‘Tis the Fucking Season
Title: ‘Tis the Fucking Season
Genre(s): Muggle AU, Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 31,297
Summary: Six-year absences. Yearly photograph burnings (figuratively). Low-cut tops. Two nosebleeds. Little red notebooks. The Past, with a capital P. The desire to pour your heart out to strangers (maybe pathologically). The desire to do unspeakably bad things to one James Potter. These are the ingredients that make up Lily Evans’s holiday season. Shelby the cabbie is in for a fucking ride.
69 notes · View notes
“enemies to lovers” this and “friends to lovers” that bitch where is my childhood rivals to attempted friendship to enemies to enemies with a forced alliance to grudging mutual respect to growing affection to friends to friends with benefits with mutual pining to lovers
1K notes · View notes
nothing can stop me 😤
22K notes · View notes
a shit ton of prompts for slow burn couples
A and B instantly hits it off when they meet for the first time, spends a whole night bonding/talking about things they have in common
character A wingman character B to ask character C out ''i don't know if i can do this.'' ''you can, and you will. just put on your best smile. you'll woo [them]. just like you wooed me.'' bonus point: character B starts dating character C, character A's happy for them, but after a couple of weeks, character A starts feeling jealous, realizing they want what B and C have... with B
bonus point to the one above, character A's reaction to seeing character B kiss character C is *that should be me* but then they're also like *that shouldn't be me. stop thinking that way. you're not in love with [B].''
we're best friends :) why does everyone always think we're dating
character A gets their heart broken, character B spends the entire night by their side
when character A leaves, character B realizes they can't bear to be away from character A, even for a second, but they can't bring themselves to tell character A to stay, so instead they say a silent goodbye, and shed some tears as they watch character A leave for new adventures
''i know this is weird but could you like, hold me tonight?'' ''okkkkkkkk''
character B is wronged by the antagonist, character A makes it their mission to get vengeance for B, no matter what it takes
''trust me, there's nothing going on between us.'' ''are you sure?'' ''he's my best friend. that's all.'' but now, because of this conversation, the thought of there being something going on between them keeps on circling character A's mind...
character B craves intimacy, and they miss character A, so they pick up their phone, dials character A's number, but then decides not to call, because it's late, and that would be weird... right?
character B straddles character A's hips, their eyes just *happen to connect* and wait a minute now why am i straddling your hips? ok this is awkward but ngl i'm kinda enjoying this also you've got really pretty eyes i think i'm drowning
everyone around A and B can tell they're in love with each other because at this point they're acting like a couple
I . JUST . TRIPPED . RIGHT . OVER . YOU . MY BODY IS PRESSED AGAINST YOUR BODY . HELP ME???!????!??!?! bonus if character A asks ''are you gonna get up?'' because character B's gotten lost in A's eyes and hasn't moved for thirty seconds
your hand is on mine and my whole body is on fire but i can't do anything about it -- also wait what why? ok but let me just intertwine our fingers... wait what the hell why are you looking at me like that whAT IS HAPPENING
telling their friend “i’m not in love with [character A]” *turns around* *sees character A* *drops jaw*
A and B are dancing with other people, their eyes move across the dance floor, only to land on each other’s, they lock eyes, and their eyes stay locked on each other during the whole dance... even though they're dancing... with other people
A and B are shoved into a room with only one bed, and it’s kinda awkward ‘’i’ll just take the couch.’’ ‘’don’t be ridiculous. we can share a bed’’ and then they just lay there, awake, the whole night, staring at the ceiling like two dumbasses ?
A and B's hugs last a little longer than they should, and when they pull back, they smile at each other, throwing a last glance in each other's direction before parting ways
A and B are close to kissing, but pull away last second, and they’re both like ? what the fuck was that because neither of them realizes they're in love with each other
heh what if A and B got locked in a tight space, and there's so little space their bodies are touching at all times
A: you've got me pinned against the wall aND HOLY FUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING
B: i've got you pinned against the wall aND HOLY FUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU TO GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER BUT NOW ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS KISSING YOU
A and B: WE'RE SHARING A MOMENT AGAINST THIS WALL AND HOLY FUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING I CAN'T STOP STARING AT YOUR LIPS YOU CAN'T STOP STARING AT MINE HEY WHAT IF WE KISSED BUT RIGHT AS OUR LIPS ARE ABOUT TO MEET THE DOOR OPENS AND WE'RE INTERRUPTED
muttering ''fuck it'' before kissing each other for the first time because fuck this shit
A + B are in an argument, then they stop, just stare at each other, and then crash their lips together, because, like i said... fuck this shit
1K notes · View notes
when you're reading a multichapter slow burn + mutual pining and the characters FINALLY kiss
5K notes · View notes
Pining Headcanons With The Warriors
I’m in an AOT funk rn so I’m writing this
Also I just figured out how to cut off posts am I galaxy brain or what??
The only possible relationship anybody can have with him is rivals to lovers
As soon as he gets feelings, he’s going to be an absolute prick to you. He doesn’t really know how to go about it, despite having a few S/O’s before
Get ready to have a ton of arguments with inexplicable sexual tension
He actively does dumb shit just to get your attention
If someone tells him that you even briefly mentioned him while he wasn’t around, he’s going to melt
He loves the idea of you thinking about him without him being present. And talking about him? With somebody else?? He’s dead
He kinda gets jealous easily but won’t act on it, despite being a bit standoffish for a while
Despite being ‘enemies’, you sure do hang out a lot. You get into fights over who should pay for the ice cream
Sometimes you buy the warrior recruits increasingly expensive things just to outdo eachother. They love it
He also gets really defensive over you. He’ll deny any feelings yet freak out when someone says something slightly negative about you because only he’s allowed to do that
Gabi, Udo and Falco have a whole conspiracy trying to get you together. They wanted to get Zofia on board but she’d just straight up tell you and ruin the whole thing
He falls asleep all the time in pretty wierd places so one time you just kinda picked him up and carried him to his bed. When he woke up the next morning and heard about it he almost screamed and couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks. He’s kinda mad that he was asleep and doesn’t remember it
Do anything for him and he’ll almost cry
He’s not exactly used to being taken care of
You were paired up for fighting once, she threw you to the ground, and it was all downhill from there
For someone so cold, she developed feelings pretty easily
Automatically makes excuses to spend more time with you, or just be in the same room as you
She tries getting rid of her feelings at first because she’s dedicated to her mission, but her interest slowly starts shifting to you
You challenge her during training just to be close to her, and she gladly accepts
Any touch from you will send her into a screaming fit. Nobody knows tho she’s good at internalizing it
She’s horrible with feelings. Might even accidentally insult you in a panic
Girl will literally fall in love with you if you brush off her occasional harsh behaviour and stay with her
She likes knowing that she can mess up sometimes and you won’t leave. Relieves a lot of stress on her part
Constantly protects you during battles or subconsciously stands in front of you protectively when in crowds, just in case
While she doesn’t overlook any of your flaws, she decided that she loves all of you
Once that happens you’re not getting rid of her :) ever
She won’t confess tho. Nobody knows about it anyway because she’s such an enigma
No seriously. She’s eerily good at hiding her massive crush. And even when she’s obvious about it, nobody suspects anything because it’s her we’re talking about
Plus she wants you to admit it first, if you like her
Bertolt? Bertdolt? Bertolholt? Benadryl? Beryllium Hydride?
He’s probably going to avoid you for the first while, and panic whenever you’re in the same room
Nervousness overtakes him and he can barely even look at you
When Reiner practically pushed him into you, he gained a little more confidence, but he also knocked you over and had a meltdown
He knew he was far gone when you laughed it off, helping him up. His heart was going
He finds it a lot easier to talk to you after doing it once
Bro’s got no spine tho so he’s a bit of a people pleaser when it comes to you. Starts agreeing with everything you say and picking up some of your mannerisms and hobbies
Give him any sort of praise and he’ll malfunction so hard he’ll enter the 4th dimension and also probably walk straight into a pole
His dreams are constantly infested with you. Sometimes he’ll wake up and expect you to be beside him before realizing it. He’ll sit up and hide his face in his hands, just absolutely embarassed
He often relies on you for emotional support, since you have a wierd knack for knowing when somethings off about him
So obviously you found out about the whole Titan warrior thing. His soul left his body when you first mentioned it, but you aren’t a snitch and swore to secrecy, on the promise that you’re not on their side and would still kill them if need be
He’s kinda scared of you sometimes lmao
She’s so oblivious
She may be smart when it comes to battle strategy and deduction, but when it comes to emotions, she’s stumped
Doesn’t even realize she likes you until you express worry for her during a fight, and her only reaction was “...shit...”
Once she knows, she’s doing everything she can to get you to like her back
She starts spending more time with you, buying you things, complimenting you, all that jazz
It’s so obvious even Reiner notices
Of course Porco’s out here wingmaning and asking you what you think of her
You’re already pretty close friends, so it wouldn’t be too wierd of her to ask you to play with her hair, right?
She seeks out any kind of physical contact with you all the time. She’ll lay her head in your lap and sleep while on the couch, bear hug you when she sees you, hold your hand, etc.
It’s not that suspicious because she’s pretty touchy with everybody, but it’s a whole other level with you
She gets hella intrusive thoughts. So she might have a few lecherous daydreams about you a day. Sometimes it’s wierd because she’s just staring at you while zoned out
She verbally expresses she would die for you atleast 3 times a week
And she’s not joking
He can’t deal with emotions well, especially with all the guilt he got going on, and he’s given up trying to sort them out. All he knows is that he loves you, isn’t that enough?
I was gonna use an s4 gif but this one was clearly superior
He’s beating the emotions out of him with a stick at this point
Like no. Crushing on someone? In this economy?
He’s never dated anybody so he has no idea how to go about it
So he writes letters. He doesn’t send them, but they exist. They bring him some form of comfort at least
He can’t fall asleep some nights because he’s awake thinking about you
Creates a lot of unrealistic scenarios in his head that he immediately scraps when he sees you
Deadass actively avoids you sometimes lol
Mans already has a detailed wedding plan before you even became friends
Once you get closer, he is overjoyed and can’t stop smiling sometimes, but very quickly relapses at the slightest negative thought
It kind of becomes a hate/love relationship
He will absolutely bicker with you just to become an embarassed, flustered mess when you leave
A total simp tho
The day you find his letters is the day he actually passes away
He can and will follow you everywhere you go
It’s kinda creepy sometimes ngl
He’ll do things like straighten your hoodie strings or run his fingers through your hair because you ‘had a knot’
Often masks his desire to be close to you as being helpful
This dude gives you a lot of longing stares from across the room
It usually comes off as really intimidating and you usually come out of it with a sense of horror and dread, but he was actually just admiring how beautiful your eyes were or something like that
He fell for your voice so anything you say will sound angelic to him. I don’t care if you sound like a dying horse. He digs it because it’s you
On the flip side of the helpful thing, he’s always asking you for small favours
Mostly giving him a massage or brushing his hair. Things that will let him get close to you
He also asks a lot of questions about what you think of him. He wants to be sure you feel the same way if he’s going to confess
Surprisingly, he gets butterflies easily. Especially when you do things for him with no obligation to
Might even shed a tear if you hug him, leaping into his arms when you see him for the first time in a while
He will never chase somebody, but for you, he might just power walk. Maybe jog a lil
2K notes · View notes
Day 4: Firsts (or maybe Seconds), 2k Followers Celebration Content Creator Event
The first time Dean proposes to Cas, it's all fake. Just for a case. They needed to make a scene to draw the attention of the God they were hunting, who just so happened to be killing newly engaged couples.
Dean drops to his knee and pulls the box out right there in the middle of the town's busiest park, where everyone in town gathers in the summer evenings. The ring is a cheap sterling silver in a small little box. There's nothing real about it. Except everything about the proposal feels real to Dean.
Dean's hidden feelings, the way Cas smiles with his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way Dean knows is Cas' true smile as he says the words, "Cas, my angel, please make me the happiest man alive and do me the honor of marrying me", to the way Cas' arms wrap around Dean's neck after he says yes; his fingers brushing ever-so-softly over Dean's jaw. It's achingly tender and completely fake, and yet Dean's heart is screaming at his rib cage real, real, real.
He brushes it off, he has to, because there's a job to be done and monsters to kill. But God, the way his heart leaps into his throat when he sees the ring perched on Cas' finger, it's enough to make Dean feel sick with longing. He wants that. Wants to see a real ring on Cas' finger, and he wants to be the one to put it there. But he can't. Can't ruin their friendship with his feelings that Cas could never reciprocate.
Their first kiss is fake, too. It's Cas' idea. They're at this massive gala event, trying to track down the culprit who's specifically targeting gay couples from this elite circle and sacrificing them in bloody massacres. Dean couldn't possibly come in with Sam as his date, so Cas had volunteered.
He thought that would be enough, but clearly they hadn't caught the monster's attention yet, otherwise they wouldn't still be mingling like this. They needed to draw attention and fast.
Cas must've been thinking the same thing, because he shifted his hand from Dean's lower back to his neck. "Do you trust me?" Cas murmured, quiet enough that only Dean could hear.
"Always," Dean replied instantly, because there was no one he trusted more than Cas.
"Play along," Cas muttered, before he spun around, and tugged Dean down into a kiss.
Not just any kiss. God, this kiss was absolutely breath stealing. Cas' fingers tangled into Dean's hair, and Dean scrambled to loop his arms around Cas' waist.
They kissed long and slow, starting off gentle and sweet but quickly morphing into something desperate and biting. It was thrilling, sending a low thrum down Dean's spine and causing his heart to flutter in his chest. It was everything he'd been wanting for so long, to kiss Cas like this. To be kissed like this, with Cas' lips gliding against his own.
But when they broke apart, the reality of the situation sunk in. The air around them had shifted; cold tendrils creeping towards them that had Dean's hairs standing on end. They'd caught the monster's attention.
"Smart thinking," Dean muttered, hand moving to his gun tucked in the back of his waistband.
And for a second, when Dean looked over at Cas, he could've sworn he'd seen longing and desire etched across his features. But it was quickly replaced with determination as the threat of the monster creeped towards them.
The first time they go on a date, it's a ruse as well. Or, well, it starts that way, at least. They're at this outdoor botanical garden open to the public to buy flowers of their choosing. Dean and Cas are half looking at the flowers for fun and half analyzing to see which ones are being used in a spell by a witch to control and kill people. Somehow, even though it’s not an official date, it almost feels like one.
Cas’ hand keeps brushing against Dean’s as he explains in hushed excitement about the different flowers and their meanings as the petals glinted in the sunshine. Bright oranges, elegant yellows, pastel pinks, and vibrant reds. Even the air smells like heaven, soft floral scents mixing together and creating a soft atmosphere.
It was the kind of date Dean had never envisioned himself going on, but seeing the pure happiness radiating off of Cas, the worries over the hunt melted away for just a brief second as the beauty of the flowers surrounded them.
Once Dean caught sight of the flowers that the witch had been using, he diverged from Cas for a moment, claiming he needed to collect all the flowers so the witch couldn’t use them. But on his way, his eyes caught sight of a collection of tulips. The thought lingered in his mind. Hadn’t Cas said just a few minutes ago that tulips represented love and perfection?
Carefully, Dean plucked out several red tulips and a single red rose. After stashing all of the dangerous flowers into the trunk of the Impala, Dean took his small bouquet and made his way back to Cas.
Cas’ eyes caught Dean, and when they locked gazes, Dean could feel his cheeks burning. Slowly, he offered the 4 flowers to Cas. “For you,” he murmured.
Cas took the flowers, fingers brushing over Dean’s as the meaning of the flowers sunk in. Romance. Passion. Love.
“Dean,” Cas gasped quietly, looking from the flowers to Dean and back to the flowers.
“It’s all backwards. We’ve had all our firsts even though it doesn’t count. First date, first kiss, even a proposal.”
Cas seems to understand what Dean is saying, because he reaches out and pulls Dean closer. “Firsts are overrated. I think seconds sound much more appealing.”
And right there, they have their second ‘first’ kiss. This time, it’s achingly soft and sweet; lips locking and little breaths gasped out between them. In their little corner of the botanical gardens, where no one else is around, they kiss and kiss; tender brushes of mouths and gentle touches as they both melt into the kiss. It’s absolutely perfect.
Dean decides he likes ‘seconds’ a lot more than he likes ‘firsts.’ Their second ‘first date’ they go fishing and Cas brings a little picnic for them, too. It’s so sentimental and ridiculously cute that Dean can barely breathe. It’s domestic and adorable, and everything inside of him aches with it.
And two years later, when Dean proposes to Cas for the second and last time, it’s at dinner in front of their family- Sam and Eileen, Jack and Bobby, Charlie and Garth and Bess, Jody and Donna and the girls. It’s better than their first proposal by a million miles, and as Dean opens the box, real gold ring glinting in the Bunker’s fluorescent light, Cas barely even lets Dean ask before he’s dragging him into a kiss, muttering, “Yes, yes, yes,” against Dean’s mouth.
Dean says they’re only going to have one wedding, but Cas disagrees. Not when they’ve done everything else as a second ‘first’. So they’re first wedding is a little affair, just the two of them, with Sam and Jack as witnesses. But their second wedding, that’s the one that really counts. All of their family and hunter friends come down to the wedding. It’s beautiful and special, and as Dean says, “I do,” for the second time, Cas kisses him so enthusiastically that Dean feels dizzy with it. Oh yes, firsts were definitely overrated, especially when he got to have as many second experiences with Cas as he wanted.
Now, what could he plan for their second honeymoon...
Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)
Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine @bibelphegor @likepurplemuses @expectingtofly @neo-neo-neo @shadowywerewolfqueen @a-sweet-indisposition @feraladoration @xojo
@oganizediguana @paintdriesfaster @adsp-destielcockles @destielangst @ivydean @justa-crayon @dea-stiel @superduckbatrebel @destielfactory @miluiel-erynion
@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel @toxic-nebula @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @proudace @galaxymysteryelephant @aelysianmuse @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean
@welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @deansotherotherblog @trekkie24 @geo-val @dizzypinwheel @hermionevaldez9 @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho @dickspeightjrs @imbiowaresbitch
@destielle @hopefuldreamers-world @organicpurplepants @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @shut-up-dean @sapphirecobalt-1 @eshaninjer @spnobsessed50 @mishka @holygoddessofvictory
@jayus-fandom-writer @2musiclover2 @rainbowscas @bennedict @cassiecasyl @jensenacklesruinedmylife @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @chaoticdean @destiel-trash-asf @tlakhtwritesdestiel
@bri-winchester @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx
@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas
2K notes · View notes
I think one of my favorite slowburn/oblivious mutual pining tropes is when the pair goes on not-a-date. That is, when they go hang out, alone together, doing things that would normally classify as a date if the two of them weren't stubbornly telling themselves that they were reading too much into it, they're just hanging out like friends do, no really. There's always a moment right at the end where they nearly kiss but something interrupts or they lose their nerve at the last second and it's just so good
6K notes · View notes
My Professor: “The author used superfluous words here. Don’t do that in your own essay. Know your audience. When was the last time you used the word, “pine”, as in to long for, in an everyday sentence?”
Me, a tumblr user:
38K notes · View notes
Happy 500! I love your monster fics (teehee), but I'm actually here to request some Frankie Morales. If it pleases you, would you do a fic where you, a casual acquaintance he's been crushing on, accidentally has a nip slip, and Frankie is torn between telling you or letting the image burn in his mind a little longer.
Thank you, anon!!! I didn't do a *nip slip*, per se, but there is plenty of nipple mention/worship in the story, so hopefully that makes up for it!
-also oh yeah it's smut-
Dedicated to the sweet Anon that gave me so many thots with this request!
Summary: Will's end of summer barbecue has Frankie seeing more of you than he ever anticipated.
Rated: M! Dear God, M-M-M! 18+ Only, NSFW, SMUT AHEAD
Warnings: Smut, bathroom sex, curvy!F!Reader, Frankie crushing hard, Benny being a little s***, Will being all-knowing, talk of grilling burgers, pool fun, end of summer barbecue, yearning, shy!Reader, nipple worship, cursing, p in v sex y'all, no condom but let it always be assumed some other form of birth control is involved- practice safe sex, folks! (Also, a very brief, squint and you'll miss it, nod to the incredible Jurassic Frontier series that everyone already knows about, I assume.)
Word Count: 3.5K oops
Frankie is staring. He knows it and he can't help it. Someone, probably Ben, had cannon-balled into the pool, dousing you in water and making you sputter and shriek. The white shirt covering your suit is soaked, revealing the silhouette of your form and… and your…
Frankie nearly groans aloud.
Your nipples are budding as he watches, hardening from the coolness of the water and the breeze drifting between the trees of Will's backyard. You shiver lightly, turning away and crossing your arms as his friends, now yours too, laugh goodnaturedly at your expense. You laugh in return and wave Pope away when he motions you to jump in the water with him and Ben, instead padding over to the towel you'd laid neatly on the chair directly next to Frankie. His stomach begins to twist as you approach, and he straightens subtly in his seat, gripping the beer in his hand a little too tight.
You smile as you reach down for your towel, avoiding his gaze bashfully. He wants to focus on how cute you look in an oversized shirt, he really does- but his eyes keep zeroing in on your breasts. He takes a swig of beer, hoping to quench the sudden dryness in his throat. "Having fun?" The question comes out thick, almost choked, and he wants to kick himself for it.
You tuck your towel around yourself and sit down, shrugging as you glance at him. "I'm not a big fan of swimming," you admit to him softly. "But I wasn't gonna say 'no' to Will."
Frankie raises an eyebrow. "You don't like swimming?"
He'd only known you for a few months, but the admission seems out of character for you. You had never expressed a distaste for swimming before. You look over at him, seemingly ashamed. "Well, swimming is fine, I guess. It's just the… the 'being in a bathing suit in front of other people' part I dislike." You trail off with a nervous laugh, tucking the towel more securely around your chest.
Frankie takes another drink, considering what you've told him. It doesn't surprise him- you're shy. You had been since he first met you. Hell, that's part of his attraction to you. He thinks it's endearing. He thinks you're cute. And it certainly doesn't hurt that you're one of the kindest, smartest, most curvaceous women he's ever met. Yeah, Frankie's got it bad. And Will knew, which Frankie knows is exactly why he's been inviting you to their little get-togethers for the past 4 months.
Your discomfort with your body seems so odd to him though- maybe because you always dress nice, what with working at the VA with Will. Or maybe because he can see how fucking gorgeous you are, even in a plain black one-piece and a too-big white shirt that shows off everything and sends his mind racing. It doesn't compute. You should be flaunting your body, stripping that damned shirt off, jumping in the pool with your friends. Frankie pictures it for a moment, and it’s like a slow-mo porn shot in his mind: you, coming up from the water, hair slicked away from your face, glistening, gleaming, climbing up that rickety plastic ladder on the side of pool, your entire body revealed to him inch by inch, the black swimsuit hugging you in all the right places-
Jesus Christ. He needs to get laid. It had been too long. There had been a few opportunities, but he is batshit crazy for you and he always found himself comparing them to you and knowing he wouldn't be satisfied, and… and fuck, he wants you.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about, if that helps," he tells you. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge your reaction.
You blink at him and he can see your mind turning over his words, attempting to find the true meaning of his comment. He watches it register, knows you understand as your pupils dilate and your chest expands over an inhaled little "oh".
He wishes you'd take the fucking towel off.
He finally turns his head to look at you. He's surprised to see you staring straight at him, gnawing at your lip as your eyes dart over his features. He scratches his jaw self-consciously, pressing his lips together as he swallows against the lump in his throat.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
He nearly pulls a muscle with how quickly he turns to glance at you. "No," he admits. He ignores the tightening in his shorts, willing himself to calm down. It was a perfectly innocent question. No need to get your hopes up, he tells himself.
"Me neither," you say, looking out at the pool. You look contemplative, the light of the sun reflecting off the water and hitting your face prettily. Frankie wonders if that was a hint for him to ask you out...
"Burgers are almost done," calls Will from the yard. The two of you look over your shoulders to see him busy at the grill, grey smoke drifting up to the blue sky. There's a shout from the pool that makes you turn just in time for Benny to body slam into the water, sending a wave crashing over the two of you from your spots at the edge of the pool.
Frankie sputters indignantly, blinking water out of his eyes. "Benny, you mother fu-"
Your sudden giggles give him pause, make him look over to you where you are drenched in your seat. Frankie watches as you laugh, wiping the water from your eyes. You catch his gaze, giving him a brilliant grin that makes him smile in return.
He sets his watery beer down, removes his hat and shakes out his hair. You laugh even more when the water droplets flick you in the face.
"Get a room!" Ben shouts.
Frankie casually flips him off, still grinning at you. It makes you laugh even harder, and something in him melts at the sound.
You shiver as another cool breeze rolls through and Frankie stands suddenly, offering his hand to you. "Let's see if Will's got some spare towels." The offer is soft, slightly hesitant. But you take his hand gratefully and it soothes any fear of rejection. He keeps hold of your hand lightly, disappointed when it casually slips from his as the two of you walk towards the house.
He leads you past Will, informing the captain that you're off to find a dry towel and Will only smirks, flipping a burger knowingly. Frankie ignores that and walks to the sliding glass door. You pause, glancing down at your dripping form.
Frankie isn't prepared when you suddenly drop your towel; it lands on the concrete patio with a wet "slap". You wring your shirt out, oblivious to the way his gaze roams over the curve of your breasts, the way he licks his lips when he sees your pert nipples through your suit and shirt.
You turn back, looking apologetic. "I don't want to mess up his floors," you explain. Frankie swallows and nods, sliding the door open and gesturing for you to step inside.
You do so lithely, practically tiptoeing through the cool, quiet house. Frankie slides the door shut after he enters, the sounds from outside suddenly muted. You're waiting for him, smiling.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The two of you had been to Will's house a few times before, one time taking part in a Jurassic Park marathon at the insistence of Pope, so you already knew where the bathroom was.
The two of you pad down the hallway, shoulder to shoulder. You make the turn into the bathroom first, Frankie following suit. He starts digging through the tall cabinet in there, knowing that's where Will kept spare towels. He pulls one out for you, opting to use a smaller one for himself.
It's quiet, save for the soft rustling of terrycloth on hair and wet cotton. Frankie wipes at his face and neck, pulse beating erratically as he watches you towel at your hair. You're leaned over to the side, head tilted as you pat at your hair. You seem to sense him looking because your gaze meets his suddenly.
He looks away, heart leaping in his throat.
He sees you stop moving out of the corner of his eye.
"You… you can look." It's soft, breathless, and it goes straight to Frankie's cock.
He pauses, then lifts his eyes to look at you from beneath his lashes cautiously, mouth parting in awe as he searches your timid gaze. It feels like a dream, and he would consider it just that if it weren't for the heat he sees spilling over your cheeks, darkening them pleasantly.
You swallow before setting the towel down on the counter behind you. Then, slowly, you grip the bottom of your shirt and lift. Frankie watches, saliva pooling in his mouth as your thighs are revealed; then hips, then stomach, then your amazing fucking chest, and then the shirt is off. It lands next to your towel, tumbling into the sink.
Frankie's breathing is picking up. You said he could look and he does just that. He commits you to memory, filing away the image of your suit dipping down between your tits, the simple style accentuating your features and making the blood rush from his head. Even through the black fabric, with the light from the small window at the end of the bathroom helping, Frankie can see how hard your nipples are. The suit cups your breasts, sticking to you like a second skin and leaving little to his imagination. You may as well be totally exposed to him right now.
You lift your hand to touch the back of your neck, eyes wide and nervous, and then you pull on the knot that holds the straps up.
Frankie huffs out a strangled moan as the halter top falls away and your breasts, beautiful and full and fucking magnificent, are revealed to him. His eyes shoot up to yours, slightly panicked at what he's seeing, despite your earlier permission. He sees the same panic in yours, can see the question of "what am I doing" plastered across your face.
Frankie darts forward before he can think. He grabs your waist, hoists you up onto the counter, and slams his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You let out a muffled sound of surprise, wiggling against the counter and knocking over a few toiletries stacked neatly behind you in the process.
Frankie licks at you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth as his heart works to fly out of his chest. Jesus fuck- you're so sweet and good and-
You arch into him and all coherent thoughts tumble out of his mind.
His hand finds your breast instantly, thumb brushing over your nipple as he kisses you senseless. His other hand grips the back of your neck tightly, pressing you into him as if it will help him devour you. He'd be worried about being rough except you meet his advances with such fervor.
You grunt into him, fingers drifting over his patchy beard while your other hand cups his, guiding him over your breast. You squeeze and in return, he does too. There's something erotic about the way you're controlling his hand; your own fingers slip over his and move to brush over your nipple- he can feel the movement between his thumb and forefinger, the action making him growl into you.
You pull back slightly, resting your forehead to his as the two of you struggle to catch your breath. "Frankie," you pant. "I've been thinking about you for months." Your admission has him reeling. You… had thought about him?
The hand on your neck drifts forward, slides up to cradle your jaw even as he works your nipple between his fingers with the opposite hand. "Fuck," he groans. "Fuck, me too. I can't tell you how much I've thought about you- about this." He pinches for emphasis and you arch with a gasp.
He dips down, kissing down your neck and collar until he reaches your chest. His tongue darts out to flick your nipple, tasting the fleshy nub while he pinches the other. You whimper, thighs squeezing around his waist where he's fitted to you at the edge of the counter. You moan his name- it's all the encouragement he needs to take the bud into his mouth and suck.
You jerk against him, mouth falling open around a breathy moan. Your hand flits up to tangle in his damp hair, your palm pressing into his skull as you hold him to your tit where he licks and nips and suckles at you like a glutton. You grind into him, legs clenching around him as you work to find friction. He keeps you pressed into him even as he leans into you.
He groans, huffing around your breast. He feels drunk. His thoughts are fuzzy and warm, and filled with you. The way you taste as he swirls his tongue over the perky bud that he's currently grazing his teeth over; the way you sound when your breath catches in your throat and you whisper his name; the smell of your arousal, damp and hot, as it hits his nose with every fucking grind of your hips.
He lets go of you with a wet pop, pulling back enough to straighten. He lets go of your chest, hand slipping down to his shorts where he slides them down easily, just enough for his cock to spring free. Your hand now no longer holding his, you use it to grab the bottom of your suit, pulling it aside with a whimper. The fabric strains against you and you struggle for a moment, adjusting your position on the counter to wedge the suit to the side.
Frankie grabs himself, stroking a few times on instinct before he guides himself to your entrance. His lip curls with barely contained desire when he feels how wet you are. Your cunt is soaked, coated in arousal from him- for him. His knuckles brush your fingers where you're holding the suit aside for him. He kisses you again, suddenly, inexplicably nervous- the kiss helps. You shudder when he presses into you.
It's just the tip, but he can feel you clenching in anticipation. He pushes slowly, mouth falling open against yours as the two of you forget how to breathe. Frankie feels light as air. He thinks he may float away except for the anchor of you holding him there.
You're so fucking tight. He pushes and pushes until he's buried to the hilt, sheathed in the unbearable heat of you. He thinks you've stopped breathing until you let out a choked cry. Your head tilts back until it touches the mirror behind you. Frankie's gaze darts to it- brown eyes so dark with lust they're nearly black stare back at him. Hair mussed and damp, brow beading with sweat, Frankie looks a mess. But then he sees the way your throat moves as you swallow, the motion pulling his vision back to you.
You look… beautiful.
You're biting your lip, eyes squeezed shut and brows drawn up in a way that exudes the guilt you feel for the pleasure you're in. Frankie knows you don't do this- you don't hook up. He pulls back before surging forward again, grunting at the way you squeeze around him and give a little cry. You're trembling.
He presses a heated kiss to your damp temple, eyes rolling back as he begins to pump into you. It's slow, and hot, and he makes sure to drag himself out so you can feel every last inch of him. You clench around him every time he surges back into you.
He pushes harder, hips snapping quicker. The bottles and tubes and the soap dish all rattle with the force of it, the counter creaking with each thrust. Your hand flutters up to grip at his back; the button down shirt he'd chosen for the day becomes bunched in your fist. You give the sweetest little moan every time he slams into you, high-pitched and keening.
There is no space between your bodies. The two of you mold together, move as one, grinding and sweating and panting as the impromptu bathroom sex goes softly intimate. Frankie sweeps his lips over yours, over and over again. He murmurs praises to you, whispered and halting, punctuated by grunts and moans as he moves. He tells you how beautiful you are, how he's liked you since he first met you, how he hasn't thought of anything or anyone but you since. He details exactly what he thought when he saw you drenched in water, and saw your form beneath the shirt.
You're squeezing him so tight, giving him little cries in his ear that spur him on. You shift back slightly, your hips tilting to meet his thrusts, swiveling down and up as you search out your release. Frankie braces one hand against the counter, grips the back of your knee with the other. He lifts your leg and pushes, leaning your upper body against the mirror and wall as he hooks your leg over his shoulder. He tiptoes, leaning down into you.
The new angle makes you writhe against him, a choked groan tumbling from you. You mutter his name, still clinging to his back.
And then he fucks you.
It's fast and hard, and there's sweat and slick drenching your thighs while he pounds into your tight cunt. He bites at your neck where his head has fallen, teeth digging into you as he moans.
Your hand falls away from his back, flutters down to your clit where you circle it feverishly. "Frankie," you gasp. "Frankie, I'm gonna-"
"That's it, baby. That's it. Cum for me." He licks at your neck, lifts his head to watch you touch yourself. The sight has him tipping over the edge. His balls tighten and he gasps, the release spilling out of him so forcefully that he grips your head, fingers curling in the hair at your scalp as he struggles to hold on.
You clench around him suddenly, hips stuttering, mouth falling open as you pulse around him. He pumps a few more times, cock twitching inside you as he rides out his orgasm. Your body vibrates against him, your own release sending you soaring. He waits patiently for you to relax against him as he comes down.
The two of you stay still for a minute, struggling to catch your breath. He pulls away enough to press his sweaty forehead to yours and lowers your leg carefully. He nearly laughs when he sees the sated, blissful smile on your face. You look happy. And the fact that he did that? Well, Frankie's not used to feeling pride, but he could get fucking used to it if you'd let him.
He lets go of your hair, his fingers aching with how tightly he'd gripped you. He murmurs an apology to which you quickly shake your head, nose brushing against his. Your chest is still heaving as you work to even your breathing. It pulls his gaze once more and he notices then the indentations the suit had left on you. He bends before he can comprehend it, pressing his lips to the angry marks outlining your breasts and crawling up your neck where the straps had been tied so tightly.
You huff out a nervous laugh at his antics, fingers running through his hair absently.
"I hope that was… um, okay?" You say, avoiding his eyes when he straightens to look at you. You look so embarrassed- it's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen.
"More than okay. Fucking amazing," he assures you, voice deep and raspy. He reaches up to trace your lips tenderly. "And, if you want, we can try it again sometime. In bed."
You laugh, muscles tightening around him with the action. He grunts, hips jerking back. He was still inside you, limp, but growing hard again- still, the sudden pressure around his cock was overwhelming.
You scramble back on the counter, apologizing profusely as he eases himself out. He shushes you by kissing you once more, this time letting his mouth linger on yours. It lasts a while, and it's nice. It soothes you, draws you back into him so that your hand ghosts up his chest to circle gently around the back of his neck.
BAM, BAM, BAM!!!
"You two better hurry the fuck up- I gotta piss!"
You stare at each other, eyes wide at Ben's shout. You hear him shuffle away from the bathroom door, grumbling "Hope you used a condom."
You blink and then...
And then you burst out laughing, Frankie joining in only when he sees the way your eyes crinkle and how you toss your head back, shoulders lifting in mirth.
Best fucking barbecue ever.
327 notes · View notes
kuroo’s almost certain, so candidly sure, that if you were anything, anything but the person he sits next to in all his classes, it’s that you were completely out of his league.
something about your aura - your charm - the way you keep your head down when you’re reading a book instead of paying attention to the lecture, the way your notes are covered in doodles in the corners of your pages.
so — charming.
everyone seemed to like you and he doesn’t really blame them for that either, you had a way with people, and that made you someone he could only fantasize about getting to know.
he really really would like to talk to you, but for someone who’s been sitting next to you in class all year, he’s only barely managed to say about a handful of words to you, and even he has to admit — that was just pathetic.
“ah shit,” he curses, mostly to himself, and he rummages his bag into disarray, so oblivious to the fact that he’s brought more attention to his situation more than he intends.
kuroo blinks, his actions coming to a quick pause, and was he tripping right now or did he just hear you talk? talk to him?
he looks up, blinking again as if trying to refocus his glance, and he sees you, just as always, sitting idly by in your seat, but this time, you’re looking at him, offering him a polite smile, and he feels his heart ready to betray him.
you tilt your head, “kuroo?”
you know his name - he wants to scream.
of course you know his name, you’ve been seatmates for over the course of a whole semester, but that doesn’t make his urge to scream lessen nonetheless.
“hi.” he tells you, the first thing he could think of off the top of his head.
his face flushes — of all the things he could’ve said to you, he chose to go with hi?
it’s almost like he hasn’t been practicing what to say to you in front of his mirror every morning.
“yes,” you smile wider, laughing with your teeth pressed together and you nod, “hi.”
he laughs back, awkwardly, and he asks, “did you need something?”
“oh.” your shoulders bounce, “i asked if something was wrong, you looked upset.”
he grits his teeth, a nervous chuckle colliding with his words, and he says, “i forgot my textbook for this class.”
you slide a book across your desk, opening the pages a bit wider, and along with it, you scooch over to his side of the table a tad bit - not that you’d think he’d care. (but evidently, he did.)
you look at him, “we can share.”
his ears are red.
and he hesitates, but he scooches closer to your side, the two of you now sitting in the middle of your shared desk, looking over a single book - shoulders touching.
kuroo tries his best to limit looking at you, he was already way too close, and he mumbles, unsure if you could even hear it, “thank you.”
and you look up at him, “it’s not a big deal.”
so he thinks, but it is, at least, it is to him.
he keeps his head supported up by his hand, his palm covering his mouth as he tries to bite back a smile, and your shoulders touch his, and he has to try even harder.
“congratulations on getting to nationals by the way.” you tell him, keeping your attention on the book in front of you, and you can subtly see the smile this brings on his face.
you really like his smile.
he raises a brow, “you know about that?”
“yeah,” you shrug, and your face feels hot with the way he stares at you, “it’s really cool.”
your voice gets quieter, “you’re great on the court.”
so much of what you just said is enough to make kuroo melt right then and there, but he bites back his tongue, desperate for a clever response, desperate for anything that won’t give away his need to scream.
he tilts his head, his smile way too hard to contain, and he says, “you like watching volleyball?”
your shoulders touch his again, and there’s a spark that goes all the way through his spine.
you’re so close to him right now, he just can’t imagine how he could ever get by without you being this close to him again.
there’s a tightness in his chest as he hears your laugh, your eyes holding his and he doesn’t feel the need to break away.
you smile, cheeky, “i like watching you play.”
his face is red, but so are yours.
965 notes · View notes
Could Tom and the reader study together and then one day she’s sick or doesn’t show up and Tom doesn’t really care(he does though) so he opens his book only to find a bunch of pressed flowers you always leave for him thank you I love you’re writing ♥️
This is such a cute idea I could not resist this little one-shot I am dying.
Summary: You give Tom Riddle a flower and it’s all downhill from there.
Content warning: none.
PERMANENT TAGS: @jujugentle @weirdowithnobeardo @sweetgoodangel @fromthehellmouth @whoevenfrickenknows @moatsnow @voidmalfoy @lucys-brain @sunles @arana-alpha @tallyovie @expectoscamander @nothinghcppens @itsjustfics
Thank you so so much to the two people who have donated to my paypal! I sipped a lovely coffee whilst writing this all thanks to you ♥️
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
It starts off very innocuously.
“Is that Phenomena of Dynamic Necromancy?”
Riddle looks up. He has three other stacks of books on his desk, but your eyes are fixed on the crimson-bound book open before him. “Do you need it?” he asks.
“Yeah, how long will you be?”
“A while,” he says with a small frown, looking back at it. “I’ve chosen Necromantic residuals for Hearthy’s assignment.”
“So have I.”
He looks up again. This time his gaze is a little sharper. “Are you willing to change topics?”
You arch a brow. “Are you?”
There’s a pause.
“Fair,” he mutters, nodding at the seat opposite him. “Sit down, we can share it.”
You take the seat opposite him and set up, pulling out the half-written essay plan and getting to work. He slides the text to you ten minutes later.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
“What’s a good word for describing the way Caprine’s text vilified Necromancy in the academic community?”
Riddle doesn’t stop writing. “Inordinate.”
His eyes flick to yours. “Slanderous,” he suggests.
“Stronger than that – the man ruined all chance of reputable research in the field for two centuries, after all.”
Riddle’s lips curl slightly at the corners. “Scurrilous.”
You smile. “Perfect,” you say quietly, writing it in.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
You sit down opposite him and pull out your things, still breathing a little heavily from running up the stairs from Herbology. “What’s up?” you frown as you unscrew your inkwell – Riddle’s brow is creased in some tense concentration and his jaw is set a little too tightly.
“Nothing,” he says quietly.
You’re sceptical, but you’re hardly close enough friend to push him for more. Wondering what else you might do, you glance down at your bag and an idea (admittedly a slightly ridiculous one) occurs to you. “Here,” you say, reaching down to pull out a sprig of blue lavender you’d pilfered from the Greenhouses and placing it beside his book.
Riddle stares at it like it’s a stain. “What is that?” he demands corrosively, eyes flashing to yours.
“That’s a flower, Riddle.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “Yes, thank you, I’m aware it’s a flower,” he says icily, “I meant, what exactly is the purpose of giving this to me?”
You shrug and get stuck into your work. A few moments later, Riddle’s vitriolic gaze relents and he returns to his writing, rather ironically seeming more tense than before.
“It’s a flower, Riddle, not a bloody wedding ring,” you say humorously. “I’m just trying to cheer you up.”
“I don’t need you to cheer me up,” he says woodenly, crossing out a mistake on his page with a single, sharp motion.
You roll your eyes.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
When you sit down next, you place the little sprig of wood sorrel down beside him without saying a word. He shoots you a look, but neglects to protest.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
It’s a buttercup the day after. Herb Robert after that. Marsh Marigold on the Monday, Stammerwort at the end of the week. He always stays later than you so you have no idea what he does with them after you leave – in your presence he ignores them completely, though he’s stopped glaring at you when you set them down.
You think that might be progress.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
Snow falls outside the tall, leaded windows of the library as you throw your essay down on the desk in front of him, the O at the top of the page in red ink clearly visible. “Hearthy said my discussion was eloquent and meticulously organised,” you say, amused. “No doubt thanks to that final reshuffle you recommended.”
“It was a good essay,” Riddle says smoothly, looking up from whatever new assignment he’s already working on. “I assume you’re happy with the result.”
“I am,” you smile, placing the golden aster beside his inkwell. “Thanks for your help.”
Riddle looks at the flower, blank-faced.
You pick up your essay and turn to leave. “See you later.”
It’s only once you get back to your dorm that you realise you forgot to tell him that you’re about to head home for Christmas.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
Tom could never decide if he likes Christmas or not. On the one hand the constant, inexorable fanfare grew tiresome very quickly and people were always driveling on about their plans and presents and other trite affairs. On the other, the two week window when everyone was finally gone for the break left Hogwarts mostly deserted, the corridors calm and quiet, the library near abandoned, the Great Hall subdued and palatable like it never was with the loud chatter and bothersome clamour of the term.
Hogwarts was his for two weeks. His to explore uninterrupted, his to wander freely, and he takes full advantage of it for nearly the entirely of the first half of the holidays until Christmas Eve arrives and he resigns himself to the library to fell the considerable pile of work they’d been assigned.
He sits down at his regular desk where his books for the Transfiguration assignment Dumbledore had given them still remain in neat piles and extracts his things from his bag; his parchment first, his quill next, placed dead straight next to his page, settling his inkwell in its slot and carefully uncapping it, resting the lid on the desk to its right.
Tom hesitates. He frowns at his things on the desk before him.
Something is missing. He knows it.
But nothing is missing, everything is exactly where it should be as it always is, and yet as he reaches for the Polliwog text on the top of his pile, the thought refuses to fully leave him alone, sitting stubbornly in his head like a stone in a shoe, distracting and irksome.
It’s only once his eyes fall on the empty seat opposite him that he realises exactly whose absence he’s inadvertently been discerning.
Tom glowers at the seat, unable to decide exactly at whom he’s more annoyed – you for having inflicted your presence on him long enough for its absence to be noticeable, or himself for having accidentally noticed it in the first place.
It was utterly inane, of course, continuing to keep your company during his study sessions, talking to you beyond what was strictly required, and especially those ridiculous, silly little flowers you kept bringing him, the unnecessary chore it gave him having to figure out what to do with them all. Really he should ask you to stop, all things considered, it was frivolous and without purpose, puerile, vapid –
Tom’s building scowl dissolves when he opens the Polliwog text.
Sitting on the table of contents is the delicate form of a pink and white Arctic Rock Laurel, a little purple Hellebore, Polyanthus of every colour, all dried and pressed flat, slipped between the cover and that first page of his book and left there.
Waiting for him.
Tom’s jaw tenses.
He reaches for his bag again, extracts his diary, and carefully moves the flowers to the pages at the back to join all the others, closing it and sliding it back into his bag and out of sight.
The empty seat looms opposite him and Tom can’t decide if he likes Christmas or not because on the one hand, everyone leaves and he’s left alone.
On the other. Everyone leaves. And he’s left alone.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
Reply/message me to get added to my tag list! 💖
699 notes · View notes
SWEATER VEST | SPENCER REID
SUMMARY: After spending the night together, Spencer wakes up to you wearing something of his, and he can’t help but fall in love with you even more.
PAIRING: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: SMUT, MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), hand job, vaginal sex, softDom!Spencer, riding, fluff, mentions of food!
WORD COUNT: 4.3 k
A/N: We're slowly getting through all my Spencer Reid smuts, one more tomorrow night and then it'll be on to Hotch pieces! Once again, this is a cross-post, so don't be confused if you've read this post before!
PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE NSFW SPENCER REID FICS!
Last night, Spencer Reid had a girl in his bed. A girl that was beautiful, soft, angelic and all-round too good for him and his awkward tendencies. He didn’t think it would become anything more than just sex, an act of intimacy that as soon as it’s over means nothing to you but everything to him.
But when he woke to the smell of coffee and something else that was sweet and intoxicating, he knew that this was something different than he’d ever imagined. The bed was empty beside him, sheets still warm and your scent still lingering on his pillow as he sat up and hung his legs over the side, eyes roaming the room for any sign of you. He knew you hadn’t left, which caused a bubble of relief to rise up in him, catching a glance of your clothes still placed in a pile on the floor, and when he stood and stretched before pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he smiled at the thought of you actually being here, in his apartment for him to wake up to. It wasn’t a thought that crossed his mind regularly.
Spencer didn’t often have one-night stands, but when he did they were unattached and both he and the other person knew that nothing was to come of it. He was fine with that, just wanted comfort and touch at the moment until the loneliness faded and he wanted space again, and he was never hurt or disappointed when they left afterwards, no number and no address given. That was how he liked it. Until you stepped into his life and he knew he needed more, wanted more, and couldn’t exist without you in his life.
He stepped out of his bedroom, bare feet padding across the hardwood floors as he caught a glimpse of you in his kitchen, sunlight flitting in through the open window and casting a golden glow across your soft skin. Soft skin he memorised the taste of with his tongue the night before, fingers dancing at your sides as you fell into his embrace. As he stepped closer, he could see the small bruises that littered your thighs where he held you tight, the pretty little marks on your neck that he’d made with his mouth, and how your hair was still in tangles from when he ran his hands through it, pulled it gently to bring you closer to him.
And then he saw what you were wearing, and he was surprised his knees didn’t give out as soon as he got a full look at you. The breath knocked out of his lungs and heart pounding in his chest, he watched you, eyes wide and cheeks flushed red at the sight of you. Because though he didn’t expect you to walk around his apartment totally naked the next morning, knowing it was way too cold for that during December, he didn’t expect you to find one of his treasured sweater vests.
It was dark blue, and due to its size, it hung around the middle of your thighs, swallowing your frame up but still giving him a peek at the body he adored. The V-neck collar fell down your front, showing off your chest and the arches of your breasts, and when you turned to look at him, standing there in the middle of the living space, the grin you gave him sealed the whole insane hard to wrap his head around deal. He had a woman standing in his kitchen, in his clothes and covered in evidence of his affection, and you seemed to like the way he was gaping at you.
“Morning Spencer.” You moved towards him, taking his hand slowly as not to frighten the poor man who was still frozen in the room, but when you gently placed your other hand on his cheek, his gaze snapped to focus on you, eyes filled with adoration, fierce want, and something you couldn’t place, a feeling he knew started with the letter ‘L’.
“Mm, good morning beautiful. I see you found something to wear.” He fingered the neck of the sweater vest, material soft against your skin and his fingertips, and he admired the way the dark blue colour looked so good against your skin.
“I needed something more comfortable than my work suit. And it’s not like you were using it.” You ducked your gaze down to watch his fingers linger over your chest, Spencer dying to touch you once again like he did last night, but you quickly looked up again as he let out a deep breath. “I uh, made us coffee and found some pastries in your cupboard. I hope it’s not too forward; I didn’t know if you wanted me to leave or-.” He shook his head, arm swooping down to pull you gently against his frame as he looked down at you after glancing at the kitchen bench which was littered with breakfast items.
“No, god, no please don’t go. I don’t want you to go, Y/N.” The words came out in a jumble, quicker than he anticipated and he thought that you nearly hadn’t understood him. But then you were smiling up at him, shifting your weight so that you were pressed into him even more, chests touching and his frame towering over you. “Trust me, waking up to find you here and not out my door is probably the best thing that’s happened this week to me.” You giggle at this statement, lifting a hand to run it through his curls before resting it on the nape of his neck, a shiver running down his spine at the contact.
“And not the seemingly mind-blowing sex we had last night, all around your apartment?” He blushed a deep red at your teasing question, memories of the night before flooding into his mind as you moved in to press a kiss to his exposed shoulder and collar bone.
“Okay, good point. This is a very close second then. Right after the sex we had last night.” He kissed you then, soft, and sweet as his lips touched yours and his hands moved to grasp you by the waist. You had been waiting for him to kiss you ever since he walked into the room, and now as he was doing it, you realised you didn’t ever want it to end. You felt loved, wanted, and even felt like you belonged in his arms, like this was meant to become the new normal; two lovers sharing soft and lazy kisses in the middle of your kitchen.
Slowly the kiss became hungrier, filled with need and a desire to feel the other closer, especially when Spencer tangled his hand in your hair, and you let your hands smooth over his chest. His tongue was tracing the shape of your lips, pressing gently against the seam until you opened your mouth to let him in, pulling a sigh from Spencer and urging him on. Unlike the night before, the two of you didn’t make any sudden moves to rip each other’s clothes off, nor did you act as if you didn’t have all the time in the world. Because this morning you did, it was the weekend after all, and by the way that Spencer pulled away slightly to look at you before gently attaching his lips to your neck, you knew that the both of you wanted to take your time with this.
He was moving your body slowly, a hand at the small of your back guiding you gently back towards his bedroom, and though you loved the feel of his hands on you, lips against your neck and his hair tickling your cheek, you had a sudden urge to pull away.
“Wait! Spencer, the coffee and food are going to get cold, baby.” Spencer’s face of confusion was quickly replaced by laughter, deep and happy and a sound you wish you could record and play on repeat. He shook his head at your expression and then ducked down again to litter kisses over your face as he spoke against your skin.
“Sweetheart, right now the last thing on my mind is the coffee and food.” You let a small smile escape as he pulled you back into him, touch still gentle and sweet.
“Oh yeah, what’s on your mind instead, pretty boy?” He whined at the nickname, head falling to rest in the crook of your neck as his grip on your waist tightened, and he had to take a breath to keep himself in check. He wanted to take his time with you.
“Well, the first thing on my mind, is that you look so incredibly hot wearing my sweater vest.” You sucked in a breath when you felt one of his hands slowly glide over your chest, raising goosebumps and leaving a trail of warmth. “Second, is that I want to take my time with you this morning, more time than I had last night. And I want to make you feel good, good enough that you’ll hopefully want to stay in my arms forever.” For a moment he hadn’t realised what he had said, your look of shock bewildering him as you blinked, mouth wide open and hands on his shoulders. “Wait I-, fuck, I didn’t mean to sound so, I don’t know, so forward.” He watched your face as a hint of fear crept into his veins as he just waited for you to say something. Spencer didn’t like waiting, you knew that, but when he had spoken those words, your whole world froze as a wave of happiness descended upon you.
“Sp- Spencer Reid, are you trying to say that you might love me?” Your words came out unsure, but there was a deep sound of hope behind them as you looked right back at him, hand pressing against his cheek to focus all his attention on you. And it wasn’t like that was hard for him, because from this moment, hell, even from last night when he finally kissed you, he knew you had become his whole world and nothing could pull his focus away from the most precious thing connected to him. But then he realised you were still waiting on an answer to his question, and he took a deep breath before nodding eagerly.
“Y/N, I’ve literally been in love with you since I met you. I just…just never knew what to say or how to show you and I know that it might come as a surprise to you, and I really hope this doesn’t ruin whatever we have going on because I want this. And I’m head over heels in love with you, Y/N. Everyone on the team knows, and, I don’t know, I guess I hope that you like me back but if you don’t then that’s fine because I totally understand why and-.” You cut him off then, pressing your hand over his mouth as you hushed him gently.
“Woah, woah, Spencer, baby. I know you love me, and I also like what we have going on. And do you want to know why, pretty boy?” He swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes widened when your hand made its way into his curls again, nails scratching delicately against his scalp. “I love you too, Dr Spencer Reid, more than you can ever imagine. I’ve loved you for months, and I kid you not, last night was the best night of my life, Spence. Now, can we go back to kissing or are you just going to stand there like the cat got your tongue? Because if that’s your plan I might as well go make us some fresh coffee and-.”
“NO!” Spencer cut your teasing off in a quick flurry of limbs arms coming down to hoist you up to his waist by the back of your thighs until the two of you were as close as could be. He had you squealing then as he planted sloppy kisses at the curve of your neck, whispering “I love you” into your skin as he carried you to his bedroom, gently depositing you on the bed before joining you. You met in a heated kiss again, lips pressing against one another as he hovered above you, a hand winding in his hair. Already, after hearing you confess your love for him and the kisses in the kitchen mixed with the way you were touching him and looking in the sweater vest, he could feel himself getting hard, sweatpants becoming uncomfortable when you suddenly rutted up against him, wanting more than what he was giving you.
“Please, baby, let me take care of you?” Spencer looked at you with eyes full of desperation, and all you could do was moan against his lips in response, nodding your head and urging him to do whatever he wanted.
“God yes, please Spence.” Grinning above you, his mouth came down to suck against the skin of your chest that he could reach through the collar of the sweater vest, hands running up from your thighs and feeling around your waist and stomach, hands leaving a trail of fire against your skin as you arched up to his touch. You went to lift the hem of the sweater up, but Spencer battered your hands away, giving you a shy smile as he looked at you with eyes devoured by lust.
“Don’t take it off, you look so fucking good in it.” You nodded, letting go of the clothing as Spencer moved his body down, pressing kisses in his wake and then he was there, shifting the sweater up a bit to take a glimpse at what he longed to touch, the area that was already soaking wet for him and rutting up against the air. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you right on your folds, lips coating themselves in your juices as you moaned above him, a hand moving down to tug at his hair, bring him closer to where you needed him the most.
You could feel him grinning against you before his tongue was dipping into gently, sweeping up your juices and sucking gently on your clit, making you shiver as his fingers dug into your thighs, sending shots of sweet pain up your spine, and when he moaned against you when you tugged roughly at his hair in desperation, you shrieked, the impending orgasm rising upon you.
“Spencer, fuck, baby, so good, Spence, so fucking good, love.” His cheeks still heated at the praise, even though you were literally lying underneath him naked and about to come apart on his mouth, your words of love and affection still overwhelming him and making him feel like this was all a dream. He dug down deeper then, putting all his effort into making you feel good, his index finger sinking into you then, and as he thrust it in and out at you at a fast pace, you whined above him, head falling back onto the pillow as you gripped the headboard to ground yourself.
“That’s it, baby, you’re so close aren’t you, sweet thing?” You nodded frantically as he pulled himself away from your core, kissing over your thighs and adding a finger into you, thrusting, and curling his fingers in a rhythm that was bound to make you go mad with pleasure. You were whining, wanting some sort of relief and praying that Spencer would get you over that edge. And he did exactly that when he sat upon his haunches and lowered his mouth back down to you, sucking around you and then with a final curl of his fingers, pushing you over the edge and sending you tumbling into an abyss of pleasure.
You cried out at the intensity, loud and needy as he helped you through your high, watching as your eyes clenched tight and your hand searched for his hand. He grasped it quickly, moving his mouth away from you when you became too sensitive and wiped it with the back of his hand, lips glistening and still covered in your juices when he leaned in to kiss you.
“There we go, pretty girl, so good for me.” He’d come back up to be eye level with you, hand running over your cheek to calm your breaths and ground you back in the moment, smiling at you as you opened your eyes once again.
“Fuck, Spencer, that might have been better than last night.” Your voice was raw from moaning, and he chuckled at your statement before fluttering kisses over any part of you he could reach, loving how you kept reaching to hold him close.
But he also couldn’t ignore how hard he was, and when he shifted himself to try and gain more friction, you glanced down at his groin, taking notice of the wet patch at the front of his grey sweatpants. Leaning up, you looked at him to gain consent to pull his pants down, and when he nodded back, he was there helping you pull them down his toned legs, leaving him bare to you and cock spring up.
Your hand went straight for him, wrapping around his cock and slowly stroking, keeping a loose grip on the man because you could already tell he was close to cumming without even being touched, and when you did touch him, he threw his head back and groaned, gritting his teeth from the sensation of your smooth palm running over his veins and spreading the precum that leaked from the tip.
“Shit, sweetheart if you keep doing that I won’t last long, and I really just want to be inside you.” You let go of him, moving your hands back to his chest as he sucked in a breath, kissing your neck again.
“How do you want me, Spencer?” He nearly came right then, you looking up at him with eyes that were wide with love and lust, skin sweaty and your left breast exposed from the sweater sagging down. He hummed back at you, already knowing what he wanted to do.
“I want you to ride me, baby. You think you can do that for me? Is that okay with you?” You nodded eagerly, desperate to already feel him inside you, and then he was moving so his back was against the headboard of the bed, legs extended out against the sheets. You waited until he was ready, giggling as his hands gripped you and lifted you to straddle him, slick folds hovering over hard cock. His hands then slide up and under the sweater to glide over your back, hips, ass and breasts as you slowly sink down on him, eliciting a sharp moan from yourself and a relieved sigh from Spencer, whose head is thrown back and curls sticking to his skin with sweat.
You started to lift yourself up and down then, creating a smooth rhythm that had him groaning into your neck and nipping at your skin, teeth marks mixed with purple bruising that wouldn’t fade fast. He had his hands up the sweater too, fondling your breasts and tweaking your nipples as your movements only went faster, the both of you chasing a release that was coming quickly.
“God, Spencer, you feel so good, so fucking good inside me, stretching me open.” He hummed at your words, sucking a particularly large love bite into your neck, and then grabbing your ass, moving his hips with yours to hit that spot right inside you.
“Such a good girl for me, Y/N, bouncing on my cock so well. Look at you, fuck, you look so beautiful.” You could only whimper at his words as he lifted his hips and thrust up particularly hard, earning a drawn-out moan that had him wanting more, and soon he was taking control, gripping your hips and letting you fall against him, arms wrapped around his neck and hands in his hair as you breathed near his ear. “So close, baby girl, you’re so close aren’t you? Are you going to cum on my cock like a good little thing? Doing such a good job for me pretty girl.” He couldn’t stop himself from talking, needed you to hear how much he loved you, how beautiful he thought you looked. Honestly, he just wanted to shower you in praise, and you were too blissed out to care. Nails scratching at his chest and your release about to cascade over you, you knew he was close too because Spencer’s thrusts were growing sloppy and his hips were struggling to keep up their rhythm until suddenly you were falling falling falling and cumming.
His mouth dropped open in awe as he watched your juices escape and drip down your legs, your head was thrown into the crook of his shoulder as you whimper into his skin, so tired and fucked out that you can hardly move, thighs aching and chest burning from your heavy breathing. But Spencer can see all this, and after thrusting up one more time and cumming into you, he’s pressing kisses to your face and running his hand over your back, calming, loving and grounding.
The both of you come down from your highs together, wrapped in the warmth of your shared embrace and heat of the room, now smelling like sweet pastries, coffee and sex, a scent that neither of you minded. For a moment Spencer didn’t want to let you go, didn’t want this perfect moment to end, but then you were fidgeting above him, growing cold from the juices on your legs and the sweater vest not providing much warmth on a December morning.
Slipping out from you gently, causing you to whine and moan at the way he left you empty, he only hushed you, kissing the side of your head softly, watching as your eyelids fluttered and your hand reached for his, wanting something to hold on to. He took it in his, kissing your knuckles as you smiled at him, lazy and blissful, and he knew this was heaven.
“You know, I thought nothing could beat last night, but I think I’ve been proven wrong.” Words soft and not wanting to break the peace of the room, Spencer moved a piece of hair back behind your ear as you hummed against his chest.
“I think you’re right; this definitely takes the cake over last night. Although, I think we’ve both forgotten it’s December and you don’t have the heating on…”
“Is that you saying you’re cold? Hang on, I’ll be back in a minute or two.” Spencer pulled himself out from under you reluctantly, letting you rest against the headboard while he stood up and pulled on a fresh pair of briefs, an old sweater and sweatpants, then padding into the bathroom. He came back with a warm washcloth, some water, and an old overly large hoodie of his and some sleep pants that he kept in the back of his draws for emergencies. “And uh…you should probably use the toilet.” You didn’t have to be told twice, standing up on shaky legs to pass him and walk into the bathroom, emerging a couple minutes after with a flush of the toilet.
Passing you the glass of water, he watched you drink it down as he wiped the cloth over your legs, soaking up the juices and making sure that you were clean, before helping you into a fresh pair of boxers that were too small for him, the sleep pants and then finally taking off the sweater vest, smiling at you softly when he saw your bare torso. He didn’t go in to touch, even though he knew you wouldn’t have stopped him; he just wanted to get you warm and comfortable enough to spend the rest of the day lazing around with him. And after tossing the sweater vest to the side and tugging the hoodie over your head, he finally let himself go back to you, holding you against him and listening to your heartbeat slow to a steady relaxed rhythm and gently running his fingertips over your wrist, the only skin that was available to him.
The two of you stayed there, in a moment of simplistic and exquisite happiness that did not need to be occupied by speech or distractions. Both burrowed underneath the covers and relishing in the embrace of the other, Spencer knew that you weren’t going to be awake for much longer and neither was he.
“You know…everything I said back in the kitchen, about falling in love with you and wanting to be loved by you, you know that was all true right? It wasn’t just something I said to get you into bed with me.” You were half asleep when he spoke, but you still smiled sleepily and rested your head on his chest.
“I know, Spencer. I know you love me, and I need you to know I love you too. You believe me, pretty boy?” He lifted your hand, kissing it gently as you tried to stay awake.
“I believe you, sweet thing, now sleep. God knows we need it after everything we just did.”
Spencer was a man of words, a man of touch and feel and eyes that sought out curious things. He was a man who longed for another to love him unconditionally, to hold him and to let him take care of them when he just wanted to show them how much they meant to him. He needed to feel a person, to hear their voice and see their face, and with you, it became so simple, so utterly perfect that he nearly couldn’t remember a time when he had you.
But now, here you were, in his bed and over the moon in love with him, something that he wasn’t ever going to take for granted any time soon. That to him was love, that to him was everything he needed.
PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE SPENCER REID NSFW FICS!
MESSAGE OR COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO THE SPENCER REID NSFW TAGLIST, 18 + ONLY
TAGGING: @morcias @altsvu @wasteland-bvby @tobias-hankel @reidsconverse @reidology @reidemandweep @moderatelydelusional @madswonders @cacoetheswriting @dralexreid @b-a-utiful @peachpitfics @mercy-burning @lumosemily @spareau @spencers-renaissance @spencersawkward @spencerreid9 @spenxerslut @averyhotchner @makaylajadewrites @reidingmelodies @mikewizkalifa @bvttercupbby @thank-the-lord @reid-to-me @spencersmagic @spookydrreid @laurakirsten0502
565 notes · View notes
✨ o h ✨
761 notes · View notes
Glass and Silk
Pairing: Janitor!Levi x CEO!Reader
Word Count: 2,481
Content: Mutual pining, mild nsfw vibes but no smut (yet), mild fluff
Content Warning: Language, smoking, panty-shot but not quite?
Summary: There’s a new CEO for the company that Levi happens to clean toilets and sweep floors for. Out of all the people in the world, she’s the last person he expects to form a close bond with, and yet...
Notes: I’m very sorry that there isn’t any explicit smut in this chapter but there will be in later ones. I decided to make this chapter a bit shorter as a test. I always see depictions of Levi being the domineering CEO and god do I eat that shit up but I thought it would be fun to imagine the roles being switched (and also janitor Levi is hoooot). Also I don’t know shit about what a CEO does so don’t come at me. I did some mild research but that’s it. Thank you so much if you read/interact~
Tags: @faevi (anyone feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters~)
Levi listened absently as the group of well-dressed workers stood around the water cooler chatting.
“I’ve heard that if things keep getting worse around here, they might start to lay some of us off.”
“Hell, I sure hope not. Maybe the new CEO will save us.”
Levi was making his rounds on the many floors of the high-rise that the company he worked in took up. He didn’t really talk much to others, but overhearing their conversations gave him an idea of what was going on around the office. Although to be honest, it didn’t really affect him much. Levi happened to work for an entirely different company outside of the one in this building. A company that would assign their employees locations to work from and this building just happened to be the one he was assigned to.
With a few sprays to the clean cloth he held in his gloved hand, he started to wipe the glass panel on the door of the nearest office. He’d only seen the new CEO once or twice. She was young, much younger than the guy before her. Levi wondered to himself if it was her drive that brought her here or if she simply had the right connections. Though, by the way others talked of the drastic decline the company was taking, it may just have been bad luck. From the sound of it she had a mess on her hands if she was expected to clean the company up from whatever downfall it was experiencing which garnered such a buzz around the office. But then again, it wasn’t really any of his concern.
Why should Levi have any concern with the direction the company would be taking in the coming months? After all, people like the ones at the water cooler, and especially people like a bigtime CEO, had absolutely no concern for him. If the company went under he would simply be assigned a new location to wipe the windows and clean the toilets of those that were impartial to his existence at best and downright disrespectful towards him at worst.
These were the thoughts that passed through Levi’s head as he reached up to wipe the large windows that encased the new CEO’s office. The windows had blinds on the inside, but they were left open more often than not. At least they had been ever since the new CEO took over. She seemed much more lax about the other workers’ ability to look over and see what she was up to, when she was present at all. From what Levi had noticed the only time she seemed to pull the blinds shut was when she was out of office, which was fine by him. It let him know when he could enter and clean the area without being barked at for being in the way, which was something he had never gotten used to with the previous CEO. The asshole must have loved wallowing in filth, because he was always there preventing Levi from doing his job.
Right now she was sitting at her desk, pen pressed against her lower lip as she sat deep in thought. The white-blue glow of the computer screen reflected in her eyes as she stared at it distantly, focusing on some image or information that displayed across her mind rather than the screen. Levi hadn’t realized he’d been gazing at her through the window as he wiped the clear glass, and his heart nearly jumped into his throat when her eyes shot up suddenly and met his. Then, she smiled at him. It was a warm and friendly smile, rather than the courteous half-smiles he was used to while he worked around the people at their desks or in the halls. Fingers splayed out over the pen in her hand to form a small wave in his direction before she turned her focus back to the work in front of her. She was busy and her eyes looked tired, but the first word that came to Levi’s mind in that instant was ‘pretty’.
Levi glanced over his shoulder subtly. No, she had definitely waved at him. It was a small gesture but one he wasn’t used to. After all, it was commonplace for the existence of janitors in these upscale office buildings to be dismissed and taken for granted. Then later, as she was marching across the hall he was busy mopping, she would smile and wave at him again as she passed by with the sound of her heels clicking and paper rustling from her clipboard. Levi waved back this time. He could see her up close now. Her hair was frizzy and there were shadowy bags under her eyes, but her smile was still pretty. She was still pretty. However, as Levi glanced from the wet floor sign to her heels marching across the slick tile, he couldn’t help but think that it didn’t matter how pretty she was or how much power she had, she’d still look like an idiot if she fell on her ass.
“Oi! Can’t you read the sign?” Levi muttered as she whisked past him.
It was clear she hadn’t really been paying attention, and just as she spun around to the sound of his voice her foot slipped out from underneath her. She let out an audible “oof” just as her butt hit the floor, papers flying up in a whirlwind around her head. Levi did everything but slam his palm against his forehead. Though his expression was one of pure annoyance he had to bite back a chuckle. Was it just customary for wealthy bigshots to be so dense? Resting his mop against his cart, he reached down to help her up. Although, she seemed more preoccupied with locating a particular spreadsheet that had fallen somewhere.
Then without warning, Levi found himself having to look away as he noticed the band of black lace hugging her thigh. The tops of her stockings had been made visible as her skirt bunched up from the fall. Just an inch higher and he’d know what color underwear she was wearing. Great. That was really something he wouldn’t be able to get out of his head, and the heat washing over his entire body left him frustrated and a little ashamed of himself. What the hell was he doing lusting after the CEO of a big time company who felt leagues above him?
“Here,” he said with annoyance, holding his hand out further in front of her face, “I’ll help you with your papers but get up off the floor before I end up having to mop it again.”
Looking rather embarrassed, she allowed him to help her up.
“Shit. Sorry. I swear I’m not always this clumsy. I’m late for a zoom call. I just need that spreadsheet...”
There was paper everywhere, Levi had no clue why she was so focused on a particular one. He started picking up papers one by one while she scrambled to do the same all while glancing haphazardly at the front and back of each sheet, but not before noticing her wardrobe malfunction and pushing the fabric of her skirt back towards her knees frantically. Levi handed her the final few sheets he had gathered.
“Oh, thank god,” she said, holding them up, “Or thank you, rather. I’m sorry about the floor. I’ll pay you back for it later!”
She was already hurrying off. Levi couldn’t help but think this company was doomed if she was the one taking over. Still, her rushed apology sounded rather sincere. Really, he was altogether surprised by her reaction. For a moment he feared he might be on his way to getting fired if she had talked back to him after having slipped and fallen right next to the damn wet floor sign. She was much different than the CEO before her anyway. Hell, maybe she was exactly what the company needed. But what did he know, he was just the janitor.
Today was shit. This whole week was shit. You were drowning in paperwork and demands. Company stocks were failing, consumers and clients were unhappy, and every bit of it now fell on your shoulders. Everyone from office clerks to the COO were looking to you to fix the state of things. Secretly, you had kicked yourself in the ass for accepting this position. Everyone at the Board of Directors saw you as a natural replacement when the last CEO had suddenly stepped down. You had been fine with the position you were in. The money was already good but there was something in you that just couldn’t say no when so many people had so much faith in you. Especially people so desperate for proper leadership, leadership that they kept insisting only you could provide. And, to top it all off, you were fairly certain you had flashed that handsome dark-haired janitor after falling and slipping on the floor he was trying to clean. Fucking shit.
So here you were, late into the night, outside the tall high-rise building where an arch of glass and concrete covered the small stone platform you stood on. Most of the staff had already gone home. After staring agonizingly at numbers for hours and arguing with the same people on the phone over and over again with what was an extremely limited amount of sleep, you had finally reached your tipping point. You exhaled abruptly, pulling the cigarette from your lips as a cloud of smoke whisked up into the air. Then, whilst shouting a string of expletives, you kicked the small chrome trash can beside you without noticing that someone had opened the glass doors you were standing in front of.
“Oi! What do you think you’re doing? I don’t go around kicking over your photocopiers and paperweights.”
Your head sprung up to the familiar voice. That voice that was smooth as honey and as stinging as a bee. Of course it was no other than the well-built janitor that had watched you fall on your ass earlier. Well, not only had he seen you fall on your ass, but he’d more than likely seen your ass considering your skirt had ridden up high enough for the whole world to see. And now he was watching you, a fully grown woman in charge of a well known and prestigious company, throw a tantrum.
Still, there was something about him. And you rather liked the way he didn’t suck up to you or talk down to you like other men seemed to do your entire career, your entire life really. To him, it didn’t seem to matter if you were the company’s CEO or an urchin off the street, he took his job seriously and would speak to you just the same.
“Right, I’m sorry.” You replied sheepishly, kneeling down to pick up the small can and turn it upright, “Guess I’ve been making your job a lot harder all day haven’t I?”
You watched him pull a cloth from the front pocket of his blue button-down shirt before kneeling to wipe the scuff mark left on the chrome from your shoe, “Well the work isn’t hard if you enjoy what you do,” dark grey eyes glanced up in your direction, “Or if someone isn’t fucking up your work all day.”
He stood then, tucking the cloth back into his pocket, ”Hey, are you doing alright? You seem awfully young to have so much stress on your shoulders.” With his voice it almost came off as sarcasm, but you could tell he was being sincere by the change in his tone.
You couldn’t help but glance away from his piercing gaze, embarrassed by your behavior. However, you simply waved off his following remark.
“Thanks, but I’m holding up fine. The last CEO left a big mess to clean sure, but everyone seems to think I’m the one qualified to do it,” you replied, taking another puff of your cigarette and staring off into the blur of lights flashing along the street and into the lively city night.
“Do you agree with them?”
His question makes you think, but you’re quick to brush it off. After all, you were brought up to never show any weaknesses. It’s what allowed you to be so successful in a world that seemed to be against you at every turn. You had worked hard and taken yourself seriously to reach the top. Even if at times you felt like you had faked it the whole way through, no one else needed to know that, regardless of who they were.
“You know I never got your name. May I ask what it is?” You reply, deflecting from his question.
Just Levi. It suits him. You give him your own as a courtesy.
“I know,” he replies, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, “You’re the main topic of discussion around here. People can’t seem to decide if you’re the boogeyman or the messiah.”
You chuckle, “They’re all just uneasy, which is understandable. What do you think I am?”
Levi cocks an eyebrow. “Why does it matter what I think?”
“By that logic why does it matter what anyone thinks? I just asked because I’m curious.”
The truth is, he thought you were clumsy, high-strung, and a bit of a hot head. He also happened to think you were remarkably beautiful.
“I think you’re just here to do the best you can. Obviously you care about this company, or you would’ve told them to go fuck themselves instead of trying to save it on your own.”
You smile, appreciating his well thought out response. It was refreshing to talk to someone who just spoke to you normally. It almost felt like having a friend that wasn’t just schmoozing up to you because of your position.
“Well thanks, Levi. You know, I still owe you for messing up your work earlier.” Heat rose to your cheeks, partly at making such a proposition to this handsome man but mostly at the notion that bringing that up might also bring up memories of your skirt hiked up your legs and your derriere clad in black silk panties. “Tomorrow is Friday, right? Why don’t I buy you a drink after work?”
He seems somehow hesitant but you swear he’s blushing. Or maybe it’s just the humidity, because he doesn’t even look at you when he agrees. The two of you talk for a while before Levi walks off in the direction of the car park. Turns out he had already been off the clock. You knew you probably should get home and rest, but instead you ready yourself for a few more hours of work. Sighing softly, you snuff out your cigarette and head back inside, finally with something pleasant to look forward to.
303 notes · View notes
Another silly idea I couldn’t get out of my head.
♥ Please do not repost. If you like it and want to show people, share a link to this page instead. Thank you!
506 notes · View notes
Ryan is my best friend
Yeah we’re fine... we’re great
663 notes · View notes
After the breakup in s15, both Dean and Cas spend far too much time checking their phones, waiting for the other to call; both of them with their hearts in their throats and lungs squeezing tightly with unspoken feelings. Sam pretends he doesn't notice the way Dean's almost glued to his phone; the way a spark of hope lights up in his eyes when it rings, only for that look to utterly shatter every time it's not Cas' name flashing across the display. Or how Dean's fingers seem to linger on a picture of him and Cas in his wallet; a private moment captured between the two of them that's now carefully placed, never too far from Dean's almost longing gaze. And Cas... Cas finds himself ghosting his fingers over the screen of his phone, constantly hovering over Dean's contact. There's almost a tender touch as his finger grazes over Dean's name, yearning to reach out to Dean but not wanting to be the one to breech the distance between them. Sometimes he clicks an old voicemail from Dean, simple and mundane; "Cas, if you're on your way home to the bunker, grab some milk from the store and I'll whip us up some late night pancakes. See you soon, yeah?" It's enough to make Cas' heart ache with how much he misses Dean.
764 notes · View notes
I Love You
Summary: The five times you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him and the one time you did.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of injuries. Not a single curse word, are you proud of me Steve? 😏
Author’s Notes: I’ve had this thing *waves hand at the summary* on my mind the whole heckin’ day and my mind screamed at me to write it. I made this little divider thing, it’s so cute I love it and I’m proud of myself.
My permanent taglist is open, please let me know if I’ve missed you or if you want to join!
Telling someone you loved them was no easy task, especially if the person you wanted to tell was just a friend. How do you tell someone who is your friend that you want to spend the rest of your life with them and that you love them more than life itself?
Well, the first time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was when he got back to the compound after a brutal mission that ended up going south and some of his ribs were broken from the fight. You were scared that you would lose him, and you didn’t want to waste time by not telling him of your true feelings.
You gnawed on your lip nervously as you watched him stagger through the hallway with his bionic arm around Steve and his right arm pressing on a bloody wound that seeped through his fingers. Blood dripped down the side of his face and even from the distance you could see he had blood in his hair and dirt under his nails. He looked a mess and the cold look in his eyes made you think twice about dropping a ‘I love you’ bombshell on him right now. Now wasn’t the time, now wasn’t the place.
You let it go for now, allowing Steve to take him to the medical bay to get patched up while you trudged slowly back to your room, hoping and praying Bucky was going to be alright. He was a strong super soldier, of course he was going to be.
The second time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was a couple of days after that mission. He was sitting at the dining table alone spooning a mouthful of Cap’n Crunch and reading the newspaper.
“Good mornin’ Buck! How are you?” You greeted him with a warm smile. He looked up from his paper and offered a tight lipped smile in return. His lip was cut from being punched by a hydra agent and he had some deep cuts and bruises over his face and body.
“Hey Y/N! Doing alright doll, injuries are finally healing. How are you?”
How were you, really? Is this the part where you tell him you haven’t slept so much because you’ve been so worried? Does that sound weird? Or is this the part where you tell him what’s on your heart?
“I’m… just a bit tired but doing okay.” You said instead after a few minutes of thinking about what to say. The truth is, you were absolutely terrified of rejection. With other guys, it wouldn’t have mattered so much but Bucky meant the world to you. If you ended up telling him you loved him and he didn’t feel the same way, then everything would be ruined and you know he isn’t the kind of guy that accepts apologies so easily and quickly. The last thing you wanted to do was make things awkward between the two of you.
“You sure? You seem like you have something on your mind there?” He stares back at you with his features softened. Bucky cared and he cared a lot.
You smiled and nodded your head. Only thing on my mind is you, Barnes. “I promise I’m okay, just tired.”
He nodded his head a few times before smiling back at you. “Take a seat.” He motioned to the chair opposite him, “let me get you some breakfast and coffee.”
Like I said, he cared a lot.
The third time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was during a trip to the beach with the avengers to take advantage of a free day for everyone and with the sun shining, the temperatures rising, it was just perfect. Tony suggested a relaxing day and this was definitely it. A few hours on the beach seemed to melt any worries and stress you had, and you found yourself smiling and laughing a lot more today.
Bucky was also in a very good mood, he had a constant smile on his face and he was even cracking jokes with Tony and Sam. He was shirtless, not caring if anyone saw his arm and he enjoyed swimming because the water was much cooler against the summer heat.
Bucky was laying next to you with his arms under his head and his ankles crossed over the other as you made sure every inch of his skin was covered in sunscreen. He looked so peaceful, so calm and the words almost spilled out. Almost. Until Tony decided to ruin the moment.
“Hey kid, if you’re done with the sunscreen, can you throw it back to me?” You threw it and Tony caught it easily. When you looked back at Bucky, he was grinning with his sunglasses up on his forehead.
“Thank you for taking such good care of me doll.”
“Of course! Sunburn is no joke, it’s painful because it feels like your body is on fire.”
“Well, good thing we got this huge umbrella over us.” You nodded in agreement and took in the breeze of the warm air as the heat made you feel sleepy.
The fourth time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him was after his Tinder date stood him up at the restaurant he worked hard to make a reservation for. He came back to the compound looking down and upset. You made him some herbal tea and listened to him without any interruptions.
“I just wish I could find somebody who would love me, ya know? Someone who would love me for who I am.” He sighed, keeping his eyes on the swirling tea.
I love you Buck, you wanted to say so badly. You wanted to let those three words out and break free from the chains.
“I absolutely do understand. You deserve someone who would give you the world.” Bucky looked deep in your eyes, and you felt scared he would see your real meaning behind it. Eyes gave a lot of answers away if you weren’t careful and he was trained to read people like a book. He always knew you were sick before you even became sick. And he knew if you were sad, happy or even anxious and he seemed to know the reasons why behind every emotion. He gulped and nodded, finishing the rest of his drink before bidding you a goodnight. For the first time in a long time, you felt worried and anxious. You felt as if he knew something.
Bucky did know something, he heard the crack in your voice and the way your eyes focused on him as you spoke, as though you were in a daydream. Your eyes gave him the biggest clue and he was thankful for that because he didn’t want to look like an idiot when he asked you out.
Little did you know, Bucky had feelings for you too. You were more than a friend to him and he daydreamed about the future and you were his future. A picket fence house, children, pets. A happy marriage and a happy family. Bucky had plans to ask you out, he just hoped he hadn’t looked at the whole situation wrong.
The sixth time you wanted to tell Bucky you loved him and succeeded was after your first date. He asked you out a few days after everything happened with his failed date. He took you to a quiet restaurant where you wouldn’t be disturbed by the public, you drank wine, listened to the violins in the background and ate dinner.
The flames from the candles illuminated your skin and Bucky became mesmerized by your soft glowing features. You were his dream come true and the moment those words came from your mouth, it had felt like the whole world was lifted off your shoulders.
“I love you too, doll. You’re it for me, I don’t want anyone else.” He smiled down at you, bumping your noses together adorably.
“I’m glad to see that, Barnes. I’m afraid to tell you you’re stuck with me.”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, doll. Till the end of the line.”
Permanent taglist [4/50]: @w-wolfhxrd @team-marvel13 @ripredwing @certainaesthetic
541 notes · View notes
am i more than you bargained for yet? - masterlist
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.
AN: send me an ask if you wanna be apart of the taglist for this series, permanent tag list will open back up feb 1st. this series should be updated every Saturday :)
Masterlist | Twitter Profiles
          [epilogue]
moodboard by @fangirlinsweden 🥰🥰
1K notes · View notes