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seraphdreams · 6 months ago

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GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

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mochiwrites · 23 days ago

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Grian is a hypocrite. He knows. God, does he know it. He’d never acknowledge that fact, however, would never admit to it. He isn’t exactly the type that goes around readily confessing his flaws, after all.

He had told Jimmy he wouldn’t restart the session if he died, right after he’d been knocked down a few lives. Grian said it without hesitation, as amusement spilled from his voice like it had been paint in a can that tipped over. It wouldn’t be fair, nor right, to restart the session. And if he restarted it for Jimmy, what kind of message would that send the others? It might become expectation if someone permanently died so early on.

He needed to be firm about it—even if Jimmy’s misfortune came from bad luck, things out of his control.

Grian can’t go giving out special favors. He can’t be biased.

He’s a hypocrite for it.

It happens on the mountain, right by the long staircase made of soft pink cherry wood. He doesn’t even notice at first, attempting to avoid his personal harbinger, a snail. Honestly, Grian didn’t mean for things to go this badly. As with most things with him, Grian thought it to be a silly joke. A hat tip toward a well known hypothetical query.

But in typical fashion, Grian overestimated his friends’ survival capabilities. With their own personal snails tailing them constantly, he watched as death after death rolled in, giggling over each one (unless it was Mumbo or Skizz).

Maybe by now he should know better.

“Who would make my snail invisible?! Who would boobytrap my snail like that?!”

Grian looks over at Lizzie, both flabbergasted and impressed, “That’s—that’s devious.”

The second he turns, it happens.

(Sandy domes under their feet, a ravine cutting right through their path. Mischievous giggles shared between them before they’re torn apart, the sound coming to an abrupt end.

With a shout he pushes his hand out, but to no avail. Yellow turns to red and all that’s left are their foot prints in sand, a pile of items below.

He’s left at the top, lips curling around the syllables of a name as hysteric laughter follows it, distress wrapping around it like a ring.

He never did manage to catch him.)

Grian is a hypocrite, because the moment Scar dies right in front of him, he panics. That invisible snail wasn’t Lizzie’s. It was Scar’s. He stops, breath cutting itself short on its own blade, body freezing itself in ice. He gets a second of eye contact with the man, seeing the shock and fear lacing his expression before he’s gone.

“Oh, Scar!” The outcry is loud as it crackles with distress.

This is it, he’s on his final life now. If he dies it’s permanent. No do overs. No restarts. No special favors. Scar will die. Grian can’t stomach the thought, can’t let it happen. He’s failed every other time and this world has only just begun. It’s too early. It’s… it’s not fair.

END THE SESSION. END THE SESSION! END IT. SAVE HIM. END END END END END END END!

Grian is a hypocrite.

Whether it be out of some sort of twisted and tangled guilt, or the lingering feeling of a debt to Death that never truly went fully repaid, he isn’t sure. There is no hesitation, just a natural instinct, an ingrained habit. If it were anyone else he’d let it happen, let the game run its course.

But his choice is obvious when it comes to Scar, even when he doesn’t want it to be. He’s always going to be drawn to him, always going to feel this pull. He’ll sacrifice it all, twist himself up in however many different contradictions he needs.

For Scar.

“The session is over!” he shouts, rapidly typing in the world chat for the others. He spams the message a few times in his hurry before switching to turn the wild card off. And he does it just in time, with Scar’s snail just a few inches away from the man. It disappears, along with the others, and a collective sigh of relief is released from those among them.

He feels Them watching, unhappy with their meal being cut short. But Grian doesn’t care. He never has.

“Man, that was a close one! I thought I was a goner,” Scar laughs over to his side, drawing Grian’s attention. “Thanks for the quick save there, G-man.”

Grian smiles at him, some small thing. “Don’t get used to it,” he returns.

There’s a knowing look in Scar’s now ruby eyes, and the sun on Grian’s hair feels warmer; heated, nostalgic. “Of course.”

He’s not supposed to play favorites, not meant to be biased. He’s not supposed to interfere to keep a player alive (something he made very clear to Mumbo and Skizz prior). But existing in a world like this without Scar feels wrong and near painful so early on. He couldn’t stand around and do nothing. He couldn’t just watch.

Not when it’s Scar.

Grian pretends not to notice the glance Jimmy throws at them, a brow raised. He’s been seen right through.

#mochi writes #wild life spoilers #wild life smp #scarian #desert duo #trafficshipping #I might rewrite this because I kind of hate it but #needed to go a little crazy over grian ending after scar went red #god #what is wrong with him #maybe I’ll talk more about it tmrw

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bookwyrminspiration · 15 days ago

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O quilllll look what i got from halloween

thought of you (dragon, green)

YOOOO!!! I'm so glad I've conditioned you all to associated me with dragons, i love getting sent/tagged in draconic things. just today my dad gave me a dragon book.

also!!! i've got some little dragon guys just like that! let me find some very low quality pictures

#quil's queries #purplesoup-lad-le #i've conditioned you all to associate me with books. dragons. the color green (sometimes also pink)#also some of you associate me with chaos which is also cool #living the life here

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cal-flakes · 9 months ago

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omg !! rate (dealer or not i don't mind !!) spoiling reader after she's had a tough n emotional week :( projecting rn !! ilysm and ur writing is amazing !!

so sorry it’s so late! i’ve only just started properly writing again :( love ya

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “y’okay kid?” a gruff mutter echoed from outside the bathroom as you lay still, eyes so focused yet so withdrawn as you watched the way your fingers floated in the now lukewarm bath rafe had run earlier. huffing meekly in agreement, you listened intently as his footsteps shifted, lingering for a moment. “be back soon, alright doll?” he called once more, secretly wishing for more than a distant sigh. “m’kay” you whispered, resting your head back against the cool tile.

rafe cameron was many things but never a liar, well — never to you at least. he said he’d be back soon, and back soon he was. yet, it felt like hours till you heard the familiar sound of his heavy footsteps, alongside a not so familiar rustling.

you saw it coming, the stuff knocks on the bathroom door once again, that didn’t mean you were pleased to hear them. the thought of getting out, or even just moving was exhausting, especially after such a long week, or the week of hell as you’d named it earlier, earning a sympathetic chuckle from your love as he adjusted himself in the drivers seat, ready and waiting to pick you up from work.

“c’mon darlin’ you gotta get out now, waters cold” he stated firmly, much unlike his earlier pleas. “m’coming” you huffed. “i’ma leave you to it, meet me downstairs”

it wasn’t uncommon for rafe to be so matter of fact with you anymore, he’d sharp learned that pleas and coaxing does nothing for you, never as beneficial as simply telling you.

patting the last layer of your skincare into your face, you turned slowly to open the bathroom door, eyes widening as quickly as the could as you took in the arrangement on your shared bed — tulips, pink ones specifically, chocolates, all splayed out beautifully, laid carefully beside — a teddy bear?

“rafe?” you queried, feet padding against the cold floor, pace much quicker — bouncier even now that you’d festered for a couple of hours, recharging. “yeah doll?” he hummed from the lounge, throwing his head back over the couch to look at you, lips quick to turn upwards as he noticed the new plush hanging from your grasp. “another one?” you beamed, quickly rounding the cushioned chair, all but diving into his lap — in which he was quick to catch you, placing numerous soft kisses to your freshly combed hair.

“s’nothin, just remembered you said you needed an new addition, n’you’ve had a shit week, jus’ thought it might help..” he spoke, slender fingers raking through your hair as you lay in his lap, glossy lips and glassy eyes peering up at him as though he’d gifted you the moon.

#ʚ♡ɞ ☁: elle’s dreams #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafecameron #rafe obx #obx #dom!rafe #soft!rafe cameron

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cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago

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Heated

"You're incredible," he whispers

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3k

Summary: You’re Bradleys best friend and when you come to support him you catch the attention of a certain blond.

Warnings: P in v sex and unprotected sex.

a/n: This is a quick one for once, I hope you all enjoy <3 I’m always willing to take requests, can be any fandom or character! Just let me know 😊

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the beach as the waves gently kissed the shore. Above the horizon, the sky was painted with a breathtaking array of colors, a canvas of pinks, oranges, and purples that seemed to stretch on forever.

On this picturesque evening, a group of young men, their muscles honed from military training, played a fiercely competitive game of football. Among them was Bradley, also known as Rooster, your childhood friend and the person you had come to support today.

Rooster comes running up to you with a smile as their game comes to an end. You didn't even notice him at first, being too busy ogling a blond haired man. The sunglasses come in handy as Brad is entirely clueless to the way you're staring.

“Hey,” he lays down next to you, chest heaving as he relaxes on the blanket you're sitting on.

“That was one intense game,” you reply, handing him a cool water bottle as he puts his head on your stomach. “Bradley, you're all sweaty, get off.” you tease him as you squirm under his damp hair.

Bradley grins cheekily, his head resting comfortably against your stomach as he gratefully accepts the water bottle, uncapping it with a twist and taking a large swig, before replying to you with a lazy smile.

"Aw, come on. I know you don't mind a little sweat, princess," he teases back, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looks up at you through half-lidded eyes. "Besides, you know you love it when I'm all hot and sweaty, don't you?"

“You wish,” you roll your eyes, noticing the stares of the other pilots as they relax onto the sand near you. “What's up with that blond guy?” you try to ask him nonchalantly but it's quite obvious *why* you're asking.

Bradley, ever observant, picks up on your not-so-subtle query almost immediately, and his lips curl into a sly smirk as he follows your gaze across the beach to the blond man that you had been eyeing moments before.

"You mean Hangman?" he says, raising an eyebrow at you. "What about him?" you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling at the roots.

“Don't make it so obvious where you're looking.” you whine out, “but what’s his deal? Is he seeing anyone? Or anything?”

Bradley laughs at your response, enjoying the way you tangle your fingers through his hair. But as soon as your question comes out, he lets out a low, knowing chuckle. "Of course it's Hangman you're curious about," he teases, grinning wider. "Always the troublemaker, that one."

As you ask about his relationship status, Bradley's expression becomes a little more serious. "From what I know, he's single. *Very* single. Not looking for anything serious, though. Why, interested?"

“Just curious,” You sit up, forcing Bradleys head onto your lap with the movement. “He’s pretty easy on the eyes.”

Bradley lets out a muffled sound of protest as you force his head onto your lap, but he doesn't struggle too much, settling comfortably against your legs. He looks up at you with a cheeky smile.

"Easy on the eyes, huh? Should I be worried here?" he teases, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. "He's a bit of a diva, though. Cocky, arrogant, the whole package."

You put a hand over Brad’s eyes to block the sun from them, “There's no need to worry,” you reply sweetly.

At some point Bradley introduces you to his fellow pilots and you end up sharing drinks with them. The night continues to go on with shared flirtatious looks between you and Hangman, but now you’re currently sitting off to the side of the group with your blanket wrapped around your body enjoying the peaceful night sky.

Hangman was sitting on the sidelines with his friends as they all exchanged stories and drank. He had noticed your presence, glancing at you every now and then while his friends continued to talk. From the corner of his eye he noticed you sitting alone with a blanket wrapped around your frame. Something about your lonely figure piqued his interest and he took another swig of his beer before heading over.

He crouched beside you, his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you. “What’re you doing over here all alone, princess?” you look at him with a small smile.

“Just enjoying the night,” you tighten the blanket around you, with a slight shiver. Hangman noticed your shiver, his eyes flickering over your form and taking in the way the blanket was wrapped tightly around you.

He chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes as he spoke. "Just enjoying the night, huh? Alone?" he asked, his tone a mix of mock surprise and intrigue.

He sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. "You look a little cold there, princess. Need something to warm you up?"

You scoot closer to him, enjoying the heat of his body. “Sounds nice,” you hum, leg pressing into his. Hangman lets out a low chuckle as you move closer to him, feeling the warmth of your leg pressed against his. His eyes flickered over you, taking in the way you snuggled up against him for warmth. There was something about your proximity to him that sent a thrill through his body.

“You know,” he said slowly, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “There are other ways to warm you up than just sitting near me.”

“Yeah?” you turn your body to face him. “Like what?” you feign innocence with the question, letting the blanket go just enough for him to see your cleavage and hardened nipples.

Hangman's eyes widened slightly at the sight of your exposed cleavage, his gaze involuntarily darting downward before quickly snapping back up to meet your eyes. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice hoarse with desire. He leaned closer to you, his body now pressed up against yours. "I can think of a few things." His hand snaked around you, resting on your hip and pulling you closer to him. "But I'm not sure if you can handle it, princess."

“Mm, I sure I can handle anything you throw my way..” your hand goes to his bare abs, sliding down his warm skin.

Hangman's breath hitched as your hands glided over his bare abs, your touch sending electric sparks coursing through his body. He swallowed hard, his hand gripping your hip a little tighter as he looked down at you with dark, smoldering eyes.

"Anything, huh? You sure you're not biting off more than you can chew, princess?" he teased, his voice low and seductive. He suddenly grabbed your wrist, stilling your hand as it continued to move downwards. "Careful now."

You smirk as you press your breasts onto his arm, moving close enough to whisper in his ear. “Maybe I am,” your other hand goes to his hair, fingers running through his hair as the blanket falls off your shoulders.

Hangman's breath hitches as your breasts press against his arm, and he feels a surge of lust coursing through his veins at the feel of your body against his. Your fingers running through his hair and the sound of your seductive whisper in his ear drive him wild.

He turns his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. His free hand slides up your thigh, his fingers tracing the skin lightly as he speaks. "You're playing a dangerous game here, princess," he warns huskily. "Are you sure you're ready to see where this goes?"

“Of course,” you continue to move your hand down his chest, “But I need you to take me somewhere more private first.”

Hangman's breath hitches as your hand moves further down his chest, getting closer and closer to the waistband of his shorts. His eyes lock on yours, dark and hungry, as a sly smile curves his lips.

"More private, huh?" he purrs, his voice low and sultry. "I can arrange that." He stands up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him. He then leads you away from the group, towards the safety and seclusion of the nearby hangar.

You follow close behind him, watching his determined eyes as he pulls you inside with him.

Once safely tucked away inside the hangar, Hangman pushes you up against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours. He pins you there with his hips, his hands planted on either side of your head as he looks down at you with darkened eyes.

"This private enough for you, princess?" he asks huskily, his breath hot against your skin.

“It’ll do,” you murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

When your lips meet his, Hangman lets out a low growl of pleasure. He responds passionately, his hands moving to your hips as he presses you harder against the wall. Tongue meeting yours as the kiss deepens, hungrily and possessively.

He breaks the kiss, his breath ragged and voice rough. "You are a dangerous little thing, you know that princess?"

“Dangerous hm?” you move one hand to his shorts, hand sliding over his growing erection, eyes glimmering with desire. Hangman's breath hitches at your touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a guttural moan. His hips instinctively push forward, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"You have no idea," he rasps, his voice low and thick with need. "The things you're doing to me..." He captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, his hands roaming over your body, desperate to feel more of you.

You moan into the kiss as his hands brush over your hard nipples, fingers teasing your body.

Hangman's mouth leaves yours, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. As he reaches the top of your chest, he gently bites the sensitive skin, his hand moving to your breast, palm rubbing against your hardened nipple.

"You're absolutely addicting, princess," he breathes out, his voice low and rough with desire.

His free hand roams down to your hip, his fingers gripping you roughly as he pulls you even closer, his erection pressing against your thigh. His hands moving down to your thighs, grabbing you forcefully and lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

He pins you harder against the wall, his hips pressing up against you as he feels the heat between your legs through the thin fabric of your bikini. “Fuck, Jake.” you let out a soft moan as he grinds up against you.

"More," you whine, your voice a breathy plea that echoes off the metal walls. The desire in your voice sends a jolt of excitement through him, and he smirks against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

Without breaking the kiss, he reaches down and deftly unties the strings of your bikini bottoms. He slides them aside, the fabric whispering against your skin, exposing your wetness to the cool hangar air. Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him closer, desperate for the friction to turn into something more substantial.

The feel of you, hot and ready against him, is almost too much for Hangman to handle. He groans into your mouth, his hand moving to cup your ass and lift you higher. The tip of his cock brushes against your folds, sending a shock of pleasure through both of you. You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you arch your back, silently begging for more.

"You want it, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "You want me to fill you up, make you scream?"

Your only response is a nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you stare into his eyes. Hangman chuckles darkly, his eyes filled with desire and challenge. He lowers you onto his cock, inch by delicious inch, until you're fully seated on him. The sensation is overwhelming, your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

He pulls back, and with one powerful thrust, he enters you completely. You cry out, the sound swallowed by his hungry mouth. His hips begin to move, setting a relentless pace that has you clinging to him, your legs tight around his waist. The friction is perfect, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through your body with every movement.

Hangman's hands roam your body, gripping your breasts and squeezing gently, his thumbs flicking over your nipples. His other hand slides down to cup your ass, his fingers digging in as he drives into you. You can feel the muscles in his arms tensing, the sweat on his back as he uses every ounce of his strength to give you what you want.

Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling him closer as you move with him, your hips matching his rhythm. The feeling of his cock inside you is like nothing you've ever experienced before, and you can't help but moan his name with every thrust.

As the pleasure builds, your movements become more erratic, your breathing shallower. You know you're close, and you can feel Hangman's own tension rising. His grip on your hips tightens, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Cum for me, princess," he grunts, his voice thick with need. "Let me feel you cum around me."

Your body responds to his command, the orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You moan his name, your nails scratching his back as the sensation overwhelms you. Hangman's eyes widen, watching the pleasure play out across your face, and with a final, powerful thrust, he follows you over the edge.

The world fades away for a moment, leaving only the two of you and the sound of your muffled cries of ecstasy as you cling to each other in the aftermath. When you finally come back to reality, you're both panting heavily, your bodies slick with sweat and the salt of the ocean air.

Surprisingly, you feel him harden again, his cock still buried deep within you. You look up at him with wide eyes, unsure if you can handle another round so soon. But Hangman seems insatiable, his gaze locked on yours as he starts to move again, slower this time, savoring every inch of you.

"Again?" you question, your voice still shaky from the last orgasm. He smirks, his eyes gleaming with a mix of challenge and lust.

"You can handle it," he whispers, his voice a seductive promise that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your body responds almost immediately, your hips moving in sync with his, the friction building once more. His hands grip your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he supports your weight, his thrusts deep and deliberate. Each movement sends a new wave of pleasure through you, making your legs tremble around his waist.

Hangman's eyes never leave yours, watching as the passion builds in your gaze. His strokes become more urgent, his breath coming in ragged pants against your neck. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding back, drawing out the moment for both of you.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I could do this all night."

You lean into him, your heart racing as his words send a warmth through you that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he continues to move inside you.

Your kisses become slower, more deliberate, as if you're trying to memorize the taste of him. Your hands trace the contours of his back, feeling the muscles ripple under his skin as he moves with you. The hangar feels like it's spinning around you, the only real things in the world are the two of you.

The waves of pleasure start to build again, more gently this time. You can feel it rising from deep within you, coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to release. Your hips begin to rock against his, your breath coming in shaky gasps as you get closer to the edge.

Hangman groans into your ear, his teeth nibbling on your earlobe as he continues his slow, torturous movements. His breath is hot and damp against your skin, sending little shivers down your spine. His head is buried in your shoulder, his face hidden from view, but you can feel the tension in his neck and the way his body is shaking with the effort of holding back.

You arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders. His response is a low growl, his hips moving faster, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of passion and need.

"I'm going to cum," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. Hangman's only response is to tighten his grip on your thighs, his hips moving in a steady, punishing rhythm that has you on the brink. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, you're there, your body convulsing around him as you cry out his name.

He follows you over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him like lightning. You can feel his cock pulse inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his release. He holds you tight, his face still buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are filled with something you can't quite place. It's a mix of satisfaction, desire, and something else—something deeper. He kisses you softly, gently, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. "You're incredible," he whispers, his voice still thick with lust.

You smile up at him, your legs still wrapped around his waist, his cock still inside you. "So are you," you reply, your voice equally as soft. For a moment, you just stand there, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

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6ronze · 1 month ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ───── 𝑃𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝑅𝐼𝐵𝐵𝑂𝑁, where you insist on tying up a pink ribbon around one of their biceps. includes: zayne, gojo, rindou.

warning(s) -> pure fluff w sum suggestive moments. sfw. fem!reader, established relationship, incredibly domestic shit, short scenarios, not proofread, wc is 1.8k.

𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 : urm. ik im suppose to be working on my other wips but i need sum fluff rn

ZAYNE

Your oh-so-busy boyfriend finally took a day off, and you were determined to make the most of it. So you started the satisfying morning by sleeping in till past 10, something either of you rarely done because of work.

You didn’t spare Zayne from the stupid questions you’ve kept stacked in your mind, your curiosity ranging from medical facts to his daily routine during weekends before you got together. The poor surgeon sighed more than he did for an entire day of work but answered nonetheless.

It was all bearable for Zayne until you finished breakfast—or brunch, whatever it was you had. The patters of feet coming from your shared bedroom while Zayne was sat on the couch in the living room was enough for him to pinch the bridge between his brows, bracing for an incoming request that would no doubt involve some point of ridiculousness.

“What is this time?” He queried tentatively, turning his head over his side to see you approaching him, the grin on your face unmistakable. “And what is it you’re holding?”

“A ribbon,” you answered with a hum that had way too much enthusiasm for his liking (affectionately).

“C’mon, it’s a harmless pink ribbon! No need to frown and glare at it,” you chuckled, the furrow of his brows and narrow of his eyes all too familiar.

“I’m not glaring at the ribbon, the ribbon is innocent. I’m glaring at your hands, to be exact. They’re the ones most prone to mischief,” he pointed out, eyes trailing over you as you eventually stood ahead of him. His head tilted up to look at your face, an attempt to gauge your intentions with the pink ribbon you held.

“You’re overanalysing it,” you rolled your eyes, reaching out a hand to gently grab one of his arms, holding it up. “Stay still,” you giggled, catching his full attention all of the sudden, hazel green eyes darting between your face and your working hands.

“There! All done,” he heard you exclaim bubbly, his gaze zeroing in to the neat bow you’ve made with the pink ribbon around his bicep.

“Tell me why exactly you’ve decided to do this? Decoration?” He queried, glancing up at your standing figure in front of him with pure curiosity—and perhaps a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, yes. I suppose I am decorating you since you lack colour,” you retorted, folding your arms against your chest, looking proud at your handiwork.

“I believe I have a good colour palette for furniture and clothes, thank you very much,” he scoffed, not a sense of malice lacing his words despite his mask of displeasure.

“So you find this cute?” Zayne muttered, looking over to his now free arm, lifting it up straight and tugging on the sleeve of his shirt to expose the ribbon you’ve tied around him more. And while he did so, he unintentionally flexed his muscles, giving you a free exhibit of the your boyfriend, reminding you he works out despite spending most of his time in the hospital.

Amidst your staring, he had turned his head over to you, tilting his head at your fixation on his arm.

GOJO

One of the rare days where Gojo takes a day off for you, he tends to prefer spending it lazying around with you at home rather than going out. One of the reason? He’s a lazy fuck.

Well that’s one of them, but the other reason is he loves the simplicity of merely being there with you, holding you, maybe even getting to know parts of you that he didn’t—though, he insists that’s impossible.

Rather than shrugging him off and giving him the cold shoulder at his clinginess, you insist on matching his behaviour, except occasional exchanges of wit between you were inevitable.

“What’s that, princess? Trynna copy my blindfold look with a pink ribbon?” He drawled with a grin, awfully interested on your busy self even with the movie he picked playing on TV. The soft pink fabric around your fingers entranced him in a sense, his jewel eyes alternating between your concentrated face and the fiddles you made with the ribbon.

“No, I’m not. Your blindfold doesn’t even look half as good as this ribbon,” you remarked, words turning to a mumble halfway with how focused you got on fiddling with the ribbon. His arm around your shoulder squeezed you slightly, tucking you in close before hooking his arm around your neck instead.

“Piss off. You know I look good in anything,” Gojo chuckled, musing with confidence by your ear.

“What do you plan on doing with it anyway? Want me to tie you up with it?” He suggested, tone suspiciously innocent. You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well it was a ruse to lead you to something else. So you elbowed his chest gently, earning a dramatic groan from the smirking man.

“Like hell am I letting you do that. Instead, why don’t I tie it on you instead?” You huffed, the sudden idea going to your head and making you turn over to him more. His white lashes fluttered at you as he blinked, looking somewhat dumbfounded at your threat.

“Hey, hey, what’re you doin’ now? Weak thing like that isn’t gonna be able to restrain me, sweetheart,” he leaned away when you shifted to face him better, hand capturing his arm. You couldn’t help but scoff at his reaction, panicking away from you the second he saw that sly gleam in your eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, idiot,” you grumbled, wrapping the ribbon around his upper arm, compression shirt giving you a clear outline of his biceps.

“Not like you can anyway,” he mumbled underneath his breath like you wouldn’t hear him. However, you did, giving him another light yet firm slap to his arm and ripping one more of his exaggerated ows.

“This one of those trends on social media or something? Usually, I’d be the one wrapping you up like a pretty little gift,” he asked, looking over at you curiously as you tied a bow from the pink ribbon around his still arm. “Yeah, so what if it is?” you challenged, not bothering to pull your focus away from the bow you were tying on him still. And fuck, did you seem like the most adorable thing in the world to him.

“Just asking, baby,” he laughed softly, finding your retort cute rather than hurtful. He knew better than to take any of your little fits seriously anyway.

“There,” you muttered, releasing his arm with a satisfied look since the bow came out perfectly. Gojo on the other hand moved his arm around as if you’ve added prosthetics to his body instead, earning a lighthearted glare from you.

“So what? I just flex my muscles around to tighten it up?” He queried with a quirked brow, lifting his arm up and flexing his muscles on command, the delicate ribbon visibly constricting his biceps when he did so. You couldn’t help but stare and wonder. Darn this man for doing the most attractive things so obliviously.

RINDOU

Rindou had finally graced your pleas to take a day off from work for the two of you. And while you thought it would be a great day for dates and all, you ended up sleeping in with him, unable to truly get up from the comfort of the bed and his warmth. You two mumbled in bed together for a while, half asleep and day dreaming until he dragged out of bed for breakfast.

If it was one thing you noticed about his routines at home without work bugging him, it was that he loved walking around shirtless. It didn’t matter the time of the day, he would be wearing some pair of sweatpants without his torso bare, tattoos on his body on full display. You asked him about it but got nothing more than a simple, ‘why? ‘M I distracting you, baby?’ Which you merely replied with a glare.

Cooking up some eggs and bacon for yourself and his gluttonous self, you were interrupted by a pair of firm big arms encircling your waist from behind.

“What?” you asked with a bit of a groan, hand holding the pan a bit tighter now.

“Hey, don’t take out that morning attitude on me,” he grumbled, chin resting on the top of your head. His brows furrowed slightly, eyes focusing on the movement of your hands that cooked the food.

“Not my fault you decided to burn my eyes by walking around the house naked,” you refuted, voice slightly low from dehydration.

“Half naked,” he corrected, his own morning voice hoarse and gravelly to your ears, a sound you welcomed. “Besides, don’t you like seeing my body? Thought you liked my muscles,” he added, arms held around your stomach squeezing slightly to emphasise his point of ‘muscles’. You scoff in response.

“Yeah, but maybe I don’t like being reminded how hot my boyfriend is so early in the morning,” you reasoned, hand closing the stove and putting the pan down safely to finally turn around and face him, his arms loosening.

“Hmm.. Can’t relate, baby. I like being reminded how sexy my girl is this early. Makes me appreciate you more,” he grinned, slightly downturned violet eyes staring at you with a gleam of triumph at the sight of your slightly flustered expression.

“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad,” you grunted, earning yourself a deep laugh from Rindou.

You pushed past him to walk over to the kitchen counter but one of his arms lingered on you, not quite letting you go. Your eyes landed on a lone strand of pink ribbon laying the countertop, recalling the chocolate gift he gave you last night that was wrapped in ribbons

“Forgot to throw this out huh?” You muttered, picking it up and twirling it around your fingers playfully. Rindou standing behind you still, didn’t say much of a word, opting to stay quiet for a moment to observe you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to turn around and grab ahold of his arm suddenly. But he didn’t protest or move, merely staring at your movements and waiting to see what bright idea you could’ve possibly had now.

“A bow? Really?” He chuckled, gaze fixated at the way you swiftly tied the thin pink fabric around his upper arm. “Some cool idea you have on making me a gift, princess,” he exhaled a breathy laugh, looking at his bicep once you released him.

“Shut up. Be thankful I didn’t it tie it on your hair and snap a pic to send to Ran instead,” you huffed, folding your arms at his sarcastic remark.

“Okay, fuck, I take it back,” he quickly conceded, not wanting to anger you even further now you’ve threatened him with Ran’s name.

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