your delicate little fingers

anonymous asked:

'baby just shut up and make out with me' ps u should do this with luke...

“But Luke, we still haven’t made the broccoli for tonight,” you pleaded with your boyfriend as you stood at the stove and stirred the pot of sauce for spaghetti.

“Mm,” he mumbled into your skin, dragging his lips across the soft skin of your shoulder, reflexively causing you to cock your head to the side and offer up more of your skin to him. “We’ve got time, baby,” Luke coaxed, his fingers pressing little delicate circles into your hips, “Dinner’s not till seven.”

“Yeah, but Luke,” you sighed, trying not to let his actions affect you. “It’s…” you glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, “… ten till five and I still have to shower and get ready–”

“Ssh, pumpkin,” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath causing a shiver to ripple down your spine. You could feel his smirk against your skin. “We don’t have to be there at the exact time.”

“Baaabe,” you whined. “It takes a half an hour to get to your parent’s house, which means we need to leave at 6:30.” He tried to interrupt you but you carried on. “No, Lu, we are not going to be late for dinner with your family because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

He gasped, “Y/N, you dare you think so lowly of me!”

You quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend after turning off the burner and facing him, leaning back on the stove while crossing your arms. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Luke mumbled, a dramatic frown gracing his lips. 

You raised your eyebrow higher in dissatisfaction. 

“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air before tugging your body against his. “You’re just so pretty,” he mumbled as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “And your ass is just…” He slithered his hands to your backside and gripped your cheeks firmly in his hands, “Ugh. And your tummy is freaking adorable,” he quipped as his palms gently traced over your stomach before resting on your chest. “And these,” he wiggled his eyebrows and grasped your boobs lightly in his hands, “These babies are fucking amazing.”

You scoffed but there was still an hint of a smile in your stern expression. “Seriously Luke, I don’t wanna look like a bum eating dinner with your parents. I need to go and take a shower.”

“First of all, my parents literally do not care. They’ve known you for like a year, I’m pretty sure they know by now you’re fucking gorgeous.” He squeezed your boobs again as you began to counter his argument, successfully shutting you up. “Second of all, how ‘bout we save water and shower together?”

“Seriously, Luke?” you groaned. “Not only was that was the lamest and most over used line ever, but we both know if we shower together that no actual showering will be done.”


And, we still haven’t made the broccoli,” you added, trying not to let Luke’s lips suddenly sucking at your neck distract you from firmly demanding your boyfriend give up his shenanigans. “So, you should… probably… let me go and–”

Baby,” Luke interrupted, raising his head from where it was positioned in the crook of your neck and rolling his eyes. “Just shut up and make out with me.

And well, if you were a little bit late to dinner, it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world (even if Jack poking your new hickey at the dinner table certainly felt like it was).




As you reached out for the bottle of wine, Dave smirked and reached out as well, but instead of grabbing the bottle, his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Y/N, I honestly think you’ve had enough.”

With a cross snort, you allowed your co-worker to back your hand away from the bottle. Your chest was getting that tight feeling again; it happened whenever Dave touched you, or even looked you. “I haven’t had that much…”

“You’re nearly spilling the wine you have in your glass.” He chuckled, reaching out with his other hand and carefully gripping the delicate wine glass in your fingers. You gasped a little when his fingers touched yours, but you were hoping he wouldn’t notice. Why did you think it was a good idea to get drunk with Dave? You could barely conceal your feelings while you were sober.

He lightly placed the glass on his coffee table, then looked back up you. But Dave’s expression changed from amused to mildly concerned. You were just staring at him with wide eyes, and you were biting your cheek. Obviously signs of anxiety. “Y/N, what’s wrong? I just didn’t want you to get sick in the morning…”

After a few tense moments, trying to organize the thoughts in your drunken head, you took a breath. “Do you think two co-workers, two really good friends, could be together without it getting in the way of the job?” Dave frowned and tilted his head, like he didn’t quite understand, so you sighed harshly and looked away. “Nevermind…”

“No, no, explain it to me.” Dave insisted, scooting closer. At this length, you could feel the heat coming off of his body, and could clearly smell the expensive cologne that you noticed he only puts on for special occasions, like going out with the team. It made your head swim.

And when you met Dave’s eyes once more, he was looking right back at you. Except he was reading you; the deep dilation of your eyes and the new blushed colour in your face. The way you wringed your hands together. So, being the risk-taker that David Rossi was known to be, he leaned forward and captured your lips in his. Needless to say, you were puzzled and shocked, but you were thankful that you were drunk, because it was easier to get lost in the kiss.

Requested by Anon~