shoulders to keep you in place.

"I'm pretty sure we do" your fingers grabbed the sides of her glasses gently, taking them off. While placing them on top of the wooden desk, you took a glance at the screen, almost darkening at how long it had been since she paid attention to it.

As much as you desired her, you couldn't dare to keep her busy from work, which didn't seem like the occasion.

Her usual braid was messy, with some locks of her hair dancing above her cheeks. You moved them behind her ears, tracing a path down her neck which was lately followed by your lips letting open mouthed kisses along it.

The pressure growing in between your legs grew at each move you or her did. Her leg bouncing felt like hell, and you couldn't help but rub yourself on her. You could feel her grinding, her hands leading your ass as she pleased.

Your last sight was her eyes closing, previously for you. Her mouth opening very slightly as the feeling of your saliva sent shivers to her whole body.

The grip on your lower back got tighter, lowering till her hands were fully grasping at your ass, trying to prevent you from moving. You only kept on fighting her. "Don't" she hissed.

You laughed in between kisses, ending in her clavicle connected to your lips by a small trail of saliva. Your hips kept on grinding on her lap, and by how her leg also kept bouncing you thought she was just fine with it, she wasn't.

"Fuck it, stop" her voice sounded too overwhelmed for you to take it serious, until she made you take it seriously. "Stop it, stay".

You whined at it, annoyed by all her restrictions even when she was the one that needed a hard fuck this time. You hate- despised that stubborn side of her, the one that kept you under her control all the time, because what else could you want on days like this than just please her and make her cum all over you, make her take a proper break. Fuck her.

You were ready to just sit on her lap, have a quick make out session and leave her alone, but that's not what she meant, and you knew it.

"Don't act like that" her thumb slided outside your lips, down your chin. "You wanted my attention, so bad? Then fucking take it"

Your tongue slid out your lips, making space for her fingers. Her hand pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against you in such messy kiss. Drool all over your faces.

She'd laugh in between kisses, pressing you closer by holding the back of your head and practically lead you to where she wanted, how she wanted.

She could feel- see the damp spot on her pants, growing every time she groaned in your mouth, whined at you deliciously you'd tuck at her braid. She couldn't wait any longer either.

Her hands pressed on your chest, pushing you enough for her to have space to speak. "You're gonna take my pants off" she murmured, her nose dancing closely to yours "and you're gonna ride 'em"

You stupidly nodded, standing on your feet again, taking your time to get rid of her belt and- god, such gorgeous view. The warm light of her office lightening her legs, her thighs, her stomach showing once you made a mess of her and her blouse. "Sit"

You did as you were told, sitting as you were in the very first beginning. "You think you can get yourself off?" Her hands kept you in place, not even letting you realize what was happening. You just nodded, letting her manhandle you as she wished.

"Good" you heard her husky voice, her hands making circles along the fat of your ass, leading you up her thigh, then down her knee. You let out small whimpers, already pooling her whole leg, clenching at the emptiness. "Good girl"

Every time your clit rubbed against her skin- there was such an obscene sound, wet, loud. Abby couldn't help but widen her smile, you looked so inviting, so pretty, just for her. Smile that vacuumed out of her face the moment you, cautionary, tried to increase the speed.

Her hand moved off your ass, slapping it just a few seconds later. You felt your legs shake at it, such delicious pleasure with a mix of pain starting to mix just right near your cunt. "So wet mhm? Like it when I do that?" She mocked.

"Making a mess on me" her lips pressed over your clavicle, leaving tender kisses along it. Your lips kept right next to her ear, giving her the privilege of hearing your agitated breathing, your whines and pleads over and over again.

There was a knot of pleasure appearing on your stomach, her hands, her words, her smell, her everything was making you insane. The feeling of her bare legs somehow hitting your clit and arousal just perfectly, as if your bodies were made to fit with each other. You knew you wouldn't last long.

The plush of your thighs got harshly gripped by her fingers. "I know baby, I know" You replied equally, holding yourself with the help of your hands on her neck, now being lead to a much satisfying and fast speed than before. "C'mon"

"It's okay angel, yeah, yeah" Abby mumbled as she felt your body filling on top of her. She felt the wetness on her thigh increasing more and more, you could only thank her for it. "Ride it out, just like that"

"Fuck- abby" You let out breathlessly, your voice sloghtly acute. Her hands moved to your back, holding you in place. You looked fucking gorgeous. "Such a good girl f' me princess. Did so good f' me" your ears got covered in a wave of compliments, how you've done so good, how pretty you looked, all followed by kisses on your temple, circles on your back. God she was fucking sweet.

"Come here" you shifter your gaze upwards, meeting her eyes, so shiny and full of adoration. "Kiss" your lips pressed on hers, not caring about your still pretty evident exhaustion or the mess you've done.

"Do me a favor" she mumbled, giving you a short kiss after. You replied with a quiet 'yeah?'.

"Lick my thigh clean, can you?" a sheepish smile adorned your face, rolling your eyes yet doing as she asked you to, a favor, right?

Your feet stepped the cold floor, slowly getting on your knees. Leaning your head closer to her thigh, you stick out your tongue, taking a taste of the mess you've done on her. Your eyes never left hers.

Her fingers trailed the path of your cheek bones, as if she was still guiding you through it.

Your hands travelled to the sides of her legs, stopped by her own hands once she realized what you were trying to do. "Nuh uh, go get clean and take a nap" your tongue got back to its place, leaving one last kiss on her thigh. You weren't planing on fighting with her.

"Good" You stood up, giving her a last glance, taking note of how she looked even when half of her wasn't an unusual view for you. "Promise I'll finish... all this" her hand signaled to her screen, clearly still a bit stressed by her work. "Then I'll be with you, doing whatever you want, yeah?" You simply smiled at her, trying to let abby know she could always take her time. You'd wait an eternity for her if necessary.

"How's that sound then?" You humorously rolled your eyes "perfect" her hands opened one more time, making space for you. You followed her, feeling her hands embrace you.

"Thanks" she murmured, her voice muffled but her face being so close to your stomach. You laughed, completely enamored by her, your hands caressing her hair. "I better get what I want later"

Abby pushed you away gently, laughing back and nodding at your request. "Go" You turned around, getting to feel her hands one last time, on your ass, so sweet of her, right?

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 2 - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader

no content warnings in this part, i promise the next part will have some actual fluff to it

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

y/n was easily won over by chicken nuggets and a diet coke - a fact lando knew too well. both he and max had both spent almost hundreds on the food combo every time y/n was roped into one of their plans. whether she was lying to her parents to cover up where max had been all night, or even just being asked to hold a camera or a boom mic for a quadrant video, she was always rewarded with 6 chicken nuggets and a diet coke.

lando had in fact not included max in his late night plans, and very quickly made it known as to why.

“so, how’s uni?” he asked, warming her up for the incoming conversation, turning onto a side road and pulling the car to a stop.

“yea it’s good thanks, how’s driving?”

“could be better, i could be better,” he smiled sadly, but glad she asked about driving as she fell directly into his trap, “why did you stop coming to races?”

“lando,” she sighs his name, almost disappointed in him for even asking, “university’s a lot of work you know. i can’t fly around the world to watch you drive a car. and, i still watch the races - just from home.”

“so it’s nothing to do with me?”

“well ignoring me for a year doesn’t help your case, but no, it’s not to do with you. you know i’ll always be there when i can. when im invited,” the emphasis on invited hung like hot air in the car, and created and unsettling silence.

“lan, can i ask you a question?” she said, breaking the awkward atmosphere in the car.

“mhm, anything.”

“why did you stop talking to me? i know we’re not as close as you and max,” she adds, lando almost wincing at the mention of his best friend, “and i know you were busy being, you know, a superstar and that. but even over your break, i saw you like twice in passing.”

“im sorry y/n, honestly it wasn’t intentiona-”

“bullshit, try again norris. the truth this time.”

lando breathed in deep, as if to lock and load his next statement.

“max he, uh, he told me he’d seen some pictures of us. you remember that club in monaco?,” she nodded in response, remembering the encounter with lando that night in somewhat drunken detail, “he wasn’t happy with me. thought we had something going on behind his back. y/n when i say angry, i mean he was one step away from beating me up and then keying my car.”

“but there was nothi- i mean we weren’t d-”

“i know, i tried to tell him,” lando sighed, “he gets a bit, let’s say ‘over protective’ with you i guess. doesn’t trust me maybe? i don’t know.”

“so instead of letting me discuss it with him, you refused to acknowledge my existence for a year? yeah that’s mint, let’s do that,” she said, the sarcasm rolling off her tongue.

“i was a dick, ok - i’m sorry. but your brother is slightly terrifying when he’s angry. think he’s realised he was wrong - that’s why he let you come to the race im guessing.”

he was wrong - but was he? was max completely wrong to assume what he had? she thought the feelings were mutual but clearly lando had other ideas.

“can i drive your car?” y/n asked, smiling over to lando in the drivers seat. he’s started driving around aimlessly again, deciding to put an end to the conversation about where they stood with each other. his head whipped around to look at her, his eyebrows quirked up in a mix of confusion and immediate refusal. he wasn’t even driving one of his more expensive cars, as they all stayed in monaco. but of course, lando norris needs a high end car in every country.

“please, lan,” she said again, eyes widening in attempt to tug on his heart strings, “please. i miss driving, i haven’t driven since like, christmas since my car died and went to car heaven.”

“y/n, angel,” the nickname wasn’t something new, but it still flipped something about in her stomach, ”if anything, that makes me want to say no even more. besides, it’s automatic - you drive manual.”

“oh come on, it’s literally just a pedal for stop and go. please.”

“not tonight,” he said, looking at her to show his sad frown as if that would make her happy about the rejection, “if i get podium tomorrow, ill put some money towards getting you a new car.”

“lan, please you don’t have to do that.”

“i know i don’t have to. i want to. besides, if i get podium i think i owe my lucky charm something to show my gratitude, no?” he said. y/n knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win, so she smiled up at him, nodding slightly.

the car fell back into a silence, comfortable this time, with only the sound of lando’s music playing quietly out of the speakers, and the odd whooshing of a car driving past.

the car came to a still, the red light reflected on the their faces as they waited for the light to change.

“the stars look pretty tonight,” she said absentmindedly. y/n was never one to sit in silence without at least attempting to fill it.

“yeah, they do,” lando responded, although he wasn’t looking at the stars, moreover, he was staring directly at the light reflecting onto y/n’s face. his own mouth curling up into a smile when he saw your soft features grinning contently at the sky.

it was around 1am when y/n and lando returned to the hotel car park, casually discussing life at university and where y/n saw herself using her degree in the future.

“i think it’s better if we don’t tell max about this,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side, catching lando’s eyes. her own eyes blinking slowly in exhaustion.

“i think so too. are you going to tell him what i said?”

“not right now. but i refuse to let him believe has any right to threaten his own friends in a bid to control my life,” she says, her body now twisted fully to face him directly.

“just,” he sighed, “dont get violent,” his hand reaching over to rest on her knee.

“me? violent? that is a bold accusation, norris.”

“y/n - i know you. just don’t be too harsh, he thought he was doing what was best.”

“thinking is always max’s downfall,” she responds with a snort. she turns her body back, arm reaching to grab the handle when lando catches her other arm, forcing her to look at him again.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“i’ll be there.”

sneaking back into a room was usually y/n’s specialty, but she’d never attempted to sneak past max before. rather, her teens were spent sneaking back into the house with max. unlocking the door and pulling the handle down, y/n pushed softly on the wood, but the creaking was so loud in the silence of their hotel room. the floor boards to her bag of clothes seemed to have a vendetta against her today too, she could’ve sworn they did not creak when she had walked across them earlier.

the bathroom tap decided to splutter loudly and spit freezing cold water down her, and the door to slide back open and allow the stream of light to fall directly on max’s face.

“y/n?” her brother groaned, “you just come back in?”

“yeah, sorry - i tried to be quiet,” she whispered back, turning the bathroom light off and stumbling gracefully through the dark room to the sofa.

“it’s 1am? you were in the gym for 3 hours?”

“erm, yeah,” her voice wavered in the lie, “i got distracted on the treadmill. tired myself out though.”

max grumbled something in response, too sleepy to say anything further.

the next morning max walked down to the hotel lobby, passing the gym in his journey for breakfast.

open 7:00 - 23:00

hang on, he thought to himself, shut at 11?

where had his sister been? she couldn’t have been in the gym till 1am, so where had she been, and why had she lied?

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes

[epitaph-of-rebirth]

Doing this post to explain what lots of people missed on the Cait x Maddie thing and are just angry and freaking out about the character and not understanding WHY and also show that they already broke up and will not be danger on act 3 (srly I really believe on this and feel like we all missed because is a small scene).

So here is a explanation on WHY, because I'm going crazy that you'll missed lots of things.

Some of the explanation that I'll put here we got from Amanda Overton itself (you know, one of the writers of the show) on the epi4 watchalong party (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgpWJl1NuTE) the rest is showed on the episode 4 itself so here we go (Also SPOILERS FOR ACT2 here):

First, Amanda told us that the time skip from Act 1 to Act 2 is between 3 and 6 months, is not bigger than that like some you are saying. What is very helpful to know that Cait x Maddie affair also isn't happening for so long and we get this information from Ambessa herself when meeting them on Cait's office:

Caitlyn didn't rebound imediatly after the breakup, her thing with Maddie is recent, a few weeks at maximum or one or two night stands. Yes guys, you can stop being mad thinking that she fucking Maddie for months.

Also a important piece of information that again, Amanda shared, is Caitlyn's mentality about this relationship:

She is not after Maddie because she felt for another person, Caitlyn is struggling to live up to the ghost of Cassandra, she is trying to be the daughter she never was and this affect's even who she dates.

Amanda literally told that in Cait's mind she is thinking: "What if I dated someone my mom would approve of?"

Lot's of people think that Cassandra approved Vi because of the council scene but in Caitlyn's mind that's not the truth. Maddie is someone who would be approved, she is from piltover, probably has some family name and has a good job.

With all that, why a sex scene ? Well is very clear that Caitlyn is not able to be vulnerable anymore, the only one she let's under her wall's after her mom's death is Vi and it was already hinted that for Caitlyn's flirting with woman casually was a natural thing.

The only way for her to "date" someone without being able to be vulnerable, is by the thing she knows she can separate her feelings and don't need to be vulnerable to do it: sex. And we can in this case considerate that sex is also a way for her to cope with all like Vi does with alcohol.

Also even after having sex with Maddie, Cait clearly don't want the girl touching her and this is show not only by her expressions:

But also on the way both are dressed, Caitlyn's is untouched and clothed while Maddie is basically naked under her shirt and messy, giving a subtext of Cait being a top on this encounter so she can evade Maddie's touch.

And right after the scene we can see that Maddie herself KNOWS that Cait is evading her and not wanting to be touched, she KNOWS something is wrong and that Cait seems to not listen to her.

Other information that is given by Amanda, is that Ambessa is supposed to be the devil on Caitlyn's shoulder while Maddie is to make the position of a angel. The character exists to show that Caitlyn wasn't alone against Ambessa manipulation and make clear that she has some foot herself to be able to see what is right and wrong and later realize her wrong doings and fix that.

And now comes the part I feel like most people missed and are worried about in act3.

Maddie and Cait already ended their relationship, how I know? the statue scene:

Here we can see again Maddie looking up for Cait but Cait not acknowledging the girl existence until last minute when seems like Maddie told something.

Caitlyn's expression again is cold and then we can see Maddie's:

She is thinking and ready to cry and also show some hurt. She probably is ending things with Cait because the next time we see Cait. Is from Maddies eyes, something that fortiche does a lot and did on that very famous CaitVi bed scene. And this time is done again but we are looking at Caitlyn from Maddie's eyes:

The upper and low corner's are blurry, as if Maddie is almost crying. Also we can see Cait looking the ground and thinking on the next frames, as if reacting to something said to her.

And here is their breakup.

Yes is not a spoken scene, but considering how small her relationship is to Caitlyn, makes sense for things to end and Cait not really give much thought about it.

After that we NEVER see Maddie anymore, she is not on the side of Caitlyn for the rest of the act, and also Cait is always using her Commander cape after this scene, what makes clear: She is totally on the side of Ambessa, the devil won and the angel left.

And this cape is another thing that is used to reflect Caitlyn's mental state and choices, because we only see her back to her uniform without the cape, when she decided to ally with Vi by the end of the Act 2

I understand people who got annoyed by having "another one" in the middle of CaitVi ship and yes I know everybody worry about this making messy their reunion, but I feel like most people forgot that in Arcane, and on this season mainly, lots of things are being show by the art and animation and not by text, like the statue one.

Srly guys CaitVi will be alright, Maddie is not a horrible characters and this was not a bad choice to show Caitlyn mental state and character development. I understand being bitter with the angst but also let ourselves enjoy it a little.

[danibeanie]

Vibes & Beauty Astro observations 🩶

Stelliums💘

-i noticed girlies that have a stellium seem to have a stronger impression on people.Its very common to hear “I love your energy.”

-gemini stellium, love talking, mischievous eyes, sharp beauty,usually long brows,high pitched voice, playful,hair color very saturated like if you got dark hair it’s BLACK or light hair it’s super blonde.

-virgo stellium, just like their mercurial, but a bit more calm and reserved,down to earth voice,”girl me too”,natural beauty,can have a rbf,observant eyes.

-aries stellium, miss independent(love that tho), flushed cheeks, straightforward,intimidating, knows who she is, pronounced brows wether thin or thick they stand out,childlike eyes,gorg girlies.

-pisces stellium, eyes stand out wether it be color or shape you just notice them, kind & pure,high voices just like gemini but they don’t change it as much, cute, creates softness to the face,angels.

-usually when you have a stellium in a chart your gonna attract other people with a stellium as well

Eyes 👀

- water moon girlies have emotional eyes. Its even more pronounced when you have a moon conjunction with inner planets.

Cancer- looks through your soul, “what’s wrong you look sad?”,doe eyes,vulnerable ,pretty eyes ,guys nervous to look at your eyes,manipulative eyes.

Scorpio- intense,intense,intense,darker eyes DOESN’T matter the color, reads u like a book, hiding something,intimidating,mix of siren/doe

Pisces-so prettyyy,lots of eyelid space for some,in tune with other people,pure eyes,mysterious eyes ,long lashes, princess.

-I might just do a series on this!

-Lilith energy🖤

-When having prominent Lilith energy your just going to stand out somehow wether it be ur looks or personality. There’s just something to these people that makes u wanna watch.

-this may be a theory but I believe your lilith placement affects your looks even if it doesn’t tough your ascendant but it has to STRONGLY prounounced to ur personal planets.

-ex I have a Gemini stellium and I have sun moon and mercury conjunction all in 2nd house. My ascendent is in Taurus and my lilith in Gemini conjunct my sun and mercury but not my moon because it’s in an early degree cancer. I’m also a late taurus rising making half of my 1st house gemini. Also my Venus is in gemini in 1st house even though Lilith doesn’t touch my Venus it’s very pronounced in my 2nd house.(2’d house is Taurus home-connection to ascendent)

-All my life guys never approached me and when the few of them did they all had heavy mars energy wether being scorpio or Aries. I find myself attracted to Leo energy and I believe it’s because they match my strong energy. Insecure guys get intimidated by you and treat u like shit.Then get mad when you leave them but still keep on coming back?😭but for some reason expect you to be on the side like no sir we are all #1s here.I though u didn’t like me why are u trying to get my attention when u clearly didn’t want it yesterday.

-even if you try to hide your body for some reason it’s still noticed, “your so tiny” I’ve learned to embrace my body the older I get. confidence is key YALL!

-super black hair,I can’t tell u how many times people have commented on how dark my hair is😭

-mysterious vibe without even trying, my friends have told me this when I walk at the campus.

- I have a bestie with lilith energy as well but it squares her ascendent and mercury many people thought she was a b when first meeting her(even me).She also has mars conjunct ascendent lmao but I love her and our vibes just match each other. I feel like my Venus energy tames my lilith energy a bit more but it’s still there 😭

-guys just don’t approach u period :/

bye y’all thank u so much for the support in my last 2 posts lot of love🖤

[stinkysam]

Lucifer Morningstar - Wrong impression.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “May I request Hazbin Lucifer x Gojo! Gn reader? Strongest vs the strongest energy” - anon

Reader : you / yours

A/N : probably didn't go the route you wanted… but I'm not that good with character!reader. Hope you still like it !

When meeting you, Lucifer was quite nervous. You were one of the strongest overlord of hell and had made your way up very quickly after your arrival down here. Upon shaking your hand, beads of sweat glided down his forehead.

What kind of business did you have with his daughter ? Why were you here ? He wondered, eyeing Charlie quickly.

His smile was a big toothy one but you could tell he wasn't very comfortable, he even wiped his hand on his coat after shaking yours. Subconsciously.

You weren't necessarily imposing or intimidating -though you were really good looking- so he had no reason to be nervous. You were even warm and welcoming toward him. And quite charming. Yet there was something else about you he couldn't put his finger on.

And you don't become an overlord by just being kind and goofy. You had to be powerful and dangerous. But who said you couldn't be all that ?

He expected it to be a ruse to manipulate his daughter and him. So with squinted eyes he watched your every move to find the moment you would drop the act.

But it never happened. Maybe it was because he had so much on his plate ? Trying to form a bond with his daughter, keeping an eye out for Alastor and another one for you.

But your warm smile seemed genuine and you never once put yourself between him and Charlie like Alastor had done, claiming she could almost call him “dad” in their song.

You seemed to be close with Charlie's friends as well and they didn't seem to be worried about themselves with you being an overlord. You even seemed like a close friend of theirs. And the feeling was apparently reciprocated.

With a frown, Lucifer decided to give you a chance, waiting for you to slip up and show your true intentions, but it never happened. Until the fight against Adam with his exorcists.

Like him you had arrived late and like him again you had shown arrogance and confidence as you fought the angels. You killed them without mercy and easily and it even looked like you were finding it… boring ?

They were too weak for you and you knew it. It was easy to protect the cannibals and Charlie's friends.

You clearly wanted to have a go with Adam but let Lucifer handle it, you knew he could stand against him after all.

And he did.

Charlie had to stop him from landing the finishing blow and you wondered if you would have listened. If Lucifer had listened then maybe you would have too.

But Nifty didn't seem to have the same moral compass as you or Lucifer as she stabbed Adam to his death. Several times. While laughing.

The fight was over, very few exorcists remained and Lute flew away with them and Adam's halo. You helped rebuild the hotel with a nice song to motivate you and your friends and especially Charlie who felt down after all the bloodshed.

But before you could leave to go back to your quarters, Lucifer came to you, rather nervously. You turned to him, and stared.

“Er… You're not so bad, finally.” Lucifer said, fiddling with his bow-tie before extending his hand out.

“You thought I was bad ?” You raise an eyebrow, amused and shake his hand. This time he doesn't wipe it on his coat.

“The whole overlord title doesn't really go in favor of being… good.”

“Neither does the title of King of Hell. And yet, here you are !” You smiled, nudging him lightly with your elbow and he chuckled at your remark.

“Yes. I guess so.” Lucifer smiled and looked up at you. “Thank you for being here for my daughter. I mean it.”

You only grinned proudly, planting your hands in your pockets after patting his shoulder.

“Oh well, she's worth it.”

Lucifer returned your smile, happy to see Charlie had a powerful friend like you beside her. Not like that radio demon who seemed more than sketchy. Maybe he could count on you to watch that demon and stop him from harming his precious daughter.

And maybe even he could see you as a friend.

[girlgenius1111]

i'll angel in the snow until i'm worthy

putellas!reader [p2 to make it through the winter if it kills me] tw: contains descriptions of self harm. a long look back at what happened a year ago, when alexia found out. a brief glimpse into the present.

“Alexia,” you called. Your tone didn’t reflect the urgency of the situation, and Alexia didn’t think to be alarmed when she answered you. 

“In the kitchen.” She replied, assuming you would come to her. 

“Alexia,” you yelled again. This time, some fear leaked into your tone, and you knew your sister had heard it. Her footsteps were loud, stomping down the hall, and to the door of your room. She pushed it open without a second thought, eyes widening in panic. 

“Fuck.” To her credit, Alexia moved fast. She was grabbing a towel from the linen closet and sprinting back to your side before you had time to try to say anything, pressing it down on your leg hard. 

“Okay, okay. We’re okay. Everything is fine.” You weren’t sure if your sister was reassuring herself, or you. 

You didn’t know what had happened. One second you were tracing the familiar lines on your leg with your finger, the next, you had a blade in your hand, and you’d pushed just a bit too deep. It was bleeding. A lot. You didn’t know if you needed stitches, if something was wrong, but you knew that you weren’t in the right mind to deal with it. In your moment of panic, you called for Alexia. You trusted her to fix it. To fix you. 

Alexia’s eyes were stuck on you, stuck on your leg. Your shorts were pulled up, and if Alexia had ever thought that this was an accident, she no longer did so. The scars marking your skin told a different story, and as your sister stared down at your leg, her horror was evident on her face. 

Alexia was speechless, and your sister was never speechless. If she were to be honest, she didn’t know what to  do. Here you were, in front of her, clearly not doing well. And she hadn’t noticed. You’d been doing this for long enough for there to be numerous scars on your body, and she hadn’t noticed. 

You, too, had no idea what to say. Calling for her had been an instinct, but now that the panic had left your body a bit, you regretted it with every fiber of your being. She was going to freak out, you were sure of it. 

She kept her composure longer than you expected, long enough for the bleeding to stop. She pulled the towel away from your leg and inspected the damage that you’d done. It wasn’t as bad as it had seemed originally, and you sighed in relief. At least you wouldn’t be dragged to the hospital. Before you’d really even had time to really be grateful for that, Alexia was fixing you with a piercing stare, a slew of words leaving her mouth that reflected very clearly her feelings on the situation. 

“What the fuck is this, nena? What were you thinking? I- I don’t understand, what would possess you to do something so incredibly stupid. This could have gone deeper, this could have needed stitches. What then, hmm? This is not okay, pequeña, and it stops, now.” 

Alexia wasn’t even quite sure what she was saying, her heart racing in her ears as she panicked. She was terrified. You always put on such a happy exterior, and it was beyond frightening that she’d had no idea, not even a clue, that this had been going on. You lived with her, you spent everyday together, and she’d been completely oblivious to the fact that you were hurting so badly, you’d turned to this. She felt like she’d failed you, failed your mom, failed everyone. She was supposed to take care of you, and protect you.

None of these sentiments were expressed, though. Instead, she practically shouted at you, not sure what to say or do, other than make sure, make completely sure, that you’d never do this again. A pained look flashed across your face, before it was replaced with one of defiance. You stood up, shoving your sister away from you. 

“It’s fine, Alexia. This is none of your business, please, just leave.” 

Alexia scoffed, rising to her feet too. “Leave? Leave. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again. I’ll take your door off the hinges if that's what it takes but this cannot happen again, do you understand?”

Your sister didn’t understand. Never in her life had she felt the need to do something like this, and her mind was not focused on trying to understand where your head was at, it was only on making sure you were safe. She didn’t know that you needed this, more than you needed anything. It was the only thing you had, the only thing you could rely on to make yourself feel better. She couldn’t take this away, you wouldn’t survive it. 

“Fine, I won’t do it again. Get out.” You lied, shoving her towards the door. Your sister shook her head, seeing clearly through your lie, pushing you right back. 

Despite her shove, she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, to calm the situation down. “No. We need to talk about this, we need to fix it. Give me your phone, I need to call mom.” Alexia reached her hand out, freezing at the look on your face. At the mention of your mother, all the color drained from your face, and you stepped backwards, shaking your head frantically. 

“Alexia, don’t you dare, mom does not need to know about this, you can’t tell her, you can’t tell anyone.” 

“I have to tell people to get you help, nena, mom needs to know, the club needs to know,”  Alexia rationalized, stepping closer, her hands raised in a soothing manner. 

“NO. Alexia, you cannot tell anyone this, you can’t. I don’t need help. There is no issue, I am fine. I won’t do it again, I promise, Alexia, I promise. Please, just please don’t tell anyone. Please.” You begged, tears beginning to well in your eyes. 

Your sister’s frustration only grew. How could you say you were fine? How could you say you didn’t need help? It was absurd, completely absurd to her, that you could think this was okay. 

“Pequeña, either there is an issue, and you need help, or there is no issue, and you just wanted my attention. You have it, sí? So which is it?” She spoke slowly and carefully, only realizing she’d said the wrong thing only when you flushed red with anger, hands connecting with her chest again, harder this time. She stumbled backwards, not expecting it, and you moved right past her, fleeing through your bedroom door. 

Attention. Attention? How could she say that, how could she possibly think that? You didn’t want her to know. This was your thing, it was none of her business. It had nothing to do with your self centered, overbearing sister, and it made you livid that she’d think to say that. You ran down the stairs, shorts rubbing painfully at the open wounds on your leg. You weren’t quite sure where you were going, but you couldn’t be here anymore, not with Alexia. Not if she was going to insist on talking about this, insist on acting like you’d done something horrible. 

“Come back, now, pequeña, don’t you dare leave this house.” Alexia shouted after you, rushing down the stairs just a second too late, the front door slamming shut just before she reached it. She was panicking now, panicking for real, as she threw the door open and stepped outside, just in time to see you start her Cupra, backing it out of the driveway. Your sister stood frozen, watching as you drove away, so worried she thought she might be sick. 

She didn’t know where you were going, or what you were going to do. You’d taken the only car at home, and she had no way to go after you. Alexia stepped back in the house, looking for her phone. She needed Olga to come home, now. Olga would know what to say, she’d know where you were going. She was perfect like that, knew you almost as well as Alexia did. When your sister lost her head at you, Olga was the first one to calm things down. Alexia needed Olga, now, more than she’d ever needed anyone in her life. 

-----

You didn’t go far. Only a few blocks to Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment, parking the car, and taking the elevator up to their floor, pitifully knocking on the door, hoping to god they were home

Mapi knew. She’d known for a few weeks, after she’d caught a glimpse of your leg when you hadn’t changed quick enough in the locker room. Unlike your sister, she hadn’t freaked out. She’d picked you up later that day, making an excuse that she needed your advice on a gift for Ingrid, driving you guys to the beach, before she brought it up. Mapi was kind, compassionate about it. She told you what you needed to hear, realizing that you were not quite at the point of stopping. Mapi knew she had to discuss this delicately, that pushing you too hard too soon would only do the opposite of what she wanted. All she asked of you was that you talk to her more. She’d promised you that she’d help you figure everything out, that you’d do everything at your pace. She’d promised she wouldn’t tell Alexia, if you promised to be honest with her. You’d kept her promise, and she’d kept hers. You were probably only a few minutes from calling her and asking for her to come get you when you’d panicked, and decided to call for your sister. Mapi always knew what to say after- not making you feel guilty, or stupid, but not sugar coating everything either. She’d told you, about a thousand times, that if you needed her, to call or come over. No matter what. 

You were still pretty closed off from her, and Mapi wasn’t expecting you to take her up on that offer. She moved quickly, though, when she pulled open the door and caught sight of you, arms wrapped around yourself, shaking enough for it to be visible. 

“Hey, nena,” she murmured, guiding you into the house and right into a tight hug. “What happened?” She asked, making eye contact with Ingrid over the top of your head. Ingrid knew too, mostly because Mapi didn’t keep things from her girlfriend. You trusted Ingrid, too, as much as you trusted Mapi, even if you didn’t rely on her in the same way. 

“Ale knows,” you cried. “I cut too deep and I called for her and she freaked out, Maps, she was so mad,” 

This wasn’t good. Mapi knew Alexia well, and knew how quick she was to respond with anger when she was scared. There was no doubt in the defender’s mind that this is what happened. If past fights were any indication, you’d likely fled before Alexia could really understand what was going on. You were Mapi’s priority, though. She took a calming breath, before pulling away and putting her hands on your shoulders. “I’ll take care of it, alright? Just try to relax. Go with Ingrid, she’ll patch you up. I’ll call your sister.” 

“Mapi,” you began, not feeling at all interested in facing your sister anytime soon. 

Mapi could be strict when she wanted to be, though, and she shook her head firmly. “No, she needs to know you’re okay. Go with Ingrid.” 

Reluctantly, you turned to where Ingrid was waiting for you, first aid kit somehow already in hand. She led you out to their little terrace, settling you both in chairs before she asked you to roll up your shorts. To her credit, she didn’t flinch, only blinking a few times before she got to work cleaning and bandaging. 

“You know Mapi wants another cat?” She said after a minute, glancing up at you. You choked out a laugh, wiping at your eyes. 

“Bagheera is not made to be a sibling, she’s much too spoiled for that.” 

“That’s what I’ve been telling her, but you know how she gets.” Ingrid agreed, very easily distracting you. You fell into conversation with her, most of it at Mapi’s expense. As if Ingrid wasn’t cleaning your cut, as if she wasn’t bandaging the wound you’d inflicted on yourself. 

-----

Inside, Mapi was trying to prepare herself to call Alexia. Your sister would not be happy that Mapi had known about this and kept it to herself, but the defender had been doing what was best for you. Her plan was to get you to tell your sister eventually, once you’d warmed up to the idea a bit more. It was too late for that, now, so she clicked Alexia’s contact. The speed with which your sister answered clued Mapi into how truly panicked Alexia must have been. Alexia was famously awful at answering her phone, but she must have had it right in hand, waiting to hear from you, before Mapi had called. 

“María,” Alexia began, seconds away from begging Mapi to help her look for you. 

“She’s here, Ale. She’s here, she’s with me and Ingrid, and she’s completely fine.” 

“She- she’s there? With you?” There was a pause, muffled voices hitting Mapi’s ear as Alexia assumedly relayed the information to Olga. “Mapi she’s hurt,” 

“I know. Ingrid’s taking care of it. Why don’t you come over?” 

“You know? She told you? Why are you being so calm about this María?” Ever observant, and ever suspicious, Alexia was alarmed at how little surprise and anxiety was notable in her best friend’s voice. 

“She told me. Just come over, Ale, we can talk about it. Bring Olga, she makes you act like less of a crazy person.” 

-----

Alexia must have done some thinking on the short drive to Mapi’s because she came in guns blazing. Mapi was being too calm about this. The seemingly random increase in time she’d been spending with you was now making more sense. Mapi had known. Mapi had known that Alexia’s baby sister was hurting herself, and the defender hadn’t told her. 

“You knew.” Alexia accused, pushing past Mapi to enter the apartment, Olga trailing behind her. Mapi nodded her head. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.” 

“She wasn’t ready for you to know. She didn’t think you’d react well, and clearly she was right.” There was no malice behind Mapi’s words, but Alexia responded like there had been. 

“How I react is none of your business, María. Where is she? I'm taking her home.”  

“She’s on the terrace with Ingrid.” Alexia stopped her pacing, turning towards the sliding door, spotting the back of your head through the clear glass. Mapi stopped her. 

“Not yet, we need to talk first.” She said carefully, not backing down when Alexia turned back to her, the captain’s face fixed with an intense, fury filled expression. 

“María, I appreciate you taking care of her, but I am taking my sister home. Now. I’ll deal with you later.” 

Mapi shook her head, looking to Olga for help, knowing that although she could probably stop Alexia from going out there to get you, she’d rather not have to do so. Olga stepped closer, placing a careful hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Alexia’s body deflated at the contact, and she turned towards the brunette, suddenly looking much less angry, and much more upset. 

“Let’s hear Mapi out, okay? I know you’re mad, but she’s your best friend, and you trust her. If she didn’t tell you, she had a reason. If she wants to talk before we take pequeña home, she has a reason. Ingrid’s got your sister, let’s just take a moment to relax.” 

As if hypnotized, Alexia nodded gently, flopping exhaustedly onto the couch. Mapi took a careful seat in the chair across from her, while Olga sat next to Alexia, keeping a calming hand on her leg. Privately, the defender wondered how differently this would be going if Olga wasn’t here. All her teammates gave her so much shit, constantly, for being completely whipped for Ingrid. Though this wasn’t a story Mapi would ever tell, she wished, briefly, that she could present the evidence that her tough captain was down just as bad for her own girlfriend. 

Mapi took a breath, thinking carefully about how she wanted to start this. She wasn’t sure how to make your sister understand, but she’d try her best.

-----

Ingrid could keep small talk up for a long time, it turned out. Through the raised voices, and even when they quieted down, Ingrid kept you talking. Eventually, after you glanced back inside nervously for the 5th time that minute, the Norwegian gave up on distracting you. 

“She’s not mad at you. I don’t know what she said, and I know it probably feels like she’s angry, but she’s not. She’s scared, and she’s worried about you. She just loves you a lot, and she’s not sure what to do.” 

Hesitantly, you leaned over, resting your head on Ingrid’s shoulder. “She’s going to make me stop.” 

“You were always going to have to stop. This isn’t healthy. Alexia is going to be more intense than María was, but she was always going to do everything she could to make you stop, to help you get better.” 

“She asked me if I was doing it for attention.” 

Ingrid sighed. Sometimes, she wished her normally level-headed captain was more level-headed when it came to the people she loved. That intensity was what made Alexia, Alexia. A fierce love that knew no bounds, though it had its drawbacks. 

“You’re not.” Ingrid dismissed. “Even if you were, elskling, that doesn’t make you a bad person. You need help. If you were trying to tell your sister that in this way, it just means you need help. You’re sick, honey. You need help, you deserve help, and if I know you’re sister at all, she’s going to get you help if it’s the last thing she does.” 

That, at least, you agreed with. 

-----

When Mapi was finished giving Alexia a long lecture, a role reversal if either of them had ever experienced one, she walked to the door, knocking softly. Ingrid led you back inside, taking in the very grim expressions on everyone’s faces. Alexia looked destroyed, honestly, and Ingrid knew it was a combination of factors; guilt that she had missed this, and guilt that she’d been so harsh earlier. 

Your sister didn’t move when you walked in, but Olga did, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before pulling you in close. You clung to her, and your sister watched out of the corner of her eye, the way you collapsed into her girlfriend without a second thought. She’d never felt worse in her life, never felt like she’d failed so greatly. The feeling only grew when Olga released you, and you finally looked at your sister with so much apprehension that Alexia wanted to cry. 

You didn’t move any closer to your sister, and you didn’t look at her again, instead focusing your attention on Mapi. 

“Nena, do you want to stay here tonight? You can go home and talk to Ale tomorrow.” Mapi offered. 

Your eyes flickered to your sister, shocked when she didn’t object. Instead, she nodded stiffly, speaking more to the ground than to you. “If you want to stay, you can. I’d rather you come home, but if you would feel better here, then I want you to stay.” Alexia paused, looking hesitantly between Olga and you. “We don’t need to talk tonight, I won’t call Mom, I won’t tell anyone. I… we will do what makes you comfortable.” 

You looked between the older girls, finding everyone’s attention fixed on you. They were giving you control, it seemed, truly allowing you to decide what you wanted to do. It calmed you, no longer feeling completely powerless. And even though you were hurt, and angry with Alexia, even though you kind of wanted to shove her again, you could tell she was trying. Trying to make up for what she’d done and how she’d acted. You knew Alexia, and you knew she was probably terrified right now, and having you stay here would probably keep her up all night. You loved her too much to stress her out like that. And if Alexia stayed as calm as she was now, you’d feel much better at home. 

-----

Alexia had promised you, and Olga, and Mapi, that she wouldn’t make you talk tonight. It was proving difficult, however, more difficult than she anticipated, as the three of you sat in the living room, none of you paying attention to the football match playing on the TV. You’d wanted to go to your room, but the look of pure panic on your sister’s face when you headed for the stairs was enough to have you turning around, albeit grumpily, to join the two older girls in the living room. 

You didn’t particularly feel like talking. Your frustration with your sister was fading rapidly though. Her eyes flicked over to you every minute, it seemed, and she’d attached herself to Olga the minute the brunette had joined her on the couch. Alexia wasn’t one for PDA, not in front of family or anyone. What she was doing couldn’t even really be considered PDA, but it was more than Alexia usually allowed. She’d captured Olga in a half hug, wrapping her arm tight around her and pulling the brunette into her chest. Olga had allowed it willingly, tangling her hand with Alexia’s, knowing she needed the comfort right now. If she was seeking it out so openly, neither you nor Olga could really even guess what was going on inside her head. 

As time passed, Alexia remained firmly wrapped around her girlfriend, looking over at you every few seconds, as if to assure herself that you were still there, still safely next to her. You felt more and more that you had to say something. Anything, to assure Alexia that you were alright, at least for now. You weren’t going anywhere. She didn’t need to worry so much. Of course, that was something she’d been hearing her whole life, and it wasn’t something you’re sure she’d ever listened to. 

The problem was that you weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but you couldn’t stand the anxiety radiating off your sister any longer, so you reached out your hand, laying it on the couch by her. Alexia grabbed it instantly, squeezing tight, and you heard her let out a relieved sigh. At least now, she wasn’t staring at you anymore. 

It was another 20 minutes before you spoke up. “Ale, I’m really sorry.” For 20 minutes of thinking, it was admittedly rather pathetic, but it was something. 

Your sister and Olga looked at you instantly, Olga immediately shaking her head at you, nudging Ale when she didn’t respond right away. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel like that before. I didn’t understand, I don’t really understand, but I will do whatever you need from me. Just talk to me, please, that’s all I need from you.” 

There was a choice in front of you, one you were conflicted about. You wanted to talk, but you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to stop, but you didn’t know how. You wanted to feel better, but you weren’t sure that was possible. You could keep doing what you’d been doing. You were still alive, that proved that it worked, at least a bit. Or you could put your faith in your sister, who was absolutely desperate to help you. Alexia was good at fixing things. You hoped that applied to people too.

-----

Alexia thought about that day a lot, and the days that followed. It always struck her that even in some of your toughest moments, you worried about her too. That’s what came with being sisters, she supposed. She wasn’t your parent, and she knew that. Most of the time. You worried about her just as much as she worried about you, though. Even when you were angry, when you had every right to be angry, you still reached out to hold your sister’s hand, to make sure that she wasn’t too stressed. 

As she stood, with you still wrapped up tightly in her embrace, Alexia remembered how hard it had been for you last time. How hard it had been for all of you. It would be hard, again. Your sister knew you wouldn’t think you could do it again. She knew that you could. 

Alexia had always believed in you, almost to a fault. She’d gotten you through this before, and she’d do it again. No matter what it took. 

-----

not promising a part 3, but IF there was going to be one, let me know what you'd like to see.

[hazbinwhoree]

Pls could i request a fix it of Adams death where reader saves him (somehow, i dont know *magic* 😭) and its hurt/comfort but ends up happy 🥺 because my soul hurts and needs comfort 🫠 pretty please and thank you for writing him so on point 😍

Not Today

A/N: Reader is a demon overlord with magic abilities.

(Name) had told Adam that attacking the hotel was a dumb and dangerous idea. So she watched the attack from afar in case something went wrong. And something went wrong. She could feel it. She rushed to the scene of the battle’s aftermath.

She wasn’t seeing Adam anywhere, until she saw him lying on the ground in a pool of his own golden blood.

“NO!” she screamed, sprinting over to him. She dropped to her knees and rolled him onto his back, panicking. “ADAM!” Adam’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled when he saw (Name). “Fuck, what did I tell you, what did I tell you?” Adam opened his mouth and blood trickled out. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

His eyes closed. “No no no, Adam, ADAM!” (Name) shook him before placing her ear on Adam’s chest. His heart was slowing.

(Name) sat back on her knees, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes and placed one hand over his stab wound and one hand on his heart. Her hair began to float around her head, and her entire body glew green. Adam’s wounds stitched themselves back together and his heart restarted.

Adam suddenly shot up into a sitting position, gasping. He hands ran over where his injuries had previously been, finding no stab wounds. “Hah!” he exclaimed, slightly shocked but mostly excited.

(Name) collapsed.

“I’m alive! I’m alive, you fucking did it– (Name)?” Adam turned to find (Name) unconscious on the ground.

“No, what the fuck, no!” He pulled (Name) into his arms and shook her. (Name)’s eyelids fluttered open, eyes half-lidded as she stared up at him, a grin stretching across her face. “Adam,” she whispered.

Adam let out a massive sigh of relief. “Jesus, don’t fucking do that shit, bitch. Scared the fuck out of me. What happened?”

(Name) tried to sit up but found herself too weak. “It’s just exhaustion. I’ve never used magic that strong before.” They were both brimming with relief. (Name) reached up to cup his bare face in her hand. Adam leaned into the touch.

“You’re alive,” (Name) said in awe. “Thanks to you, babe,” Adam grinned. He created a portal and stood, picking (Name) up. “You were just stabbed, I can walk,” (Name) insisted. Adam shook his head. “Shut up.” He carried her through the portal.

Back in Heaven, (Name) finally managed to convince Adam to put her down. Her legs were only a little shaky, but Adam held onto her until she kissed his hand and steadied herself.

(Name) received stares from every angel around as she was very clearly a demon. Adam held her against him and took flight to get to his home faster. He landed on his balcony and ushered (Name) inside.

Once they were inside, (Name) threw herself at Adam, hugging him as tightly as she could. Adam chuckled, hugging her back and wrapping his wings around her. “I thought I was going to lose you,” (Name) mumbled. “Never be that stupid again.”

Adam smiled softly. “I won’t, I promise.”

Their moment was interrupted by a pounding at the door. Word of seeing Adam had spread to Lute, who came to see if her beloved commander really was alive. Adam let her in and she simply stood and stared with her mouth slightly agape.

“You– how?”

Adam stepped aside and gestured towards (Name). Lute stared at (Name). After a long moment, she suddenly rushed forward, hugging (Name) with her one arm. (Name) was surprised, realizing Lute was hugging her and not attacking her.

She awkwardly hugged the angel back. “Thank you,” Lute muttered. “Thank you so much.”

Lute pulled back and turned to Adam, teary eyed. “Don’t be a pussy, Lute, I’m fine,” Adam teased. Lute sniffed and wiped away her tears. “It’s good to see you, sir.” She left without questioning why (Name), a demon, was in Heaven, grateful enough to turn a blind eye.

As soon as she was gone, (Name) and Adam embraced again.

“You’re never allowed to leave me,” (Name) said, slightly muffled by her face being buried in Adam’s chest. “Don’t tell me what to do, bitch,” Adam joked. (Name) was so happy she didn’t even have a retort.

“I love you,” Adam admitted after a moment.

“I love you too.”

[biribaa]

For the last tadc post were the reader who's abstracting in front of them can you do that with Jax, gangle, zobble, and Pomni please

Zooble, Pomni, Gangle and Jax x a reader who's abstracting in front of them

Technically a part two of these hcs.

TW/CW: spoiler and angst and blahbalhba

Zooble

Aw #$@!...

It's been months since Zooble has felt any serious feeling in this circus other than disinterest, boredom and stress, they can't even really describe any feeling that aren't one of these I just listed. Mainly now, at this very moment. Zooble stares at the mess that once was you, they didn't even notice their body froze.

And accepting that you suddenly just... gave up, is difficult. And, still, things are still the same, the same unnecessary adventures and stupid people that they have to deal with.

Don't get they wrong, they misses you. But they blindly can't get over you.

The day could be the same old thing, a silly adventure and Jax being an idiot, that suddenly Zooble will feel like something is clearly wrong(not that things already are), something is missing, they are missing something, did they forgot their foot? Maybe someone?

And when the reality hits they like a hard, cold, big rock, everything gets a thousand times worse. Zooble remembers the things you did for them, they for you. They never thought they would get into a cute romance, honestly...And here they are.

Certain thoughts itch in their head that maybe, just maybe, they were a bad partner. They know you're not stupid enough to be with someone you clearly don't like, but yet, Zooble can't help it.

Zobble never thought that they would want things to be only boring and annoying than this current situation.

Pomni

PAIN PAIN PAIN

Hell, reader, she is the newest character in the circus, she doesn't have an ounce of sanity to deal with something like this.

Everything inside Pomni seems to scream at her to do something but all she feels are her hands shaking like it's the European winter, her brain itching and the butterflies that were once in Pomni's stomach vomit and die.

She get's out all glitched out(and traumatized), but nothing will describe the agonizing silence after panicked screams and tears shed from the unsuccessful help.

For Pomni, Even though things are the same, everything sounds like the first time she came here again. Everything sounded like a headache, even though she can't get that stuff in the digital world.

Pomni didn't put you on a pedestal, she still has Ragatha as a friend. But, god, you were such a angel for her, someone she genuinely admired. And then, you simply disappeared like a dry leaf in the wind.

Of course Pomni blames herself for this, if only she could have been there for you before, helped you more, calmed you down more. Pomni's confidence only dropped after these events.

Ragatha is one of the only ones who really has open arms for Pomni to vent and have a shoulder to cry on. She's the second one she trusts most besides you. Oh, what am I talking about, she's now the only one Pomni really trusts now.

Gangle

Dont do this to my Gangle, reader... :(

Gangle can't use another comedy mask after what just happened to them and to you. Gangle can't just act like nothing happened to their lover. It was supposed to be you and them, forever, even in the worst places, why did this had to happen to you?!

This big episode- no, three seasons of depression didn't seriously bother the others, Jax was mildly irritated and Ragatha was worried, but it didn't hurt anyone other than Gangle themselves.

Rmember how sad Gangle is all the time? They are still sad but now multiplied by a hundred. Suddenly, everything, everyone, even themselves just felt useless, they can't even bring themselves to get up from the floor, It was as if the accumulation of sadness took physical form, and it was a giant gym weight of one hundred kilos.

Caine lied to Gangle once, saying that if If they participates in this adventure he could bring you back. The host's plan was to get Gangle back in the high spirits, but this only resulted in they becoming brutally competitive.

Everyone just sounds hard and boring, talk to others is hard, and get out of their bedroom sounds boring. Why leave?! They didn't woke up in your warm arms.

I wouldn't be impressed if Gangle suddenly had a tantrum, seeing the extent of their misery. Blaming everything and everyone for your disappearance, being the reason stupid or not.

They just miss you so much :(

Jax

Jax would never admit to being desperate, or even scared, when he saw you in that shape. Your mind shifts, and in a matter of seconds, you turn into a giant monstrosity he never thought you would become.

Process that you just... Poof, gone, was slow and silent for Jax. His pride couldn't process something that would leave him shaken.

The first few weeks Jax was just angry, angry and angry. He yells at Caine, Ragatha, Gangle, anyone who even slightly irritates Jax will end up getting into an argument with him. Just like I mentioned in the Zooble scenario, blindly, this just shows that Jax can't get over his loss.

The rabbit's frequent comedic sarcasm has now just turned into a sarcasm that he uses to aggressively retort against others. And the comments are few now.

Everything sounds so painfully boring without your stupid face and your dork personality, it itches his heart and stomach in ways it never did. He's just...stressed.

I believe that Jax is the character who heals the fastest from his loss among all other ones, at least a month and at most three or five. He just needs some consolations to get his ego back to its original size. Don't get him wrong, obviously he misses you.

[anonymouscheeses]

Hazbin hotel theory (not circus related 🙄)

So we all know Charlie and Vaggie resemble alot of Lucifer and Lillith right?

Lucifer is a fallen angel and Vaggie is a fallen angel. Both sacrificing so much for their lovers. Both having different ideals and beliefs aside from the majority of heaven, because of that they both end up in hell. Also literal head over heels for their wives. Lucifer still wears his ring and Vaggie has very few scenes outside of Charlie.

Charlie and Lillith are both demons, although I guess Lillith is more human I think. But, they both fit in the other category. They both have fallen angel lovers. It's said in the opening cutscene that Lillith was an activist who sang as a way to influence. Charlie is an activist who sings in "ready for this" to persuade the cannibals to join her fight against heaven.

Personality and design wise though, Charlie and Lucifer are the most similar. Lillith and Vaggie? From what we've seen Lillith seemed loving in her pictures but calm and serious at the majority, if that doesn't describe Vaggie I don't know what does. Also Lillith wears purple and Vaggie is at this point purple coded 💀

It's implied that Lucifer had romantic or at the least smeggsual 🤭 relations to Eve. Sure it could have been a joke/lie, but clearly Adam gets pissed and doesn't say that he's wrong. I'd like to think Lillith and Eve also had romantic ties but there's not enough shown of them to make even an evidential guess. It's obvious tho that Lucifer at least was with the both of them at some point. (Maybe even Eve gave birth to Charlie since Lillith was cursed with miscarriages. At least if Viv still wants to keep that. No. No... Lucifer did NOT give birth to Charlie... youre jst weird... /j)

So... if Lucifer, Lillith, and Eve were once all in a polycule or at least a vee(two date one)....

who would be the one that stands in as Eve since Charlie and Vaggie are Lillith and Lucifer?

Plot twist. I'm a two and half halo shipper. It's Emily yall... 😨

HEAR MEE OUTTT!!!

In this image below, Vaggie is jealous that Charlie is holding Emily's hands(YES. CHARLIE IS HOLDING HER HANDS, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Charlie is very touchy sshh) which is kind of weird they would include that tiny scene. Sure, it could just be comedic but what's comedy except a person who looks too much into a small 1 millisecond scene. It still puts in a dynamic that at first isn't implied to be romantic but! But, having this one scene still creates a slightly romantic undertone dynamic. Even if it's not heavily implied, Vaggie sees Emily as someone who's taking moves on her girlfriend. (Which could also imply Lillith and Eve's first impression before they got in a polycule.)

What I'm about to say is pure speculation, there still isn't much to go off of in the show at the moment with these six. But I think I have some points that maayyy just be smart for an idiot like me :3. Emily is an angel yes, but we aren't sure what Eve's fate was, where she went or what happened to her after. Maybe she stayed with Adam(after the creation of sin), and if Adam could go to heaven, a man who also ate the apple, then I believe Eve could too, it doesn't matter who started(assuming Adam did eat the apple in the show. Most likely.) What I like to speculate is that Eve went to heaven with Adam, although she didn't feel happy in their marriage and decided to make herself a fallen angel to be with Lucifer and Lillith, her true lovers.

Now the similarities with Eve and Emily? They both are against the ideas of those higher than them in heaven. Emily is against the idea of extermination in hell because she feels its unnecessary genocide. Eve went against heavens orders and ate the apple from Lucifer for knowledge. Oh also look haha their hair is kinda similar in the images below(not actual evidence but still its kinda cool) That's where the current canon similarities end. But ofc the big well known theory is that Emily will become a fallen angel because she goes against Sera's wishes. I HOPE she doesn't but in this show? Yeah, most likely. Currently Emily hasn't taken action, but maybe one day she will, which is the most likely situation. And if I'm right that Eve was a fallen angel then that would also be ANOTHER similarity. (Also. Ya'll.... the woman who picked up baby Charlie in "more than anything" was NOT Lillith. Like okay, maybe she is, but that didn't look like her AT ALL. She didn't have the same slick back mullet. But, in the image below, Eve and the woman who picked up baby Charlie have the exact same hair. Jst another thing I wanted to throw in to further evident that Lucifer Lillith and Eve were in a polycule/vee)

I LOVE TWO AND A HALF HALOS SO MUCH GUYSS. PLEASE FEED INTO MY NAIVETY. LUCIFER'S STOLEN WIVES AND CHARLIE'S ANGELS ARE LITERALLY CANON AND NO ONE CAN SAY OTHERWISE TO ME 😭😭

BONUS!! Adam is Lillith's ex rightt??? Well Lute is basically Vaggie's ex. Sure, you could argue that- no. No girl, they was exes, I know, Viv told me herself smhhh..... not only are both Lucifer and Vaggie fallen angels because they had different ideals from heaven, Lillith and Charlie are both activists who use their voice as powers, Eve and Emily go against heaven, BUT LILLITH AND VAGGIE BOTH HAVE EXES??

Bro, Adam and Lute are also besties like? The polycules kicked them out and then they were like, "nuh uh, now we're gonna date eachother since yall don't want us" 😭

Basically what I'm saying is that Lucifer's stolen wives and Charlie's angels are Canon and no one can say otherwise because I'm so smart. If anyone says they aren't just link them to here and BOOM we got another one added to the small ship. Also. This is so underrated. Ya'll.. the potential is so crazy. And since Charlie and Vaggie are already established it would be so intense and adorable to watch Emily try to impress and date them both. Uggghh so.... hyperfixated..... I hope this isn't my special interest now 😭

[arjwrites]

— Guess who's back with another request.....‼️‼️‼️

A fluff Castiel x Winchester!Reader where she helps Cas with his wings after a hunt please 😘😻 (I imagine them being dark, HUGE and MEGA soft and she goes like "Woah" (completely distracted for a moment))

Saving Grace- Castiel x GN!Reader

Summary: Cas is hurt after a hunt, and when he's hurting, you're hurting. Sometimes even an angel needs a helping hand. PART TWO HERE! Warnings: None! A/N: WELCOME BACK ANON! Sorry this took me a couple of days- for some reason I was really struggling to get Cas's character right here. I really wanted to do him justice for my loyal requester!!! A bit of context for this one- Cas is able to reveal a physical form of his wings if he chooses. All of the logistics of angel wings are pretty much made up. Good thing I view canon as more of a… rough suggestion! It’s right there in my bio, people. Have a little bit of suspension of belief for a few of the details!!!! Also- this doesn't quite make it to outright romantic territory- it felt to me like a buildup to something bigger in the future! Maybe I'll write a part 2 at some point, who knows... It had been a few hours since you had finished up the day’s hunt. Upon your return to the motel, Sam had instantly run out the door to the local library in search of a better wifi connection to research for the next case, while Dean had followed him into town to grab some supplies. This left you and Castiel, perched in your usual positions on opposite sides of the bed in your separate room. It was common for you and the angel to spend some quiet time together after a hunt- you both often found an unspoken comfort in each other’s simple presence. While you were leaned back, propped up with pillows and dialed into whatever was on TV, Cas held his usual stiff posture, but something seemed off about him. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, and every so often, he would shift in his seat and his whole body would tighten and cringe. You knew he had taken a few pretty serious blows during this hunt, but the fact that he let himself continue to hurt, rather than quickly healing himself, was concerning to you. Usually, this time spent together was silent, enjoying a moment of peace while you each lost yourself in your own thoughts. But after a few episodes and many stolen, worried glances, you felt you had to speak up.

“Cas, what’s wrong? It’s obvious you’re still hurting. Why haven’t you healed yourself?” 

“I’m fine. I just need to figure a few things out.” He continued to avoid your gaze, rising from the bed and pacing across the room to distance himself from you. 

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.” Your level of concern forced you to cut right to the chase. 

Cas pondered this for a second. Could you really help him? Was it even okay for him to ask? Humans certainly hadn’t taken very well to an angel’s true form in the past… But that was a couple thousand years ago, and those humans hadn’t known what you know. If anyone could handle this, it was you. If he could trust anyone, it was you. And it was only his wings- just a sliver of his full form. But still, Cas was hesitant. This was unfamiliar territory for him. 

You watched from across the room as the wheels turned in his mind. His expression was pained, and it seemed like he was wrestling with a hard decision. As much as you wanted to close the gap between you, to comfort him, you knew the best thing to do was to give him his space. You were glad you did, because after a moment, his gaze rose from the floor, settled on you, and he opened his mouth to speak. 

“There’s something wrong with my wings. It’s blocking my grace and I can’t heal myself.” His expression was solemn and his tone direct. Clearly, he wasn’t happy to have to bring this up with you.  

“Your wings?” The mention of the most angelic part of your dear angel sent your heart aflutter (no pun intended). For the most part, Cas’s wings were out of sight, out of mind. Usually he was just the dorky man in a trench coat who just so happened to have some pretty crazy powers. But when you thought about his wings, the parts of him that were so divine and otherworldly, your cheeks burned scarlet. It was a reminder of just how different Cas was from you. 

“Yes. I might need you to… Inspect them. Figure out what is wrong and remove whatever is blocking my grace. I can’t heal myself, Sam, Dean, or you until it’s gone.”

You sucked in a sharp, full breath, your lungs holding tightly to the air for just a moment before slowly pushing it back out of you. 

“Okay. I can do that.” Why were you nervous? It was just Cas. You were just helping out a… friend. 

“It’s very… personal. This vessel you see isn’t really me, but my wings? That is as close as you can get to seeing my true form. I’m… not sure how you would react. It’s not something meant for human eyes. Not here on Earth, anyways. It might upset you or-” 

“If it means helping you, I’m sure I can handle it.” 

“Are you sure-” 

“Cas. Are you in pain?” 

He hesitated for a moment before conceding the truth. “Yes.” 

“Then let me help.”

Castiel sighed, his body tightening in a way that seemed like he was bracing himself. A terse “Alright” escaped his lips, and then the whole room shifted. 

There was no earthly way to describe the sight that unfurled before you. Castiel’s wings were dark, so dark they held no color or shine or reflection- just a void, deep, black nothingness. And yet, they almost glowed. There was some sort of aura that radiated off of them, just as dark as the wings themselves yet tinged ever so slightly blue. It must have been his grace. The aura wrapped around the perimeter of each wing and hugged each individual feather, defining them just enough so you could barely distinguish one from another. Somehow, his wings were dark and light and everything in between- you had never seen anything like it. Cas was right- it was hard to wrap your head around it. You reached down to grasp the surface you were sitting on, half to ground yourself in the moment to believe what you were seeing, and half to make sure you didn’t jump right up to inspect his wings closer. You knew this was hard for poor Castiel- your greatest fear was making him uncomfortable.

“Wow, Cas,” was all you could say. You were completely entranced, absolutely at a loss. It took everything in you not to burst into tears- he was definitely right. This was not a sight for just any human to see. He started to shift underneath your gaze, each movement triggering his wings to follow in a parallel movement. He looked uncomfortable. Gathering your composure, you rose to your feet. It was just Cas, the same Cas you’ve known all along. As nervous as his wings made you feel, you knew he was just as nervous, so you pushed yourself to help him feel at ease. 

“Okay. How do you want me to do this?”

“You can touch them. See if you notice anything that doesn’t look like it should be there.” 

Touch them. Just the thought sent another jolt of electricity through your body. Touching Cas’s wings? He was asking you to touch his wings. There was no stopping the thoughts racing into your mind- How would they feel? How would it make Cas feel? How would it make you feel?

Pushing the worries aside, you crossed over to Cas. Mid-step, your gaze grabbed on to the angel’s and wouldn’t let go. As you inched closer, you were less and less inclined to look away. Because once you did, you knew you would be face to face in the task at hand.

It’s not that you didn’t want to look at Cas’s wings. They were the most beautiful, ethereal things you had ever seen. They just made you so nervous. For the first time since knowing Cas, it truly registered to you- he was an angel, a heavenly creature, so powerful and beautiful that even this small glimpse of his true form had you weak in the knees. But beyond being just an angel, he was a teammate, a friend, and to you, something far more. All you wanted to do was take his pain away.

Finally, your eyes were forced to stray from the angel’s as your feet led you behind him, ducking under his left wing and settling yourself square between them. There was a physical sensation radiating off of them- a warm, low buzz that made your whole body tingle. 

“One more thing.” Cas’s voice stepped in to break what felt like an age-long silence. 

“Yes?” You whispered.

“It will be a bit… sensitive. Please be gentle.” 

“Of course, Cas.” 

And so you were. With the softest touch you could muster up, you reached out and made contact with his right wing, settling your fingers amongst the feathers. You felt Cas’s body shudder underneath your touch, but his low voice mumbled that all was well, to carry on. So you did.

For nearly thirty minutes, your fingers worked through the wings. Touching them was like weaving your hands through silk, sifting through layer upon layer. The feathers were so light and delicate that they almost felt like nothing at all, and the way they kissed your skin was without a doubt the most beautiful sensation you had ever experienced.

Your hands zoned into their task, sifting through the wings to remove all of the debris leftover from the day’s hunt. Cas spoke to you as you worked, teaching you about their anatomy, their capabilities, and everything else. You listened intently, fascinated by this intimate insight, but you weren’t sure if he was speaking with the pure intention of teaching you or simply to distract himself from the feeling of what was going on behind him. Every so often, his voice wavered or his back pulled away, and in response, you would stall your hands, giving him a moment to adjust. 

The process was long and tedious, but you took the liberty of enjoying every second of it. Watching the ripple of the feathers beneath your fingers, the way your hands seemed to disappear as they bobbed in and out, eventually you dropped the last piece of shrapnel into the empty box you had been using to collect it all. 

“There. All done. Is that… any better?” 

Cas didn’t vocalize a response, but your question was answered when his entire form shone with the familiar blue glow of his grace. And when the glow subsided, his wings were tucked away yet again, leaving behind his unadorned trenchcoated vessel. He turned to you with a face of gentle features. 

“Thank you,” was all he could express in his low timbre. It seemed as though every trace of worry had melted away, and everything about Cas’s presence had softened. But if you hadn’t been completely sure of his newfound comfort and ease, the angel confirmed it when he took a long stride closer, halving the distance that had served as the buffer between you.

“Thank you for trusting me to do that,” you breathed through a slight daze, both lingering from the experience and sparked anew from his rapidly increasing proximity. 

“There is no one else I trust as much as you.” Now he was merely inches away, hovering closer to you than he ever had been before. Here you froze, both sinking into the feeling, until the magnetism that emanated off of him grew to be too much. Just as you took the leap of faith to close the gap, you were interrupted by the crash of the front door flying open. You jerked backwards on instinct, reinstating the safe buffer space. 

In strode Sam and Dean, oblivious as ever. Stopped just inside the doorframe, and in complete unison, the brothers tilted their heads in confusion.

Gesturing between the two of you, Dean spoke. “Hey. We interrupting something?”

[missviviii]

Could you please write a fanfic of mizu x reader when taigen flirts with reader and makes mizu get really jealous?

a/n: omg yes!! 🫶 i love this idea and i find it so cute! first time writing here!!

.

“Jealousy”

mizu x reader

summary: mizu doesn’t like it when taigen gets too close to you. perhaps it’s time to take things into her own hands.

warning(s): swearing

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You kind of just hopped along with Mizu after her fun little fight at the Shindo Dojo. Just a swordmaster like her, but much more open and friendly. Mizu really doesn’t get it. Why’d an angel and talented person like you hang with her? But nevertheless, your company was appreciated and at least it didn’t annoy her.

That was all until Taigen joined along. You two had known each other since you were young and through most of your time at the Shindo Dojo. Yes he was a dumbass and an utter failure, but at least he was funny and you had fun with him.

Much to Mizu’s annoyance, Taigen was awfully annoying and did not shut up whatsoever. Not to mention, he could not shut his damn mouth whenever you were around. Taigen flirted with you, made jokes that made you laugh, even wrapped his arm around your shoulder so casually when you were walking beside him. It made her feel this weird burning, hating feeling grow within her, and she always hated the smile on your face when you were with him, not her.

“What’s with the lipstick, princess?” Taigen commented as he looked at your reflection in the little mirror you brought along. You rolled your eyes, sticking out your tongue at him momentarily before you continued to apply lipstick on your lips. You let out a small giggle while Taigen continued to flirt with you. Mizu entered just then, only to see Taigen all close to you and flirting. “I might just have to steal kiss if you wear that lipstick—“

Boink! Mizu hits his head with the end of her blade, an unamused expression on her face as she pushed his face away from yours. “Move, idiot. Ever heard of personal space?” She says in an annoyed voice, forcing him to scoot his ass over so she can sit beside you. Taigen grunts, rubbing the sore spot that Mizu had hit him with her sword.

“What the fuck?! Can’t a guy just be funny?!” He grumbled, glaring at Mizu while you simply just giggled. Mizu rolled her eyes, scooting closer to you until your shoulders were touching. “Besides, im not wrong. Who wouldn’t want a kiss from the angel—“

“Alright that’s enough, Taigen. Say that again and i slice all your fingers off,” Mizu sharply said as she waved Taigen off. You cocked your head to the side, particularly amused at how protective she was being today. Taigen cursed under his breath before he very much reluctantly gave in and left.

Mizu turned to look at you, only to be met with an amused expression and a small smirk. “What’s with the look?”

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” You hummed as you finished applying your lipstick. Mizu grumbled, trying to deny it and say it was ‘only to save your mentality from his idiotic behavior’, but you knew better.

Could you blame her? How is Mizu supposed to not be jealous when Taigen of all people gets to make you laugh and flirt with you. Or even have the slightest chance on getting a kiss from you? “I fucking hate how touchy that bastard is,” Mizu grumbled as you cupped her face into your hands. She almost melts right then and there.

Then you plant a kiss right on her lips, catching her off guard for the slightest moment. Even leaving your lipstick on her lips. Red and clearly showing that you left your mark on her. “Oh you little tease—“

Mizu regained her focus and immediately pulled you onto her lap. You straddled her, thighs on both side of her legs while your hands were wrapped around her neck while she made out with you. Her rough hands dug into your thighs while you pushed her back onto the ground.

Well, what happens next is quite obvious, isn’t it?

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[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Fight Club

Team Free Will & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you start a fight club at school, and your protective big brothers and guardian angel find out about it.

“Is that a bruise?”

You tensed at Sam’s question as he grabbed your arm.

“Oh, I guess.”

“What’s it from?”

You shrugged, “Don’t remember.”

“That’s not a ‘don’t remember’ bruise,” Dean cut in. “I’ve got plenty of those. That’s a bad one. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly. “I mean, you should see the other guy.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. The boys were on their feet in a second, immediately alert.

“Other guy? You were in a fight?” Dean demanded.

“Who was it? Did he hurt you?” Sam asked.

“Does it have anything to do with this?” The three of you turned at Castiel’s question. He was holding up your backpack, which you’d left open, and clearly visible inside were a few stacks of bills; fives, tens, even twenties.

“What…where…did you steal that?” Dean demanded.

“No!” You insisted. “I earned it.” A small smile crept over your face. “You could say I fought for it.”

Sam groaned, but Dean and Cas still seemed confused.

“You what?”

“She started a fight club, Dean,” Sam sighed. “Which was very, very stupid.”

“Stupid?” You scoffed. “It was awesome! I always win, so—“

“So, one day’s gonna come when you don’t,” Sam interrupted. “Your fight skills are not for recreation, Y/N. They’re for self defense.”

“He’s right,” Dean said reluctantly. “Look, this is cool and all, and it looks like something I would’ve done at your age—“ Dean ignored Sam’s glare—“but Sammy’s right. You shouldn’t be using your skills to beat up kids for money, that’s not ok.”

“Says you,” you replied, grabbing your bag and heading for your room.

“Hey.” Sam grabbed your arm. “Kid, c’mon. Promise me no more fight club, ok? I know you think we’re lame for that, and that’s fine. Just promise me.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “I promise.”