Dialogue Punctuation Cheat Sheet

Spare a place on the tag list, my lord 🤲

yes, for sure!! i’m sorry it’s taking me so long to update, i’ll post soon i promised <3

Hi hi! I absolutely adore your astarion smut and I saw you were looking for ideas sooooo, how about reader being distracted watching him work with his hands?? Like he could be sat fixing his shirt with a sewing needle, flicking book pages or lockpicking- whatever- but it has an effect, his nimble, veiny hands being just soo good at things that he can’t help but notice just how zoned out and squirmy they get.. some teasing and loving jokes about it ensue until maybe one thing leads to another and he’s sat behind his pretty tav fingering them, bringing them to the edge over and over, whispering and nipping, carefully mocking them about somthing as simple as his hands getting them going.. just making them melt.. idkkkk man it gets me just thinking about it pahahah

Hi, anon! This was a WONDERFUL prompt to get me out of my smut rut. Hope you enjoy! xoxoxo

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A Lesson in Lockpicking

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings/Tags: Hand kink, praise kink, semi-public sex, mild exhibitionism, teasing, vaginal fingering, smut with a little plot

Summary: Astarion notices you watching him pick some locks. He offers to give you a lesson you won't soon forget.

*****

It was unfair, really. No one should have hands as lovely and dexterous as he did. 

You were practically salivating, watching Astarion’s nimble fingers pick lock after lock in the underground bank vault that you and the party had happened to stumble upon. While the others were far too distracted by crates of silks and gold troves, you had eyes only for Astarion. Or, more specifically, Astarion’s hands. 

The others were slowly pilfering their way around the cavernous room, pocketing what they could without encumbering themselves. But not you. 

No, you were too entranced by the movements of the rogue before you, as he worked to release the heavily rusted lock on one of the many jewel-encrusted chests scattered about the vault. You bit your lip, studying the way the tendons in his hands flexed and relaxed with every twist and fidget of the wrench and pick he held. His long, slender fingers balanced the tools with a graceful sort of ease that you knew could only come from years of practice. And the way he curled his wrist while manipulating those tools, it was almost too much to bear. 

You blushed as you realized you had subconsciously clamped your thighs together, your body desperate to relieve some of the growing tension within you. 

Gods above, you hoped that if anyone – especially Astarion – noticed your intense gaze, it could be chalked up to your excitement over another chest opened. Surely that made sense given the circumstances. Right? It was embarrassing enough to catch yourself squirming over just his hands doing some mundane task, let alone having someone else realize it. 

Within seconds, Astarion had the lock released. Tossing it carelessly to the side, he heaved open the lid of the old chest to reveal the contents within. Another heaping mound of gold and jewels, same as the rest. Clearly unimpressed, he rose from his crouch and slunk over to the next locked chest, beginning the process again.

Gods, you needed some air. Needed to be anywhere else but watching him pick another lock open. With a tight cough and shake of the head, you mumbled a “nice job” as you skirted by him, desperate to put some distance between yourself and those mesmerizing hands of his. 

*****

He had known why you were watching him so intently earlier in the day. Of course he had known. Even without his heightened sense of smell alerting him to your arousal (thank you elven heritage and vampiric consolation prizes), your expression in his peripheral vision told him everything he needed to know. 

You were coveting. But not for the gold in the old chest he had popped open in record time. 

No, your eyes had been focused singularly on him. On his hands. And sure, knowing this, perhaps he had embellished his movements a bit more than necessary. Perhaps he’d slid his fingers across his tools with a more lascivious flourish than lockpicking ever required. And perhaps he’d curled his wrist suggestively as he released the tension from those over-wound lock pins. But, oh, the way you had squirmed and clenched your thighs together as he did so was worth every second of that exaggerated performance. 

So enamored with his hands, you’d neglected to see the smirk ripple across his features as the lock opened with a muted snick. 

All the better for him, though. 

Your starving expression had produced so many entertaining ideas in his mind while he worked. 

And what made those ideas all the more enticing? You had no idea of the plans he had in store for tonight. 

*****

It was late. Everyone else had retired to their tents for the evening, but you had volunteered to take the first watch. Like most nights, it was fairly quiet, nothing but the sound of crickets chirping and owls hooting in the distance.

You were stoking the fire with fresh tinder as you caught sight of Astarion reentering the camp. He was whistling some bawdy tune you recalled from the pubs of Baldur’s Gate while he sauntered toward you, tossing and catching some metallic thing that flashed in the firelight. 

“What’s that you’ve got?” you whispered as he drew closer, mindful of your sleeping compatriots. 

“Practice lock,” Astarion replied, tossing you the object. You turned it over in your hands, noticing its striking resemblance to one of the locks he’d picked earlier in the day. 

“Why are you giving me this?” you questioned, eying him warily. 

“I caught you watching me today, darling. I assumed you were too shy to ask for… lessons,” he supplied. 

He had an innocent-enough tone, but still, it had you gulping audibly. Did he intend a double meaning to his words, or were you just desperately lusting after him? You couldn’t be sure. It certainly meant he had noticed your staring earlier, but far be it from you to correct the narrative he had formed in his mind. You would rather be buried alive than admit the truth to him right now. 

No Astarion, I couldn’t give a damn about lockpicking. I just can’t stop watching your hands and thinking about all the ways I’d wish you’d use them on me. Even the idea of that confession caused a blush to bloom across your neck and cheeks. 

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Right. You’re right. Thank you for offering.”

His smile widened. “Of course. I was thinking,” he began, as he circled around you, graceful as always. Like a feline cornering their dinner. 

“We could have our first lesson tonight. Right now,” he continued. 

You shivered, unable to see him any longer, but feeling him close behind you. 

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” you asked weakly. 

You both felt and heard his chuckle by your ear, his breath blowing tendrils of your loose hair into your periphery. He’d gotten so close without you even realizing. His preternatural stillness was always catching you off guard. 

“Oh no, darling. It’s the perfect time for it, I think,” Astarion murmured. You shivered again as his nose traced a path up the column of your neck. “Let me show you.”

“All right,” you whispered, desire choking your voice into some muted, demure thing. 

You clenched your jaw, commanding yourself to remain calm, as you felt him settle around you. Felt his body press snugly against you. You watched as his long legs stretched to bar you in while he circled his arms around you, resting his forearms on bended knees. His chest was flush against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. You knew if you turned your head, your lips would be close enough to touch. 

You were effectively caged within his embrace. Even fully clothed, it felt electric, everywhere his body touched yours. It took everything within you just to maintain your breathing. 

Your eyes tracked his every move, as one hand moved to pluck the lock still clutched in your fingers, while the other hand revealed a simple lockpick – a long metal stem with a tiny curved hook at the end. 

“It’s simple, really,” he murmured. “Do it once, and you’ll never forget.”

“Is that so?” you replied.

“Mm, quite so,” he crooned. You could hear the grin in his voice. 

“Watch me,” he continued, as he held the lock in one hand and inserted the pick with the other. 

You obeyed, taking in every minute movement of his fingers as he twisted the pick this way and that. This close, you could truly appreciate his beautiful porcelain skin. The way the blue-gray veins underneath snaked around each knuckle of his hand, a delicate webbing that came alive with each fidget of his fingers. The dance they performed against the tendons in his hand, as they rose and fell while he continued to work. 

A quiet snick, and the lock handle popped open in his palm. 

You blinked, impressed by how quickly he’d managed to free the pins within. 

“See? Simple. Now you try,” he whispered. 

You felt your stomach drop. 

Fuck. You were utterly, completely fucked.

You hadn’t been watching the actual pick at all. You hadn’t the slightest clue how he’d maneuvered the tool. Once again, you’d been far too distracted by his hands. 

You remained still, hesitating to accept the lock and pick he now offered.

“Is there a problem, darling?” he crooned after a moment’s pause. You could hear it again, that grin in his voice. 

You turned your head slightly to take in his expression. There was mischief in his eyes, that much was unmistakable. Whatever game he was playing with you, you could tell he was enjoying it immensely. 

“I, um… I think I may need to see you do it again. I’m not sure I’m ready,” you confessed in a hoarse voice. 

“Oh, but you were watching my hands so intently! I doubt you missed a thing,” he chuckled, his eyes alight with amusement. 

Gods damn it all, you thought to yourself, eyes roving across his face. Taking in the telltale signs in his expression.

He knew. He’s probably known this whole time. 

You sighed, surrendering to the heat of the blush that was now coloring your entire face and neck. 

“You know I haven’t been watching the pick, Astarion,” you murmured.

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” he gasped in mock surprise. “What could you have been watching then?”

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to face the campfire once more. “You know already, you ass,” you grumbled.

“Tsk, tsk. Evading my questions and now name calling? Honestly, darling, I thought we had something special,” he pouted. 

You groaned, smacking one hand against your forehead. His teasing would be the death of you. 

“I was watching your hands,” you groused. 

“My hands? Whatever for?”

“Gods damn you, Astarion. You’re really going to make me say it?” you snapped, whipping your head around again to glare at him. 

“Oh, I really am,” he chuckled. His shit-eating grin did little to lessen your embarrassment. 

“Fine. Fine!,” you spouted, exasperated. “I like watching you work with your hands. It… gets me… excited. And then, I start thinking about all of the other things I’d like you to do with your hands…” you paused.

“And?” he prompted. His teasing expression was gone, replaced with something more akin to what you had been feeling for him all day. 

“And… and I think about how I’d like you to use your hands on me,” you finished in a whisper, mouth watering at the look of anticipation on his face. 

“All you had to do was ask, darling,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you as his hands slipped down to the front of your breeches. With deft hands, he loosened the knot there and pulled the strings free from their bindings, jerking the leathers down past your hip bones.

You gasped and keened back against his chest as you felt his fingers slip beneath the fabric, skimming past the tuft of curls to brush against your swollen clit, slick with arousal. 

Astarion groaned. “Fuck, you’re absolutely drenched. Is this all for me?” he asked, as his fingers drew slow, languid circles against you. 

You mewled a pathetic “yes” as your hips subconsciously rutted up, pressing yourself harder against his fingers. 

“Just from watching my hands, darling? Just from watching me pick a rusted lock?” he teased. 

You huffed and nodded your assent. 

“Naughty thing, you,” Astarion chuckled, trailing the fingers of his other hand against your entrance, barely entering you with one finger before removing it entirely. 

You whined your disapproval, inching yourself forward in an effort to communicate how much you needed those fingers inside you. 

“Shh, shh,” he admonished, kissing your temple. “We don’t want to wake the others, now do we?”

“No,” you breathed, burrowing your face into his neck to muffle your noises. “I’ll be quiet.”

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed, slipping two fingers inside you. The sudden fullness caused you to groan desperately against his skin, becoming a long, drawn-out noise as he began pumping them with sure, deft strokes. 

“No, we can’t have them see you getting finger fucked by the rogue in the firelight,” he whispered, working you now with both hands. “Although, I think the wicked part of you likes the idea of getting caught like this, hmm? Part of you wants them to see how I’m taking you, so easily, right under their noses? In the middle of camp? You want them to see how well I fuck you into oblivion with only my hands. You want them to hear and see how I make you moan.”

With his fingers on your clit and three knuckles deep in your cunt, you were far too gone to form an articulate response. His voice, so alluring it was sinful, only stoked the growing inferno within your lower body. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried against the column of his neck, both an admission and a plea. “Yes, Astarion, yes.”

“I know, I know. You naughty, precious thing. My sweet girl. My wicked one,” he cooed, planting kisses along your cheek and temple. “You’re doing so well. Making this so easy for me, love.”

You whined at his words, relishing the sound of his voice as it uttered the sweetest and most deplorable things. You nearly saw stars as he slipped a third finger inside you, thrusting into you harder as his fingers drew tighter and tighter circles around your clit. 

“You can’t last much longer now, can you, darling?” he whispered. “Not when I’m fucking you like this, hmm? Tell me. Tell me how much you want to come.”

“Please, gods, please, Astarion. Let me come,” you pleaded, covering your mouth with your hands now to try to quiet your noises. It was becoming almost impossible to keep quiet. You could feel your release barreling through your body, desperate to spring free.

“I want you to. I want you to, my sweet one,” he responded between kisses. “I want to feel you clamp around me, knowing it was my hands that turned you into this pliant, mewling little thing.”

“Yes,” you moaned in agreement. “Yes, please.”

“Take your hands off your mouth, darling,” he whispered hoarsely against your jaw as his fingers ratcheted up their pace. “If you’re going to scream for me, I want everyone to hear it.”

It was the last push you needed before freefalling into ecstasy. Your climax rocketed through your body as his name burst from your lips, your hands freed from your mouth to clutch his thighs in a vice-like grip. 

You were so lost to the sensation, you couldn’t tell how loud you had cried Astarion’s name. You simply melted back into his embrace, absorbing the aftershocks of your release while he held you snugly against him. 

“Good girl. So good for me. So very good,” he whispered praises while his hands trailed errant patterns across the goosefleshed skin of your arms. 

“Did anyone hear us?” you whispered after a while, blinking open your eyes to take in his expression. 

He laughed, causing you to bounce lightly against his chest. “Oh, I’m sure they did. You sang like a songbird for me, darling.”

You huffed in annoyance, too relaxed to drum up much more irritation.

“If anyone complains, I’m going to tell them it was your fault,” you grumbled. 

“I suppose that’s fair. I’ll apologize to them on behalf of my hands, since that’s what started it all,” he smirked. 

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

Train Cars and Sun Spots - Kaminari Denki

—/—

You think he’s beautiful.

A disarming, reckless sort of beautiful as he barrels into the train, jumping headfirst through the doors just seconds from closing. He erupts into a flurry of fidgeting as he skids to a stop, one hand patting down his wild blonde hair and the other dusting off his sweats. It’s like he can’t sit still. Like he’s got an itch in his skin that’s shifting his weight around, balancing on one foot and then the other- rinse and repeat as he grabs onto the handrail above his head for stability.

Another second passes and then he’s pulling a plastic water bottle from his bag, twisting it open and crinkling the plastic. It seems to you that that he’s trying to make as much noise possible, but then you notice his headphones. They’re black and yellow, undeniably playing at full blast in his ears. You then decide it’s much more likely that he just can’t hear himself- that he somehow doesn’t realize how much of a scene he’s making in the otherwise quiet train car.

You find it a little refreshing, him seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You’d been riding this train for weeks now, to and from school, and you’d seen the same people day after day. The same old businessmen and their same old brief-cases and their same old silence. Not him though- never him and his noise. You were sure you’d remember hearing someone as loud as him.

Still, you try not to stare.

Although, you suppose, it wouldn’t really matter. He probably wouldn’t be able to pick you out of all the other people staring. It’s like he’s got the entire train car arrested and staggered; all eyes stuck on the strange boy who was moving far too much for a 7:00AM commute.

Shifting in your seat, you balanced your book higher in your hands. You hoped that by just barely skimming your eyes over the top, hiding inconspicuously behind the pages, you could look and not be noticed.

You were wrong.

When you glance over at him, he’s already looking at you. He’s got eyes like molten gold, and when he smiles they crinkle closed into happy little slits. That smile is easy and unrelenting when he pushes away from the handrail, hands shoved into his pockets as he nears.

“Hey there!”

His words are friendly, but god, if his voice isn’t loud. You wince, beginning to think that you’d severely underestimated the volume of his music. You’re sure now that it absolutely must be bursting his eardrums.

“Oh-“ He looks sheepish. Then he’s yanking the headphones from his ears, and dropping into the seat next to you. “Too loud, right? Sorry! Didn’t realize.”

You’re stunned.

At first, it seemed unbelievable that this conversation could’ve arised from just a single glance; but then you look a little closer, at his shifting eyebrows and his grin that’s colored shades of flirtatious and it’s a little more believeable. You realize quickly that’s all it ever would’ve taken with him- A single look.

“I’m Kaminari.” He announces confidently, your silence not deterring him in the slightest. “Kaminari Denki.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, hi?”

“Hi!” He greets again, and then he’s pulling that same water bottle from his back. It’s crinkling and half-empty and he’s extending it to you. “Want some?”

It’s in the way his eyebrows wiggle, the mischeivous glint in his eyes- you can see his intentions plastered across his face. The water bottle’s just a front for an indirect kiss. Quite literally the oldest trick in the book.

You want to roll your eyes, but then you look at him again. At his bright eyes and long lashes and shaggy hair falling softly over his forehead. He’s the sort of pretty that gives a lot of second chances- you were no exception to that rule.

“No thanks.” You laugh, easily dazzled by his sunshine smile. You raise a palm to push the bottle away. “Keep it to yourself, yeah?”

“Aww, but you’re too cute not to share with!”

The line rolls off his tongue smooth and easy, and you’re sure now- Kaminari’s a flirt. A shameless, brazen one dripping honey between his words as he fluffs his hair. It’s all a little too natural, a little too practiced. It takes only seconds, and you know definitively that you’re far from the first girl he’s offered his water to.

He’s still cute though, if only in a fleeting way, so you decide to humor him. It’s not like you’ve got anything more pressing to attend to.

“Mhm. And just how often do you use that line, huh?” You ask, rolling your eyes playfully.

“I-“ He starts, but then he’s slouching into the seat laughing. “Yeah, maybe not my best work. Meant it though.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“No, really! I did!”

You look at him again.

Kaminari’s straightened himself, eyes earnest and smile kind as he gazes back. He’s fiddling with the strings on his sweatshirt, idly twirling them between his fingers. It’s a human gesture. Unrehearsed and unpracticed and seemingly only for your eyes. You begin to wonder if that’s his real tactic- coming on strong just to melt into warm, sun-soaked softness.

“Alright. I believe you. Maybe.” You say. “But you’re on thin ice, Kaminari.”

“I’ll take it!” He fist-bumps the air. “See normally, I’d be totally crashing and burning by now!”

“So you are admitting I’m not the first girl you’ve tried that on?”

“What I- Okay. Yes? Maybe?” He laughs nervously, hand once again twirling his sweatshirt strings. “In my defense, I’m not the smartest guy, alright?”

“Nor the quietest either.”

“What?”

He’s got his head turned, cocked to the side as he blinks slowly at you. You think he looks like a confused puppy.

“You practically screamed at me when you said hi.” You tell him easily, letting an amused smile crawl across your lips. “Kinda thought I was being yelled at for a second.”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry! Really! I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s okay. Can I give you just a little advice, though?”

“Sure?”

“Don’t scream at the next girl and then immeadiately offer her something to drink. That’s generally pretty suspicious.”

You watch the light leave Kaminari’s eyes and then he folds in his seat. He snaps at the waist, dropping his face into his palms and letting out a theatric groan.

“God, I messed this up.” He whines, peeking at you through his fingers. “Messed up real bad, didn’t I?”

“A little,” You laugh. “But it’s alright.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re good.”

He smiles then, so relieved and happy and just downright giddy that it nearly blinds you. It’s the kind of smile that makes you think he swallowed the sun; like rays of light were bursting through the tiny gaps in his teeth.

“So, what’s your name then?” He asks.

“L/n Y/n.”

“Y/n. Hmm, I like it.” He sighs happily. “Pretty.”

“That’s my first name.”

“I know.” He grins, all pearly whites and crows feet. You think he’s got a dangerous smile- one that lets him get away with anything. “Figured we’re close enough for that, right?”

“I’ve known you for two minutes.”

“Hey, 2 minutes, 2 hours, 2 years- who’s counting?”

“Me.”

“Okay, well good then.” He snickers. “Because I’m like, really bad at math- Wait. Shit. Should I have told you that?”

“Probably not.”

“Man, I am bad at this.” He whines. His knees knock into yours when he throws himself back into his seat. “It’s not my fault, alright? Usually I never get this this far with girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Mhm. Cute ones.”

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes, only so forgiving. “Really laying it on thick, huh?”

“For sure. My stop’s next so I gotta make sure you actually like me at some point in the next few minutes.”

Something evil slithers into your mind, and you’re smirking when you turn toward him. There’s just an inkling, a tiny little theory in your head, and you want to test it.

“Who said I didn’t already like you?”

Kaminari jumps, his cheeks reddening by the second. There’s nothing cool or composed about him and your theory is confirmed.

Kaminari is a dork. A massive, massive, dork desperately pretending to be a cool guy.

“I- what? You like me?” He asks excitedly, voice rising higher. “Seriously? Like, actually?”

“Sure.” You giggle. “You seem pretty harmless, all things considered.”

“That’s- is that a compliment?” He asks playfully, squinting his eyes at you. “Because harmless wasn’t exactly what I was going for.”

“Oh, so you were trying to creep me out?”

“No!” He shakes his head, cheeks slightly flushing as he laughs.

You giggle too, unable to help yourself. Kaminari really is cute, a lot more so when he’s not recycling tired lines.

“You’re mean.” He smiles something small and pleased. “I like it.”

Suddenly the train car jolts, brakes squeaking and squealing as it skids to a stop. You rock forward with the force, and Kaminari knocks his shoulders into yours. When you look at his face, he’s got that mischevious glint back in his eyes, as he bites down on his lip. A second passes and then he touches his shoulders into yours again.

“Really sorry.” He smirks. “Bumpy ride, you know?”

You roll your eyes again, but you are actually feeling a bit charmed. He’s got a sneaky way of buttering people up, you realize- of somehow weaponizing his own embarrassment.

“But I actually do have to go.” He stands, and then he’s pressing his hands together and winking. “I’ll see you here same time tomorrow, right?”

“I don’t know, are you gonna yell at me again?”

“Absolutely! Gottta yell at all the pretty girls, you know?”

“Stop.” You laugh, blushing. You nod towards the doors. “I’ll be here, but go. Door’s gonna close, you dork.”

Kaminari nods and then he’s shoving his headphones back in, still crinkling that water between his fingers. There’s nothing quiet about him as he leaves and you come to think that maybe that’s how he really gets you- it’s not with lines or indirect kisses or grace, it’s with air that seems uncomfortably vacant when he leaves. It’s with the vaccuum he leaves behind.

You watch the doors close after him, but he’s stops on the platform, shooting you a thumbs up through the window. There’s a goofy grin plastered across his face, wide and sunny and brillant. It’s the kind of smile that leaves you wondering if Kaminari knows just how brightly he shines.

When the train kicks into motion again, you’re smiling too, rubbing your eyes as you blink away the sun spots he left behind.

//—//

jus a lil somethin for denki,, as a ~treat~,,, may or may not turn this into a tiny lil series we’ll see :))))

Favourite sex position headcanons III

Pairings: Inazuma edition. Thoma, Kazuha, Gorou, Itto (separately) x f!reader

Warning: dom/sub, biting, hickeys, unprotected sex, cumming inside, stomach bulge, overstimulation, voyeurism

W/c: Bulletpoint headcanons and a short drabble.

a/n: idk what happened to gorou’s it was going to be cute and then i thought; “what if i just made him annoyed and horny?” that being said itto still wins my personal favourite for this batch because i’m a big simp ;)

NSFW, 18+ content below cut, MDI.

Keep reading

me: *is jokingly mean to my friend*

friend: *jokingly pretends to be hurt*

me:

You know I enjoy something when I actually draw. Here are all my best friends beautiful eyes. I am very normal about this game.

inspired by this edit and this artwork

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

whenever my program freezes

gale doodles (goodles)

first drawing references this pinterest post !

edit: pinterest links don't work if you're not signed in, i've attached the original ref image below the cut and here's the vogue link. the designer is Guo Pei and the dress is from her fall 2019 couture collection

pinterest ux my beloathed

Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain

coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)

panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)

keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)

trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)

sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)

whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)

clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)

writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)

crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)

dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)

wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)

doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)

heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)

gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)

murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)

hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)

stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)

staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)

recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)

pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)

Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!