minoozi

[minoozi]

brokenhearted (chapter 3)

-> Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x fem!reader

summary: "How can I hit rewind so I could find a single reason why you would leave with no goodbye"

Touya walked into your life with no warning and settled himself in your heart. But how do you expect to build a relationship based on lies and betrayals?

warnings: major character death, mentions of sex, angst, no happy ending

masterlist -> previous chapter

networks: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @love-and-fiction

You don't know exactly when Touya stops showing up at your doorstep. It's gradually, you think. First, he only shows up whenever he needed a good fuck - a way to let out some steam. Everything is too fast. Most times, you don't even get your clothes off before Touya is pushing you against any surface to fuck you; then, he starts spending less and less time with you - completely ignoring aftercare or anything related to your well-being in general. The hero leaves before you catch your breath. On those days, you just lay in bed crying with the painful bruises to remind you that none of this is just a nightmare; lastly, you simply stop seeing him.

You held onto the hope that Touya was just too busy but days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months and, when you realize, it has been 159 days since you last saw him. You spend sleepless nights figuring out if you should blame yourself for his disappearance but you can't seem to find a reason why you are at fault. But you must be, right? There has to be something you're missing. Another part of you is scared that Touya is dead in some alley and no one found him yet. The memories of your first meeting keep replaying in your head and you're afraid history repeated itself, except you weren't there to save him.

The TV is on and serves as background noise to try and drown your thoughts as you helplessly try to study for your upcoming exam but a change of the image has you turning your head to pay attention to the television. Your heart stops at the sight. Touya is sitting on a couch, shirtless, shoulders down. He looks the same but you still have to take a double look. Touya has always seemed light and happy around you but this Touya looks… dead.

“I am Touya Todoroki.” The sound of his voice after so long makes tears form in your eyes. It almost makes you brush past the famous surname that leaves his mouth. “The eldest son of Endeavor.”

You get up and make your way until you're standing in front of the TV. You stare and stare at the image of Touya on the screen and you pinch yourself hard to wake up from the sick dream you're having. “To date, I’ve killed over 30 innocent people in cold blood and today I’d like everyone to know exactly what drove me to such despicable acts.”

You run to your phone and search his name online. Hundreds of people are already talking about it. News articles after news articles talk about ‘Dabi’ and everything that is known about the villain. You read those stories as your Touya speaks about his past in the background. This has to be some sick joke. A link to a livestream has you shakingly click on your screen, redirecting you for some streaming app. The fight already had started by the time you finished downloading and setting up an account. Touya (or Dabi, you’re not sure what to call him anymore) is destroying himself while all you can do is watch. For a bit, you think whether or not you should intervene but what were you supposed to do? You were a quirkless civilian that just so happened to have a sort of situationship with a wanted criminal. You would get held back or killed before you even managed to talk to Touya.

So you watch. You watch the blurred images of your Touya fighting and destroying his body along the way through tears, with sobs that shake your body and have you gasping for air. You watch your Touya get engulfed in flames as he gives his all to destroy the man who he claimed to be his father. You watched until you couldn't watch anymore, stopping just as the camera was about to move to show his unmoving body on the floor.

Incoming messages from a groupchat with your friends have you putting the device on ‘do not disturb’ so you don’t see what they are saying about the man you once dreamt of introducing to them as your boyfriend, your lover.

You let your body fall back on the couch. You cry until you can’t cry anymore, your tears dry, your sobs stop and the room is silent. You sit there looking at the TV in front of you, your reflection staring back, and you wait for Touya to come knocking at your door. You tell yourself it is just a joke - Touya will be coming back to you, smirking when you open the door while knowing you will be tending his wounds gently.

“Touya… this isn’t funny anymore.” you speak up. There’s no reply. “You’re always getting hurt. I have to keep restocking the first aid kit because of you.” You laugh but there’s no happiness behind it. “Seriously I’m going to be broke soon because of you… Either way, I’ll always take care of you. So pl-ease come home.” And just like that you’re back to sobbing loudly, totally alone in your small apartment. You keep begging Touya to be okay, hiccups making your speech barely understandable but it doesn't matter because you’re alone. Lonely on the couch where you spent so many good moments, you beg for the man who put you together just to break you again. Curled up on the couch and with the feeling of a knife stabbing your heart, you’re undoubtedly alone.

Losing Touya hurts. It keeps hurting for days and weeks and months. It never stops working but the pain becomes bearable. At least, that is what you tell yourself. You hated Touya (or Dabi, you’re still not sure what to call him) for a few weeks. You despised him for lying and for not telling you even in his final moments. You hated that you couldn't sit on the couch without thinking about him but you also couldn't sleep on the bed because of all the moments you spent there. You loathed that he still made you cry everyday before sleeping, curled up on the floor because it seemed to be the only place that didn't fill you with love and grief.

Those negative feelings for Touya prevailed until you saved up enough money to remodel your whole apartment. You didn't leave. You hated Touya Todoroki but you never left the place that reminded you of him the most. Part of you doesn't want to feel like he won - you didn't want to leave your home because of a messed up relationship. The other part was hopeful that Touya would be back one day - you couldn't risk moving places and never seeing him again.

After you stopped hating him, you started missing him. You would find yourself cooking his favorite and then setting two plates on the table. You would talk about your day and ramble about whatever was going on in your life. Silence was your only answer but you still talked. “Your little brother was on the news today. I didn't pay much attention but he looks just like you. I bet you’re proud of it, uhm?” You would say. Silence. “You always said you couldn't make amends with your siblings but I think you should try.” More deafening silence. “I know you don't like to talk about it. Anyways, work was chaotic today.”

This period of yearning never ended, unlike the time where you hated him. You changed your routine to accommodate Touya and never went back to normal.

Your friends noticed the way you changed so drastically but nothing was enough to get you to talk like you do late at night when you think you’re sharing your thoughts with Touya. They recommended therapy but you couldn't tell what had happened. You couldn't do that to him. So you played pretend. You smiled, laughed and everything went back to normal when you were outside the house. But you knew better and the void inside you was eating you slowly. You think everything would get fixed if you just had one person to talk to but you were alone. At some point, you were so desperate that you considered going to his family. Maybe you could share your moments with Touya, show them he was more than the villain TV portrayed. You end up coming to the conclusion that it is a bad idea.

Despite everything you live your life the best way you can without the man that changed your perception of love forever. You don't date or even try to even if your friends insist. You don’t look for Touya in other men and try to fill the void he left. You survive while ignoring “Why aren't you married?” and “Is there anyone special in your life?” and a hundred other questions that people in your life throw at you. You spend your days surrounded by people but still lonely and empty. You die young but with a feeling free after so many years tied up by sadness. In your final moments, you are alone. You pray to whoever is listening that you will meet Touya again, whether it is in heaven, hell, or in your next life.

You die just like you lived - isolated and hoping you will be with Touya Todoroki again, even if only in your dreams.

[minoozi]

DO IT LIKE THAT

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you live a cliché with your coworker and you just happened to have a crush on him. luckily he seems to feel the same.

requested: by anon -> Is it possible to get a coworker! Chan smut?where he and the reader have to share a bed and he’s really nervous because he likes her. He’s definitely a sub for her and asks her to choke him because it’s one of his fantasies.

warnings: NSFW, oral (male receiving), choking but nothing too serious, chan is a tiny bit submissive but not much

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You are stressed.

Stress is a feeling you are used to and is very much present in your day to day life but you don’t know the last time you felt it to this intensity.

The company you worked at had asked you and another employee to go to a meeting a few cities away. Driving back would be too tiring so you were tasked with getting two hotel rooms for the night, something you had to do multiple times in the past. You assured Chris, your coworker, that everything would be taken care of. You scheduled the entirety of the trip from the second you stepped out of your apartment to the moment you got back the day after. Everything seemed fine.

It wasn't.

After a long drive - in which Chris refused to let you switch places and drive for a bit so he could rest - and a boring meeting, you finally reach the hotel; just to find out you only had booked one room. Apparently, your sleep-deprived self forgot to change the room numbers from one to two when booking on the website and you had been so busy that you didn't stop once to confirm if everything was okay before the trip. Because of some concert happening in town, there weren't available rooms and you were presented with a choice: you either suck it up and share a bed with your attractive coworker or you deal with a long car ride back, meaning you would get home by dawn. Objectively, you should choose the second option. You are not working tomorrow so you could simply sleep all day. Going home would prevent having the awkward “do you want me to sleep on the floor?” discussion and it would most definitely keep your feelings in check. You are not a high school girl that needs an excuse to get close with her crush. Absolutely not.

“Well, I don’t mind sharing for a night.” Chan says, that big, stupid, pretty smile displaying his teeth and the perfect dimples. “Unless you don't feel comfortable, which is absolutely fine. I can just drive back and send someone to pick you up tomorrow?”

Maybe you do need an excuse to be near your crush. “I couldn't do that to you. We can just share a room.”

So, together, you make your way to the room. Like a good cliché, there was only one bed in the room but it was big enough to let you sleep without needing to be pressed against Chan’s body. It bummed you out a little. Now there wasn't an excuse to feel his warmth, maybe have your legs touch while trying to fall asleep, his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath…

You sigh, maybe a bit too loud since it has Chris turning to look at you. “Everything ok?” he asks but you can only nod as you drop your backpack on the bed and question every life decision you made that led you to this moment. You open your backpack to get your pajamas and almost whine when you remember that you packed the ugliest pieces you got. You were just being dramatic, of course. Your pajamas were simply a pair of old shorts (it had been kind of hot the past couple of days and you didn’t want to risk getting too warm because of pants) and an even older t-shirt with a band logo that was mostly faded. ‘Normal pajamas’, you tell yourself, but you just lost the opportunity to seduce your very handsome coworker with a sexy set.

“So unprofessional, shut up.” you murmur to yourself.

“Did you say something?”

Your head snaps in his direction and you laugh a bit awkwardly. “I said I was gonna change in the bathroom.” You say, lying through your teeth, as you gather the things you need in your arms and speed walk to the bathroom. You feel like you can breathe again when you lock the bathroom door and look at yourself in the mirror. A shower is everything you need right now and you can only hope you come out of it with a clearer mind and one less crush.

You remove your clothes and take a very cold shower so your mind can focus on your shivering figure rather than your coworker’s extremely hot body. It doesn't work. You leave the tub shaking and still thinking about Chris’ arms around you. You brush your teeth thinking about his body. Unfortunately, you can’t really come up with a plan B before you’re walking out the door. Fortunately, you’re glad you didn’t waste more time thinking of a plan B because your mind goes blank as soon as your eyes focus on Chris sitting on the bed. He’s looking at his phone, still wearing his suit and obviously waiting for you to be done so he can shower. You feel like screaming at the sight of his shirt unbuttoned almost all the way, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair messy from running his fingers through it.

At the sound of your steps, Chris looks up from his phone. You notice the way his eyes travel up your legs a bit too slowly until they settle on your face. You wished there was more noise outside because you’re not sure if Chan can hear your heavy breathing or your loud thoughts. You walk to the bed, trying not to stare too much at the man sitting next to your backpack. Carefully, you put your dirty clothes inside a plastic bag before shoving it inside the backpack. Chan still hasn't moved from his place and you can feel his intense stare. Once again, you can’t help but think this is unprofessional. Ok sure - there wasn't anything forbidding a hookup with your coworker. Your contract didn't specify anything about relationships of any kind but you still viewed it as improper.

You look again at Chris and his eyes are now on yours. You watch as his tongue licks his lips and think you don't mind being improper when the object of your dirty thoughts looks this good.

You move until you’re standing in front of him. Chris looks up at you with hooded eyes and shiny lips and something tells you he wants this as much as you.

“See something you like?” you say to the man, his legs spreading to accommodate you in between them.

“Definitely.” He replies, his ears already getting a bit red. You take off your shirt, basking in the attention Chan is giving you and your naked breasts. You slowly fall to your knees, looking up at the man through your eyelashes. This was most definitely a bad idea but how were you going to stop when Chris is looking down at you with those eyes? “I’ve been imagining you like this for so long.” He breathes out, his voice trembling a bit.

“Oh?” You finish unbuttoning his shirt. “You’ve been thinking about me on my knees? You’re sounding like a perv Channie.” You tease.

“N-no, I didn't mean it like that.” He stutters. With his help, you pull his pants and boxers down to his knees so you eye the dick standing tall and proud against his stomach. “I just… think about you.”

“Yeah? I think about you a lot too.” You admit, laying your head on his thigh as you look at him. “You always walk around the office with those tight shirts and pretty smiles. Makes me so weak.” You confess, holding the base of his cock with your hand. Chan hisses at the contact and his hand goes to your head, automatically pushing you closer.

You slightly part your lips to give an open-mouth kiss on the red-ish tip. You look up at Chris when your mouth fits his cock inside and he curses before throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. Moving your head up and down, you watch as the man above you crumbles under your touch. He curses and squeezes between his fingers the fabric underneath him. Your free hand sneaks past your shorts to touch yourself. Chris pushes your head down further when you whine around his dick as you insert a finger inside you. You gag around him and your coworker seems to like it by the way his hips start moving to fuck your face. Tears fill your waterline but Chris isn't even looking at you to see the damage, too focused on the sensations your mouth gives him.

His dick twitches inside your mouth and he immediately stops. Chan looks at you, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His lips are red, probably from biting it to keep his moans to himself. He looks good - too good for your own good, to be honest. You remove your hand from your shorts and his hand leaves your hair to settle on your cheek, a silent request for you to get up. Your knees hurt but you don't mind it. Chris moves to sit up against the headboard and you take off your remaining clothes before sitting on his thighs. His hands find a place on your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin as he now looks up at you with those intense eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers. You simply nod, leaning down to meet him halfway. His lips are soft and he tastes just like the mint he offered you after dinner. His kisses are slow and so sweet - you might actually fall in love.

“Do you have a condom?” You murmur against his lips.

“My wallet.” He replies. You get up to search for his wallet and, after following his instructions, you grab the condom. Chris had laid further down, his head now placed on the soft pillows. You go back to sitting on his thighs, opening the package before rolling the condom down his length.

“Are you sure?” You question. Chan nods as he says a small ‘yes’ and it’s enough for you to lead his tip to your entrance before sinking down on it slowly. “I need a minute…”

Chris is understanding. He stays still even if his dick is twitching like crazy inside you. He doesn't move even if you’re squeezing him like crazy. He waits for your signal before he’s moving his hips to meet yours. You place your hands on his chest for support and Chris is so focused on the way you move that he thinks that was the moment he fell in love with you. You bounce on his lap, head thrown back while you moan so sweetly, caring only about your pleasure. Seeing you like that is enough for Chris though. You look down at him, hands squeezing the flesh of his chest and arms as your moans grow a bit louder, needier. “I th-ink I’m gonna cum.” Chan manages to say.

You stop your movements immediately. “You can’t cum until I do.” Maybe it’s the authoritative voice you used (the same one you use when you’re ordering around people at the company that always has his pants tightening) or the hand that slips to his throat and squeezes just a tiny bit to make your point. Chan doesn't know, perhaps it was a mix of both. What he does know is that it has him spilling inside the condom with a strangled moan and a gasp. “You have got to be kidding me.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know why that happened!” Chan starts rambling, saying everything that comes to mind without even thinking. You roll your eyes, get up and pull out his condom to throw away. You thank a higher entity that he had another one in his wallet or it would be a shame that your night ended like this. “I mean I’ve been thinking about- Well not with you obviously! Ok maybe with you, god I’m such a pervert and…”

“It’s not a big deal.” You interrupt his rambling. “It’s hot really.” You murmur under your breath. “Do you want me to choke you Channie?”

Chan looks like he’s about to cry, the tips of his ears a vivid red. “Yeah? Only if you’re ok with it.”

You go back to bed and repeat the same process you did a few minutes ago, except you’re now holding a softer cock. Chris’ eyes widen and he’s about to ask for a little break but then you're sinking down on him again and his dick seems to come back to life. Your hand now finds a place on his neck, fingers squeezing the sides just enough that he feels it but not enough that he struggles breathing. Chan likes the pressure there, mixed with you bouncing on his lap and moaning his name so desperately. You like the image of Chan under you, mouth parted while he whines at the stimulation and pleas to go faster. You apply a bit more pressure and Chris’ eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to say something. The words don't come out but you still understand the warning. You keep the pressure, watching Chan suck in a breath before he’s spilling inside the condom once again. You don’t stop, set on reaching your orgasm as well. You let go of his neck to touch your clit, moving your fingers in circles while you get closer with each thrust. Chris squeezes your waist, helps you lift yourself up a few more times until you reach your high again.

You let yourself fall to his side, laying next to him on your back while breathing heavily. “Are you ok?” You hear Chris ask.

“More than ok.” You turn your head to look at him. “I’m so glad I fucked up the booking.”

“I’m glad you did too.” He sits down on the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “Let's go, we can shower together this time.”

With weak legs and a big smile, you let yourself get dragged by Chris to the bathroom. Today, you will enjoy whatever this is. Tomorrow, you will figure it out.

[minoozi]

untitled

-> Toji Fushiguro x Reader (gender neutral)

characters: Toji Fushiguro

genre: fluff

summary: uni has been stressing you out and your boyfriend is as tired

warnings: established relationship, age gap, this was written while i was stressing over assessments and i just needed a big strong sexy man to make me take a break, might be ooc

network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

Toji thinks he might smash his head against the wall if he hears you sigh loudly one more time. He turns his body on the couch to peek at you, hunching over a bunch of papers at the kitchen table. He can see two word documents opened on your laptop, one full of words and the other still blank. Next to it, his laptop that you begged to use has google opened and he can vaguely see the numerous windows in the tab. You sigh again, like you have been in the past hour, and drop your head on your arms.

Toji has no idea what you’re doing. He guesses it must be some university project but the calendar displayed on the fridge doesn't have an exam coming up soon. He gets up from the couch and makes his way to you. He puts his hand on the back of the chair, leaning down a bit and squinting his eyes to look at the tiny words on the laptop. Toji feels a bit too dumb when he doesn't understand all of the fancy words you used but your boyfriend can tell you're writing your interpretation of a poem.

“You need to start wearing your glasses.” you murmur, looking at the older man, your head lazily resting on your hand, as he keeps squinting. He scoffs, Toji would never wear those ugly glasses he got. It makes him look stupid, even after the amount of times you denied it and no matter how many times you sloppily made out with him wherever he wore those horrible glasses, a fire suddenly lighting you up when you saw the frames on his face. “Don't come complaining when your head starts hurting again.”

“What you got there that got you stressing out so much?” He decides to ignore your comment, changing the subject to the reason for your stress.

You sigh once more, resting your head on his forearm. “Gotta start writing one of my assessments for one of my classes. The professor is making us write about everything we’ve learned in class with our opinions and academic research to support it. It absolutely sucks and I wanna drop out.” you ramble. Toji’s chuckle has you frowning, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. How about you take a break?” As good as that sounds, you shake your head denying his proposal. “Take a break. Not asking. Sit on the couch with me and relax for a bit.” His tone suggests that you would probably regret your decision if you choose to go against him.

Reluctantly, you get up from the uncomfortable chair and stretch your arms above your head. You feel your back crack from being in the same position for so long and you just want to lay in bed and sleep. Toji places his hands on your hips where the shirt isn't covering, squeezing the flesh as he pulls you a bit closer to him and you throw your arms around his shoulders as you sway a bit from side to side. Toji smiles a little when he hears you giggling, happy that you stopped sighing and stressing for a little bit. “ Should I be an old man’s sugar baby? I’ll share the money with you.” You tease, planting a kiss on his cheek. Toji rolls his eyes at your teasing tone. You lean back a little to look at the man, his big hands placed on your back to support your weight. “I'm starting to think you have a type. Like old men that much, doll?”

“Only one.” You reply, playing with the soft ends of his hair that are almost reaching his shoulders. “Unfortunately my old man isn't a billionaire that will give me a yatch for my birthday.” You press a small kiss to his lips. “I can't complain much though, my boyfriend is really sexy.”

Your boyfriend arches a brow, smirking at your remarks. “Yeah? What can I do to steal you away from that grandpa?” You pretend to think for a bit, a small pout appearing on your lips that Toji wants to kiss away more than anything. “Cuddle with me on the couch and watch a few episodes of a crappy reality show before I start feeling bad and go back to my assessment?”

Toji thinks for a bit. He wants you to relax for a while before you (and himself) go crazy with the constant sighing but you have a gift for choosing horrible shows that have Toji wanting nothing more than to punch the TV. Your boyfriend knows he can’t deny your request when he looks at you and you’re staring right back at him. Even if he had it in him to refuse your proposal, your tired eyes and the way you’re looking at him with so much adoration is enough for Toji to pull you to the couch.

You sit as close to him as you can and pull his arm to wrap around your shoulders. You snuggle comfortably on his side while pressing a few kisses on his jaw and neck that make Toji get goosebumps. This time, he doesn't act all dramatic like he usually does when you’re this close to him. He doesn't tease you or calls you clingy while playfully pushing you away just to watch you crawl back to him. This time, Toji lets you push and pull him until you’re comfortable. He doesn't even complain when he sees you open netflix and select a reality show with a weird name and an obnoxious couple on the cover.

Toji thinks all of this is worth it when you place a small kiss on his cheek and whisper “I love you” before falling asleep five minutes after in his arms.

[minoozi]

LOVE GALORE

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

summary: you meet Chan at a club and things get steamy from there.

word count: 3,579 words

warnings: NSFW, chan is always referred to as Chris, might be ooc?, mentions of alcohol, a lot of kissing, reader gets called pretty, sexual activities in the car, naked humping, thoughts of raw sex, that is all I can remember.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

The blinding lights of the club hurt your eyes when you walk through the door. The stuffy air and loud music hit you full force and you almost feel like turning around and going back outside, where the atmosphere was chillier and less suffocating. Your friend’s hand on yours is what makes you move forward, navigating through the sea of bodies with a quick “Sorry!” or “Excuse me.” being thrown into the air even though no one could really hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand when you reach the bar, immediately trying to get the bartender’s attention to order a drink. In the meantime, you look around the place in hopes of seeing your other friends you were supposed to meet. You suspect it would have been better to meet up outside the club. You shoot up a quick text to the group chat and wait for a response, expecting at least one of them to check their phone. Your friend returns to you with a big smile and a colorful drink in her hand and she promptly drags you to the dance floor, swinging from side to side to the beat of the song. It doesn't take long until you spot your friends and you move from your spot to stand beside them, exchanging hugs and loud words.

You dance with your friends for a bit, screaming lyrics and laughing as they make you twirl and do some silly dance steps. Mid twirl your eyes catch the stranger standing near the wall. He’s not alone, two other guys standing next to him with drinks in their hands and they laugh at something, but he’s staring only at you. The man is cute and very much attractive with dark hair, full lips and big muscles but you don’t stare at him for long, a bit too shy at the intense eye contact but you can almost feel him look at you even with your back turned to him. One of your friends catches your attention and you discreetly move your head towards the stranger behind you. She squinted her eyes in his direction, completely forgetting that she was supposed to be discreet and not completely obvious.

“You should talk to him!” She screams over the music, giving you two thumbs up in approval. You shake your head in horror, denying her suggestion. “He keeps looking at you!”

You want to check if it’s true but decide against it, not knowing what you would do if those intense eyes were still on you. You can’t help but feel a bit self conscious and scared that you were reading the signs wrong. You didn’t want to make a move just to be turned down because he was actually looking at one of your friends. Or maybe he was just looking around, too bored of the party and your eyes coincidentally met. You didn’t have much to lose but you wanted your pride to be kept intact. The rest of the group caught up on what was happening and they too proposed you going to talk to the mysterious man but when you denied their offers, they didn’t push you too much.

You kept having fun with your friends, the time passing too slowly and there were still a few hours to go before the agreed time to leave. Your friend, thankfully, asked you to go outside for a bit, feeling too hot and tired dancing. There’s an open area used mainly by smokers but a few people are sitting on the floor against the wall talking to each other. You and your friend find an empty spot, the rest of the group deciding to stay inside. She sits on the floor, completely ignoring the fact that it’s dirty, and you settle for leaning against the wall.

“You ok?” You ask her just to make sure.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you? We can leave earlier if you’re feeling tired.”

“Don’t worry.” You answer, looking around the place. “The guy inside was really hot. I kinda wish I had the guts to talk to him.”

“He was totally checking you out.” She laughs, looking up at you. “You’re so sexy, you should've jumped on him.”

You shake your head at the thought. “Never. Maybe he was looking at you. There’s no way I’ll embarrass myself.” Your friend replies with a “No way!” a bit too loud that has some people turning to look at you. “I’m serious!”

Your friend starts rambling about all of the signs the man was showing when looking at you, set on convincing you that he was indeed into you and should go for it. You don’t pay much attention to what she is saying, instead only catching a few words from time to time as you look at the people outside. You feel sleepy already - your day was too long for you to be partying all night but you weren't about to leave knowing you could stare at the pretty guy for a bit longer even if nothing was going to happen. You look back at your friend, still rambling about the man being “a pussy” and “doesn't know what he’s losing” as she gets up from her place to start walking inside. You laugh at her passion, your hand already holding hers so you don’t get lost in the crowd. The loud music hits you full force once again and you can tell your friend is still talking but you can’t really hear anything. The woman stops abruptly and you bump against her back, looking over her shoulder to see what happened. The pretty man stands in front of her, a shy smile on his lips as he says something near her ear. Your heart drops a bit and you scold yourself for getting a little bit of hope. He says something to your friend, she laughs and you just want to get out of there. You squeeze her hand before letting go, trying to signal that you were going back to the group standing a few meters away. Your friend quickly turns around with a big smile.

“He’s asking if he could steal you from me for a bit!” She screams over the music. You look at her confused. You? Maybe you didn't hear her correctly. “Was telling me he thinks you’re cute and wants to talk to you.”

“Why wouldn’t he just talk to me?” You ask a bit too loud, making the guy hear you too.

“I didn't want to seem like a creep or come onto you too strong. I don’t know, I’m nervous!” He replies, scratching the back of his neck.

Your friend pushes you closer to him before shouting a “have fun!” before rejoining your group. They’re close enough that they can see you if you need someone to save you and that makes you relax a bit. Still, it’s a bit awkward. The man’s eyes are too intense and you try your hardest to avoid eye contact. Instead, you look at your hands picking at the skin around your nails. A warm hand settles on yours, stopping your actions and making you look at the owner. He gets closer to your ear before saying “I’m Chris. You?” and you feel like you're going to combust on the spot. His hand is holding yours, his eyes are looking at you and you have an urge to just scream. His thumb is rubbing circles on your palm, moving to your fingers and then up to your wrist. He repeats the action multiple times, still looking at you and still waiting for your response but your brain is practically malfunctioning. You manage to say your name without embarrassing yourself further but you believe there’s steam coming out of your head when Chris smiles so sweetly at you and your legs turn into jelly. Your heart is beating too fast, your body is too hot and Chris is too close to you. Your eyes go from his to his lips and you don’t think you have ever wanted to kiss someone as bad as you want to kiss Chris. “You’re really pretty.” You hear him say and you swear you’re about to pass out and humiliate yourself in front of the hottest guy you have ever met. “Wanna go outside so we don’t have to keep yelling at each other?”

You almost want to argue that you haven't been yelling at each other because your brain turned into mush and you’re not talking at all but you still nod your hand and he guides you outside, your hand still holding his. Chris takes you close to the spot you had previously stood with your friend. The cold air helps you organize your thoughts and stop overheating. With the stuffy air inside the club, the proximity and Chris’ breath hitting your neck, it was a matter of time before you passed out.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you since you first walked in.” He admits before his eyes widened and he quickly said “Not that I’m stalking you or anything! I just happened to see you and you’re really beautiful but I was so, so nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever done this but I knew I was gonna regret it if I didn't make a move. My friends were giving me a pep talk and when I saw you come back inside I just went for it. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Don’t apologize, that was cute.” You giggle a little, feeling a lot calmer knowing you weren't the only one anxious. “You caught my eye too, I was just too shy to make the first move.”

Chris lets out a breath. “Good to know. I was scared my rambling was going to push you away and make you think I’m weird.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry, I don't think that.” You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking about what to say next.

Chris’ eyes move from yours to your lips for a second before he snaps back to reality and his eyes move up again. “I’m glad. Are you… are you sober?” Your eyes alternate between his and the tongue wetting his lips. Chris’ hand is still holding yours and he uses it to his advantage, pulling your body closer to his.

“Yeah…” you whisper, not wanting to break the moment. Your throat is dry and you wonder if alcohol would have helped you in this situation. “I’m the designated driver. Are you?” you ask back.

“Drank water all night.” He replies.

His answer is enough to make your lips crash. Chris holds the back of your head with his free hand while yours is grabbing his shirt. His lips are soft and taste a little bit minty - it makes you dizzy. You can't think of a kiss better than this one but you reckon it has to do with the man kissing you rather than the quality of it. It’s a bit sloppy and fast but knowing you’re kissing Chris is enough for this to be the best kiss of your life. He’s the one stopping the kiss first and you mindlessly chase his lips, your eyes still closed. He chuckles and gives you a few pecks. You open your eyes and immediately wish you hadn't. Chris looks even more handsome with red, swollen lips that shiny a little from the lipgloss you had. His hand slides down your body from your head to your waist and you’re as close as possible. Every single thing you want to do to him plays in your mind like a movie and you even get surprised at your thoughts. It’s definitely a first.

For the first time since he talked to you, you let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his neck. His grip on your waist suggests he’s trying to hold himself back, eyes burning with desire. You pull him for another kiss, nails lightly scratching the back of his head as you play with his hair. You push Chris against the wall to deepen your kiss as you open your mouth to welcome his tongue. You don’t think you can go back to living your boring life after tonight and especially not after Chris starts being bold and slips a hand to grab your ass.

“Come home with me.” Chris whispers against your lips, then moving to kiss your jaw and neck.

“Can’t.” You manage to breathe out. “I have to drive my friends home.” You explain, throwing your head back to give him more space. The man sucks a hickey on your neck and hums at your words. “The backseats of the car are really spacious though.”

You don’t know why you were so bold suddenly but you knew you needed some kind of relief. Plus, having sex in the car was safer than going to his house. Right? It didn't matter either way - not when Chris looked at you with those eyes; like he was ready to undress you right there. He holds your hand again and guides you through the still full place until the exit. You manage to send a text to the groupchat informing your friends regarding what is about to happen (texting with one hand was harder than you expected but you’re almost sure they will be able to understand despite the horrible mistakes). When you reach the exit, you guide Chris to where your car was parked and the walk felt longer than you remembered. You unlock your car but Chris claims your lips before you have the chance to open the door. His hands travel up and down your body and you pull his hair a bit to make him stop. The man full-on groans while kissing you and you’re quick to reach behind you to grab the door handle before you decide to just drop on your knees to hear him groan like that again. You open the door and quickly go inside, laying on the backseat with your head propped on the window. Chris gets on top of you, almost forgetting to close the door if it wasn't for your warning. He goes back to kissing you as soon as you’re in the privacy of your car (which wasn't much. Sure, your windows were tinted but you doubt you will be controlled enough that people passing by don't know what is happening). You separate just long enough to pull his shirt off before your lips are crashing again.

“Do you… fuck… do you have a condom?” You ask, breathless, while grinding your hips against his already hard dick.

His eyes widened. “No! I didn’t think I was gonna need it.” He runs his fingers through his hair, making it even more messy. “I can just go down on you or something?”

The thought of Chris between your legs is definitely something and you’re inclined to say yes but, today, you’re focused on both of you. However, you hope you can see Chris again to fulfill the fantasy of having the handsome man pleasing you with his tongue, whether he’s between your thighs or under you while you ride his nose. Right now you have to deny his request, instead unzipping his pants. “We could just… do this?” Your front humps against him and Chris groans, moving his hips.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s fine.” He replies weakly. “Just… hold on, fuck.” Chris grabs your legs to help you take off your shoes and then works to unzip your jeans, sliding them off your legs with a bit of struggle. He pulls his pants and boxers down just enough to take his dick out and your jaw drops at the sight. Chris is pretty everywhere and you mentally curse yourself for not having condoms on you because you could be feeling his dick inside of you right now. One of his hands rests next to your head, supporting his body while the other guides his dick to touch cunt - your underwear being the only thing in between. Chris groans with each thrust, surprisingly vocal in this situation, which gets you to imagine how much louder you can make him be. For the first time in your life, you kind of want to get fucked raw by this guy you just met. Obviously you don’t. Instead, you pull your underwear to the side so you can get more friction. Chris, to your displeasure, thrusts against you rather than into you but it’s the best you will get in this situation. The tip of his cock bumps deliciously against your clit and you cling onto his shoulders like he will just disappear. He kisses you and bites your neck between sweet, groans and then his warm hands are pushing your top up so your bra is on display for him.

“Take it off for me.” Chris pleads and you immediately do as it says. The position is a bit awkward and it takes you a bit longer than normal to take off your strapless bra but as soon as you manage, Chris’ hand is touching your boobs, pulling softly a nipple between two fingers. “You’re so pretty.” He whispers. “And you have the prettiest pussy…” Chris grunts. Your brain almost doesn't process the words coming out of his mouth. The man who was too shy to talk to you had the dirtiest mouth during sex but you would never complain. Not when he looked at you like you were an angel, the prettiest person he has ever seen. “I can’t wait… f-fuck… I can't wait to fuck her.” Chris’ hand slides down your front until his fingers are circling your clit for an extra stimulation. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You think your brain short circuited due to Chris’ words and at the fact that his dick, at times, gets dangerously close to your entrance. “You’d take me so well, wouldn't you?” You realize Chris’ words aren't directed at you and the whiplash you get from the guy you talked to at the party and the man humping you in the backseat of your car is insane.

With difficulty, you find your voice to whimper a “‘m gonna cum. Keep doing it like that.” that has Chris kissing you again. His fingers maintain the rhythm you asked for and it doesn't take long until you cum with a moan of his name. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm and his thrusts get a bit sloppy at the same time. Your hands find his hair, now slightly more curled than you remember seeing at the party and sticking to his forehead. “Are you close?” Chris nods eagerly. You pull his hair a bit, drinking in the way a moan falls off his lips so red and swollen from all of the kissing. Chris thrusts a few more times before spilling all over your stomach with heavy breaths.

Post-nut clarity hits Chris hard. “I am so sorry!” He says with widened eyes. “I don’t know why I said those things.” He looks down at your body, his cheeks getting a cute shade of red that you’re not sure is from the heat or embarrassment. “And I got you all dirty, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. I enjoyed it.” You calm him down but feel a bit shy yourself. “I have tissues in my purse. I think I threw it in the front seat. Can you get it for me?”

Chris looks over the front seat and reaches to grab the purse. You grab the tissues but he stops you and takes it from your hand. You never believed in love at first sight but butterflies are partying in your stomach while Chris gently cleans you. When he’s done he pulls your panties back in place and smiles kindly at you, dimples on full display. You tug him for another kiss, this one slower than the ones you’ve been giving him so far. You both get dressed fairly quickly after you read the clock and realize your friends might show up at any moment. Chris opens the car door, looks around to see if anyone is near and then hops out the car. You get out after and leave the door open to hopefully get rid of the smell of sex. Chris pulls you by the waist to get another kiss and it confirms that you both like kissing each other more than anything.

You see your friends walking to your car when you stop kissing, a bit drunk and laughing loudly at something.

“I have to drive my friends home but… You could come to my house after.” You say quietly, a bit shy and scared that Chris didn’t feel all of those butterflies too and this was a one time thing. “If you want.”

He pulls out his phone from the back pocket and hands it to you unlocked. “Give me your number and I’ll text you so you can send me the address? My friend is gonna drop me off at my place and I’ll just drive to yours when you’re done.”

“It’s late though. Are you sure?” You question, taking his phone and creating a new contact with your number.

“One hundred percent.”

You get teased by your friends all the way but you barely listen to their words, thoughts filled with Chris and the second encounter happening when you get home.

[minoozi]

shion is the type of guy to almost bodyslam you out the way when you're about to open the car door.

[minoozi]

Eros' song

-> Shinichiro Sano x Reader (no pronouns or descriptions)

characters: Shinichiro Sano

genre: fluff

summary: you write a poem as a way to confess to your best friend

warnings: childhood friends to lovers, i wrote the poem so please don't be too mean or i'll cry, also DON'T STEAL THE POEM FOR THE LOVE OF GOD it will be my last reason, the reader is into books, first quote is from Kafka's Letters to Milena and the second is Edgar Allan Poe's Annabel Lee

network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

Shinichiro has been your best friend since your first memory surfaced. From the moment you could process thoughts and emotions, the man has been close to you. Truly, it was a matter of time until one of you fell in love and you happened to be the (un)lucky one.

You were no older than thirteen when the infamous incident happened. Shinichiro (also thirteen and with a really, really ugly hairstyle) looked at you and gave you a big toothy smile, like he always does whenever a cool bike passes by you. Suddenly, flowers exploded behind him, angels sang, the sun shone brighter than it had all day and you found yourself almost squinting and on the verge of throwing up because of the butterflies in your stomach. Metaphorically, obviously.

It was a shame, really. You nearly yelled at the universe for not giving this evil curse to Shinichiro instead but, apparently, the entities above also doomed Shinichiro to a life of rejection. So, you suffered because your best friend didn’t look at you and the man suffered because no girl wanted him.

At thirteen you turned into poetry and all kinds of literature, finding pieces that you related to a bit too much and, eventually, writing things yourself. Shinichiro didn’t understand most of the stuff you read, always questioning what words meant and what was so special about those poems that had you tear up so often. You shared that part of your life with him as well, showing the poems, drabbles, verses you came up with that were messily written in your journal. Fortunately for you and your weak heart, Shinichiro didn’t really understand that most of the things you wrote were about him.

It stayed that way until you were twenty three. You were less naive, more in tune with the feelings that made you want to throw up years ago and definitely in love with your best friend (who kept getting rejected even after changing the horrible hairstyle; the Gods really hated you both). Shinichiro had his own bike shop, a gang that supported him through everything and you. He still happily reads whatever you wrote in your journal and he still doesn't understand half of the stuff you have there but the honest praise and support makes your heartbeat a little bit faster. Shinichiro is there when you publish your very own poetry book, his name deservedly on the first page. To Shinichiro, who was always there for me. As Franz Kafka said “In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out.”

So, maybe, you were a bit too obvious with the whole ‘I love you’ deal but Shinichiro didn't seem to understand all the hints you dropped. Everyone around you seemed to find out about your little secret and some of his friends even went out of their way to let you know he felt the same but you weren't so sure.

“What you writing over there?” the smooth voice of Shinichiro pulls you back to reality, the noise in the shop coming back in an instant. It was almost dinner time and you came into the shop hoping to have a meal with your best friend before going home. Deciding to entertain yourself, you pulled out your notebook and a pen from your bag and wrote some ideas that popped in your head as you stared with heart eyes to the object of your affection.

“Nothing important.” A lie. The words that stared back at you formed, yet again, another finished love poem that you dreamed of showing to Shinichiro in hopes that he would read it and return your feelings. Shinichiro knew you were lying. Somehow he always knew. You refuse to return eye contact when he grabs your pen and doodles mindlessly next to the verses, a routine he acquired when you whined about the pages of your journal being too boring with just words in it. You look at his hands gently drawing small hearts (Shinichiro couldn't draw a heart even if it was to save his family but you grew to love the blob shapes) and a random dog with stars surrounding it.

“Can I read it?” You meet his eyes, tender and sweet, which were already looking at you. Your heart flips, turns and does cartwheels when Shinichiro gives you that toothy smile that makes him close his eyes and you can only let out a small “Sure.” before closing your mouth so you don't accidentally confess.

My soul holds a secret that my pen

Now wishes to share.

In ink-stained lines, my feelings find a home:

Untold to anyone but the Gods from above,

As I convoke Eros to help me compose a piece

That will reach your heart.

But do I dare?

Do I dare trouble the deities with a greedy tone

When I can’t gather the courage

To whisper confessions when we’re alone;

The only witness to my love

Being the moon shining high up

And the paper getting stained with passion.

So sure of my affection yet,

I hesitate.

Do you dare reciprocate these heavy feelings

That only keep me awake at night or

Am I merely a friend that consoles your ego

When things fall apart?

But it’s okay,

For I have accepted the possibility

The harsh, unwanted probability

That I’m doomed to an existence of unrequited love

And a lifeless life

Without the muse who inspires me

To write the most loveful poems and

The most sorrowful verses.

You nervously glance at Shinichiro while he is reading, noticing how his eyes squint and his nose scrunches from time to time (he does it when he doesn't understand something that is written). You pay close attention to his face, the poet in you wishing to remember Shinichiro until your last day if the worst was to happen. A part of you hopes the man will finally understand all of the things you wished to say but weren’t strong enough to. You pray that your poem reaches his heart and soul, that he sees you not only as a longtime friend but a life partner. “Wow.” He sighs, lifting his eyes from the paper to settle on you again. “I’ll never get tired of saying you’re really good.” Shinichiro stands back at his full height, murmuring about back pain after leaning down for so long. You look up at the man who has your world spinning around him, waiting to see if he says something more. He doesn't.

“Is that all?” You ask, playing with the bracelet on your wrist (a gift from Shinichiro when you turned 18). He looks at you confused. His eyes scan the paper again, rereading the verses to figure out if he missed anything. He still looks lost so you grab the pen and, in a moment of courage, you write a few words at the bottom of the poem. For Shinichiro, who I “loved with a love that was more than love”. The handwriting is shaky, giving away the anxiety exuding out of you. Shinichiro reads the additional words, then stops, then looks at you. You get up, not being able to have his body towering you that way. He is standing next to you and, for the first time, you’re not sure about the emotions revealed by his eyes. You wonder if you made a mistake confessing out of nowhere, in his shop, while his siblings and friends are hanging out and the last customers exit. You should have eased your way into the subject but what’s done is done and all you have left is to wait.

“I know I’m not the smartest person…” Shinichiro’s eyes are on you, reading your every move. “But does this mean what I think it means?” You nod, not trusting your voice. His eyes widen and, in a sudden movement, Shinichiro is even closer to you. His hands are on each side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “You wrote a poem for me. A love poem.” You nod again, your movements a bit restricted by the big hands holding your face in place. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Shinichiro gives you five seconds to step back before his lips are crashing against yours. You don't think any poem, book, word could describe what you felt the moment your lips met. It’s fast and a bit clumsy but you couldn't be more happy this happened, unable to control the smile when Shinichiro stops the kiss to look at you. You want to giggle like a young teenager when Shinichiro gives you that smile you love more than anything. “Does this mean you feel the same?”

“Yeah. Have for a while. Couldn't stand the thought of getting rejected by you though.” His thumb caresses your cheek and you find yourself leaning to the touch.

“I would never reject you.” You murmur, embarrassed at such revelation. “You know there’s a quote from Emily Brontë-”

“Tell me about her in a bit.” Shinichiro interrupts you. “I want to kiss you again.”

The next time you write a poem isn't about Shinichiro, your best friend. Instead, you dumped all of the new (reciprocated) feelings about Shinichiro, your boyfriend, and the experiences you get from living with him by your side. Most of your poems were and will probably always be about Shinichiro Sano, no matter the status he holds in your life. You get to love your muse and your boyfriend gets a lifetime supply of romantic poetry dedicated to him (as well as quotes that fit each situation).