#Feedback plz I crave attention

[maidenborn]

Detective Love-struck!

Shoto x reader in which Reader discovers a love letter in her locker, and recruits deku to help her. fem reader, maybe oc deku and shoto idk, reader has an older brother, first little fanfic thingy, I haven't written in god knows how long don't burn me at the stake plz

Word count: 1,707

When you were younger, stupider and shameless, you and your only friend Shoto, would play detective during your free time together. At the age of five, you and your comrade had already solved ONE case, the infamous 'who stole older brother's motorbike?!' case, which you and shoto apparently 'took credit for' or whatever that means. Despite how much you swore to your brother how you and Shoto knew where it was before the police. And how you tipped the cops off with your super secret telepathy quirk that no one but shoto knew about.

He responded with a, "well if you're so smart why don't you figure out where my old 3DS is?? by the way, you don't have telepathic powers, forehead." You'd clench your fist every time that cursed nickname left his lips, but anyways, you accepted his challenge, walking away cursing him with the most vulgar name you could think up, telepathically of course. you swear you heard his breath stifle in shock as you stomped off, coincidence? I think not.

Your winning streak of problem solving ended with anger at your rivals, the police down the road, when they refused to let you into the station after you relentlessly demanded that they let you see the files of fifty year-old unsolved homicide case. The next day you sulked to Shoto during lunch, who stared at you with that blank stare he always does."you tried to break in again?" An accusation?!?!?!? The tipping point.

You fake-angry threw your paper cut-out detective badge, that you and your best-friend made during arts and crafts, with all your strength, only for it to slowly flutter to the ground awkwardly. That day you announced your retirement from the force. Claiming all the hard thinking was giving you wrinkles, that only caused shoto to look more confused, tilting his head to the side. "Wrinkles?"

"On my forehead." You huffed.

Your interest for the antics of detectives on tv and corny live-action crime thrillers died off as your ambition and hope to become a real life pro hero ignited, as did your connection with Shoto, even if you started to see him less frequently as the years of your childhood passed by. It was a blessing that you managed to land a place in class 1-A alongside your companion. Your bond reinvigorated, grew stronger as you were reunited with the boy, the lingering figure of his father, Endeavour had dissipated, granting the boy a newfound freedom. You found yourself spending almost all your free time with him now, way more than you ever did when you were kids. And you were grateful for it. So very grateful.

Now, both you and him had matured, albeit not a lot since you were both fifteen, but in a fifteen year olds eyes, it was a lot. The boy's once chubby cheeks now had a more slim-chiseled appearence. His head of hair was the same length, perfectly split down the middle, not one stray hair misplaced on either side. His eyes were more narrowed and stern, still fronting that blank look that his eyes always held. However hard his stare was when he looked at others, he'd never dare look at you with that coldness, whenever he caught himself glancing at you his creased brow would almost immediately flatten. His gaze defrosted into liquid, a softness so delicate and reminiscent of the early days of your relationship. The days where he'd follow you around, craving the warmth of your presence, your smile, you, and everything a five year old brat could offer. In your case, it was friendship.

You and him were two peas in a pod, Detective Shoto and his partner, Sometimes in class you'd daydream about playing detective with him, like how you used to, but you guess you both were a little too old for that now. Besides it's not like there was any mysteries to be solved in the halls of Yuuei.

Not until today.

"a love letter!?!? oh wow!" Deku shrieked a bit too loud for your liking. His whole body shook as he held onto the straps of his backpack. A few students lingering around the halls looked towards the commotion.

"Yeah but shhh!" You leaned closer to the boy pressing your finger to your lips harder and harder. " I don't want anyone to know, it's embarrassinggg! What if they're messing with me? I don't even know who wrote it! I don't wanna get my hopes up you know..." You mumbled that last part, your finger silencing yourself made it hard to talk. You've never been popular with the male species, only ever receiving confessions as jokes from more popular, less disliked, boys. Not that you minded all that, you had a best friend after all, and he was a boy! You were considered popular and you were liked by him!

You tossed your head about to shake the thought of Shoto to no avail. You felt you cheeks heat up. "Can you read it out to me? Maybe they gave a clue as to who they are!" Deku ignored the redness in your face, chalking it up to nervousness. Yeah, you were nervous alright, nervous about what Shoto would think. He's always been relentless in the pursuit of your attention, you couldn't help but wonder how he would react to all this. Would he be mad? No why would he. He has no reason for all that.

You take your time reading out the letter you found in your locker, looking up to meet Izuku's eyes after every sentence, waiting to see if he caught on to any hidden meanings written in-between the lines of the confession. You'd read the letter countless times, scanning over every word to no avail. Only deciding to drag Deku into your conundrum as he was walking past. Whoever had written the letter gave no clue towards their identity. It was just a confession. No 'can you meet me behind the school later today?' or ' will you go out with me? Just an ordinary love letter. Apart from the last section. At the bottom of the paper read a slightly threatening, ominous quote:

"I'll set your heart alight. "

The words made your chest tighten, but not in a good way. It gave you a funny feeling in your stomach, such a normal letter ending so strongly, you were kind of unsettled. "Don't you think that last parts s'a little odd?" You mentioned after finishing up reading. "Kinda sounds like a threat to me." You suddenly gasp, "What if our undercover lover is a villain! They could be plotting to kidnap me ..or worse!" Due to recent events, everyone had the possibility of kidnapping looming over them.

" Umm.. I doubt that a villain could sneak into Yuuei, especially now. I think it was maybe just an attempt romance." Deku chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

"No I seriously thi-

"Yn. Midoriya." Shoto Todoroki stood behind you. You hadn't even noticed him sneaking up on you, whether it was his intention or not, he scared you straight.

"Oh! Hi Shoto!" You calmed yourself, turning your head to make eye contact with him. He only grew closer to you, taking the eye contact as permission to get closer. You could feel the air get hotter as he lingered next to you, reaching his head forward so he could peek at what you were holding so tightly in your hands. His eyes offering no insight to his current emotion whatsoever.

"What is that?" Tilting his head. Suddenly embarrassed you smushed the paper into your chest, crinkling it. "Uhhh.. I got a letter! I don't know who it's from though. Not that it matters." You shrugged. Nice, the nonchalant approach.

"What kind of letter?" He strained his neck for a moment longer before backing up. Face still, ice cold. You sighed at his retreat. Anxiety welling up in your stomach, 'why the hell am I so paranoid for?' You thought.

You were about to dodge the question when Deku asnwered for you, "Its a love letter! From someone unknown, we're actually trying to figure out who it could be from!" At that you crumpled in defeat. Thanks a lot Izuku. Why the hell are you trying to cover it up so much anyways? Huh?!? Your inner monologue accused you.

"Oh." He stepped back even more, No longer feeling his warmth, the hall seemed a whole lot colder without him so close, you urged to scuttle up to him, Only to turn to see Shoto preparing to leave.

"Would you like to help us Sho?" You offered, not wanting him to go so soon. Leaning at the hip towards him, head tilted down, eyes looking up at him.

"No thank you. I have to go, Goodbye Yn, Midoriya, good luck." And at that he started to walk away. You rushed to find something to say, deciding to just let him go, offering a small, "Bye Sho." Along with Izuku's cheery goodbye. 'Was something wrong? Did I do something wrong?' Your spiralling thoughts were soon interrupted by Deku," I wonder what that was all about." The look on Izuku's face mirrored yours, laced with confusion, only less angsty than yours.

"he's probably just busy with assignments or something, wants to get ahead." You chirped, lightening the tension.

"weird of him to turn down an opportunity like this though, he's usually all over this kinda stuff, he's a real hardcore theorist sometimes!... don't tell him I said that."

"oh really?" you jest. Tension dissolved, nice. As if you and him weren't attempting to solve murder mysteries during break time a couple years ago. The memory returning to you, you can't help but feel a little sad.

A couple moments of silence and then, "Ive got it! we could track them down through their handwriting!"

"yeaahhh... but the letters printed!" you retired the letter from your iron grip with an obnoxious groan, provoking a handful of glances from students passing by. "good idea though." You shrink into yourself a little, eye twitchy as you try to disappear through sheer willpower.

"the culprit has thought this out really well.."

"Yeah.. no clues or anything. Apart from the curse at the end."

"Yeah."

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH PLZ LET ME KNOW IF YOU ENJOYED THIS IM WORKINT ON A PART TWO!!!

I don't rlly know how to write stories like this, perchance ill turn it into a mini series or something

part 2

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Take Me, I’m Yours ♡

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You’re the baby of the group, a twenty something year old fire goddess and the untouchable sister of Thor Odinson, your sworn protector and overbearing brother. It's the fourth of July which means it’s Cap’s birthday, your long time teammate, but when an unexpected guest arrives, things don’t go according to plan. 

A/N: oof I haven’t written in forever it seems, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy I hope you guys enjoy this ik I did writing it, this is set after Endgame but Tony and Natasha survived because I WANT THEM TO and I have never really written a Steve Rogers fic or at least in a long time cause I’m watching Avengers on Disney plus rn and it’s a lot be gentle and plz leave feedback it warms my heart and make my day I also crave validation

Warnings: slight angst, loads of fluff, cheesiness, sexual tension, tropes, violence, men being touchy, assault, language, smut, rushed writing, get ready 

Steve is golden. You’re coal black, despite innocent appearances, you’re dark with jagged edges, but your blood is radioactive, glowing with power, just like your brother Thor. But that is what you two share, you and Cap, you’re both broken. 

You’re the baby of the team, young, pink pouted lips, big, doe eyes that get you what you want, round face, flushed cheeks, ample curves, and honey suckle voice, velvet like your y/s/c skin, woven with power and fire. 

You’re strong, smelling of a forest fire in the depths of winter, burning embers and cedar. 

He sees this, all of it, like you admire his broad shoulders, hard muscle, all strength and statue, he’s Apollo, a Greek god made of heat, brick, and mortar. He’s let his chestnut hair grow out slightly, hanging over his face, enough to run his fingers all the way through, a rugged, barbaric beard you want to tug on into submission. 

The goddess and the god-like man.

But he can’t have you.

---

You separate Thor’s hair into three strands, tugging them into a braid as you both watch the meeting planning Captain’s birthday party. Thor winces at your harsh pulling, trying to make it tight. 

“For Odin’s sake, sister, be gentle,” he curses under his breath.

“You want it to last, don’t you? Stop being such a baby and let me work, remember I hold all the power here,” you continue, rolling your eyes with a hint of a smile. “God of thunder can’t handle getting his hair done, how ironic.”

“At least I have a soul.”

“I will light you on fire.”

“You two, stop bickering or I’ll put you on clean up duty,” Stark reprimands.

You roll your eyes, “Kiss my ass, Stark.”

You make the mistake of making eye contact with Steve from across the conference room, lips slightly parted subconsciously when his eyes, a darkened, stormy blue with lightning striking his irises, are drawn there, perfect pink mouth, resembling a rose petal in full bloom. He folds his arms over his chest and looks away while you duck your head down, embarrassed. 

He’s hot and cold when it comes to you, longing glances when he thinks you’re not looking, silent, lustful touches on your waist when he passes you, an occasional wink when no one is around, flirting with you, a conversation or two at the crack of dawn when it’s just you two on the balcony, painted with gold and auburn from the sunrise. But other times he avoids you, going out of his way to be anywhere you’re not, cold words and stares that shiver you down to nothing but your bones, leaving you bare and he won’t even take the time to look at you, your undoing by him. He’s quiet around you at times like he’s hiding something.

Thor looks at you with a face of disgust and you pull his hair.  

“I propose an idea when it comes to my party,” Cap raises his hand, looking at Tony.

“By all means, birthday boy, let us hear it,” Barton chimes in, Natasha casting him a look meant to kill.

“We don’t have it.”

“Proposition denied,” Tony says. “This is happening, and frankly, we could use the good press after the world nearly ending.”

“And celebrating that with a party is your idea of good press?” Bucky leans his weight against the doorway, Sam letting out a small chuckle.

“Hey guys we, as a human race, were all almost completely wiped out by the jolly purple giant but let’s forget about that by celebrating Captain America’s birthday that none of you are invited to,” Sam mocks. You giggle despite yourself, looking at the floor while tying off Thor’s braid, Natasha elbowing your ribcage playfully for encouraging them. 

“Maybe I just want to throw a party,” Tony scoffs. “Sue me.”

“Believe me, if we could, we would,” Clint looks up at him with raised eyebrows.

“I’d be so fucking loaded,” Bucky whispers to Sam.

Sam lets out a deep sigh, “Tell me about it.”

“Y/n... what do you think?” Tony asks, letting out a deep sigh, pinching the space between his brow with his fingers. 

“What do you mean?” you look up, admiring the french braid you did on your brother, smiling to yourself before looking back up at Stark. 

“About the party? What we’ve been talking about for the last half hour?” 

“Oh I wasn’t listening...” you chuckle, looking at Steve from the corner of your eye, his lips turned up. “I um... well I think we should have a small party with all of us and friends, just enough to draw attention from the right people. We can fire up the grill and light a campfire, roast some s’mores... light fireworks, of course,” you trail off with a laugh.

Steve cracks a smile. “I like her idea.”

“That... sounds perfect, actually,” Natasha looks at you then to Tony. 

Tony sighs, but he wears a large smile, adorning his face, “Meeting adjourned.”

---

You paired a baggy striped winter sweater with a pair of black jeans, tight and fitted to your curvy figure, definitely not going unnoticed by Steve, eyes outlining the curves of hips, thighs, dips, and soft round shapes on your body, plump and attractive. He watches you move to the music Tony blasts on his speakers, night just settling in on the sky and painting it black, sun peaking upon the horizon to say hello. 

Natasha hands you a bottle of beer, condensation coating your hand, sweat there too, but the cold night is seeping in and you shiver, “Thanks,” you smile graciously. 

“Have you... you know-” she demonstrates a crude sexual gesture and you scoff. “With you know yet?”

“I want to tell him I like him first,” you explain, taking a gulp of your liquor and feeling the cool bubble tingle your tongue and throat. “Not just fuck him and be done with it... I want more than that.”

“How romantic.”

“I’m serious, Nat. I really like him and he...” you look at her with begging eyes and she sees that you’re sincere. “He wants nothing to do with me.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” you look at the ground, chuckling dryly, nursing your beer. Your hands heat up, something that happens when you grow nervous, your powers light up, literally, a fight or flight reflex for survival. Except now anxiety from a crush. 

You shake your head, taking a larger sip, “He’s so hot and cold.”

“That can be true, but the ways he looks at you...” she hums. “That can only be described as hot,” she snaps her teeth jokingly and lets out a giggle, officially buzzed. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, getting in the party spirit once again. “He doesn’t-”

Your interrupted when an old friend appears in your view and he waves in your direction, Timothy, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent from your starting days here on Earth with your brothers. He trained you alongside Fury before S.H.I.E.L.D and HYDRA fell, and you turned to the Avengers when they offered you a position alongside Thor. He did, however, have a temper and you and many others were sure Timothy had a crush on you for a long time, your fears of losing your colleague becoming a reality when he asked you out and you had to reject him, because you’d already fallen for Steve. He didn’t take it well at the time and you haven’t spoken since. 

“Hey, Timothy,” you smile warmly, politely, moving to return his embrace, he squeezes you tightly, one hand holding a beer and the other wrapped around your waist. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Tony invited all the old S.H.I.E.L.D members, not the HYDRA ones, of course, but I decided to pop in,” he flashes a grin. “And Fury’s over there cutting up a rug,” he points to where Fury is being taught by Peter Parker how to floss. 

You laugh and force a believable smile, “It’s good to see you.”

He looks you over not-so-subtly, something both you and Natasha catch, “It’s really good to see you, too. I’ve missed you.”

You smile, a little anxious all of a sudden, especially when you begin to smell the liquor on his own breath and how grabby his hands look to become, reaching out to touch your waist. You move his hand away, uneasy.

Natasha frowns and moves to take his hand off of you, “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink there, buddy. Why don’t you go sit down?”

“Maybe you need to sit down, I’m talking to y/n,” he rips his hand back. “Mind your own business, bitch.”

“Talk to me or touch y/n like that again and I’ll break your fucking hand,” she seethes through her teeth and sets down her drink.

Shit, shit, shit.

Steve sees the commotion over everyone else talking and chatting, paying no mind to the altercation between you, Natasha, and Timothy. He catches the look on your face, retreating into yourself as Nat rips him a new one, pointing a finger into his chest. He walks over, pushing his way through friends, all out here on Tony’s terrace, past the grill but people keep stopping to talk, anger brewing in his chest at seeing someone hurt you.

Timothy grabs you by the waist, “Hey, I know it’s been a long time, baby, but I wanna get back to what we had.”

“Let go of me,” you push at his chest. “And don’t call me baby. We didn’t have anything.”

“You rejected me all that time ago,” he says, voice growing louder. “Why?” Natasha rushes off to get Tony to kick him out, knowing she shouldn’t cause a scene even further by hurting him, she had to get Tony. 

“Because I don’t see you like that,” you push at him but he grabs both your wrists as you try to push him away. 

“You’re lying, tell me the real reason.”

“I’m. not. lying,” you say but you know what he wants to hear, your eyes burning with tears. You wish you could your power, light him up, but you can’t, your mind is too preoccupied with the answer to his question and you can’t concentrate. 

“Tell me the truth or I’ll tell him myself, say it,” he grows angrier, pulling you. “Say it!” and using your god like strength, you shove him to the ground at last and flames lick your hands. 

“Because I’m in love with Steve!” 

Just as the music goes quiet for Bucky’s toast to his friend, you catch everyone’s attention, head’s turned towards you and you want to crawl in a hole and get buried up again, to sink into the ground. Your face is hot with eyes on you and you can’t move. Tony and Natasha both look at you from the corner of your eye, unknowing of what to think. 

You’ve said it. Said the damn words out loud and you can’t take them back. You’re breath is heavy and weighs on your chest when you look up. 

Steve is in front of you, looking at you with wide eyes and a deep, questioning look and furrowed brow, chest heaving after he’s heard your confession, surprised. 

Fuck.

“You bitch,” he gets back up and moves to hit you but Steve grabs his hand, forcefully and painfully.

He moves over further and manages to pull Timothy off you completely, hand curled in his shirt with his feet off the ground when he pulls him inches away from his face, “Get the hell out of my party, stay away, and don’t touch her again. Are we clear?” his voice is a deep timbre, a low growl with a warning tone. 

He finally listens and grabs another drink on his way, shooting dirty looks to those who watch him leave and you’re left panting, out of breath with tears staining your cheeks, eyes glassy.

Fury trips him on the way out, “I knew you were trouble.”

You look up at Steve who’s in front of you now, “I-I... I’m sorry I ruined your party, Steve... I’m sorry,” you say when he moves to cup your face in his hands, soothing you with shushes and soft coos, wiping away your tears with his calloused thumbs. “I’m sorry-”

“Doll, you didn’t... he did, I’m sorry he was invited here if I had known...” he curses himself. “I’m so sorry.”

You meet his eyes. Oh, he’s so sweet, he’s so sweet it makes your heart ache.

But the question still remains, lingering over your heads: Now what?

---

You’re in the living room of the compound following the events of the disastrous birthday party, curled up on the couch by yourself as everyone’s gone to bed, snacking on remaining popcorn and watching Friends. Tony had sent everyone home after what happened, which people understood, apologizing to the few other friends that attended and offering goodie bags for coming, stuffed with hundreds of dollars of Stark merchandise for good measure. 

Thor had missed the party to visit Jane after they rekindled their romance since he’s back on Earth, but upon hearing the news of this guy touching his baby sister, he dealt with it in his own Thor way. 

Trashing the guy’s house. 

Then after, you and the team went inside, watched a movie, ate popcorn, and laughed at the crappy, Hallmark Christmas movie until your sides were sore.

But even now that everyone is asleep and in their respective rooms, you couldn’t sleep.

And so couldn’t Cap.

You look up at the sound of a door opening from the terrace, Steve walking inside after getting his nightly moment of fresh air and because he agreed to water Stark’s plants a long time ago, and because Tony is well, Tony, he assigned him that job for the entirety of his stay here, much to Steve’s dismay. 

But sometimes he didn’t mind it, going out there at night and seeing the stars because you’re so far up here, set aside from the rest of the world in this safe little pocket of a home and solace and the benefit of seeing you out there with a drink in hand, getting some time to yourself. You with a robe on, nightgown peaking beneath, hair in it’s natural, messy form, bare face or face mask on, and glowing smile. That made it worth it. 

Now it’s just the two of you after a night of you confessing your feelings for him, not directly to him per say, but he heard it nonetheless and he stood there, choking on his words because he had to get that leech of a man off of you, it wasn’t the time to discuss your feelings.

But unfortunately for the both of you at this moment, you can. 

“Hey,” you say, the word somehow weighing on your lungs when you breath it out, muting the television. 

“Hey,” he says back, smiling to put you at ease. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” you say, scooting over to give him room and patting the spot now open for him. 

He chuckles at your nervous energy and sits down beside you. He scratches the back of his neck, all that suave nature leaving him. Captain America is anxious.

“I feel... like we should talk about what happened and what you said earlier,” he looks at you, the same begging eyes you look at with Nat when you want her to see you were serious. You see it in his too. They’re wide and pouring out from all seams, want and need. 

“We should,” you nod, awaiting the rejection you’ve been preparing for all night. 

“I’m.. so sorry about that guy, I wanted to kill him for what he did to you and what he was trying to do,” he says, visibly getting angrier but you lay a hand on his, soothing him into a relaxed, calm state. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “Guys like that come and go, but guys like you who help, stay forever.” 

He looks down at your intertwined fingers, softly comforting each other, smiles, and breathes a laugh, “I should have done more.”

You tilt your head, “You helped and he’s gone and that’s what matters, so thank you. Don’t take that blame.” 

He finally looks at you. “And when you said that thing... I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” he admits, turning so he sees you in the eyes as you turn to look away from him now, not willing to face him fully. “If I had, I would have...”

“Said no sooner?” you laugh but there’s no humor found in it.

“Can you let me finish?” he tilts his head and smiles, lopsided and pretty. 

You look at him as a signal to continue and he takes it, taking on a bit of your nervous energy in his stammering.

“I like you, y/n, I like you so much,” he says, open and out on display for you. You search his face for the lie, the catch in his words, how this’ll twist around to bite you in the ass and turn out to not be true, all some big elaborate lie or scheme. You don’t know what but what he’s saying can’t be true. 

Not you. Not him. 

“And for so long,” he laughs. “I’m such an idiot, I’ve just been so nervous,” he looks you in the eye, so raw and vulnerable. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

You’re a flustered, flattered, blushing, blabbering mess.

“But... you... you avoid in me in the halls,” you say, stunned. “Y-you don’t look me in the eye and you don’t talk to me at times, sometimes for days, only when I initiate it, yet you’re always looking at me and around when I’m there a-and...” you blink hard and rapidly, coming to the realization.

“Oh.”

He gulps, embarrassed himself now, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how or if I had a chance with you, you’re brother’s one of my best friends and I-” He looks to you for forgiveness as he tries to muster up what he wants to say. 

You swallow that lump in your throat and duck to kiss the corner of his mouth, that pink curl of lip you love so much when he’s smirking at something you said or just because, and pull away, looking down at your clasped hands, all of you on fire. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice low when you look at him through your thick lashes, demure. “I understand.”

His lips part and heavy sighs leave his mouth, cheeks red with lust and heat, eyes full blown to match. 

He ducks down just as you did, looking in your eye and you nod slowly for confirmation, before he catches your lips in a feverish, desperate kiss, moving with your mouth as you slide closer to him with your hand pressed against his hard chest. 

He takes hold of your thighs and pulls into his broad lap, erection potent against your inner thigh already as you straddle him, soft, flustered movements until you find the best position. His eyes hold both complete adoration and magnetism for you, a groan slipping past his perfect pink mouth when you move against his sweet spot of your doing. Your lips press together again and you move in tandem, tongue sliding past and licking his inner lip, like licking a flame, an ember of fire and ash and coal. You taste like summer rain and full promises of more to come, like hope after a long, hard day that things will get better, while also tentative and unsure. 

His large hand slides up under your t-shirt while the other keeps you steady wrapped around your waist, he moves to pinch both nipples, tweaking the erect, pink bud between his fingers and digs his fingers into your side. Sinful mewls escape you as he tilts your head up for access to the expanses of your neck and down, peppering wet, sloppy, rushed kisses to anywhere he can find, a begging, starving man and you’re his only hope of salvation.

“Steve...” you let out, hand dipping down between his legs and he groans, deep and guttural before catching your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging, your fingers threaded in his hair and pulling, and the moans that fall from him make that tight coil in your gut curl within itself, exciting you.

His cock twitches when he solicits a series of whimpers from you, lifting and pulling your shirt off and over your head to suck your nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive peaks, and biting, switching between them. His fingers dance down your stomach and snaps the lining of your panties, sliding a single finger into your sex, the two equally heavenly sensations sending you to that fateful, blissful release you crave, and when a second, a third, joins you’re wrecked, moans falling out and you collapse into him as it subsides, lasting longer than any has before and he’s barely doing anything. 

So this is what it should feel like. 

“You were so good, baby,” he kisses your cheek, then your temple, then your neck, your lips, nose, forehead. “So good for me,” he tells you. “Do you want more, doll?” 

“Absolutely.”

[little-miss-kitti]

Your scent

*Ahem* *Ahem* Hello, I tried writing something long...

Not sure if I got Victor’s characterisation correct, so plz feel free to leave feedback <3 I kind of wanted to explore how he would handle the advances of Chik (who we know has made advances on him in the past) after realising he’d fallen in love with MC. Just a lil scenario my brain cooked up ehehe~ hope you like it x

Disclaimer: ITS A LIL BIT NSFW(ish)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor could say with great confidence that being CEO never got easier. Thankfully the board meeting that afternoon had gone pretty much according to his expectations, due in part to the preparation he’d done overtime. What he hadn’t expected was to find Chik relaxing leisurely his couch when he entered his penthouse late in the evening, clothed in a tight black dress that exposed too much skin to be comfortable on a chill winter evening. A sly, teasing smile, that had no doubt seduced many men, had crept across her lips at his obvious confusion.

“So, this is what a CEO’s home looks like?” She commented in a pensive tone, eyes wandering around casually. “Your penthouse is quite beautiful.”

“Yes, I’m very fortunate.” Victor said curtly, irritation sparking in his chest. “May I ask what you are doing in it?”

Chik wasn’t fazed by his tone and replied lightly, “Waiting for you, of course.”

Victor was the only one who knew the door code to the penthouse, aside from you and Goldman when you needed to drop files off. But neither of you had reason to tell her. The building manager must have been persuaded to give her the key. He’d settle that problem later.

Deciding that it was important he keep his composure, Victor loosened his tie slightly and went to sit on the sofa opposite, maintaining his air of business.

“Is there something you would like to discuss?” He asked, using the level tone that usually reminded everyone in the room who had the authority. “I assume that’s why you’re here.”

“Why so formal? You can relax with me.” Chik said silkily. “I’m not here for my agency. I’m here for…personal reasons.” The obvious point in her tone left no mystery to her objective, and Victor tried not to show his disgust when she leaned forward deliberately onto her crossed legs to give him a not-so-subtle view of her cleavage.

He didn’t find it difficult to show his disinterest. “Is it personal funding you’re after? With the popularity of your last series I find it hard to believe you’re in need of financial support—”

He was cut off by an indignant scoff. “Jesus, Victor.” Chik rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet.

The clicking of her heels on the marble floor as she made her way towards him grated on his already frayed nerves, and he clamped his jaw to keep himself from saying something that might affect his relationship with the agency.

“I know you make it a point not to play around with women, but,” she slid her knees onto the couch on either side of his thighs, straddling his lap. The stench of her perfume was sickeningly overpowering. Wetting her lips, she gazed down at him under long lashes. “Don’t you think you’ve kept me hanging a little too long?”

Victor looked up at her in his unaffected way, attempting to identify what it was that made her so decidedly unattractive to him. Was it that arrogant confidence in the curl of her lip that said she could get whomever she wanted whenever she wanted? Was it the shameless way she’d let herself into his apartment – without removing her shoes – on the assumption that he would give her the attention she so obviously craved? Or was it simply the fact that he was in love with another so completely different to the woman straddling his lap, that he found himself comparing her every move to the one he wanted on top of him.

Victor had seen a lot of confidence throughout his career; most of which unfortunately seemed to stem from the arrogance of constant success with the absence of hard work. Maybe that was one of the reasons you had managed to pique his interest. You’d shown him there was innocence in the confidence of knowing you had the ability to excel, and your unwavering determination to give it your all to make it so. He’d thought your determination to challenge him naïve at first, but humoured your attempt for his own entertainment. When you rose to the challenge, he reluctantly acknowledged your work-ethic and competence as a manager, though noted there was still much room for improvement. It was as he spent more time with you, Victor began to realise why your subordinates loved and respected you so much. It was different to the fearful respect and distant admiration his subordinates had towards him. Rather, yours bantered and laughed with you easily, but respected your decisions and authority as a superior they relied on and looked up to. Your patience and kindness spoke volumes that his curt tone and sharp criticism never could.

After a while it began to affect him too.

Many women had pined for his attention over the years, using their beauty and expected corporate inheritance to flaunt themselves like peacocks in a futile attempt to catch his eye. But you he could read like an open book, so it had been easy to see you had no ulterior motives from the start. In that sense there was something refreshing about the innocence of the friendship that blossomed naturally between you. And the more you revealed of herself, the more he wanted to know. 

He’d quickly realised just how fun you were to tease and found great amusement in the vast expanse of your reactions to his playful banter. Sometimes you snapped back with a witty response that had him smiling for the rest of the day, and other times (much to his delight) you could be so lost for words and do nothing but turn your face away with an indignant huff to hide your hot blush. It was in those times that Victor found himself most in danger of acting unpredictably. Even his display of physical affection towards you had become increasingly daring. It started with a gentle pat on your head, then the affectionate tucking of a strand of hair behind your ear, then the graze of his lips against your forehead or eyelids in a way that left you both unsure whether or not it could be defined as a kiss; and one time, you were being so cute that he only just managed to catch himself before he’d taken your face in his hands and kissed you full on the mouth.

And yet at the same time you seemed so oblivious to his affections that Victor felt like he was driving himself into a hole. Surely, he’d made his feelings obvious enough. But then again, even Victor hadn’t realised just how gentle he’d become with you until recently. And you were a dummy, after all.

He was recalled abruptly to the current situation when Chik, tired of waiting for a reaction, ducked her head impatiently and began to press firm kisses to his neck. Disgusted, Victor quickly debated whether it would be ruder to push her off, wipe his neck with a tissue and call security; or just tell her straight that he was not remotely attracted to her or her body. As he decided, Chik’s hand snaked its way down his chest to rest on the crotch of his suit pants. The contact sent a wave of revulsion coursing through Victor’s body, and he grabbed her wrist with ungentlemanly strength. Thinking she’d achieved something, Chik lifted her head victoriously and cast him a smug smile.

“You’re turned on, aren’t you?” she purred against his ear. “Let me help. No one will be able to satisfy you like I can.”

Victor was very much turned off, and if he’d let her continue her aimless palming of his crotch, she would have soon realised he was as limp as a dead fish. The only hands he wanted on him were yours. More than he cared to admit, he allowed his thoughts to stray to the ways he could please you, the way he’d dreamed of hearing you moan his name, and he’d realised his longing to feel the warmth of your body against his. But you weren’t his yet. Perhaps you would never be his, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let another woman fill the position he’d reserved solely for you. Deciding his relationship with the agency could go to hell if they encouraged this manner of behaviour, Victor stood up abruptly, throwing Chik from his lap. She stumbled to catch her footing on the floor and looked at him apprehensively, apparently not quite sure whether to feel confident or concerned.

“There is and will only ever be one woman permitted to sneak into my house uninvited.” Victor said coolly, his voice dangerously low. “And you aren’t her. I will see you to the door.”

Astounded by the silent ire she saw simmering in his dark eyes, Chik realised quickly that he wasn’t just being thoughtlessly dismissive like before. The space in Victor’s heart was now truly taken.

He’d fallen in love.

Accepting her defeat with grace, Chik followed the direction of his extended arm towards the hallway. She paused at the door, slipped a hand in her purse and held up the penthouse key card between her index and middle finger. “You might want to leave this in the hands of someone you trust.”

Victor took it. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He said as he opened the door.

Once Chik was gone, Victor went straight to the laundry room. The overpowering stench of her perfume still clung to his clothes, and knowing it was the scent of another woman repulsed him. Unbuttoning his shirt, Victor tore it from his body, wiped the side of his neck with it, and tossed it straight into the washing machine. The immediate pang of loneliness that stabbed at his heart was unwelcome, and Victor realised just how much he missed the subtle sweetness of your scent. The way he would catch it on the breeze when you walked past, hanging lightly in the air for only a moment and then gone before he could relish it. Or the way the smell of your shampoo made him achingly aware of how close you were. It was then that Victor found himself dialling your number.

You picked up on the third ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Just making sure a certain dummy remembers that she has a report due in three days.”

There was a lengthy pause. “Crap.”

All previous notion for the call was forgotten as a deep frown furrowed across Victor’s brow. “Don’t tell me you completely forgot about it.”

“Then I won’t say a thing.” You replied quickly. “I’ll hang up and get straight onto it— bye!”

The line went dead before Victor had time to reply. Dropping his arm, he looked down at his phone in disbelief. Why, oh why, of all women on this earth, did he fall for a dummy?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

AHHHH thank you so much for reading <3 It’s my first time writing something so long so I apologise if it got a lil messy ehe

[angelic-holland]

Open My Eyes in the Right Way Teaser

Full one shot will be posted Saturday! Check out All Eyes On You!  plz send me feedback bc i crave attention

“Come on, I got you a present,” Tom says, fingers sliding easily into the space between your own while guiding you towards the right gate.

“I hope it’s a snap of your fingers and we’re in London,” you joke, resting your head on his shoulder as he hands the tickets to the flight attendant standing at the gate.

“Even better, well, no, not better, I don’t know why I said that,” Tom squeezes your hand as you walk down this long hallway towards the plane.

“Okay, don’t keep me waiting, what is it?” 

“Two seconds, once we get settled in I’ll give it to you,” Tom assures you as you enter the plane. The flight attendants treat you like royalty and your jaw drops when you see the seats. “This is meant for one person?” You sit down on the seat that is essentially a bed.

“Yeah, here,” Tom sits in the seat next to you, showing you how to fold the seat back up. You play with the seat for a while, eyes lighting up when you see you have an entire TV to yourself.

“Here,” Tom pulls big over the ear headphones out of his bag.

“What are these?”

“Well I was doing some research, about flying on planes with tinnitus and problems with pressure, and they said that noise cancelling headphones work really well. So I made you this playlist and-,”

“You made me a mixtape?” Your voice got really high pitched and Tom laughed, pulling out his phone.

“Sort of, here,” He places the headphones over your ears and makes sure they completely cover them. 

“Can you hear me? I can’t hear anything!” You say rather loudly and Tom nods before lifting them back off, setting them on your lap.

“Here, it’s mostly Led Zeppelin instrumentals, the soothing calmer ones, but uh, I added some other ones, they said that works the best when listening to soft music,” he says.

“Tom-,” “I could always sing to you but I don’t think that would work as well.”

“Tom,” you say, voice more insistent, cupping his cheeks to bring his attention to you. 

“And my voice is nowhere near the genius of Robert Plant.”

“Tom, I love you.”

It takes him off guard, you can tell, he almost does a double-take, like he wasn’t sure you were actually saying what you were saying. But the words I love you sounded gorgeous on your lips. Especially in person. 

“I love you more,” Tom smiles, the words falling easily from his lips.

“Doubt it,” you tease. 

[multiseries-imagines-blog]

Attention seeker

Request: Yes Pairing: Klaus x fem!reader

4, 16, and 19 from the fluff list? Klaus Hargreeves x reader plz!

4. “i’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention”

16. “no, you can’t get up! you’re my prisoner for today”

19. “i know i’ve kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please”

Warnings: some swearing ?? implied smut, FLUFF

 A/N: I really liked how this turned out so I hope y´all enjoy it. Feedback is always welcomed. Requests are opened, I do imagines, hcs, ships and more stuff x

You were woken up by the annoying sound of your alarm clock that on your nightstand. You stir trying to reach for it, your arm heavy hitting everything in the night table. Dropping the clock to the floor, the irritating sound ceases and you let out a sigh of relief. To be honest you were never a morning person but you had some studying to do, there was no avoiding it. You were in college and finals were coming over so there was no time to waste.

You try to get up but something is restraining you, most likely, someone. Klaus had his arm around your waist, spooning you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck and you could feel his breath tickling you on your shoulder. You try to move his arm from your waist but his grip only gets tighter.

You and Klaus had been dating for three years and moved in together to a small apartment only a year ago. The apartment was small but you wouldn´t complain about it, Klaus would always say it was better because he´d be closer to you. The bedroom you guys shared was also very limited, there was your shared full sized bed, two nightstands right by the sides and a desk right in front of the bed. That´s where you´d study and do your assignments.

It´s a fact that Klaus was older than you, not that much though, but still, older. You were on college; it was your third year there, just one more year of suffering left. So every weekend you´d get up at eight o´clock and study or work on assignments or whatever you had to do. Today was not different.

“Klaus, sweetie, I need to get up.” You shook him a little bit

“no, you can’t get up! you’re my prisoner for today” he hugs your waist even tighter

“I´m serious Klaus, finals are next week, I need to study”

“ok whatever, but you have to kiss me first”

He made a little pout, his eyes still closed. You leaned in and gave him a little peak but he wouldn´t let go. Klaus wasn´t a morning person either but he was very sappy and craving for affection. You decided to give him another kiss, again he wouldn´t let go of you. Finally after what you felt like ages and thousands of kisses he let go. You got up and sat on the little desk by the end of the bed and you began with your studying.

You were three hours deep in your biology studying and you still didn´t understand the topic, the different types of epithelium were killing you. You were so concentrated in understanding what glandular epithelium was that you didn´t hear Klaus get up and sit at the end of the bed, admiring you.

“you almost done?” he says

“not really, can´t get to understand this shit, biology is killing me”

“take a break and I can show you how it works” he wiggles his eyebrows at you

He tries to seduce you but you ignore him. He continues with the seduction, every now and then saying some filthy stuff to you in order to get you back to bed with him but you continued to ignore him. When he notices that the flirting wasn´t working he tried a more efficient way to get you attention: poking your side. You tried avoid him, thinking that he´s gonna get tired and stop but you knew Klaus wasn´t like that.

“could you PLEASE stop?” you were now very much annoyed

“i’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention”

“if you don´t stop, I´ll cut your finger off”

“oh! I´m scared!” he starts shaking violently

“try me, I dare you” you pointed your index finger at him, threatening

“COME ON! Ben says you should come back to bed with me”

That was a lie, Ben wasn´t on the room but he knew you had a soft spot for his dead brother.

“I´m pretty sure he didn´t say that”

“you´ve been studying for hours, take a rest”

He stands up from the bed and he locates himself behind you, his hands go to your shoulders and massage them for some minutes. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands in your back. You almost moaned at the feeling of relaxation, it was like Goosebumps running through your spine.

“ok, take me to bed”

You finally give up. He takes you in his arms and lays you back on the bed right next to him. He covers the both of you with the bed sheets, preventing you from getting cold. You cuddled him. Klaus was laying on his back and you had your head over his chest, hearing to his slow heartbeat. Klaus was appreciating your calmness and your tranquility. He loved seeing you this care free, not stressed over any stupid chemistry assignment. His fingers were playing with your hair.

“i know i’ve kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please” he whispers

You smirk and get closer to his face, only inches away from his lips. You can almost feel him when a smile forms on his face. You stay like that for a moment, letting the anticipation grow in Klaus, you loved teasing him.

“only if you go get me ice-cream” you say pulling back and he groaned.

Taglist: @jellyfishpoptart