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iuchamjohta · 23 days

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Leave these woman alone ft Yuna

1400 words

Notes: Hi anon thanks for your request, since it’s sent through the request box 😊 here’s a story dedicated for you. Also I will do Yuna justice with a better fic eventually don’t worry! (Yes this is a mix of shade and partial smut i guess) Did'nt proof read this thing cause it aint worth my time. For those who wants to read for the smut you can ignore the first two and last two paragraphs they arent for u but specially for my dear requester XD

First person POV of anon:

My name is Anon. I work a standard 9-5 job and have been doing so for 30 years. I’m a single and have never dated. Everyday I get scolded by my boss but I turn a deaf ear to it , just going through the motion of my routine life. Things however get exciting once I get home. I can induldge in my deepst darkest fantasies.

You see while on the surface, I'm a white knight in shiny armor, beneath that, I'm a self-righteous hypocritical man, living a double life. I've got an entire collection dedicated to Yuna, my ultimate bias, stashed away in a folder on my laptop, hidden deep within a secret folder, safely encrypted with a password only I know. It's my little haven, my sanctuary—a place where I can indulge in my wildest fantasies, free from judgment. I mean, who doesn't have their celebrity crushes, right? But for me, it's more than just a crush. Yuna is my fantasy. She's the one who makes me question my self-control.

The room is dimly lit, perfect for what I have in mind. I pull up a recent fancam from her solo performance.. There she is, in a low-rise jeans that showcased her hourglass figure, strutting across the stage with sheer confidence. The camera zeroes in on her for a solo performance, the lucky bastards in the audience probably have no idea how fucking lucky they are. Her eyes glint with confidence, as if seducing me and sending a wave of anticipation through my body. I bite my lip, feeling my dick twitch in anticipation. It's one of those days when I crave a release, a day dedicated to worshipping her perfect body.

Yuna is everything I want and more. Her magnetic aura draws me closer to the screen as she seductively sways to the music. Every curve of her body is sculpted by the gods themselves. I zoom in, wanting to explore every inch of her, starting from her face. Her huge eyes, her full lips that always look succulent, begging for me to take them. Her skin, pale in complextion that glows under the stage lights. I'd kill to know what she smells like, if she tastes as sweet as she looks. Her long legs they begged to be worshipped.

Her hair, cascading in soft waves, frames her face, occasionally whipping her forehead as she moves, making my fingers itch to run through it, to feel its silkiness between my fingertips. Her crop top reveals just the right amount of skin and her incredibly sexy midriff. They hug her chest tightly. I imagine pinching those rosy nipples, already knowing from countless fantasies that they'd harden instantly. The thought sends a jolt of lust straight to my cock.

The camera follows her every move, and she's teasing the fans mercilessly. She bends down, the low-rise jean - hugging every inch of her toned thighs and plump ass, highlighting the perfect hour glass figure. God, her ass! It's a work of art, rounded and firm, a sight that has me gripping my cock, stroking slowly as I imagine sinking my face into that soft flesh. The way she reveals her cleavage, The way her muscles flex under those jeans makes my mouth go dry. She knows what she's doing, the little tease. Each flick of her hips is a silent invitation to something forbidden.

As the song progresses, so does my hand on my shaft. I can't stop picturing her riding me, those long, toned legs wrapped around my waist. Her abs clench and relax with each provocative move, the sight alone nearly pushing me over the edge. The sweat glistening on her skin, the way it would feel slick under my palms as I hold her hips, grinding into me, fuck, it consumes me. I want to be the reason for her sweat, for her moans.

The performance builds up, and so does my pace. My breathing quickens, mirroring her heavy pants as if we're in sync. I can imagine the lust matching my own as she moves her hair behind her back, giving me a perfect view of her slender neck and the pulse point that makes my mouth water. A collarbone looks so defined and my hands would look so fucking perfect there, pushing her down unto my cock. My cock twitches, the thought of owning this goddess in the bedroom flooding my mind. I want to see her—no, I need to see her submissive side, her begging for more, on her knees, her pretty eyes pleading for me to take control.

I can't resist the urge anymore. I pause the video at the part where she's bending forward offering an eyeful of her cleavage and a hint of her flat stomach. The image fills the screen, letting me examine every detail. From her perfect breast that I imagine running my tongue all over, to her navel, a shallow indent, a tempting destination for my tongue. I'd work my way downward, hearing her whimpers as I trace patterns on her sensitive skin, marking her with love bites along the way until I reach her wet core. With my other hand, I reach for the lube, needing more sensation. I coat my fingers and continue imagining my tongue's path, heading south past her navel to the place she craves attention. I'd tease her, running my fingers through her wetness, finding her clit, driving her wild. And when she's close, I'd sink two fingers into her, feeling her heat, her tightness, while I suck on that perfect neck, leaving my mark. Her moans would fill the room, echoing off the walls, telling me she's mine.

But, Yuna she's a master at denying satisfaction. The clip cuts just as I can see her biting her lip, probably holding back a moan. That's when my stroking gets wilder. I jerk off fiercely, imagining her on all fours, that ass in the air, begging for my cock. In my mind, I'd stand behind her, taking in the view before delivering hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. She loves rough, I know that much. I want to spank that ass, watch it jiggle with each impact, watch her pussy squeeze my dick, milking me.

"Fuck, Yuna," I groan, my vision blurring as pleasure spikes. I see her looking over her shoulder, those eyes half-lidded, knowing she's craving it harder. In my fantasy, I'd tug her hair, making her submit, taking her like an animal. I increase the pace, my balls tightening, then I would reach my peak, exploding with sensation. I come violently, coating my hand and the screen, wishing it was her that I coated instead.

Panting, I lean back, my heart hammering in my chest as I relish the aftermath. The image of her winking at the camera as she says her farewells plays in my head, and I know I'll be back for more—she's my addiction. Cleaning up, a satisfied smile on my face, I wonder if she has any idea the effect she has on me, if she knows she just gave me the best fucking handjob ever. Little does she know, this 'nobody' behind the screen is more than willing to show her how good it could be in reality.

Maybe one day, she won't just be a fantasy, but until then, I'll keep worshipping her on my screen.

Then with this guilty pleasure, I find the need to claim her as mine and "protect" her. Going unto forums, I tell myself I have to put back on my knight in shiny armour image! Telling everyone else to leave all these woman alone especially Yuna.

To me pornography is okay, I have fapped to many of it, nor do I see the need to email all these pornographic companies on what they are doing though more damaging is wrong. Other sexual fantasies are okay, but when it comes to others fantasising about my idols, I have to be defensive since they are my life even though I would never reach them. This is me, a double standard hypocritical white knight, a nameless nobody in my life. Nonetheless, this secret is safe with me, and as long as I live, I shall continue to remain self-righteous on the outside while indulging in my secret fantasies.

Thanks for your request once again! Yes me being an internet troll, anyways not the best smut I have written I apologise. Okay fuck now I actually need to do justice by releasing a proper Yuna fic . Please send ideas for req on Yuna guys a one time offer that the best idea gets it’s fic written on her.

#kpop smut #itzy smut #yuna smut #shin yuna #m reader #female idol smut #female idol x reader #girl group smut

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morinuu · 4 months

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Hello!!!!

I’m so happy to see your requests are open I absolutely love your writing!!

Kyoya x fem reader where they have an arranged marriage because it will help both there parents companies, and Kyoya and reader start to actually have feelings for one another, even though they weren’t sure about marrying the other at first?? Just thought it would be super cute!!

Hope your day/night is going well!!

hiii im so glad u like my work! :3 added a wee bit of angst turnt fluff cus why not. its not exactly what u asked for but i hope u like it anyway!

❄｜kyouya x reader where you're both forced to marry under your families' order. 1.7k words. this doesn't follow the canon for the events after the ouran graduation.

the noiret paced around his room in uneasiness. he knew one day his freedom would be cut short, he'd been waiting for that day, but he also had learnt to have the slightest, stupidest hope that his father's newfound respect for him had changed things.

he wonders, however, how he of all people could have been so naïve.

outside, the fairies of the winter had been drawing pretty little drawings of ice on the edges of his windows, as if to try and distract his racing mind from the events that would unfold the second he got out of his room. he was used to the noise of social events, the people chatter and the pressure of socialising, so this should be nothing for him, right?

right.

he didn't understand this feeling. it wasn't that he necessarily hated an arrangement for marriage, life would go on whether or not it would happen.

looking at the fairies' drawings of comfort one last time, he took a deep breath and exited his room to leave for the wedding venue without a word.

the car ride was uncomfortable. his family had already arrived so they weren't there to talk his ear off and the bride would come some time after than he did as the tradition goes. he had time left to think and contemplate again and again.

he looked down at his tuxedo. the bride requested that if she wasn't able to marry of her own free will, that she at least get to have her dream wedding. not a bad deal, kyouya thought. their outfits had been in matching colours, and both were over-the-top decorated. he felt slightly embarrassed at the outfit, but it wasn't anything too extreme in comparison to what he wore in highschool. the only concern was that his whole family and many important people would be there, though he swallowed that as well, as he'd been doing the entire year of the wedding preparation.

he'd met his fiancée plenty of times in that year. the first time they met was at his university graduation. she was smiling brightly standing next to his sister who rushed to hug him and congratulate him. he remembers her bowing politely and introducing herself, before his father stepped in to explain the situation. he remembers the slight surprise on her face at the lack of comments about his sons' achievements.

the next time they met was at a museum. his sister had advised him to ask her on a date so they could get to know each other. she was intelligent, charismatic, and he couldn't deny her face was pleasant to look at. her interest in history was a plus - at least she had an interesting characteristic.

their second date was a dinner at a restaurant, only the best to serve the ootoris. she'd picked steak and juice - quickly explaining she doesn't drink at the slight raise of his eyebrow. he nodded and changed his own wine order to juice as well. 'you don't have to do that!' she rushed but he assured her he's just being considerate of his fiancée. he never forgot how to be a gentleman.

the fifth date she asked to meet at a commoners' shopping mall to show him around. kyouya wasn't surprised by this. he'd learnt early on from his investigation on potential wife that she'd been adopted into the l/n family due to some sort of an affair. despite it being well-known, the gossip around the situation wasn't very clear, so he decided to wait until she talked about it instead.

at some point down the road, the two had become something akin to friends, and although not very close, y/n claimed she was satisfied with the bond they'd created regardless of its strength.

nine months later, he now is at the altar, bouquet in hand, a performative smile for all the guests to admire - until a beautiful woman comes through with her arm linked to her father's.

the ceremony didn't last long, the after-party however? most guests had already left but the couples' friends continued to act like it was the last day of their lives. the bridesmaids' laughter and his friends' drunk dance moves tired kyouya, but he was having fun, so what's another night sleepless?

a tap in his shoulder by his wife.

"you okay? you seem tired. we can call it a night." she exclaimed into his ear through the music. he'd read enough women's blogs to understand what that meant.

even if he wasn't tired, she was, and that was a roundabout way of telling him. what sort of husband disobeys his wife?

the second they got to their new house, y/n rushed to the bed and flopped on it like a sack. she had no energy to get changed or move, instead asking kyouya 'if they could complete their duties the next day, nobody was rushing them anyway'. kyouya he helped her out of her dress and comatosed with her in peace.

the next morning, nobody bothered to wake the couple. soon they'd leave for their honeymoon anyway. everything happened way too quickly and kyouya didn't know how to handle it. the weeks passed, and he refused to communicate any issues to his wife that weren't work or family related. he felt conflicted, but he didn't know about what. the woman lying next to him was kind, beautiful, clever. what right did he have to complain?

i mean, what did it matter if he didn't feel any connection in bed? why would it matter if she had a disappointed look on her face whenever he had to cut their time short? would it make any difference if he had an heir later and ignored his parents' whines about it? it was a tough thing to do, but each time he failed to satisfy his wife, it felt like a stab in the chest wounding his male ego. so did it really matter that he was away for long periods of time? it was a marriage of convenience, after all, and she wasn't missing out on anything.

she claimed that whatever friendship they had felt like it was dissolving because he 'didn't make an effort'? him? when he's the one working hard to make sure his dad's company doesn't make the wrong decisions? what does she know when she sits at home all day getting princess treatment despite being illegitimate?

"you chose this, kyouya." what?

"you refuse to leave your father's shadow." that's not it.

"maybe if you stood up for yourself, half the issues you're complaining about would be gone!" you're wrong.

he doesn't have free will, he never did. since he was a kid his life had been dictated by those around him, and surely you under-

"you're nearing thirty, kyoya! i'm tired of your self-pity! do something! i'm sick of this!"

it felt like yesterday when he saw his wife in her wedding dress for the first time. back then, he didn't really understand the concept of forever.

yet it had already been seven years.

seven years of obedience. seven years of keeping his head down. seven years of neglecting his wife to dedicate his time to his work. seven years for him to realise he was serving the ootoris. he was never on an equal level.

the issue wasn't his father, it was him. and on his twenty-ninth birthday, a snowy day just like his wedding day, with the winter fairies for comfort, he announced to his old man his retirement from the company.

"i'm sorry, y/n. i'm sorry for everything. let's try again."

you took his hand and embraced him. you knew your husband was broken somewhere inside him. you'd known for years. you'd seen how his family treated him, how they took him for granted. but no matter what you did, how much you pressured him, he only let you see specific parts of himself, and you couldn't help but blame yourself.

you refused to leave his side, no matter how exhausting your marriage felt. you rarely went on dates anymore, he never made the move to touch you, it wasn't marriage, it felt like... a business transaction.

deep down, you knew that that's what it was. you'd considered divorce plenty of times but at the end of the day, even if not your lover, kyouya was your friend. the man whom you ate breakfast with and lied on the same bed with. the man you'd seen you at your worst and gave you strength, and you knew you had to support even if he refused to let go of what was familiar to him. even if he refused his own happiness.

the sobbing man in your arms reminded you of a younger version of him. years ago, on your third anniversary when he'd planned a trip to chongqing because he remembered you saying you always wanted to go. during your two week stay, he got wine tipsy at dinner and eventually drunk by nighttime, spilling feelings he'd kept to himself for years.

he'd kneeled in front of you, furiously crying in your lap as he held your legs tightly, begging you not to leave because he could feel himself changing and neglecting his personal life.

you'd carried him to bed and admired his face as he fell asleep, naïvely thinking that this was just a rough patch and he'd go back to putting effort in just like he did in chongqing.

but the years passed and he proved to you his fears were legitimate.

"sure, let's try again kyouya." you patted his back when he held you in even tighter. "but this time we're trying counselling, okay?" you giggled, trying to light up the mood.

he pulled back and gave a tiny smile when you wiped his cheek.

"whatever my wife says." he caressed your hair. "let's stay married, okay? i don't want to lose you."

he didn't say the three words, but that was okay. it didn't matter much. romance could wait, because you knew you loved him more than a woman in a cheesy romcom would. you loved his soul, and you wanted nothing more than to see him bloom.

"let's stay married, kyouya. happy birthday."

it was a new beginning for the both of you and you had nothing but time on the horizon.

#ohshc #ohshc fanfic #ohshc kyoya #kyouya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori #light angst #ouran host club #ouran high school host club #ohshc x reader #marriage of convenience #arranged marriage #fluff

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orchidniins · 7 months

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Do you write for George? If so can we get some smut💋 Loved your first, btw!!!

Island Loving | George Clarke

Summary: You and George are away on holiday, enjoying your time together, but you two can't seem to keep your hands off of each other. Pairings: George Clarke x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 4.6k A/N: Anon, thanks for the request! This took me so long to write, like I had planned to get this out 2 days ago, but oh well. This is also my first attempt at writing smut so I apologize if it’s a bit awkward. Also, this was originally supposed to be maybe 2k words, but I got carried away. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"You sure what I packed is enough?", you ask, rummaging through your closet, tossing clothes haphazardly in your attempt to pack for the hot climate.

"You've about packed the whole closet", George remarks, lounging on the edge of your bed. You shoot him a deadpan look as he continues, "We're only going to be there for three days, how many more clothes do you need?" he teases. "Didn't we just go shopping like a week ago?"

"Oh, piss off George," You playfully throw the shirt in your hand at him, hitting him square in the face, which earns a laugh from both of you. In that moment, a rush of gratitude floods over you for the amazing three months you've spent together. From spontaneous adventures to lazy Sundays in bed, every moment with George had felt like a dream and you truly felt like you were the luckiest girl.

You and George were friends before you started dating, and while you've been on group trips before, this would be the first time it's just the two of you. So when George surprised you with tickets to the Maldives for your birthday, excitement and anxiety swirled within you.

"You know what? I give up," you declare, throwing your hands up in defeat as you survey the chaotic scene in your closet.

As you start picking up the scattered clothing, George chuckles and joins in, the laughter lightening the mood. Despite the nagging feeling that you might have forgotten something, excitement bubbles within you at the thought of uninterrupted time with George. Both of you had been busy, making this getaway a much-needed break. And let's face it, having a shirtless George around all the time was a definite bonus.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, you and George lounged in the pool, the cool water providing relief from the day's heat. Earlier, you had spent the day exploring the stunning beaches of the Maldives, George's laughter echoed through the air as you both raced each other along the shoreline, the warm tropical breeze tousling your hair.

It was late afternoon, as you relaxed in the pool, George's toned physique glistened in the fading sunlight, his abs defined and glistening with droplets of water. He looked effortlessly handsome, and you couldn't help but admire the way the sunlight danced across his chiseled features. Leaning back against the edge of the pool, you watched as George swam towards you, his crystal blue eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "I could get used to this view." His words were accompanied by a playful grin, and you couldn't resist teasing him in return.

"Is that so?" you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you swam closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. George's gaze softened as he drew nearer.

"Are we still the only one's here?", you question, scanning the area. You had been the only ones around the pool for hours now; the last few people leaving over two hours ago. George's gaze doesn't falter though, remaining fixed on you.

George closes the distance between you, the gentle rippling of the water drawing your attention back to him. An inaudible gasp leaves you mouth at the sensation of a hard muscle pressing into the space between your thighs, sending a wave of heat surging through your body.

His hands find their way around your waist, pulling you irresistibly closer, while his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your fingers trace the contours of his toned chest, feeling the warmth emanating from his skin. The tension between you was palpable, each breath charged with desire as you both leaned in for a kiss, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both in a haze of longing and heat.

The heat of the pool seemed to intensify as your lips move in perfect harmony, the throbbing sensation between your legs growing more intense with each passing second. Despite the empty pool area, the possibility of an unsuspecting guest or hotel staff member stumbling upon your heated makeout session added an exhilarating edge to the moment, igniting a daring boldness within you as you contemplated just how far you could push George.

You trail your hands down his chest, savoring the sensation of his hard physique beneath your fingertips. George responds with a bite to your bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from you.

Your right hand moves down to rest right at the hem of his swim trunks, frozen there for a moment as feel George's lips disconnect from yours and attach to your neck instead. He begins to roughly suck at the soft, supple skin at the crook of your neck, leaving a dark red mark in the process.

You continue to tease him, relishing in the reaction he was giving you. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds of the deep guttural groans that escape his lips as your fingertips brush over his clothed cock. His groans get louder as he feels the constricting cloth of his swim trunks rub against his erection.

Your palm rubs harder at the bulge in his trunks, driving George absolutely crazy, and he hadn't even gotten his cock out of his trunks yet. George's grip on your waist gets tighter, his nails slightly digging into your side, the slight pain makes you wince in pleasure.

With a smirk playing on your lips, you pull away, moving your hand away from his cock and placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away gently. Your flushed face betrays the mix of afternoon heat and the arousal coursing through your body.

George protests, his voice husky with desire, "Don't test me, love."

You look at him innocently, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "What are you talking about? It's getting late, and we have other things to do. Come on," you say, slightly moving back in the water.

You turn around and confidently walk to the ladder, pulling yourself out of the pool giving George an enticing view of your glistening skin and the curve of your ass in your skimpy bikini bottom. You make sure to look back at him over your shoulder as you grab your towel and walk off, completely unfazed, leaving George hard and needy in the pool.

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The rest of the day had flown by quickly, and now the two of you were getting ready to go out for your birthday dinner. You were all but expecting George to get you back for the scene at the pool, but so far, nothing ha happened.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup. You were absolutely in love with your look; You had on a midi-length blue silky dress, its low back and plunging neckline accentuated your figure exquisitely and the thin fabric was an absolute god send in the hot Maldives' climate.

Meanwhile, George leaned casually against the bathroom door frame, already dressed in a linen shirt and a pair of olive slacks. His intense gaze followed your every move. To him, you looked nothing short of a goddess, and he still couldn’t believe how the hell he had managed to pull you.

“You look stunning tonight Angel”, George says as he walks into the bathroom, coming to stand behind you. Your dress did not leave much room for the imagination, or a bra, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch you. As great as that dress looked on you, he thought it would look even better pooled around your ankles.

“Thanks Georgie, ” you replied, leaning closer to the mirror, focused on your eyeliner.

As George’s hands come up to rest on your hips, you straighten up, your exposed back coming in contact with his firm chest. The proximity makes you aware of just how close he had gotten. You look into the mirror for a second, catching George’s eyes locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled lust.

It was a look you knew all too well. That hungry look was all you needed to know that George was extremely horny right now and that was enough to send the blood rushing down to your bundle of nerves.

Whenever he got like this, he tried to get as close to you as humanly possible, craving any form of physical touch. And when he called you "Angel", you knew there would be no reasoning with the man, especially after that stunt you had pulled earlier today.

His hands start moving up and down your waist, sending shivers down your spine. Though you had no intention of missing your reservation (which was very hard to get, by the way), you still wanted to see what else you could possibly get away with.

You lean down again, this time to put on your lip liner, subtly pushing your hips back ever so slightly more than before. You become acutely aware of the growing hardness pressing against your ass and his grip on your hips becomes tighter, confirming your previous suspicion.

George leans forward, brushing your hair to the side, and starts to gently pepper kisses along your back, the sensation leaving a delightful tingle through your body.

You stand up again, pretending to go through your makeup bag, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression on your face. Suddenly, you hear George let out a low chuckle from behind you. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "I know what you're doing," before placing a a few kisses behind your ear.

As George's warm breath tickles your ear, a delightful shiver courses through your body. He turns you around, your back pressing against the counter, his intense gaze locking with yours. A charged silence fills the air, thick with anticipation and desire.

"You've been doing this all day," George murmurs, his voice heavy with want. "Be careful there angel. Don't tease me if you can't handle the consequences of your little game." Your heart races at his words. With a subtle smirk, you lean in closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

He takes hold of your chin, tilting it upwards, the warmth of your skin under his fingertips sending a jolt of electricity through his body. You meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes, your voice dripping with playful defiance as you taunt, "Oh, and what consequences might those be, Georgie?" Your hand rises, fingertips lightly brushing the flesh revealed by the unbuttoned shirt, teasing your boyfriend further.

You run your hands down his clothed abs, settling right above the hem of trousers. But before you could move down any further, he places his hand over yours, halting your movements. "Well, let's just say," he begins, guiding your hand to place it on the counter next to you while you grip his shoulder with your other hand "keep testing me and you might just find out."

A surge of eagerness courses through you at his words, and you playfully roll your eyes, trying to mask the effect he has on you. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you challenge, though your heart races with excitement.

With a devilish grin, George leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "Why don't you stick around and find out?" he murmurs, the air between you crackling with tension.

"I'd love to, but we have a dinner to get to," you say, slowly pushing at his chest, not wanting George to get his way so easily. But then, As George pulls you closer by the waist, your breath hitches, your back arching as you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. "Nice try." Before you can protest, he closes the distance between you, his lips engulfing you in an intense kiss, fueled by the tension building throughout the day.

He hoists you up onto the counter, his movements assertive yet gentle, as he deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth and your hands move up to tug at his hair. You feel George's low groan reverberating through the kiss, adding to the intensity of the moment, all thoughts of dinner slipping away from your mind.

His lips travelled down to your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses along the sensitive skin, each kiss only intensifying the need to want his lips someplace else. He kisses the hickey he had left earlier that day, sucking a little extra hard on the already sore skin. A moan louder than you intended left you lips and you could feel the bastard smirk against your skin.

His hands bunched up your dress, almost hiking it up to your waist, as George dug his fingers into the soft exposed flesh of your things. His fingertips traced a slow antagonizing path towards the place you needed him the most. As his fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, he remarks with with a smirk, "Already soaking wet, are we?", The mere friction through your underwear was enough to weaken you, turning you into putty in his hands.

You hum in response, bucking your hips forward, craving more friction and pressure against your aching core. “Slow down there angel, I haven't even gotten started with you yet." he says in a low voice.

George gently lifts you up and slides your panties down to your ankles, taking them off and throwing them to the side, the cool air now hitting your exposed cunt. Suddenly, George's hands grip tightly behind yours knees, spreading your legs wider, pushing you back, your back now hitting the sink. "Fuck," you gasp, as he starts kissing his way closer and closer to your core. Each kiss and bite on the skin of your inner thighs intensifies the anticipation, making you wetter than you already were.

George's gaze fixates on your glistening wet cunt, his pants getting tighter just at the sight. With a hungry determination, his fingers spread apart your slick folds, "George…fuck," you moan as his tongue licks one long stroke up your throbbing clit, your entire body shivers involuntarily.

His tongue dives into you swollen clit, nipping and sucking at your sensitive core, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body, absolutely wrecking you with just his mouth. He flattens his tongue, expertly lapping at your folds, alternating with rough sucking motions. The sensation ignites intense pleasure throughout your body, and the friction of his beard against your clit sends electrifying waves coursing through you. As you throw your head back in pleasure, your hands glide down the collar of his shirt to grasp onto his back, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders, eliciting a low moan from George.

The lewd sounds of him absolutely devouring your pussy mix in with your gasping breaths filling the bathroom with an intoxicating symphony of desire.

"I-I…" you manage to gasp, your voice shaky as you struggle to form a coherent sentence. Your body trembles from the relentless jabs of his skilled tongue against your clit.

"Can't hear you love," George's murmurs from between your thighs, the vibrations causing a delicious hum to resonate through your folds, intensifying the pleasure pulsing within you.

"God, George! I'm so close," you stare down at him, utterly aroused by the sheer amount of power that this man had over you. You're dangerously close to the edge, feeling the impending release of your orgasm ready to spill over at any moment.

He could feel your legs trembling beneath his fingers. The dirty noises spilling out of you pretty mouth only pushed George to continue abusing your cunt. As he listens to you writhe and moan in desperate need, it's not enough to simply pleasure you with his tongue anymore; he wants more. He wanted to make sure you were fucked out properly, especially after the ordeal you had put him through.

With one final lick to your clit, he pulls away, leaving your pussy trembling. George then places his arms on the counter on either side of you, leaning in to meet you at eye level. You stare at him panting, cheeks flushed and a dumbfounded look on your face. "George.." you whined his name at the loss of contact, the cool air once again hits your now neglected cunt.

"Alright then, angel, get yourself fixed up", he says, his voice dripping with playful authority as he points in the direction he tossed your panties. "We have a reservation to get to." With a teasing smirk, he walks off into the bedroom. "Go on, finish getting ready, I'm waiting.", his words hang in the air, leaving you in a state of both frustration and arousal. There was an ache in your core that could only be satisfied by his touch.

You contemplate for a second, weighing if your pride was worth the sexual frustration for the rest of the night. It didn't take you long to make the decision, "Oh for fucks sakes George", you exclaim, your annoyance evident as you roll your eyes and scream out in frustration, "Get back in here, you wanker!" You wait for a moment, anticipation building, before George came back into view, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That's not how this is gonna work angel," George's words send a shiver down your spine, "If you want it, beg." the command in his voice igniting a fiery need within you. Pushing yourself off the counter, your legs shake as you step onto the cold bathroom floor. George watches you with a proud smirk, his eyes gleaming with want.

You slowly pad over to him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as you approach. Meeting him just outside the bathroom, you reach out, placing a hand on his chest, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you look up at him with hooded eyes. "George, please…" you begin, your voice thick with desire, but he remains silent, waiting for more.

"George, please… fuck me," you plead, your words dripping with longing as you meet his gaze. The air thick with tension between you two.

Your desperation draws a satisfied smirk to his face. He would have loved hearing you beg for longer, reveling in the power it gave him over you. However, the undeniable arousal stirring in his pants demanded immediate attention, and at this point, he couldn't resist the urge to simply lose himself in the act of fucking you.

George's lips attach to yours in a sense of urgency. He grabs onto your waist as he pushes you against the wall. "Jump," George says. Without hesitation, you obediently wrap your legs around him, your body responding instinctively to his dominant tone. His hands slide beneath your ass, supporting you effortlessly as he kneads your flesh. The kiss is raw and primal. Your hands instinctively come around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.

The strap of your dress slips off in the heat of the moment. George seizes the opportunity, pushing the dress further down, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden exposure, sending a thrill through your body.

His hands trail up to cup one of your tits, giving it a firm squeeze. George attaches his hot mouth to your bare breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple. You moan in response, your back arching instinctively as you press your tit into his face, craving more of his intoxicating touch.

"George…" you gasp between heated kisses, "I need you right now." With a sense of urgency, you unbutton his shirt. As his shirt falls away, your hands freely roam his body, tracing the lines of his muscular form before settling on his large biceps, feeling their strength beneath your touch. George leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "You have no idea how much I've been craving you all day" he murmurs, his voice filled with hunger.

"Just fuck me already," you plead, starting to get more and more impatient. With a swift motion, George gathers you in his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the bed.

George lowers you down on the edge of the bed, your lips still locked in a fervent kiss. He reluctantly beaks away, feeling your lips chasing his, not ready to break your kiss just yet.

With a tender touch, he assists you in removing your dress, which had become bunched up around your waist. He steps back a bit as he begins to unbuckle his belt, you eagerly help him, your fingers unbuttoning his pants and discarding them to the side, leaving him clad only in his boxers.

Your eyes can't help but wander to the bulge straining against the fabric, his cock hard and throbbing with desire, a visible wet spot on his boxers from the precum. With a soft moan, you find yourself unable to resist reaching out to trace the outline of his arousal, your touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

He nudges you back slightly, and you eagerly comply, crawling further onto the bed, the desire to have him close reaching its peak. As you sit up on your arms, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with mutual appreciation and desire. George's gaze shamelessly roams your naked body, his admiration evident in every lingering glance.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on Y/N," George says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. But to you, he was the epitome of beauty itself. In the dimly lit bedroom, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the windows, George looked like a Greek god, his sculpted abs, broad chest and shoulders, and thick, toned legs rendered him utterly irresistible. While it wasn't the first time you had seen him naked, it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect he truly was.

With his eyes locked on yours, George takes his boxers off, his hard cock springing out, finally free from its confines. The tip red and glistening with precum. He takes it in his hand and gives it a few good pumps. George then strides over to his open suitcase, retrieving a condom with a sense of relief that he had packed a whole box. He rips open the packet and slides it onto his length.

With a hungry gaze, he crawls onto the bed, making his way over to you. With a firm yet gentle touch, he pushes your legs apart, settling himself between them, ready to indulge in the passion that awaits.

He rubs the tip of his cock along your soaking folds, "George", you moan out at the sensation, hands digging into his biceps, urging him closer. George's mouth trails along your collarbone, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses that send tingles of pleasure courses through your body.

Without further warning, George slams into you in one powerful thrust, eliciting a strangled groan from your lips as euphoric bliss floods your senses. As he bottoms out inside you, pausing momentarily to let you adjust to his girth, a wave of pleasure washes over you. Even though he hadn't started moving yet, you already felt your orgasm on the brink of spilling over.

George grabs ahold of your hips, his grip firm as he presses your body against the mattress, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The pace of his movements drives you crazy, your mind consumed with the overwhelming sensation of him inside you. "Holy shit, George," you moan out, the intensity of the moment turning you into a trembling, moaning mess.

Hearing his name on your lips sends George into a frenzy, his own desire matching yours as he speeds up his pace, each movement becoming more urgent, more primal. Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles turning white from the force of your grip as you surrender to the pleasure that consumes you both.

One of your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, drawing him closer to you as your hands come up to his back, pulling him close. You revel in the feeling of his weight pressing against you. As he thrusts faster against you, your whimpering moans fill the room.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N," George moans, his voice laced with lust. "You take me so well, such a good girl." he moans. His words have you involuntarily clenching around him. The sensation elicits a groan from George, the pleasure of your tightness driving him closer to the edge as well.

The sensation builds with every thrust of his hips, each movement edging you towards your orgasm. "George, I'm going to c-cum, shit," you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless plea. Despite your impending release, his thrusts don't cease, his intensity driving you wild.

You can't think straight anymore, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. "Fuck, please, I can't take it anymore… I’m so close," you whimper, pulling closer to the blissful release that only George can provide.

Your voice quickly begins chanting his name along with broken moans, intermingled with George's own broken groans as his thrusts start to become sloppier, signaling that he too was teetering on the edge.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your back arching as you're overwhelmed by your impending release. "Fuck, George, you feel so good inside me… George, ahh!!" you cry out, your release a raw moan as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, leaving you seeing stars.

George continues his relentless pace, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. As your climax peaks, George follows closely behind, his release filling the condom with warmth as he screams out your name in pure pleasure, "Shit, Y/N!" The room fills up with a mixture of your moans as you both come down from your highs.

With that, George collapses over you, balancing his weight on his arms to ensure he doesn't crush you. Both of your bodies are covered in sweat, chests heaving against each other. His face nuzzles into your neck, and for a moment, you both stay quiet, just listening to the pounding of his heart—a melody to your ears.

You're the first to break the silence. "I should tease you more often," you say with a playful grin.

George pushes up to look at you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he replies, "Don't even think about it, love." With a gentle motion, he pulls out of you and lands next to you.

With a contented sigh, George pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, his hand gently playing with your hair. "Did you have a good birthday love?" he asks softly.

You look up at him and smile, "Yes, I did, Georgie. Thank you" you reply, placing a peck on his chest, feeling warmth spread through your heart as he sweetly kisses you on your forehead.

"Well, there's no way that we are going to be able to make it to our reservation," you laugh, acknowledging the obvious.

George chuckles in agreement, then asks, "Room service?"

You look at him and nod, "Room service."

The two of you spend the rest of your evening cuddling and enjoying your dinner overlooking the water from the outdoor seating area of your villa. The soft glow of the moonlight casts a romantic ambiance over the scene, creating a perfect backdrop for your special evening, knowing that you couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday with a more perfect man.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: God, I suck at endings. I've been so stressed at work recently and all I can think about is going on vacation, it's all my brain let me write about. Also, Thank you to everyone who has been sending me requests, I'm absolutely loving all the ideas, keep em' coming!

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

#george clarke #georgeclarkey #george clarke smut #youtuber smut #smut #chaos crew #chaos crew smut #george clarke imagines #georgeclarkey smut #george clarke x reader #arthurtv #ChrisMD #arthur hill #arthur frederick #chris dixon #george clarkey

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gisellecnz · 9 months

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Cherished moments.

(≧∇≦)/ Sypnosis. This is after your wedding with satoru. Your honeymoon together.

•Contents. Pure fluff, just fluff, reader is fem, gojo crying cuz your too pretty, cuddles

•note. I'm kinda new to writing + I'm new to tumbler, and english isn't my first language. So I'm sorry if my writing is kinda off, p.s if someone made a similar fic, please don't misunderstand. That might be just a coincidence, the moment I saw that picture of gojo (the one I used above this post) that inspired me to write a fic about it. Also, credits to the owner of the drawing! I just saw it on Pinterest and I don't know who the artist is.

It is now 11:48pm, it has been a long day and is probably one of your best days of your life. You are now married with the man of your dreams, the one and only Satoru Gojo.

6 hours ago was your wedding, the moment you started walking down the aisle, Satoru was in tears. You were also in tears, but Satoru was more emotional. You found it cute how his eyes were red and puffy after, you wiped his tears as you brushed your thumb over his wet lashes. You've done this before but now it felt so much more different- you've felt alot of butterflies in your stomach as satoru opens those eyes of his which you've adored a lot since you were in highschool. They were so pretty, they were as blue as the ocean.

You also couldn't believe you now have Satoru's surname. You are now called as Mrs. Gojo.

In Satoru's pov, he couldn't hold back his tears from seeing you. You were so beautiful, he thinks you were the most prettiest woman that has ever stepped into earth. His heart raced with anticipation, the way your pretty smile was illuminating the room, and how your veil was delicately flowing over your face like a cascade of dreams. The way your gown trailed behind you, your eyes sparkled with so much love and joy as you looked at him. He swore that if he was stuck in a time loop in this situation, he wouldnt get tired from it.

After you and Satoru exchanged your vows and said your "I dos", your friends: Shoko, geto, yuuji, Megumi, Tsumiki, nobara gathered for a group photo. Along side with that there's a seperate photo of you and Satoru kissing from the wedding. They are now framed, sitting on the lamp table beside you.

Right now, you are lying down on a hotel bed. Satoru made sure to book in a very luxurious hotel for your honeymoon. (It's also canon that he's rich rich)

You were very tired. Today was so much fun, you exchanged your clothes to a more comfortable one, which is why you are wearing satoru's shirt right now. It also has his scent in it which is why you always preffered to sleep in his clothes.

And there, your love of your life came out from the bathroom. He just took a shower, his fluffy white snowy hair is now wet. AND DAMN his towel was wrapped around his waist, his abs were showing. You've seen it a lot of times already but you just couldn't get used to it. Your face was now pink.

Satoru laughed at your actions, you were so cute. He dried his hair and changed into his clothes, he got into the bed and snuggled beside you.

"Tired, hm?"

Satoru layed down his head to your chest, he loves lying down there, he loves hearing your heart beats and the way your breasts were squishing his cheeks.

"Mmn, yeah."

You chuckled as you gave a kiss to his forehead, your fingers combing through his fluffy hair.

He looks at you with pleading eyes, looking like he wants something from you.

"More kisses- please?"

You gave a kiss to his cheek and his lips. "Gosh, so clingy as ever."

You said as you chuckled and smiled at Satoru. But suddenly you gasped as he rolls you over, making you the one on top of him now, laying down on his chest.

He gives you that cheeky smile, "I love you so much y/n, I literally couldn't hold in my tears back from seeing you in that wedding dress. "

You were about to say something but he cuts you off by kissing you in the lips. And starts saying one of the most sweetest things to you.

"The most-" a kiss on your forehead. "Gorgeous-" a kiss on your nose. "Prettiest-" a kiss on your lips again. "Sweetest-" a kiss on your left cheek. "Girl I've ever met. " a kiss in your right cheek.

His actions made you tear up, hes so sweet. But he wasn't expecting you to react like that.

"Hey, why're y' cryin? Don't cry." He frowns as he pulls you closer to him and gives you one last kiss to your forehead. You chuckle and tell him that's it's okay.

You both finally fell asleep, embracing each other. You will cherish this day forever.

note: I'm sorry if this is short and it's rushed plus again I'm sleepy and it's like 3:14 am, I'm gonna sleep now cuz I'm finally finished 🥰

#gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fluff #pure fluff

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helisesposts · 2 months

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His Jersey

♡ hey guys this is my VERY first time writing any kind of fan fiction, so don't hate on me. sorry in advance for any grammar issues or misspellings, also please note: I do not know how Nico acts/ behaves in real life, this is purely fiction straight from my dirty ass brain so do with that what you will.

♡ pairings: nico hischer x fem!reader

♡ warnings: smut after the cut, established relationship, cursing, use of y/n, praise, slight degradation, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, aftercare, fluff, lmk if I missed anything!

♡ wc: 1.7k

Sadly, you couldn’t attend the Devils game tonight to support your longtime boyfriend, Nico Hischer. However, you did get to watch him play on the TV, and as always he played amazingly. The Devils ended up winning 4-2 against the Penguins.

You’d put on one of Nico’s spare jerseys that you found in the closet. It would be fun to surprise him by wearing it and nothing else, you thought. Walking out of your shared room to pour yourself a glass of red wine, when you heard a shuffle at the front door of your apartment. As you set down your glass. “Y/n,” Nico said kicking his shoes off and setting his gear down by the door. “In the kitchen,” you responded. As he made his way to you, your pulse quickened with anticipation. Suddenly, his footsteps stopped and you turned around.

You were greeted by Nico leaning against the entryway with his arms crossed, checking you out, “Enjoying the view, Cap?” you asked. Just looking at him made you want him, still even after a year of dating. He still managed to take your breath away with his beautiful features. “Mhm hmm” he mumbled in response while his eyes trailed your body. “You're beautiful, baby,” Nico said as he pushed off the wall towards you. You smiled in response. As he entered your space he put his arms on either side of you, trapping you between the counter and him. “You played so good tonight, Nico,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne filling your senses.

“Yeah, you think?” his voice deeper than it was before. “Don’t wanna talk about the game right now, I’m more interested in this.” placing his hands on your hips and dragging them down to the hem of his jersey, “Hmmm, what about it?” you teased looking into his eyes. You could see the lust in his eyes, pupils blown wide. Your words put a smirk on his face because he knew what game you were playing. He knew what you wanted. “Are you wearing panties under that angel?” he asked as his hands trailed your body down to the hem of his jersey. Your breath hitched as his fingers started to draw patterns on your hips, you shook your head. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Use your words, Y/n”.

“No,” you said innocently watching him breathe out heavily in response. You felt his grip on your thighs tighten which caused a slight whimper to escape you. “Fuck,” he said before kissing you. The kiss was hungry and filled with desire. Nico tilted your head up slightly so he could deepen the kiss. Your hands traveled up and down his abs before making their way to his erection. He was so hard and it turned you on even more. He moaned into your mouth as you palmed his erection. He pulled away panting, trying to catch his breath, he looked so fucking good. You needed him in you or on you soon. Nico need you too. He dragged his hands up to your folds, slightly teasing your clit. You let out a whimper. “Fuck Nico, please-” you begged “Need you so bad.”

“Look at you baby, so wet and begging for me.” he chuckled as he started to rub your clit. “So needy, aren’t you?” he continued to stroke you with his fingers at an unbearably slow pace. You needed more, you need his fingers inside of you. Pumping in and out. Over and over again until you reach that unbelievable peak of pure bliss. “More,” you huffed out. Nico let out a small laugh “More what? Got to use your words, sweetheart.” you whine in response. He’s making you work for it. Secretly, you love to work for it. However, right now? You don’t.

“You know what I want,” you say, adding an emphasis on the fact he knows. He’s just fucking messing with you. “Please, Nico,” you beg. He considers your words and his increasingly uncomfortable erection in his pants. Which you guess is enough because he picks you up by your hips and carries you to the bedroom. He sets you down on the mattress slotting his body inbetween you legs. “Gonna be so good for me, Y/n” he asked while kneeling down and slightly lifting his jersey up revealing you to him. “Yes,” you said almost shaking with anticipation.

Nico could feel your excitement and anticipation practically radiating off of you. Which put a devilish smirk on his face. He brought his tongue up to your clit, licking a small strip up causing you to let you to moan. “Such a pretty pussy, baby,” He mumbled, then continuing to lap and suck on your clit over and over again bring you closer to the blissful peak. You couldn’t help but stick your fingers in his hair, “Fuck nico,” you whined. You were getting close and you needed to come soon. “Please, please, please,” you begged, you didn’t care how desperate you sounded. “I know sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so good for me.” Nico praised, “Such a good girl,” He continued. Your boyfriends words were brought you dangerously close to your release.

Nico knew that too because you were beginning to squirm out of his grip. Removing one hand from you thigh to hold your hips down. He brought his free hand down to your entrance, teasing you before pushing his finger inside you. You let out a strangled gasp as he slowly fucked you with his tounge and fingers.

Nico began to pick up his pace fucking you faster. Your head spinning because of the sensations he was giving you. You felt the coil in your stomach continuing to grow tighter and tighter, .“Mhmm, gonna cum- fuck” you cried out. A wave of ecstasy flooded over you and you saw stars, you whimpered as nico continued to fuck you through your high last longer.

When you came down from your high you loosened your grip on nico’s hair finding him staring up at you in awe. “So good, neeks,” you huffed out as you tried to catch your breath. “So pretty when you cum for me like that,” Nico confessed. He absolutely loved to watch you fall apart because of him. He love it more that it was just him could make you feel like that. “You got another one in you angel?” he asked. Your eyes went wide because you realized he hadn’t cum yet and you nodded shyly. He just smiled and leaned down connecting your lips again. You could taste yourself on his soft lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. You felt Nico grind is cock against your pussy. You let out a small gasp because your clit was still senstive,”Sorry,” Nico as he pulled away from the kiss. You knew he wasn’t actually sorry but he said it anyways.

You watch as he tugged off his shirt and step out of his pants. He was standing in nothing but his boxers now. You felt your skin heat up and a rush of need down your spine as you watched him drink up the sight of you. Your legs open and pussy wet and ready for him. He groaned a little. You put all you energy into stand up pressing your body into your boyfriend and pulling him down into another heated kiss. He fights you for control but ultimately he ends up winning. Once more you find your hands at his clothed cock. You find the edge of his boxers sticking your hand in to stroke him. Nico stops you quickly though.

Spinning you around, your backside against his chest. You could feel his hard length up against you ass and let out a shallow breath. “Still gonna be good for me, okay” he whispered in your ear as he guided you back to the bed. Nico bent you over the mattress and kicked your legs farther apart. You and Nico weren’t known to have sex strictly in missionary position but it was your guys favorite, so you knew he was riled up when he bent you over. Nico pulled his cock out of his boxers and lined himself up with your pussy. Before he pushed into you he asked you if you were ready for him. To which you said yes.

You and Nico both let out a moan as he started to thrust into you holding your hips so tight. His motions slow and control. “Faster,” you begged as you began to climb that mountain of emotions again. Nico obliged your plead for release because he needed this too and who was he to say no. He’d give you anything you’d ask for, even the moon. The erotic sounds of his skin slapping against your skin added to your pleasure. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, sweetheart.” Nico groaned. He moved his hands to grabbing your wrists holding behind your back.

His praise went straight to your pussy, clenching around him again. A deep moan falling from his lips. “If you keep doing that im going to cum, Y/n” he huffed. You giggled because its a little funny you have to admit. As he continued to pound into you, your breath quickened as you approached your sweet release “Mm soooo close.” you whimpered, clawing at his grip on your wrist. It felt like your pleasure began to override your senses because your legs started to shake and uncontrolled moans left your lips. That coil had snapped and you came all over Nico’s cock. He fucked you through your orgasm and felt him shutter as he came. He collapse ontop of you for a few seconds but then collected himself and pulled out. You both let out a deep breath as he did. “Fuck princess, you did amazing,” he said while stroking your hair out of your face. He turned you over laying you on your back.

You were trying not to fall asleep when he stood up to get a wash cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. He emerged from the room with a damp cloth. “Just cleaning you up, then we can go to sleep.” he spoke softly. “Okay, neeks,” you said, yawning. He silently put the wash cloth in the hamper and grabbed you a t-shirt to wear - still his shirt but a t-shirt nonetheless. He put on a new pair of boxers and pulled you into his arms. You told him you loved him so much and he told you he loved you even more.

#nico hischier x reader #nj devils #nico hischier #nico hischer fanfic #nhl imagine #nh13 #new jersey devils #hockey #nico hischier smut #nhl #helisesposts

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tastesousweet · 9 months

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)

grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader

summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.

warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)

mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.

THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!

“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.

eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.

you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.

you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.

"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.

"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"

you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"

౨ৎ

“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.

“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.

"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."

"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."

౨ৎ

your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.

a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.

you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.

“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.

the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?

as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”

“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.

the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”

you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”

“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.

"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."

his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."

"so why'd you...?"

chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.

“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)

the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.

you go back up to chris once you’re finished.

“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.

chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.

(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.

he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.

“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”

but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.

“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.

“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?

you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.

“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.

“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”

his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.

you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.

you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.

you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.

“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.

you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.

“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”

you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.

he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.

a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?

“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.

“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.

you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.

the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.

eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”

you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”

he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”

he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.

the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”

you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.

you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”

“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.

“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”

matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.

“huh? you can’t share music?”

“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.

“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”

“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.

“matt?”

he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.

once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”

he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.

౨ৎ

there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”

when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.

you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”

you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.

you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.

after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.

when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.

"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.

"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.

you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."

"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.

"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.

chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."

౨ৎ

"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.

she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).

"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.

"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."

"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."

"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.

"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"

"mhmm."

"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

#this took way too long #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #tattoo matt n yn

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