#first fic kinda nervous
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୨ৎ i don't know how it began | KA12




starring: kimi antonelli x pr manager!reader in which: you thought your job as kimi's pr manager was stable. great, even— until it gets shaken up by the oldest cliché in the book: a workplace crush. wc: 5.9k includes: unrequited love (or is it), fluff, angst (i guess)?, one-sided pining. english is not my first language! warnings: none! notes: hi this is my first time publishing a fic on here EVER, so apologies if this is like. pretty bad. but oh well we're here now. antonelli nation, please take this as my humble offering of peace, please let me in. thank u

You had no idea how you landed a job as a marketing administrator in a motorsports team. And it wasn’t just any team— you were a member of the Mercedes-AMG team, making you a certified Silver Arrow. If you had told a past version of yourself that you’d be wearing a media pass on your neck constantly and walking around paddocks all around the world five years from now, she wouldn’t have believed you. But here you were, clocking in for another day at work— which just so happened to be somewhere in Bahrain.
The circuit was bustling with life hours before any of the cars had even touched the tarmac. Mechanics were already hard at work, tinkering with the car and giving it the best possible upgrades before this afternoon’s practice sessions. Engineers had their eyes glued to screens with dizzying data about various statistics that you could fall asleep on for hours, and the drivers were just about arriving to the paddock now.
You were a member of the marketing team— specifically the media branch, meaning you handled the team’s social platforms on Twitter, Instagram, and more. Of course, like every other member on the team itself, you were assigned to a certain side of the garage. Although, since you were mainly handling things related to public relations, it didn’t really matter.
Regardless, you waved hello to Bono (who was staring at a screen full of colorful lines that you could only assume were data from the past weekend), as you made your way to the right side of the garage. You were a member of Kimi’s PR team, assigned to manage most of the team’s posts related to him, such as his live updates, pictures, content, and more.
It was a pretty calm job, and one that you liked— he was your age, so the both of you hit it off quite easily. In fact, you could even be brave enough to cross the boundary of professionalism and say that you were friends. Kimi was the perfect person you could work with in your job— he was friendly, wasn’t picky with content, and always went along with any of you and your team’s ideas for him. If you wanted to dress him up in a unicorn onesie to film a few GIFs for the team’s media, he’d agree. Or if you begged George and him to do some silly dance for a TikTok, he’d be the first to agree, while the Brit would look at him weirdly.
You were doing your regular media rounds around the garage: taking pictures of the car, the mechanics, and the engineers who were all busy with work. The weather was definitely in your favor today— forecasts suggested that this weekend would be a perfect balance between sunny and rainy, with the practice sessions having a more than generous amount of sun. It would provide interesting track temperatures, definitely, thereby allowing the teams to push for more distinct strategies and the drivers to collect varying data from Friday through Sunday. Not that your job cared about any of that, though— the sun was merely a helping hand in the aesthetically pleasing photographs you were taking.
You were just about finishing up your final shot of the morning— the W16 and the mechanics crowding at either side— when a familiar figure walks into the frame. Black fireproofs, curly hair, and annoyingly long eyelashes peer into your camera, effectively ruining your angle and the entire photograph as a whole.
You gasped. “Kimi!”
Through your camera lens, he grinned. “Good morning,”
“You just ruined my shot. It was supposed to be for the team Instagram!”
He only laughed, leaning back and circling back around the car. He greeted some mechanics along the way before he turned back around to you, smile never faltering. “Why don’t you just post me instead?”
You frowned. “We already have several pending contents of you. They’re scheduled for later.”
He pretended to sulk, slightly pouting his lips. “That’s no fun.”
You rolled your eyes before glancing back at him in his fireproofs. From where you were standing, it still seemed like a good enough angle. In your head, you could see another photograph form itself.
Then, as if a lightbulb had switched on in your mind: “Kimi, stay there.” You held your camera up again, rotating the lens to focus on the car. You made a gesture to his mechanics to stay still as well, before pressing the button on the side and taking the picture.
It was a shot of the W16, the driver, and the mechanics. Kimi had his head slightly tilted to the side—probably confused from your sudden picture— while his mechanics, Emil and Alan, smiled at the camera, hands still busy with the car itself. The picture depicted hard work, silent dedication, and progress. The kind of emotion that you wanted to invoke in all your photos, and the kind of atmosphere you wanted the fans to feel for this weekend. Perfect for the daily Instagram post, and, if your boss, Charlotte, approved, could be repeated for the post-race photo dump, too.
These were your thoughts as you looked down at your camera and at the finished shot, a smile unknowingly creeping up your face. Your eyes found Kimi’s confused expression, how his brows were faintly furrowed and his mouth slightly agape. It was silly, and you found yourself looking at his pixelated face for a moment too long.
Your mind halts to a screeching stop, snapping you back to reality. The steady hustle and bustle of the garage makes its way back into your ears, while your body shakes under the realization that you’re in the middle of work.
Right. You were reviewing the photos. You were flipping through all the pictures you took in your camera, not in an attempt to distract yourself from the fact that you caught yourself fawning over your driver— but because you were looking at which media to post. Totally.
You don’t even realize Kimi’s presence when he taps you on the shoulder. You looked up at him — was he always this tall? — and said, “What’s up?”
“Can I see the photos?”
Your mind short circuits for a singular second, processing his words a beat too late. You fumble the camera in your hands like it was fire. “Yeah, sure.”
He leans closer to see the photos, specifically the one you took just now. His face was a little too close to yours for your liking— but you had no time to think about that when he speaks— “These look good, can I get a copy of them for myself?”
You blinked. It wasn’t an absurd request, not at all. Your brain was just malfunctioning way too much, way too many times. “Yeah.”
He looked back up at you with that familiar grin. It catches you off guard and practically blinds you so much to the point that you barely hear what he said next. Something about thanking you, you think, but the way he said your name with such gratitude and kindness almost gives you whiplash and sends you to the floor. Even as Kimi walks away to bother Bono for the day, you’re still reeling from those few seconds— and it takes every fiber in your body to stay still and keep your feet planted to the ground.

You don’t know how it started.
Even if you tried recalling your days to try and track just where your feelings towards Kimi changed, you couldn’t.
All you knew was that it was beginning to affect how you interacted with him, and, in turn, your work with him. You were part of the PR team, for crying out loud— it was your job to talk to your driver and to make him likeable— you didn’t expect that you, of all people, would take that literally and end up actually liking him.
It was a nightmare. No one knew, of course; not your friend, Lily, who was Geroge’s PR manager, and definitely not Charlotte. Thinking about what they’d say was enough to instill a feeling of deep despair in your stomach, and that in itself kept you from telling anyone about your dilemma. You told yourself that no one could know. It was a secret that you were taking to the grave— even when you (hopefully) get over him, this was something that was between you and God. No one else.
And you found comfort in that for a while. You thought that maybe this little crush was going to be somewhat bearable— if you just learned to ignore the way your stomach tied itself into a knot every time Kimi greeted you good morning, or when he’d smile at you while you filmed content of him, you’d be fine.
You were not.
Lily, ever the perceptive individual, pulled you aside one day. It was the off week, but work is never done with you both— piles and piles of e-mails, managing the team social media accounts, and tracking posting schedules was something that, unlike the cars and the drivers, couldn’t rest for a few days. Sunday was just around the corner, and the team was bound for Imola next— so this was Lily’s only chance to confront you about this glaringly obvious mystery you were still trying to keep a secret to everyone in the garage.
“So,” She began, stirring her cup of coffee. She asked if you two could meet for some “pastries and tea” earlier in the morning, and you, being a good friend (who desperately needed a break from all the sponsors you were battling with in your Gmail), happily accepted. What you didn’t know, however, was that your trusted confidant had ulterior motives, and that pastries and tea was just her way of coercing you into finally revealing your secret. “You do know it’s obvious, right?”
You looked at her as if she grew another head. “No?”
Lily groaned. “Come on. You’re not even going to defend yourself? Deny it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lily.”
“Seriously? It’s like,” She holds up a croissant, accusatorily pointing it towards you. “Clear as day.”
Deep down, you already knew what she was getting at. It was about your desperate, almost sad crush on Kimi, and how it was practically an open secret that everyone in the team couldn’t ignore for any longer. It was so painfully obvious, yet the worst part about it all was that the two people caught in the eye of the storm— you and Kimi— were both completely clueless.
You thought you were being slick with it. That you were doing a good job at hiding the way your head would immediately turn the moment he enters the room, or whenever he’d greet his engineers and mechanics, your disappointment and sadness would be written all over your face. When you take pictures of him, you’d review all your shots and photographs with a smile that always lingered too long. You thought that the way you’d stiffen up at his smile while you filmed content was going unnoticed, when in reality, it was not.
Meanwhile, Kimi was almost the exact same. He didn’t think anything about how you had practically spiraled and turned into this malfunctioning mess every time he was around: in fact, he thought that you were just… normal. The same friendly and witty PR Manager he always had.
Bono once tried asking him about it out of curiosity— what did Kimi think of you? To which he replied with, “She’s great. She’s fun to be around, and she’s good at her job.”
The entire team sighed that day.
You blinked at Lily then, who just sighed. “Seriously. What’s going on with you and Kimi?”
Your answer was too fast. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Gosh, what do you want me to tell you then, Lily?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, the truth, maybe? That you have a crush on one of our drivers and that it’s painfully obvious and that you should probably stop hiding it because it’s making you look really stupid?”
Her words hit you like a truck. Your mouth fell open, and you try to get some words out— maybe a few statements vehemently denying Lily and her guess (which was spot on)— but your voice failed you and died in your throat.
You could only choke out a small “Was it that obvious?” before Lily began to go on a rant about the pair of you, recalling each race weekend that had passed and how with each passing day, your secret practically spilled out of you like water breaking a dam.
She starts with Miami, and that’s when you realize that you were screwed.
Kimi had made history during Sprint Qualifying and snatched Sprint Pole, which had the team on cloud nine for the rest of the day. Toto was all smiles from afternoon till night; it was almost disturbing to see him that happy. You were happy too, definitely— it was obvious with the way you practically tackled Kimi in the garage after the session, hugging him like he was going to disappear the moment you let go. You were jumping for joy and radiating delight while you took his post-session interview, and, according to Lily, the entire garage could see hearts form in your eyes as you looked at him through your camera.
You buried your face in your hands. “People saw that?”
Lily, who showed no signs of stopping her long-overdue rant, only nodded her head. “Yeah.”
You groaned.
It didn’t stop there. Lily went on and on about the “little” moments between the two of you that didn’t exactly feel little towards everyone else: how you’d become the first person he’d greet in the morning in the garage, or how he’d sit one seat closer near you during meetings in the conference room. In between her monologues, Lily shook her head— in disproval or disappointment, you don’t know— as she sighed. “It didn’t matter what his results were. You were somehow always there with him after each session. Poor boy looked like he was going to crumble if you weren’t.”
At the end of the day, Lily lingered by your apartment door. She looked at you, a complicated expression on her face. “If you’re worried about the team noticing, don’t. Everyone knows already.”
You sighed. “You made that obvious earlier.”
“I know. I’m just saying it so you don’t have to keep walking on eggshells with us.”
You nodded. It didn’t matter if the team knew about your schoolgirl crush on one of the drivers— what mattered was if this was going to affect your work. And you were dead set on preventing that from happening. Lily could see it in your eyes, the silent determination covering the panicked desperation underneath. She trusted you, knew you were capable— you’d get through this.
As you shut the door closed, you sighed. Even if you were determined to not let this get in the way of you and your job, it was getting increasingly difficult with each passing day.

And then came the dreaded triple header. It was a tough three weeks for the team— most especially for Kimi’s side of the garage. He didn’t deliver the results he wanted in all three races, placing last in Monaco and not even finishing the race at all in Barcelona and most importantly, his home race in Imola. The disappointment was clear in his face, and it seemed to grow more and more with each passing day. Bono and the others did their best to comfort him, telling him that Canada will be better. But every time the headlines were written, and the replays were on, the sting came back along with it.
You saw him alone after Barcelona. It was the final race in the triple header, where he failed to cross the line. You were just going to pick up a few things you left in hospitality when you saw him in the deserted room, still in his fireproofs and his head hung low. His curls, still clearly in disarray after taking his helmet off, covered his face and the expression he held. You hoped it wasn’t the one you thought.
For once, your heart didn’t erratically beat in his presence. Instead, a dull ache swelled from your chest as you looked at him. After the high of Miami, to descend into this state of disappointment is something you couldn’t comprehend— but you could sympathize. You wanted to share whatever heavy feeling he had, and so, you walked towards him.
He didn’t notice you at first. Didn’t even look up, not until you took the seat across him. Your voice seemed to pull him out of whatever trance he was in, and he looks up when he heard you.
You didn’t say much. Just the usual things you’d say to comfort someone after a rough patch of some kind. Your feelings were definitely suppressing a lot of the things you wanted to say— "Hey, you’ll bounce back from this, I believe you, and I know you’ll do great” seemed too suggestive of the way you felt for him, so you just settled for something simple: “It’ll be okay”.
You don’t know what exactly you said in those 5 minutes of rambling you did that struck Kimi— but it was clear in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you’d hung the stars for him to see— that your words touched him.
You were still going, talking about how Canada’s weather seemed to be colder and how that might help the car during the race, when you hear him laugh. The sound cuts you off completely, and you whip your head— you didn’t realize you were trying to look somewhere else— back to him. He’s looking at you, eyes slightly crinkled as that familiar grin came back and lit up his entire face.
Your heart skipped. “What?”
“Nothing,” Kimi said, the smile never leaving his face. “Don’t you have content to post?”
You blinked at him, then looked down at the phone in your hands. “Oh. Not really. They’re all scheduled for later.”
“Then why are you here?”
Can’t I be there for the guy I like? You thought, but you shook your head. Kimi took that as answer, and you coughed. “I forgot something. Was just gonna get it, is all.”
He nodded. “Oh, okay.”
And then silence ensued. It was comfortable at first— partly because you both didn’t realize it— but when you did, it became increasingly awkward. You shifted in your seat, looking down at your phone as if it could help you. You could feel Kimi’s stare on you the entire time, and any more time spent under it would most likely disintegrate you.
You cleared your throat, maybe a little too loudly, when you speak up. “I’ll get going now.”
You don’t wait for a response and stand up immediately, walking away like the room was going to explode if you stayed any longer. You’re about to push open the door and leave when his voice holds you still again.
“Thanks.” he said.
You stay by the door for a moment, but you don’t say anything. You hope your presence is enough. And then, you walk away.

After that moment between you and Kimi in Barcelona, things seemed to change. It wasn’t the immediate kind where you woke up one day and your entire world was turned upside down— it was gradual, a silent build up that grew in the background.
It started small. Kimi was still his usual self, greeting you in the morning and diligently following your carefully scheduled media slots and other obligations. But then you noticed it. Lingering looks, warmer smiles, the way he’d stand a little closer to you whenever you were doing field work. You thought you were going crazy at first— but when you asked Lily about it one night, after a particularly long media day where you had to film more content of him than usual— she immediately caught on.
“Oh yeah, I see that, too.” She said, munching on a cookie while her eyes were still glued to her laptop’s screen.
You frowned. “See what?”
Lily looked up at you and said mid-chew, “He’s kind of into you. Kind of.”
Your friend didn’t know it at the time, but her offhanded comment sandwiched in between cookie dough and chocolate chips had torn your entire world apart.
The next few days were nothing short of jarring. Lily’s words seemed to echo in your head every time Kimi would do so much as breathe in your direction, and your entire body wouldn’t know what to do with itself. One time, you were looking at something written down on a piece of paper and absentmindedly asked for a pen. It wasn’t a request directed to anyone— you were practically asking the air, if anyone else. The next thing you knew, a pen was placed beside you, and you mumbled a quiet “thanks” before you began writing. That’s when you hear him say “you’re welcome”, and your hand shook.
While you felt significant relief from the fact that you didn’t have to carry this secret alone anymore, it still left you on edge. Because even if the team didn’t mind— Kimi was a different story. It was like he didn’t know at all, like the little things that would make your heart skip a beat was just normal, mundane routine to him.
To you, the way he held the door open when your hands were full of paperwork was something that would keep you up at night. To him, it was just a simple gesture of kindness and respect. Or when he’d go to hospitality himself to pick up your favorite pastries so you wouldn’t have to— to you, it was a touching gesture that told you that he knew you. To him? A simple favor. Nothing more, nothing less.
You wish you had more time to ponder over this and drown in your misery created by your own silly feelings, but you didn’t. Each day inched closer and closer to the Canadian Grand Prix weekend, which meant more work for not just you, but the entire team. Whatever your feelings were toward Kimi had to wait until the summer break— you had work to do, and so did he.
But even as you landed in Montreal, the hustle and bustle of the paddock could barely distract you from your beating heart. Lily’s words still rung in your head every now and then, albeit appearing in your mind less and less. The garage itself was still at a slow start, with members of the team still warming up for the day. You were with a few coworkers inside an empty conference room, eyes glued to the screen, fingers carefully typing out responses to a mountain of emails that have piled up over the past night.
You’re on your fifth digital composition when you see the door open in the corner of your eye. You leaned closer into your laptop screen then, busying yourself with how to tell this recipient to kindly fuck off for the next five to ten business days. But that’s when you hear the crinkling of plastic, then the shifting of the seat beside you, that you take a curious glance.
You notice the familiar white wrapping of your favorite pastry, along with a drink beside it. And then you look up.
Kimi doesn’t say anything. He just smiles at you as he pushes the food towards your side of the table. “They might sell out of these later, so, I snuck some in for you.” he whispered.
You blinked up at him as the familiar feeling of sickening butterflies began to settle in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him, taking the pastry in your hands. It’s still warm. Hope swells in your chest again, but you swallow it back down before it could properly form. You weren’t going to get carried away. Not now. Not during this weekend.
You’re too caught up in your thoughts that when you look up again, Kimi’s already gone. What’s left is the drink he gave you along with the pastry, and the dull ache that occupied your chest after the hope that you just crushed.

When Kimi ended with a podium finish, you were overjoyed. But since you were part of PR, that meant you had to leave most of the post-race celebrations last— you had to keep all of the platforms updated before any champagne was going to be popped. Still, even as you were hunched over a corner of the garage that was erupting in celebration, Kimi somehow found you.
He was out of his fireproofs now and was back in his regular Mercedes team wear— his hair was still damp from the champagne, yet his podium hat was nowhere to be found. He was radiating that “podium glow” you heard Valtteri talk about once, with wide eyes and a face that had traces of a smile.
You smiled up at him. “Congrats on P3.”
“Thanks,” he grinned, before looking around, and his smile faltered. “Are you okay?”
His words affected you more than it should have. It made your heart skip and blood rush to your ears, and you thank the dim lighting of the garage for hiding the shade of pink that decorated your face. “I’m fine, yeah.”
He frowned then. “You sure? The conference room is empty right now; you could work there.”
You shook your head, settling down into your corner even more. “I like it here.”
Kimi stared at you. His expression was unreadable; he wasn’t frowning anymore, but he wasn’t smiling, either. His eyes bore into you, gaze piercing as ever. Somehow, you return the gaze, and you’re both stuck in an impromptu staring contest for a few chilling seconds before he finally blinks. Then, to your surprise, he moves beside you and settles down on the floor.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
“Sitting.”
You blinked at him, whose face was now abruptly close to yours. You could count his lashes from where you were, or the number of hidden freckles he had on his skin. He looks at you then, breaking the trance his features had on you. His voice is like cold water to your face. “What?”
You almost choked. “Nothing. But like, seriously? What are you doing sitting here?”
He tilted his head before gesturing to the phone in your hands. “Keeping you company. You’re working, right?”
It was as if he just reminded you something so obvious to everyone but you. You suddenly remember the phone in your hands, now shut off from how long you’ve been distracted talking to Kimi. “Oh.”
You tap the screen, and the phone blinks to life once again. Kimi’s still looking at you from your side, but you ignore his gaze and the way your knees are touching as you open Instagram to make a proper caption. Your fingers settle at the keyboard, and you begin to type away.
The both of you sit in silence then: you, working diligently to keep all posts synchronized while trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart whenever you saw him move slightly beside you— and Kimi, oblivious to it all, quietly observing you and the way your eyes squinted at the screen in soundless focus.
You almost found peace in the quiet before he speaks up. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. “What?”
“Have you been ignoring me?”
Your stomach twists. The picture of the W16 on your phone suddenly looks interesting, and you tap random buttons on your phone to try and look distracted. Suddenly, you can’t think of what to answer— or if you should.
Your heart is faster than your mind. “No.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Then why?”
The question is vague. Kimi doesn’t elaborate any further; he knows that you know what he means. You let the words hang in the air for a while, soaking the silence you built together. Slowly but surely, the quiet seeps into the peace— and you watch as his gaze on you lingers, waiting for your answer.
Where would you even begin to tell him? One day, you walked into the garage, and suddenly, he was brighter than everyone else— would you be able to tell him that? That you began to look at him more—not because it was your job— but because you just couldn’t tear your eyes away? All of the small, fleeting moments you had together suddenly felt too big for you, too big for your mind to comprehend and to say out loud.
And then you tell him. “I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t.”
It was true. You didn’t know what you would do and what would happen if you stayed— if you let your feelings linger for too long, you were scared that it would end up causing something inconvenient. Something bad. You were scared of what people would think, how he would think of you if he found out, of so many prying eyes and how they’d view you after it all— it terrified you. So, you pulled away. Slowly, silently, but you never strayed far. You distanced yourself from Kimi, leaving him be in the right times, while still doing what was asked of you.
The rest of the moment is a blur. Eventually, you tell him everything: that you probably like him, but you don’t really know— and that you’re scared of finding out. How it affected you, how you were worried about it affecting him, too, and all the little panicked moments of confusion and sadness in between it all. You told him that you had never expected yourself from telling anyone—let alone him— about your feelings, and that you’d planned to just take this all to the grave when everything “blew over”.
But it didn’t. The feelings that you thought would be temporary and fleeting had grown like a budding flower, watered by the lingering glances you two shared. Eventually, it became too big to handle; like some bothersome force that meddled with your work. You couldn’t look at him the same— you cherished the moments you had together more than before and found yourself wishing for more at the end of every day.
Through it all, Kimi stayed and listened to your crazed ramblings about how to make sense of your feelings. You felt his stare on you, sharp and concentrated. But what you didn’t see was how his eyes softened with each word you said— how you described him and the undisturbed focus he’d carry himself with during races, to how he’d always make sure to thank you after every media slot you had with him, no matter how short or momentary it may be.
You told him about how the pastries he’d give you at the beginning of every day became routine to you. That if he didn’t open the door to the empty conference room, your day wouldn’t start at all. You admitted that, even if you didn’t show it, part of you always waited for him to greet you good morning with a pastry and hot chocolate in his hands.
You don’t even how much time passed when you finally finish (over)-explaining yourself. When you finally stop, you’re breathing hard, blinking away at tears that you didn’t realize had begun forming in your eyes. Your thoughts finally escaped your mind— and now, they’re sitting with you and the guy you liked, and you didn’t know how to feel about that.
You were scared. Nervous. Part of why you kept all of this to yourself was because you didn’t want to know how Kimi would react to any of it— or if he would, at all. What if you were wrong about everything you liked about him, and he was just this ignorant prick who’d disregard your feelings without question? But then, if he was the complete opposite, and if he actually listened to everything you said… how do you even react to that? Those thoughts used to be just silent possibilities settled in the corners of your mind— but now, they’re real. They’re all probable. You’re living in the moment you were terrified of.
And so, you sobbed. You give up in trying to swallow the lump in your throat and break out into quiet, hushed cries as you finally break down under the pressure and actuality of it all. There was no hiding now. You had to face this— your feelings, your future, and everything you were scared of— head on.
You’re used to the cold. You’re used to wailing in silence, hiding the way your body shook with every whimper and tear that fell from your eyes. You thought that this was just going to be another one of those moments, where you’d sit by your lonesome and comfort yourself through your tears.
But Kimi pulled you in. Awkwardly, you thought, given the way you were both seated— but as he wraps both his arms around you and brought you closer to his chest, your tears staining his shirt— you realize that you weren’t alone this time.
Somehow, being in his arms made you cry harder. He held you tight, wordlessly, but his grip was firm. His arms were your anchor beneath the tumultuous waves of your own emotions, and he kept you still amidst it all.
He runs a hand through your hair. It makes you shiver. Then: “You know, I was wondering for the longest time why you wouldn’t look me in the eye.”
You sniffed. “What?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was thinking, like, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt her?”
There’s a tinge of sadness in his voice as he spoke. Like he didn’t want to think of that possibility of hurting you. He continues. “I didn’t know what I was doing wrong— or if I was doing anything at all. You looked sadder with every passing day, and even if I didn’t want to think so, I thought that it was because of me.”
“That’s not true. You make me happy— you always have.” you said.
Kimi laughed. “I’m glad to hear that.”
He pulls you closer. You could hear his heartbeat now, steady but fast. Like yours. You listen to it like a calming melody, closing your eyes to revel in its sound.
And that’s when you realize it.
When you do, Kimi’s voice is like a light at the end of a tunnel. A beautiful revelation, something that gives you hope after spending so long in the dark.
“I really, really am.”
#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli x you#kimi antonelli fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fic#i kinda hate this but its okay#first fic kinda nervous#ka12 x reader#ka12 fic#ka12 fluff#ka12 imagine#noia verse !! ✉ ୨୧
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SPAMTENNA FIC IS OUT ON AO3!!!
this fanfic contains toxic behavior and smut, check the tags before reading!
#first fic kinda nervous#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ao3feed#ao3 author#ao3 link#fanfic#fanfiction#spamton#tenna#mr tenna#spamtenna#spamton g spamton#hurt/comfort#hurt/no comfort#smut#reconciliation#idk just read it#wuh luh wuh#transfem tenna#enby spamton#yeah fuck u theyre woker
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Cakes By The Dozen
s. koushi x reader
Its 4AM. You know you need to get up for work, I mean, it’s normal to have to get up this early to work in a bakery but doing it every day doesn’t make it any easier. So, you turn over, stretch, yawn and fidget until you’re awake enough to drag yourself out of bed and start getting ready.
The day goes as any other would. Your dad greets you with a kiss on the forehead as you trudge into the kitchen and you both get to work making rolls and pastries fresh for the day as your mom organises the display cases in the front. Its gruelling work but you’ve always loved it. The routine kept you stabilised, the kneading of dough was therapeutic, and it was nice to have little chats with regulars on the days that you were stationed behind the counter. Today happened to be one of those days.
After soldiering through the morning rush of croissants and coffees to go and ‘hurry up I have a meeting in 5’s, the inflow of customers started to slow and the atmosphere was nice and quiet, save for the occasional turn of a book or the sounds of typing on a keyboard. It was relaxed, you loved when it got like this, and you could just keep yourself busy cleaning and doing random side work.
The bell rang and you looked up to a familiar face at the door. It was a close friend of yours, Yachi, who often came in during a lull in customers to keep you busy chatting your ear off. (And because you always sneak her a free matcha, but your parents don’t have to know about that.) You two were in the middle of a very interesting conversation regarding the attractiveness of the MSBY volleyball team. She likes the little ginger one. You like the buff owl looking one. You are not the same.
Just before things could get a little too heated in that discussion, you were rudely interrupted by a loud ring of the bell as the door to the bakery swung open and a man with greyish hair barrelled in. A few heads turned and he gave a sheepish grin as he composed himself (well, attempted to after that slightly embarrassing entrance). The heads return to whatever they were doing. The first thing you noticed as he adjusted his cardigan back onto his shoulder is that he was cute. He was cute in that sort of boy-next-door way. Tallish, kind of skinny and with an adorable flush over his face probably from a mix of embarrassment and literally bolting into the shop. You were too busy staring in at awe at the beauty mark stamped just under his freakishly stunning brown eyes to even register that he was talking to you.
“Oh- Uhm, could you repeat that please, sorry?” You managed to sputter out, just about keeping your composure as you brought yourself back down to earth.
“I know it’s a lot to ask but”- He paused trying to find his words, obviously slightly ashamed of whatever order he had just put in that you honestly had not heard at all “the kids you know? They deserve it,” He continued.
“No, I mean could you repeat your order so I can write it into our system.” You responded, keeping yourself surprisingly professional in front of this godsend of a man.
“Oh. Yeah uh- okay, of course,” He fumbled a bit, “120 cupcakes please. 30 chocolate, 30 vanilla and 30 red velvet.”
“Of course!” You replied, cheerily. It was no problem at all; large orders were completely normal so … why was he looking at you so nervously? “When would you like to pick these up?”
“5PM today?” He says with the most guilt-ridden face you think you’ve ever seen.
You look at the clock. 13:57.
Wait.
Oh.
Maybe he isn’t godsent after all.
You didn’t even get time to get out a response before yet another attractive silver haired man barrels through the front door. What is with this today? You actually recognise this one. Lev Haiba. Some sort of famous model that Yachi is low-key obsessed with. You watch her nearly pass out from the corner of your eye. You’re already mentally preparing yourself to deal with confrontation as this particular man has a bit of a reputation of intimidating workers into giving him whatever he wants using his ridiculous height.
“This is atrocious.” He sneered at you though his nose. “My bodyguard picked this up this almond croissant for me about an hour ago. It has NUTS on it! Are you kidding me? Everybody knows I’m allergic to nuts!”
“I- uh- I’m so sorry sir, I can get you a regular croissant if you’d like?” He scoffed at your response.
“A regular croissant? No, get me another almond croissant please. But this time with no nuts.”
You kind of just stared at him for a second. Then looked to Yachi. Then snuck a glance at the other silver-haired man whose name you’d completely forgotten to ask for. They all looked as equally lost as you were. Thank God you weren’t alone.
“Helloooo, anyone in there?” He waved his hands in front of your face, his expression growing increasingly impatient.
“Oh. I’m sorry – What?” You responded, dumbfounded at the request.
“Yeah, you heard me, get me an almond croissant with no nuts. And hurry up about it – I don’t have all day.” You were actually stupefied. Was he joking? You got your fair share of customers that were… let’s just say, below the average intelligence level, but you didn’t expect someone so well known and so confident to be so outrageously idiotic.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that for you sir. An almond croissant has nuts on it – without nuts its simply just a regular croissant.” You answer, keeping your tone cool and professional.
His gaze darkens and he looms over you inching closer and closer over the counter. God damn him being 6 foot whatever. He opens his mouth to speak, probably to spit something to you along the lines of ‘do you know who I am? I am supermodel rich boy Lev Haiba, and I will get what I want!’ But he doesn’t get to say whatever ridiculous line he was about to whip out because there was now a hand on his chest. Gentle yet firm, pushing him backwards away from you.
“Let’s not terrorize the kind and sensible cashier who is just trying to help you, okay” Said… Mr. Sugawara? Apparently. According to his nametag anyways.
“What do you think you’re-!” Lev had tried to retort before he was cut off.
“Uh, uh, uh” Tutted Sugawara in an uncanny ‘teacher voice’ “Let’s calm down and be nice, okay?”
The model grumbled something about being treated like a kid, but he surprisingly complied easily. He took a breath and watched as Sugawara gestured back towards you, for you to continue.
You just stared for a second before realising it was your cue to speak. “Mr. Haiba, almonds are a type of nut, an almond croissant therefore does contain nuts. I will be perfectly happy to give you a free butter croissant but unfortunately, I cannot fulfil your request of a nutless almond one.” You stated and exhaled. There wasn’t much else for you to say so you desperately hoped he would get the message.
Lev looked at you, then towards Sugawara, who gave him a pointed stare, then sighed and admitted defeat.
“I’ll take the regular croissant then” he muttered.
You served him the croissant, gave him your best customer service smile and he left the bakery. Thank God for that. You let out an exasperated sigh accompanied with a ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look to Yachi, before turning back to the man in the cardigan to continue talking about his order of 100 odd cupcakes.
“I am so sorry about that – thank you so much for standing in though, I don’t know if I could’ve gotten him to calm down on my own,” You chuckled, before continuing “Are you a teacher by the way? Random question, you just have a very distinct ‘teacher voice’, if that makes sense?”
The way his eyes lit up at your question almost had your knees buckling.
“Yes!” he replied, seemingly very excited to talk about his profession. “I teach at the elementary school across the street, which is actually why I’m here. My order is for a big surprise party I’m planning for the kids to celebrate the end of their test week, so I understand its last minute and if you want to decline you definitely can, I just thought it would be a nice gesture.”
The way his cheeks still had a light flush over them as he explained made you weak. How could you say no to such a kind man? Such a kind good looking really super cute man? You considered heavily. It would be such a task to get that many cupcakes done in such a short period of time, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. You looked at the clock again. 14:04. You had 3 hours. You would certainly need Yachi to man the front counter while you made them, but you could do it. You would just definitely need some extra compensation for how last minute the order was.
…
No, you couldn’t.
The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even stop them.
“I’ll make them, but you’ll have to take me out to make up for the short notice.”
His jaw dropped slightly, you saw his ears burning red. You vaguely heard Yachi snort next to you, but you honestly didn’t care. You were shooting your damn shot with this cute teacher.
“I- Uh- You know what, sure.” He stuttered out. Flashing you a grin.
“Really?!” You replied, probably way more excited than you should’ve been.
“Yeah,” He smiled “Here, write your number on this,” he said, handing you a napkin.
So, you jotted down your number, gave him a receipt for his order and waved him goodbye as he left the bakery. He turned back again to shoot you a smile that could light up a city after dark.
Oh. My. God.
You turned to Yachi and you both immediately broke into a fit of squealing and jumping together in excitement before you quickly got to work making cupcakes with a ridiculously sappy smile on your face. What you didn’t know was that a teacher had just gotten back to his staff room wearing an equally sappy smile, with a napkin marked by your number tucked neatly in his pocket.
‘Today at 5PM.’
#first fic kinda nervous#this started as just a silly prompt game with me and my sister but like#it turned out so good i had to post it#also i KNOW lev is ooc its just funsies i swear 😣😣#by el#what if i made… a part 2 ;)#sugawara#sugawara x reader#suga x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#sugawara koushi#haikyuu fic
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Once More to See You
“Chuuya. Come to your senses.” Dazai’s eyes looked into Chuuya’s, only to see his own pathetic face reflected back at him. “Our fate will not end in a place like this. Because you and I are destined to-” Before he could finish his thought, Chuuya had mindlessly pulled the trigger. And for a moment, just a moment, Dazai’s eyes, his eyes known for their enigmatic and slightly unsettling omniscient nature, widened in surprise. A man whose eyes looked as though they knew what you were going to say before you even said it, a man whose eyes looked as though they’re always five steps ahead, a man whose eyes never so much as flinched at bloodshed or the desperate pleas of the guilty, had finally come undone at a single careless act of betrayal.
However his aforementioned shock left as fast as it arrived as Dazai’s deep mahogany eyes had lost their ochre luster yet his stepford smile remained. All he could do was let out a wry laugh as the blood from his bullet wound left a single red trail between his eyes. The thought had finally dawned on him. The death he had longed for had finally come. At the hand of his former partner, Chuuya Nakahara no less. It was a humorous thought really. Losing to Fyodor Dostoevsky and being killed by Chuuya Nakahara? Funny. Isn’t it? It’s funny. Dazai echoed in his mind, thinking of years of his youth spent with the man who had just shot him.
Chuuya. So many things came to mind when he thought of his name. Chuuya. He muttered it a few times out loud while gently touching his forehead just to feel his own blood on his fingers. Fragments of his memories rushed back to him along with a cold feeling. A feeling that began to swaddle him like a blanket but was anything but comforting. The cold hands of death began to slowly clasp around his neck. A touch that wasn’t unfamiliar to him. He’s flirted with death more times than he can count. He runs toward the sound of gunshots. He jumps in front of moving cars. He lays on the grass as if waiting for the earth to slowly claim him. But contrary to the notion he falls asleep to, death’s clutches weren’t the sweet release he had hoped for.
As the bullet entered his head so did a thought he had never truly contemplated before. He will never see Atsushi again. He’ll never hear the click of Kunikida’s pen again. He’ll never see the view from his desk again. He’ll never see him again. The man who had shot him. No longer a distant memory to think about on long walks home from work, a sweet memory at the bar to keep him company, a nagging memory reminding him of his past mistakes, a memory he was no longer. He was now forever the man who had killed him.
Because you and I were destined to… what was he even going to say anyway? What were they destined to do? He didn’t even know. But what he did know was he wasn’t going to let it end that way. Chuuya killing him? The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Not once. But the blood on his fingers was proof otherwise. Another wry laugh had escaped his bitter lips. If his smile were to fall, so would he. And he wouldn’t fall here. He knew he wouldn’t. Dazai tried conjuring an image of Chuuya in his mind again but all he could see was his back, turned away from him. He could remember everything about his backside. From the creases in his boots to the wrinkles in his jacket. But why couldn’t he picture his face? He shut his eyes tighter and tighter as if trying to summon his likeness from the depths of his memory.
He always was somewhat worried that from the day he left the Port Mafia without a word, that he would forget what Chuuya looked like. He had intentionally tried everything to forcefully remove Chuuya’s likeness from his mind. The timbre of his voice, the exact orange shade of his hair, the exact blue hue of his eyes, his taste in shoes, the way he walked, and countless other details that have been fondly etched into his brain. Chuuya’s words overlapped in his head as a murky picture of his face had finally managed to appear in Dazai’s head. His wry laughter erupted into loud violent sobs. He slammed his fist against the wall the same way he’s seen Chuuya do it a million times before and clutched his head with his free hand. Water started pouring from his eyes that took him seconds to recognize as tears. He slammed his fist against the wall over and over again. Partially because he refused to die this way and because he still couldn’t picture a clear image of the man who shot him in his head. His sobs transitioned from mournful sobs into desperate howls of pain. Once more to see him… Once more to see him… He gritted his teeth and defeatedly leaned his head against the wall. Once more to see him.
#bungou stray dogs#soukoku#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#fanfic#first fic kinda nervous#yes i wrote this after chapter 109 why do you ask
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letter to my 13 year old self
ft. yuuji itadori!!
cw. lil bit of angst, crying, fluffy, reader is itadori’s girlfriend, insecurity, lowercase intended, mentions of possible burning.
-authors note-
plsplsplspls PLEASE feedback is very much appreciated!! reblogs and comments also help a lot!! my first fic/drabble ever, hope you like it!! xx
moving to japan, or really moving at all at such a young age is bound to be tough. but what didn’t help was realizing just how different you really were.
how your curls would make you stick out in a room full of pin straight hair, how when you did hit puberty it was different from the other girls. you were “too full” in some places, while the other girls stayed nearly flat as a stick. how your sun kissed skin was blinded by the surroundings fair and milky complexion, no matter how hard you scrubbed. you were different, and that was okay. but… as always, progress and growth comes with some off days. days where you feel like your 13 again.
it was one of those days again. where you’d feel too bizarre to be out with how you look. you figured you’d might burn your hair off with how many times you’ve gone over it with the straightener. barely managing to escape a third degree burn, you drop it in shock once yuuji bursts the door to your dorm open, his excitement just making you even more embarrassed.
“baby, gojo just gave us 15000 yen as pocket cha-” he nearly giggled in excitement before looking up from the band of colorful money, seeing you on the verge of breaking down, the straighter steaming next to you. in hindsight, you probably looked crazy, half your hair poorly straightened, eyes red and teary and cheeks rosy and wet. “what happened?” he asks worriedly, his smile dropped as he rushes over to you.
sniffling, you wipe your tears with the back of your hand, looking up at him pitifully. “i-i dunno. ‘m just tired of looking like this, y’know?” you mumble, looking into the mirror of your vanity and picking at your curls. he stares at you, confused, before squishing your cheeks in his big palm, turning your head up towards him. “no, i don’t know.” he stubbornly replies, causing you to roll your eyes. “wouldn’t i look prettier with straight hair? or… or a nice, straight nose?” you elaborate, voice muffled by your cheeks. he blinks at you, thoroughly confused, and even a little annoyed with the thought. “i don’t think it’s possible for you to look prettier.” he truthfully remarks, watching as you nearly laugh, removing his hands from your cheeks and turning your head before he stops you, cupping them again, this time gently and carefully.
“im being serious, y/n. why would you wanna look like those boring ‘ole girls anyways? their skin doesn’t glow like yours. their hair doesn’t bounce with every step, its so boring. even their smiles are boring. why would you wanna be boring when you can be you? and anyways, i literally have pink hair, but do you think im weird? or ugly?” he muses, rambling on about you with furrowed eyebrows and a serious expression.
you nearly burst out in tears again, smiling at his words as you coo his name lovingly, watching as his face immediately brightens with yours. he squishes your cheeks again, smooching your lips with a big “mwah!”, his smile widening as you snicker a “gross!” at his wet kiss. he lets go of your face, hands trailing down to your hands. “you’re different, not weird.” he finishes tying up your hair carefully to hide the straightened pieces, and this time you beat him to the kiss. he wipes your lingering tears with his other hand, pulling you up by the hand and interlocking his fingers with yours, a wide smile on both of your faces.
“now c’mon, nobara said we should spend this money before gojo realizes how much he gave us.”
#first fic kinda nervous#jjk#yuuji x reader#yuji itadori#jjk fluff#angst with a happy ending#light angst#i love laufey#letter to my 13 year old self#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#itadori fluff
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HII GUYSS!!
so..i wrote a fic?
i havent posted it anywhere rn cuz im tbh too scared to post it cuz idk if its any good?? so im posting it here as a test ig,tell me if its any good🥹
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-5xHoh7R_d3DQhA8zG9sYZdhfs8JttFL/edit?usp=drivesdk&ouid=115514912819238964662&rtpof=true&sd=true
oh,and this is layla!! (the protagonist) ↓
#fanfic#i wrote this#i wrote a fic#oc stuff#nightmare sans#nebula#aka swap sans#lust sans#cringe but free#feel free to give me tips#first fic kinda nervous#sans aus
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Soo, I got bored and decided to actually participate in a ship week for once 💀
So here is my (lackluster) contribution to Davron week!
#DavronWeek2025#first fic kinda nervous#well first fic I actually posted online#god couldn't handle my writing swag so he made me a procrastinator with ADHD#I've gotten distracted so many times while writing the chapters
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characters: Lucy Westenra, Mina Murray Harker, Dracula, Arthur Holmwood, Quincey Morris, John Seward
tags: alternate universe - modern / corporate / office setting, power imbalance, no romance, unhappy ending
summary:
She wished they didn’t have to see this, how far she had fallen from her past glory. Unobstructing but eye-catching, seen but not heard. She was an exhibit, a butterfly with its gossamer wings pinned, spread for the audience to admire.
Dracula is a cruel, cruel, man; animalistic in his desire for conquest. Lucy is trapped in his spider web, strung up and trapped in his domain. When a single tug of his thread could slice her throat open, what is she to do but surrender?
#ao3#dracula#dracula daily#lucy westenra#mina murray#mina harker#john seward#arthur holmwood#quincey morris#fanfic#fanfiction#archive of our own#first fic kinda nervous
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The florist shop that would reel Kuroo in every time he spotted it was now nothing more than another store among many in the city. Rows of bouquets were laid out, but it was the jasmine hidden in the corner of the arrangement which stopped him. The familiar scent brought him back to memories of you on your first date with him; you wore jasmine cologne. From that day onwards, he bought you bouquets that reminded him of you the most from that exact shop, and despite this routine having lasted for two years, he struggled to name any flowers besides roses and jasmine – it was pure instinct in how he'd make the decision to choose the right bouquet. In those two years he found comfort in the cologne you wore, though now it felt more like a punch in the gut to him. After staring the bouquet down like it was the sole reason for his heartbreak, he trailed off down the footpath with furrowed brows. Through the window, you caught a glimpse of him from the register. Waiting atop your bedside table was a vase of wilting jasmine from the final bouquet you received from him – you weren’t ready to let go of it yet, and neither was he.
#first fic kinda nervous#haikyuu#kuroo tetsurou#this has been sitting in my drafts for too long#drabble#do jasmine bouquets exist??#the perfume is lust by lush btw
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i have the prologe flt the fic but i lowkeu need a title...

KILL ME NOW
(this is in regards to my Batfam x neglected ocean reader..)
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— will they, won’t they.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader
premise: hoshina soshiro has been hopelessly in love with you for years now. and for the first time, you finally hear him say the words "i love you."
— warnings: down bad + jealous hoshina, modern setting, reader is a kyudo player.
— author's note: little miss says she's going on a break then proceeds to write about hoshina soshiro for all the dying fans (its me, i'm the dying fans.) art credits to @.BByo_chick on twitter.| ~700 words.
“how long are ya gonna keep me here?”
“no one is forcing you to.”
hoshina only clicks his tongue and stares at the dojo walls. his finger impatiently tapping at his chin as he hits crossed leg on the floors. it’s half past 5 in the afternoon now and you have no intentions of going home anytime soon.
“i’m gettin’ bored here,” he drawls, hands stretching over his head as he watches you shoot another arrow with pin-point accuracy that makes his smirk twitch uncomfortably. you’ve gotten too good at kyudo, and it shows.
“then go home,” you reply as you pull the bow back and aim for your next shot. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me to finish.”
but that was the thing: hoshina wanted to wait for you and he always will.
he wants everyone to know that you had him and he’s all you’ll ever need. there was no need for that guy who caught your fall a few days ago—not when he’s been catching you for the past 3 years. he was your guide in the train station every morning, so why do you keep trying to go to the station earlier and ask your junior for directions? hoshina soshiro was always by your side, so why couldn’t you see that?
“i’ll wait,” he murmurs into his hand, eyes looking at anything but at you. “got nothin’ to do at home anyways.”
it was a weak excuse, but it always does the trick. you always relent and let him stay but not without throwing a look over your shoulder that screams “you’re acting strange.” because he was. hoshina, against his will, feels his lips being tugged into a frown whenever you interact with anyone that isn’t him.
that sounds very bad–it is bad in a sense–but hoshina would never dream of taking away your freedom. so he just watches, painfully by the sidelines, with a scoff on his face as another student from a rival school stammers to ask for your number. it was irritating, having to watch everyone throw themselves at you when you’re clearly uninterested.
“what the hell will happen if i’m not by yer side, captain.” hoshina jests as you pack up your stuff and lock the dojo.
“is this about earlier?” you ask with an amused lilt to your voice. “when the new student asked for my number?”
hoshina hated how you always aimed for the heart.
“i have no idea what yer talkin’ about,” he weakly tries to change the topic. hoshina racks his brain to think of something—anything—to help change the conversation, but his mind keeps circling back to you. how you almost looked serious when some guy–who was leagues below you by the way–had the gall to ask you out for a date.
“never took you for the jealous type.” you tease.
“it’s because ‘m not.” he said through gritted teeth, hands balling into small fists against his school bag. “‘m lookin’ out for ya, alright? that guy was a creep. i’m keepin’ yer ass safe from weirdos.”
you looked unconvinced but didn’t comment on his unusual aggressiveness. hoshina let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming to ruffle your hair and pull just a tiny bit closer that would make everyone question your relationship. this was driving him crazy but he couldn’t do anything about it.
“‘m not jealous. get that over yer pretty little head.”
and until you both got on the train and went your separate ways to go home, hoshina soshiro never once let your hand drop to your side. he kept you impossibly close to his side and whispered sweet good lucks into your ear. body so comfortably lax in your presence he was slouching on the train seat so he could bury his nose in your hair.
hoshina soshiro was so unfathomably in love with you.
how could he not love you when you use your own heartbeat to calm his erratic one during every competition? when every hug has his mind spinning with gold and you. every victory is dedicated to your name, and no trophy or medal could ever compare to the feeling of running into your arms and drowning in your praise.
“i love you.” he mutters as you sleep peacefully on his shoulder on your way home. how many years has he been saying it before he lost count? it’s truly just a matter of when you’ll wake up and finally realize it yourself.
he feels the blood rush to his brain as he throws himself on his bed, unable to wipe the image of you smiling as if you had heard him.
© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
#soshiro hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro x reader#soshiro hoshina#kaiju no. 8#kaiju no 8 x reader#first kn8 fic kinda nervous#( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ
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🏀 Title: Behind Closed Doors
Pairing: Paige Bueckers × Azzi Fudd
Summary:
Late-night practices, locked gyms, and the weight of being more than teammates. In a world where eyes are always watching, Paige and Azzi find the one place they don’t have to pretend.
The gym was quiet, lit only by the overhead fluorescents humming softly above the hardwood. Midnight shootarounds were nothing new, but this one wasn’t about jumpers.
Paige leaned against the padded wall, sweaty from drills, watching Azzi from across the court — her form, her follow-through, that stupid effortless way she always made it look like art. Paige wasn’t watching the ball. She hadn’t been for weeks.
“You gonna just stare or actually rebound?” Azzi teased, eyes meeting hers over her shoulder.
Paige smirked. “You know I’m better at stealing than rebounding.”
Azzi raised a brow, the tension between them heavy and familiar — unspoken, electric. No one else was supposed to know. Not the team, not the coaches, especially not the media. UConn was about legacy. Discipline. Focus. A scandal was the last thing they needed.
But Paige? She didn’t care anymore.
She crossed the court slowly, sneakers squeaking, her gaze locked on Azzi. Close now — too close — she reached for the ball just as Azzi turned, their hands colliding.
Neither of them moved.
Azzi swallowed. “We said we’d keep things—”
“Under control,” Paige whispered, stepping in closer. “But you keep looking at me like that, and I forget why.”
Azzi’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled around the ball like it was the only thing grounding her.
“We’re not even supposed to be here alone,” she said, voice low.
“Exactly why it feels so good,” Paige murmured, brushing her hand against Azzi’s hip, casual like it meant nothing — but it meant everything.
The ball dropped. Neither of them noticed.
Azzi’s lips were parted, her eyes flickering between Paige’s mouth and her eyes. “We could get benched,” she whispered, barely audible.
Paige leaned in, her lips ghosting Azzi’s ear. “Then we better make it worth it.”
She kissed her.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t gentle. It was the kind of kiss that had been held back through practices, press conferences, and two too many team dinners pretending they were just teammates.
Azzi pressed back, hands slipping under Paige’s hoodie, nails dragging across sweat-slick skin. The air between them cracked like static — raw, reckless, real.
Paige backed her into the wall, hands planted beside her head. She didn’t care about rules right now. All she knew was the way Azzi was pulling her closer, breath shallow, kissing her like she’d been starving and Paige was the first taste.
There were things they weren’t supposed to be.
But in that gym, behind locked doors, with nothing but silence around them and everything unsaid burning between them — they didn’t care.
Not tonight.
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your lips, my lips (apocalypse) - 18+
satoru gojo x f!reader
summary: if someone told you you'd be screaming out the name of notorious fratboy satoru gojo for a reason other than to berate him, you never would've agreed to come to this party.
content (mdni): nsfw, college au (reader and gojo are both twenty), fratboy!gojo, gojo is an annoying little shit but he's hot so it's okay, fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, dom!gojo, sub fem!reader, praising, dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!) inspired by this fanart by yunonoai
word count: 6.7k
playlist: fluent in bullshit
main masterlist || jjk masterlist || ao3
The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, bodies moving drunkenly against each other to the sound of the music blasting from the multiple speakers around the house. Multicoloured lights were dancing around every surface visible, your face scrunching in disgust as you caught sight of a half naked couple practically eating each others' faces off against a wall. All in all, it was a typical Saturday night for the infamous Jujutsu High frathouse. Red solo cups littered the floor as you manoeuvre your way through the crowd, eyes scanning around for your best friend. Your hand moved to fish your phone out of your pocket, immediately calling her for assistance, because if there was one thing you were good at - it was getting lost and right now you were most definitely lost. However, it seemed like luck was not on your side tonight because of course tonight is the one night she decides to not pick up. A small whine of frustration left you as you craned your head, going up on your tiptoes to continue your search in vain.
“The hell ya cryin’ for?” The deep familiar voice of the living and breathing embodiment of irritation rang through your ears.
Satoru Gojo.
Yeah, luck was most definitely not on your side tonight.
Gojo had been a constant in your life since you were kids, and not in a good way, in fact he was like that pesky fly that kept buzzing around your room at night even though the window was wide open. On top of this he just happened to be the president of the Jujutsu High frat - something he never failed to remind others of, so although it came to no surprise to anyone that he was here, his presence always seemed to antagonise you. The vice president and one of your mutual friends, Suguru Geto on the other hand was much more tolerable compared to the devil's spawn that currently had his arm languidly thrown over your shoulder as he leaned down to talk into your ear. His smirk widens when you roughly shove his arm off your shoulder and he goes to hold his hands up in a show of faux surrender. "Woah easy there princess, what's got you all worked up huh?" You click your tongue in exasperation and turn away from him, "You ever learn to mind your own business Gojo or do you get off on annoying everyone around you?"
The glare you send his way only serves to intensify the smirk on his face, his tongue reaching out to lick his lips before he answers. "Nah not everyone, I only get off on annoying you, get it right y/n." The cheeky tone in his voice makes you groan in annoyance before you spin on your heel and walk away from him, the sound of his grating laughter echoing behind you. 'Seriously what was his problem? Someone needs to teach him how to shut the fuck up.’ The dynamic between you and Gojo has always been an… interesting one. It mostly consisted of him doing everything humanly possible to get on your nerves, from pulling on your hair in kindergarten to throwing scrunched up paper to the back of your head in high school and in return, you used him to learn how to perfect your punches, (which admittedly always hurt him but he'd never let you know that).
“Y/NNN THERE YOU AREEE!” The squeal of your name had you turning around only to become entangled in the long limbs of your best friend, Yuri, simultaneously catching the attention of several others in the room due to the volume of Yuri’s voice. Yuri was the other (more enjoyable) constant in your life, a ball of sunshine who always got a smile out of you since the both of you had met at the ripe age of five. But she could also be a bit… loud, ultimately making you two the centre of unwanted attention wherever you went. “Bitch I’ve been walking around trynna find you for so long. Ugh, I think this is the most exercise I’ve done this whole year.” Yuri pants out once you’ve finally managed to get out of her surprisingly strong hold. You huffed, a small pout forming on your lips. “Yu, don’t be dramatic, it’s your fault anyway. I called you but someone decided to not pick up and then I had to deal with that annoying piece of shit. By. My. Self.”
“You talked to Gojo? Gojo Satoru? Alone? And the room is still intact? Who are you and what have you done to my violent best friend?” The glare you send her way has Yuri giggling, an arm hooking into yours as she drags you upstairs to the room in which the rest of your friend group were currently playing some stupid games. Excited smiles and waves greeted you as you walked through the door, Yuri pulling you down to sit in between her and Shoko. “You two are right on time, we were just about to start a riveting game of seven minutes in heaven.” The sarcasm in Shoko’s tone made you stifle your laughter, head falling onto Yuri’s shoulder, as she gave you a playful wink in response. “Seven minutes in heaven seriously? What, are we horny 13 year olds again or something?” Yuri groaned, her head tilting to rest on top of yours. You hummed in agreement, boredom already evident on your face, “Yeah who’s dumb idea was this anyway?”
Suguru has a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he answers you, "Google's. We didn't know what to do so we searched up 'fun games to play at a party.' " He was met with blank stares until Shoko nearly choked on the puff she was taking from her cigarette at his confession, the room now filled with the sound of laughter and Utahime frantically rubbing Shoko's back in an attempt to stop her from coughing up a lung. "Oh by the way did anyone see Satoru, we can't start without him or he'll start whining. Fucker said he went to the toilet, it's been like twenty minutes." Suguru's voice broke through the laughter as he leaned back onto his hands, head tilting in curiosity. Your mood immediately soured, letting an audible groan at the sound of his name and to make things worse, this was the moment Gojo decided to make an appearance. His presence was overwhelming to say the least, and the fact that he was aware of the effect he had when he walked into the room definitely did not help his exploding ego. Grey hoodie slung over his shoulder, and hands tucked in the pocket of his matching grey sweats, a lazy smirk made its way onto his face, "Hope you guys didn't miss me too much." His eyes caught yours as he sat down opposite you next to Suguru who smacked him up the head for taking his 'sweet fucking time,' resulting in Gojo readjusting the black baseball cap he was wearing backwards with a whine.
His sky blue eyes were shining with mirth as he looked you up and down from across the circle you all had formed, arms crossing and an eyebrow raising up at you in challenge. Your eyes immediately narrowed into slits as you stared him down, unintentionally locking onto the way his biceps flexed across his chest in the black compression shirt he never seemed to take off. He followed your eyes down to his arms, smirk widening as he not so subtly flexed his arms even more, watching in amusement as you try to hide the flustered expression in your face by rolling your eyes and looking away with a scoff.
Shoko cleared her throat impatiently, "Are you two done eye-fucking each other now or can we get this stupid game over and done with?" She asked with a bored expression, looking between you and Gojo with a raised brow. This only seemed to fuel Gojo's amusement, snickering as your jaw went slack at Shoko's words, face twisting in disgust.
"You two. Cut it out. Shoko - you're right and I love you but we don't need Satoru bleeding out on my carpet tonight okay?" Suguru Geto ladies and gentlemen, ever the peacemaker.
Utahime shot up from her spot next to Shoko, hands clapping in excitement as she retrieved a small black bag. "Okay everyone put something in the bag so we can figure out pairings. And thennnn, all you gotta do is go to the storage room next door for seven minutes. Simpleee!" She announced this with way too much excitement for your liking. Once everyone had dropped one of their belongings into the bag, it was simultaneously decided that Utahime would choose her partner first. Eyes scrunched closed, she dipped her hand into the bag, pulling out what was unmistakably Shoko's lighter. Loud hollers and cheers filled the room all the while Utahime sat frozen, face painted a bright shade of red. Wordlessly, Shoko sat up walking towards the storage room next door. Upon noticing that Utahime still hadn't moved, she turned around, tilting her head, a small smirk appearing on her face, "Ya comin' or not?" Let's just say you had never seen Utahime move so quickly in your life.
Seven minutes later, the pair walked back in the room with flushed cheeks and equally red lips that were sporting matching smiles as they both sat back down. Unfortunately for you, it was your turn to pick from the bag. Your hand reached out tentatively, rummaging through the contents of the bag as your fingers latched onto something cold. Pulling your hand out and opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of Gojo’s infamous silver chain pooled into your palm. Silence. Complete and utter silence… that is until Suguru’s dumb ass started cackling like a possessed soul, slapping his knee with tears of laughter gathering at the corner of his crinkled eyes. “I fucking love this game,” His words came out as what could only be described as wheezes, one hand on his chest as he tried to calm his breathing down. Meanwhile, Gojo was still wearing that ridiculous smirk of his, once again eyeing you up and down as you stared daggers into his soul, cheeks puffed out in anger.
“I refuse.” Your words were sharp and precise, arms crossing in defiance.
“That’s not how it works y/n…” Yuri’s defeated voice came out in a whisper next to you.
“Well too bad that’s how it’s gonna work now.”
“Says who.”
“Says ME.”
The sigh being let out next to you indicated Shoko’s clear irritation with your antics as she stands up, dragging you with her by the elbow as you splutter out excuse after excuse. Gojo on the other hand, has been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Your weak protests were interrupted when you were shoved into the empty storage room, followed by Gojo falling unceremoniously onto you, both of you crashing onto the floor. Before either of you could register your situation, the doors slammed shut encasing both of you in darkness. Gojo was still pressed against you, arms caging your head as a result of him trying to break his fall - and as far as he was concerned, he had no intention of getting away from you anytime soon.
"Satoru Gojo get the fuck off me right now" you seethed through your teeth, your palms weakly pushing at his chest in an attempt to shove him off of you.
"No can do sweetheart, I kinda like being this close, don't you?" You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, feeling his hot breath fan across the side of your face as he leaned impossibly closer to you to whisper in your ear. "Oh for fuck's sake Satoru are you fluent in bullshit or something? Get off meeee…" Your words trailed off into a small whine, clearly irritated by his antics but the teasing smile on his face only widened at your words, "Ooo first name basis already huh? This day just keeps getting better. You got a crush on me or something y/n?"
"Shut up Gojo, I hate you and you know it." You hissed out through burning cheeks, and you were struggling to figure out whether it was out of embarrassment or from the newfound fluttering in your heart. "You hate me huh?" His voice lowered, sending a shiver down your spine and you found yourself wishing his lips were closer to yours.
“Yeah, I do. I hate you and your dumb voice and the way you always wear that stupid compression shirt to show off your stupid muscles and I hate your dumb attractive face and the way you're so stupidly tall and-” Your words catch in your throat when Gojo leans down to be face to face with you, his sapphire eyes darkening as they pierced into yours.
“Oh yeah?” The husk in his voice paired with his proximity had you subconsciously squeezing your thighs together, breaths coming out in short pants from your ranting as you stared up at him wide-eyed. "Looks like it's you who's fluent in bullshit sweetheart cos this sounds more like a love confession to me," One of his hands reached up to grab your chin and tilt your face up towards his, thumb brushing teasingly over your bottom lip, making its way into your mouth and pressing lightly onto your bottom teeth - giving you no choice but to open your mouth, embarrassment coursing through you at the gesture. His smirk only widened at the action, his thumb pressing lightly onto your tongue, mind already racing with different scenarios, ‘Hm, maybe another time…’ he thought as he took his thumb away to grab the back of your neck to lessen the gap between you two.
You subconsciously lean into him, your body betraying you in every way. Eyes fluttering shut, heart beating impossibly fast, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You feel the warmth of his palm as his hand rests on the back of your neck, pulling you close, - closer and closer until his lips meet yours in a tender kiss. Your hands travel up from his chest, knocking over his baseball cap in the process, nails grazing his undercut softly, drawing him impossibly closer to you. Fingers moving further into his hair, you pull the soft white strands in a show of desire, resulting in a deep groan being let out into your mouth by Gojo as he presses his hips into yours in retaliation. A soft whine leaves you and you swear you feel him smirk before gently prodding his tongue against your lips. You part them for him, his tongue intertwining with yours in a dance of passion, your own hips now greedily grinding up into him. The warmth from his mouth disappears, his hot breath hitting your neck bringing you back to reality as your eyes slowly open only to find him staring at you with that cheeky smile of his. “Someone was enjoying herself hm?” His voice was gravelly as he spoke, eyes flitting back to your lips every so often. “Shut up Gojo.” You whispered, still very obviously affected from what was possibly the best kiss of your life as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh come onnn, I think we’re past this, say Satoru for me baby.” Twinkling cerulean eyes bored into yours, watching you become increasingly flustered at the pet name. You turned away from him defiantly, refusing to speak but that only urged him on further, voice like dripping honey as he leaned down to speak into your ear. “C’mon sweetheart, you can do it, I believe in you. Look at me and say my name with that sweet voice of yours for me hm?” Gulping, you look up at him with wide eyes and warm cheeks, mouth parting ready to speak, when there's a series of knocks against the closet door, Suguru's deep voice a mere echo in your ears. A loud groan was let out above you as Satoru threw his head back in annoyance, “Ugh, so close. It’s okay princess, I’ll make you scream it soon enough,” he said with a wink as he finally got off of you whilst picking up his forgotten cap from the floor and placing it backwards on his head. He looks down, a hand reaching out to help you up. You take his hand and he pulls you up, biting his lips when you look up at him with those pretty eyes and for some reason he can’t bring himself to look away, both of you forgetting the fact that you were supposed to be getting out of the room.
"Yo Satoru, time's up get outta there." Light floods in as Suguru flings the door open, and your throat gets dry once you notice the desperation darkening Satoru's eyes. With heavy breaths, heaving chests and faces flushed with passion, neither of you seem to be able to look away from the intensity emitting from each other. At this point, there isn't a single thought in your head other than the man standing in front of you, looking at you with so much passion that you fear you'd never be able to look at another man without being reminded of him. The sound of a throat clearing brings both of you back to reality, Surguru watching you with a knowing smirk and crossed arms. Satoru on the other hand, doesn’t even acknowledge his best friend, instead opting to reach for your wrist, practically dragging you away down the other end of the hallway to where his room is. “Fucking took them long enough my god…” Suguru mutters under his breath, making his way back to his room already excited to tell the others about your escapade.
Meanwhile, Satoru has you pushed up against the door of his bedroom, lips impatiently clashing with yours, hands caressing each other frantically. His cold hands had slipped under your shirt making you hiss slightly. His hands continued to make their way up, his thumbs teasingly rubbing your nipples through your bra, your whimpers getting lost in his mouth. Your own hands were gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You feel one of his hands moving down to unbutton your jeans, his pinky finger swiping the skin just above the waistband of your underwear, making you buck your hips needily into him. “Fuck baby, I can feel how wet you are through your panties. Messy girl aren’t you?” He mumbles, nipping your ear softly as his fingers start to tease your slit through your underwear. Your whimpers only encourage him further, pushing your panties to the side, tips of his fingers rubbing your clit. Your body was growing responsive to his touch, leaning further and further into him, face buried in his chest as you feel yourself get impossibly wetter. Soft pants left your mouth, one of your hands shyly reaching down to grab his bulge through his sweatpants making him moan into your neck, your eyes widening when you feel just how big he is. You let out a particular loud squeal when two of his long fingers entered you without warning, body squirming as you tried to adjust to their size. Satoru had resorted to biting and sucking your neck in order to hold back his moans as you continued palming him, your cute little whimpers making him harder underneath your hand. His voice comes out in a growl, eyes now boring into yours, fingers relentlessly going in and out of you, painting stars in your vision. “T-toru…” The whimper escaping you had his gaze softening slightly, “I know baby, I know. Be a good girl for me and take it, yeah?” Your eyes screwed shut as you nodded weakly at his words, the praise making your pussy clench around his fingers.
"Shit baby you're so fucking tight around my fingers, you sure ya can take my cock? I don't think it'll fit in that tight little pussy of yours" He leans down to playfully nip on your ear and there's a taunting smile playing on his lips when he meets your eyes again. A defiant look crosses your face, the need to prove him wrong still as strong as ever, even if he is currently turning you into a brainless mess. "I can take it…" your retaliation would've been much more believable to him if your words weren't beginning to slur, coming out in soft pants. So Satoru did what he knew how to do best.
He teased. Mercilessly.
"Aw my pretty little baby thinks she can take it? Yeah well, you're gonna have to cum around my fingers first if we wanna fit my dick in you sweetheart. But I don't know how much I'm willing to let you cum." His taunts are followed by a cruel curl of his fingers, his knuckles bullying your inner walls, your juices dripping down onto his wrist from how wet you were. You were so so close, fingers clenching around the front of Satoru's shirt, your head buried in his chest as your eyes were scrunched closed in pleasure, small tears threatening to fall from your lash line.
“You fucking dickhead let me cum please,” you mumble out into his shirt, his fingers relentless in their teasing turning your desperation into frustration.
“Yeah? You wanna cum baby? Beg for it.” The words coming out of his mouth were nothing short of torture for you as he stopped his movements, fingertips now rubbing your clit in gentle circles, all the while looking down at you with that infuriating smirk of his. See, usually it would take more than those three words for you to listen to Satoru Gojo of all people, but considering the fact that his fingers alone were making you see stars, it was clear to all what your choice was.
“Please…” you breathe out, face finally coming up from your hiding place in his chest to look up at him with blown pupils, tears still pooled in your eyes and wobbly lips. Gojo’s breath hitched when you made eye contact with him, his throat going dry at the mere sight of your already dishevelled appearance. Fuck, it made him want to ruin you even more so who was he to deny your pretty plea. “Only cos you asked so nicely”, he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping against your lobe, his fingers going in and out in the most toe-curling ways. You felt your eyes roll back as one of your hands clutched the front of his shirt, the other palming him through his sweats, mouth open, letting out what Satoru believed was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard as you squeezed around his fingers, thighs shaking ever so slightly as he continued rubbing soothing circles on your clit.
Satoru’s half-lidded eyes were stuck to you, the image of you cumming on his fingers now permanently etched into his mind. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, a groan emitting from the back of his throat, but of course he couldn’t help himself from muttering yet another cheeky remark.
“You know, for someone who claims to ‘hate’ me so much, you seemed to enjoy cumming on my fingers a bit too much.” The glare you throw up at him would usually have more venom but seeing as you just had what could only be described as the best orgasm of your life (although you would never admit this to his face), all your ‘glare’ did was make Satoru’s smirk widen.
"F-fuck you Gojo,”
"That's the plan sweetheart."
In a matter of seconds, you felt arms snaking under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and dropping you onto the middle of his bed, navy blue silk sheets rippling underneath you. Of course he would have fucking silk bedsheets, rich prick. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when you see Satoru standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you with nothing but lust in his eyes, his tongue coming out to swipe across his lips hungrily as he slowly starts taking that damn black compression shirt off, making a show out of it as he does so. Trust him to be able to turn into a stripper at will. You gulp, scanning him down whilst he makes his way over to you, eyes locking onto the outline of his cock through his grey tracksuits. He’s now on top of you, forearms on either side of your head caging you in, soft strands of white hair falling over his eyes; eyes which he hadn’t taken off you since he locked the door.
“You’re awfully close,” The words leaving your mouth are barely louder than a whisper and he could feel your breath hitting his lips as you spoke.
“Problem, sweetheart?” He whispers back, leaning his face down impossibly closer to yours, his fingers gently snaking in between yours at the sides of your head. You bite your lip in anticipation, “No but it will be if you don’t fucking do something,” the retort leaves you before you could think, impatience radiating off you as you look at him through your lashes.
“Knew you secretly had a thing for me this whole time.” He lets out a low chuckle and before you could snap back at him, his lips come crashing down onto yours, hands squeezing yours essentially pressing you down further into his annoyingly comfortable mattress. He grabs both of your wrists into one of his hands, the other making its way down your hips and into your jeans, tracing the waistband of your panties. Meanwhile, your lips have resorted to leaving small kisses across his jawline, sucking little marks down the side of his neck making Satoru let out a soft whine into your ear. And you decide very quickly that you like the noise he just made so, of course, you bite down onto the junction between his neck and his shoulder, one of your hands leaving his grip and sneaking into the waistband of his tracksuits, straight into his boxers stroking his (very hard) length, causing him to let out a quiet growl, his face buried in your neck.
Evidently, this was his last straw.
Here you were getting up close and personal with his neck and the next thing you know he’s flipped you over onto your stomach, hands dragging your jeans and panties down your legs, throwing them onto the floor carelessly. “Fuckkk I can’t wait to ruin you,” he practically growls the words out as his palm lands a loud smack onto your ass, a squeal of surprise escaping you, your head turning back to look at him with narrowed eyes and you swear you nearly came on the spot from seeing him kneeling behind you, toned abs on full display, that stupid baseball cap still backwards on his head as he admired your half-naked body sprawled on his bed.
“What? I’m only saying the truth” he shrugs whilst ridding himself of his tracksuits, dragging his boxers along, his hard cock springing up hitting the base of his stomach. His hand comes up to stroke it lazily, and you keep looking back at him, your pupils blown wide, almost mesmerised by his actions as he lets out a soft moan when his thumb swipes across his tip. Your body squirms at his actions, the need to feel him inside you growing by the second and he notices, of course he notices his gaze hasn’t been anywhere else but you this whole time. You feel his cold hands grip your hips, a shiver running down your spine as he manoeuvers your hips upwards, “Ass up for me sweetheart,” he mumbles, his knees pushing yours outwards and spreading your legs open in the process.
“There we go, good girl. So wet for me hm?” His sweet mumbles went straight to your core, your pussy getting embarrassingly wetter with every word coming out of his mouth. You let out a staggered breath, feeling him get closer to where you needed him most, the tip of his cock teasingly rubbing up and down your slit, eyes fixated on how your pussy seemed to clench around nothing. “Satoru I swear to god if you don’t- ” your grumble was interrupted by a loud squeal as he finally inserted himself into you with one swift movement.
“Fucckkk you’re so tight, this what you wanted princess?” he groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, his hat falling off his head in the process. The hand that wasn’t gripping your hips reached back to retrieve his hat, placing it haphazardly on your head, a wide smirk gracing his lips as he admired you, your ass still squirming against him as you tried to adjust to his length with soft whimpers leaving your lips. He pulls out, leaving only his tip inside you before slamming himself back in as you whine out a loud “Toruuuu” into the pillow that was currently clutched to your chest, forearms pressed into the mattress to hold yourself up. He starts moving in and out, irritatingly slowly at first, just to antagonise you that little bit more, make you that little bit more needy for him. Because, fuck he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing the mouthy brat that always had a snipy remark for everything he did be at a loss for words, going dumb on his cock when he hadn’t even started fucking her yet.
“Is this what all the girls were raving about? Cos right now I’m incredibly unimpressed Satoru,” you breathe out, a cheeky smile playing on your lips as you turn your head back , eyes finding his behind you. His eyes narrow as they stare back at you, not amused by your taunts in the slightest - so he picks up the pace, hips slamming into you as your mouth falls open, fingers tightening around the pillow underneath you, head falling down to your chest as you try to muffle the sounds threatening to escape you from the sudden pleasure. One hand is gripping your hip so hard, you were sure there would be a mark there and the other is teasingly running up and down your clothed spine.
“O-oh fuck why do you have to feel so gooddd” you pant out begrudgingly, the end of your sentence forming into a whine as your hips moving back in sync against him. “Yeah? Ya still unimpressed? Or should. I. Go. Harder.” Each word was accompanied by a particularly hard thrust, your moans getting too loud for your liking, and you lose all sense of control in your body as you feel yourself move up the mattress with each thrust. The hand teasing your spine bunches the back of your shirt in his fist as he pulls you back onto his cock, “Now where do you think you’re going sweetheart? God, you have no idea how fucking good you look right now.” he breathlessly mumbles out, his voice deeper as he watches you struggle underneath him, your hair splayed out on your back, his hat still on your head, knuckles turning white from clutching onto the pillow so hard and the sweetest sounds leaving your swollen lips. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life, feeling yourself leaking down your thighs and of course Satoru takes note of this, his free hand swiping the dripping wetness from the inside of your thigh with his nimble fingers, moving to circle your clit in slow movements, his thrusts getting faster. “S-so good holy fuck~” you whine out, eyes rolling back into your head.
A snicker escapes Satoru as he watches you fall apart further, mouth open and drool threatening to drip down the corner of your mouth as your cheek is squished onto the pillow underneath your head, your soft whimpers and pants making him want to fuck you harder. He moves his hand from your clit to grab your jaw, making you twist your head to face him as he rudely shoves two of his fingers into your mouth and you instinctively start sucking on them, drool now freely dripping down your chin as he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue in the process. He kisses his teeth in faux annoyance “Tch, messy girl aren’t you?” He taunts, leaning his body down onto yours, his other hand brushing back the hair sticking to your forehead in an almost sweet gesture in comparison to the way he was practically slamming into you, and the cute moment was effectively ruined when he bunches your hair into a makeshift ponytail pulling your head back, his hat falling off your head all while thrusting into you deeper. You let out a particularly loud squeal, muffled by his fingers in your mouth and his smirk widens, repeatedly hitting that same spot with the same vigour as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Fuck you’re taking me so well, such a good girl for me.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, tilting your jaw to the side as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue swirling around yours, his hips never seeming to falter in the cruel pace he’s set out for your pussy. All you could do was whine into his mouth, any semblance of speaking having already left you the second he had put his cock in you and with the way he was hitting that spot inside you, you don’t think you’d be able to speak again. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, spit dripping down your chin as you look at him with clouded eyes and a flushed face.
“Look at you pretty girl, fucked you stupid haven’t I?” he mutters, looking at you with such awe, his hand still gripping onto your jaw as he leans his body down onto yours, his cock now reaching deeper into you as his thrusts start to become harder, your body jolting and your moans getting louder with every move. “T-toru, ‘m close,” I pant out, letting out small sniffles. “Yeah? You wanna come for me?” he taunts, his hips slowing down on purpose, the hand holding your hair pulling your head back further with a harsh tug for his lips to scatter soft kisses and nibbles on the sides of your neck as you nod impatiently, tears brimming in your eyes. Another whine escapes you as you look at him pitifully, pupils blown wide and lips trembling as you become desperate for release, grinding back onto his dick for in need of more friction. He tuts, his hands moving to grip your hips, stilling your movements. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he grits out, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your neck and pinning you down, cheeks squished onto the mattress. “You wanna come, you beg for it like the good girl I know you are, understand?” Tears of frustration were now freely running down your cheeks, your face an absolute flushed mess of tears and drool and the sight of you was enough to make Satoru cum right there and then. He thought he should be getting an award for the amount of self control he’s shown so far. But he was quickly brought back to reality when he heard your precious, albeit muffled, voice whimper out a “Toruuu pleaseee~ please lemme cum”, paired with those pretty big eyes of yours and your pussy walls clenching almost teasingly around him, made him choke back a moan. And when you were begging so prettily, how could he say no to you?
“That’s my girl” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your head before his hips once again began snapping into you relentlessly, the warmth from his body almost lying on top of your back making your head spin. His thumb found its way back into your parted mouth once more, pressing into the back of your bottom teeth, forcing your mouth open further causing even more drool to spill from the corners of your mouth, rendering you a helpless mess underneath him. His free hand slithered its way down to your clit, fingertips rubbing it tantalisingly slowly, your legs were already shaking and his ministrations on your clit made you want to close your legs. Your actions were quickly stopped by Satoru, his hand gripping your thigh pushing your leg further out, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in front of you for dear life at this point. “Keep 'em open,” he hissed out, fingers going back to your clit once he felt your walls squeeze around his dick. “C-cumming Toru~” your words were muffled and barely comprehensible as you babbled around his spit-covered thumb in your mouth. “Yeah? Cum for me sweet girl, c’mon you can do it,” He purred out, the sound of your wet pussy and his hips snapping into yours filling the room. Your jaw went slack, his thumb leaving your mouth to now rub soothing circles onto your jawline as he watched you come undone beneath him, his breath staggering as his self-control was slowly disappearing. “There you gooo, such a good girl. You did such a good job for me baby~” He cooed into your ear, his other hand going gently up and down your spine. “Can you hold on a bit more f’me?” he asks, checking in on you with a soft look in his eyes, and you nod, still dazed from your orgasm. He lets out a small chuckle at the state of you, “Good, cos I’m not done,” he grits out, flipping you over onto your back and resuming his thrusts in you all while looking down at you, his chest glistening with sweat, the front strands of his hair sticking to his forehead slightly. You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes and you bring your arms up tiredly looping one around his neck bringing him closer down to you as the other brushes away the hair from his forehead, mimicking his earlier actions.
“Fuck ‘m so close sweetheart” he whimpers out, his head falling into the crook of your neck as his steady rhythm wavered slightly. “Cum f’me Toru~” you breathe out sweetly into his ear, your hands tangled in his hair as you hold him close to you and Satoru swore he saw heaven when he heard those words in his ear as he lifts his head from his spot in your shoulder, panting out. “W-where do you w-” before he could even finish his question you looked him straight in the eyes and whimpered out your answer, wrapping your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him impossibly closer to you.. “Inside please…” A loud groan leaves Satoru’s lips as he throws his head back at your words. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me sweetheart,” he grumbles out, his hips staggering as he cums, filling you up with his warm load and you stare up at him through wet lashes, clenching around him purposefully just to hear him whimper again.
He collapses on top of you, sweaty chest sticking to your equally sweaty shirt, letting out a huff, mumbling in your ear, “Best. Fuck. Ever.” and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle, running your fingers through his hair gently. “Shut it Gojo,” you retort, biting back a smile when his head whips out of his hiding place in your neck, face contorting into an expression which could only be described as complete disbelief and confusion. “Sweetheart I just fucked you speechless on my cock and you wanna go back to last name basis? Be so for real right now.” Although your face flushed at his words, you burst into giggles at his last statement. Trust Satoru Gojo to still have the audacity to be sassy after sex.
“Sorry Toru~” you purr out, nails grazing up and down the back of his neck.
“Better.” he mumbles out, lips formed into a slight pout as his face plops back down onto your chest.
“So like… you still hate me?”
“Ehhh, guess you’re not so bad after all.”
“Are you just saying that 'cos I made you cum?”
“Yeah.”
“Fucking brat.”
ミ★ notes from star: the ending was a bit rushed but i hope you enjoyed it lovelies!
prettyngeto © 2024. all rights reserved - please do not plagiarise, translate, steal and repost any of my works on any social platforms for whatever reason.
#🖋️𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ‖ 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#anime smut#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#divider by cafekitsune#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru gojo smut#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#first full fic kinda nervous 🧍🏽♀️#i hope y'all like it#IM SCARED
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GIRLS NEED LOVE TOO!

pairing- Fratboy!geto x nerd!f reader
synopsis : Being an absolute nobody in college isn't the best experience. Until you were forced to go to a frat party. Little did you know you would get the best pussy eating experience of your life!
tags : just some small smut :) this is also my first small fic for smut..kinda rusty!
w/c: 568
Suguru Geto.
The man who was absolutely loved by everyone. Always seen at frat parties with a bunch of girls by his side. Almost everybody has had a one-night stand with him, like everybody. Everybody but you. You knew what type of man he was. The type of guy who just likes to have sex all the time. Overall to you he’s a disgusting typical frat boy who thinks he’s the shit.
It’s funny for you to think that about him. Being someone whom barely anyone knew or cared about. Only known for how smart you are and your high GPA. Maybe you just need to be put in your place.
And that’s exactly what Geto did.
The man you absolutely hated with your entire heart is now in between your legs, pressing small kisses to your inner thigh. Now how did you end up in this position? Hell, you didn’t even know the answer to that. Too drunk to even care about anything else, the room getting warmer and smaller. You felt like you were on cloud nine. Pussy pulsing in desperation, your juices forming a wet spot on your panties. His hand moving towards the wet spot, he slowly rubbed your cloth clit in circles.
Letting out small whimpers, the two of you maintain eye contact. Geto lowering his head down to your clit as he dug nose deep. Inhaling your sweet scent, he glanced at you. “Fuck baby you smell so good”, slightly gripping his hair as you push his head more down. “N-need more", slowly grinding your pussy onto his face as he continues to sniff your sweet scent.
"Mmm, be patient sweetheart..", your hips slightly lifting up as he slides down your panties. The sight of your bare pussy and the wetness of it made him go completely feral. Diving straight in, collecting all the sweet juices—circling his tongue around your bud. “Feels s-so good sugu!”, gripping a handful of his hair into your hand as you push his head all the way down to your clit.
His head slightly lifting to make eye contact with you. His violet eyes staring straight at you as he spells his name with his tongue onto your clit. “mmh not talking shit anymore,huh baby?”—you can feel his mouth forming a smirk as he laps his tongue around your wet hole. Teasing the entrance as his thumb rubs your bud.
“You’re still-fuck! y-you’re still disgusting”. He stops and lifts his head, a grin on his face as he rubs small circles on your clit. “Oh?hmm maybe this will shut you up” — his head going back down as he plunges his tongue right into your hole. Letting out a loud moan, he swirls his tongue around, going in and out as his thumb continues to rub your bud.
He can tell that you’re close, your legs slightly shaking as you grip his hair tighter. Fastening the pace of his tongue, gripping your thigh as you attempt to close in on him. “C-cumming sugu!”, your moans getting louder as he stares up at your fucked up state. “F-fuck!”, gripping his hair harder as you grind your hips—releasing all your cum. “Such a pretty girl, so good for me hm”, tongue pulling away from your hole as he leaves small kisses to your clit. Standing up, his hands unbuckling his belt—immediately springing out his cock.
“It’s my turn now sweetheart”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#getou suguru x reader#geto x you#geto smut#jjk suguru#jjk geto#suguru x you#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto smut#first small smut fic kinda nervous!#this man is so fine#jjk smut
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——— ⋆✴︎˚。⋆
“See, everyone talks shit about Courtney Love ‘cause they’re scared of a woman who doesn’t shut the fuck up,”
Smoking with Natalie usually, somehow, leads to her ranting about god knows what.
Today, it’s Hole—Courtney Love, in specific—as she paces around your bedroom, a cigarette resting between her fingers.
You follow her pacing as you sit prettily on your bed, eyes tracking her movements while you try to understand what the fuck she’s on about. Really, you are trying, but she’s just so pretty when she’s passionate.
“‘Live Through This’ came out four days after Kurt died,” she says, pointing the cigarette at you for emphasis. “People were already trying to say she didn’t write it, that Billy Corgan wrote half the songs, or that she rode Kurt’s coattails. But that album? That rage? That was hers.”
You merely nod, trying—and failing—to not let your gaze wander to her lips as she wets them, tongue darting out momentarily.
It’d be so nice to just shut her up and kiss her senseless.
“Like—Courtney could’ve been a guy and they’d have called her a genius. But because she’s messy and angry and wears short dresses while screaming into a mic, she’s a ‘trainwreck’? Fuck that.”
You nod in agreement, “Yeah, fuck that, mhm,”
“No, I’m serious!” She huffs, “They’re all a bunch of misogynistic asshats, and frankly—oh my god, you’re not even listening,”
Your eyes widen slightly. Caught.
“No, no—” you cut yourself off with a sigh, there’s no use denying it. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re so pretty when you’re worked up, Nat.”
Natalie snorts, rolling her eyes, but the grin on her face tells you she’s flustered.
“God, you’re such a dork,” she’s joining you on the bed, grabbing a pillow and whacking you with it lightly, “you’re lucky you’re pretty.”
“Can I kiss you now, or what?” You ask in return, now that she’s finished her little rant. Well, more like had it cut off, but still.
“C’mere,” she rolls her eyes again, but she’s pulling you into her lap and pecking your lips.
✶⋆.˚ ———
based on one of my lasts tumblr post
first tumblr oneshot, kinda nervous
#natalie scatorccio#natalie scatorccio x reader#she’s so gf#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x reader#blurb#Natalie Scatorccio blurb#ficlet#Yellowjackets blurb#I need her so bad#your honor i love her#my music snob gf#first tumblr fic kinda nervous#whatever you say beautiful
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SWEET WEEK
summary
y/n and heeseung have a confusing “friendship,” typically containing the two constantly insulting and arguing with each other. their relationship blurs a line between some kind of friendship and full blown enemies. in all honesty, it’s unclear whether their banter is genuine hatred or playful jokes. both competitive and eager to beat the other in any given situation, y/n challenges him to something near impossible — being nice for a full seven days.
pairing: heeseung x reader
genre: social media au (smau), frenemies to lovers
contains: humor, suggestive scenes, fluff, arguing (obviously), more to come
CHAPTERS
01 - gamepigeon?
02 - chocolate chip pancakes
comment to be added to the taglist!! <3
#I’m back#first smau kinda nervous#enhypen#enhypen x reader#heeseung oneshots#heeseung x reader#smau#enha x reader#enhypen smau#heeseung smau#social media au#frenemies to lovers#enemies to lovers#twitter au#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfiction#series#enhypen oneshots#requests
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