Kinktober Day 7 - Magical Fleshlight

Mountain x Reader

Fuck… why does this feel so real? It’s so… wet. Holy shit.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 6k.

Reading Time: 24 min.

Warnings: elements of crack!fic, masturbation, multiple orgasms, noncon, non-discussed sexual activity, public, PIV sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Mountain slumped onto the bed, sighing heavily as he bounced softly on the plush springs. The day had dragged on endlessly, each hour dragging him further into a storm of stress and fatigue. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the tight knots in his back that throbbed with every movement, and the cramping beginning to form in his legs, a testament to the physically demanding tasks he’d faced. All he wanted was to escape into the soothing embrace of sleep.

Curling up onto his side, he nestled into the cool sheets, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the roughness of his day. As he logged onto Instagram, the flickering glow of his phone illuminated the dim room, casting playful shadows against the walls. It was a moment of solace, a brief respite from the chaos of the outside world.

Then, your most recent picture appeared on his timeline, and a jolt of electricity surged through him. You were stunning, radiating a captivating allure that pulled him in like a moth to a flame. The memory of the dress you wore last night flickered in his mind—a form-fitting creation that hugged your curves perfectly, its delicate fabric accentuating every feature that drove him wild. He could almost see it bunched up around your waist, his imagination running riot as he pictured the scene.

His heart raced at the thought, and he cursed under his breath, shaking his head as he tried to dispel the imagery. No. He couldn’t think like that. Not now, not when he was exhausted and vulnerable. But the temptation lingered, clawing at the edges of his mind like an unquenchable fire. He longed to reach out, to hold you close, to forget the weight of the world for just a moment.

He swiped through your photos, each one more intoxicating than the last—your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. Each image only deepened his frustration and desire, intertwining with the stress of the day, creating a tangled web of emotions he found hard to unravel. The solitude of his room felt stifling, an echo of his longing that was now amplified by your presence on his screen.

Mountain’s thoughts drifted, his body still heavy with weariness yet somehow ignited by an unshakeable yearning. The contrast of his physical exhaustion and the vivid allure of you made his chest tighten. He wanted to rest, to forget his troubles, but he also craved something more—something electric, passionate, and intoxicating.

With a deep breath, he set his phone down, staring at the ceiling as he tried to clear his head. The images of you still danced in his mind, teasing him mercilessly. Perhaps a little distraction would help? A warm shower, a drink, or maybe… just maybe, a little bit of magic to soothe his aching body and restless thoughts. He could picture you there beside him, laughter filling the air, and a shiver of anticipation raced down his spine.

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to scrub the image of you beneath him from his mind, but it was too late. The fantasy had taken root, blossoming into something far too vivid to ignore. His body was already responding, a heat rising in him that seemed to defy his efforts to suppress it.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, his heart pounding as he fought to regain control. The bed felt too soft, too inviting, and his thoughts were spiralling into tantalising possibilities. The way you had looked in that dress—the way it had clung to your body, accentuating your curves—sent a rush of heat coursing through him. He could almost feel your skin beneath his fingertips, the way your body would yield to his touch, inviting him in, urging him to explore.

Mountain clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms as if to ground himself. He was all too aware of the growing tension in his lower abdomen, a primal response that stirred within him, demanding attention. It was maddening. No, he thought firmly, pushing back against the wave of desire. He needed to focus on anything else—work, the tasks ahead, the mess he’d need to clean—but his mind was relentless, cycling back to you.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room as he tried to shake off the intrusive thoughts. Each step seemed to echo with the memory of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume. It wrapped around him like a fog, clouding his judgment and amplifying his longing.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself, the words barely making it past clenched teeth. But as he turned, his gaze fell upon the fleshlight sitting innocently on the bedside table—a recent acquisition, born of desperation and curiosity. The relic hummed softly, as if it sensed his turmoil, and suddenly, he felt a magnetic pull toward it.

Could it really help him escape the throbbing desire that gripped him so tightly? With a tentative hand, he reached for the enchanted device, the cool surface grounding him momentarily as he contemplated his options. It had been whispered among friends that this magical relic could bring fantasies to life, enabling a connection that was both intimate and otherworldly.

Magic? As if. That sounded like the plot of a shitty smutty novel. There was no magic in the real world.

He glanced back at his phone, at your radiant smile, and felt a surge of determination wash over him. Why not give it a try? Perhaps, just this once, he could indulge in a fantasy—a fleeting moment of pleasure that could distract him from the gnawing stress of the day.

With a deep breath, Mountain took a seat on the edge of the bed, the tension still simmering within him as he examined the magical fleshlight in his hands. If there was ever a time to explore the boundary between reality and fantasy, it was now. He was ready to surrender, if only for a little while.

He ran his finger over the fleshlight’s clitoris, the smooth surface cool against his heated skin. The mere touch sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a flicker of anticipation in his belly. The magical device seemed to hum with energy, almost as if it were alive, responding to his touch and urging him to let go of his inhibitions. As his imagination began to weave vivid images of you, he closed his eyes, allowing the fantasy to envelop him.

Meanwhile, you were sitting in the library, surrounded by towering shelves filled with dusty tomes and parchment scrolls. The warm, golden light from the lamps cast a comforting glow, but it did little to dispel the exhaustion that clung to you like a second skin. Traveling for the Ministry had worn you out, leaving a mountain of work to tackle. You felt as if you were drowning beneath the weight of it all, buried under reports and briefings that demanded your attention.

Determined to catch up, you hunched over your desk, your quill scratching furiously against the parchment. The words began to blur together as your mind wandered, drawn back to thoughts of Mountain. You couldn’t shake the image of him, powerful and stoic, but with an undeniable softness lurking beneath the surface. That intense gaze of his always made your heart race, igniting a warmth that spread through you.

It was maddening, really, how one thought of him could send your concentration spiraling. You shifted in your chair, the tension in your back protesting the long hours spent hunched over your work. A sigh escaped your lips as you glanced at the clock, realising how late it had grown. The library felt even quieter now, the stillness pressing in around you, amplifying your restlessness.

But that was when you felt it. A sudden, electrifying swipe over your clitoris, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook, heart racing as confusion and curiosity battled within you. What on earth was happening?

You glanced around the library, half-expecting to see someone teasing you, but the room remained empty, the silence thick with the weight of ancient knowledge. The sensation pulsed again, rhythmic and insistent, as if someone—something—was touching you beneath your clothes. Your breath caught in your throat, the combination of surprise and intrigue igniting a warmth deep within. You stood up and moved seats, thinking that was the problem, but when the swipe came a second time, you almost screamed. It felt so good, somehow?

With every pulse, the sensation felt more intense and quicker, drawing you deeper into an exhilarating haze. You clenched your thighs together, instinctively searching for relief as you fought to maintain your composure. The rhythmic touches seemed to dance along your most sensitive areas, teasing and inviting with each electric caress.

Your breath hitched as you pressed your legs together, seeking some form of control, but the warmth pooled low in your belly, a heated pressure that was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. You bit your lip, trying to focus on the paper in front of you, but the words swam before your eyes, fading into the background as your entire being concentrated on the sensation that was almost overwhelming.

What if it was Mountain? The thought sent a shiver through you. You had shared so many lingering glances, those moments charged with unspoken desire. Your brain kept showing you images of him next to you, hands beneath your habit and flicking over your clit so expertly, you were getting closer and closer to the precipice by the second.

Another pulse shot through you, sharper and more insistent than before. You gasped, gripping the edge of the desk for support. Your mind raced, torn between the fantasy of Mountain orchestrating this and the reality of being in the library, surrounded by centuries of knowledge and solitude.

The teasing sensation flickered again, and you could feel it mirroring the rhythm of your heartbeat, tugging at your very core. You could hardly contain yourself; a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing against the high ceilings of the library. The sound startled you, and you quickly glanced around, but there was still no one in sight.

Swallowing hard, you weighed your options. You could leave the library, escape this unexpected spell, or you could embrace it, surrender to the sensations that were taking over your body. The tension in your back seemed to dissipate, replaced by a throbbing warmth that surged through you with every pulse.

You took a deep breath, heart pounding in anticipation. What would happen if you let yourself explore this strange new sensation? What if this was a glimpse into something deeper, something shared with Mountain that had yet to be spoken?

Finally, you settled back into your seat, heart racing as you surrendered to the unknown. With each wave of pleasure, you began to ride the rhythm, feeling the magic course through you. The lines of reality blurred as you imagined Mountain’s hands—strong yet gentle—working their magic on you. The fantasies you had buried deep within began to surface, filling your mind with images of him, of you, lost in a world of desire.

As you surrendered to the sensations, a part of you still wondered how long you could remain in this secret world, caught between the throes of pleasure and the reality of your surroundings. But for now, all that mattered was the intoxicating feeling of the unknown, and the powerful connection that pulsed between you and Mountain, drawing you ever closer.

The sensations grew stronger, more insistent, every pulse of pleasure pushing you closer to the edge. Your grip tightened on the edge of the desk, knuckles white as you fought to keep silent, your breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps. The magical teasing seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to drive you wild without mercy, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. You could barely focus on anything but the pressure building inside you, hot and unbearable.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to stifle the moans threatening to escape your lips. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to walk in and find you like this, overwhelmed by invisible hands, pleasure coursing through you in the middle of the quiet library. But the thought of being caught only seemed to heighten the thrill, a dangerous mix of arousal and anticipation that made the heat within you coil tighter.

The rhythm became more relentless, the electric pulses caressing your clitoris and sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You pressed your thighs together again, trying to ease the tension, but it only made the feeling more intense, more impossible to resist. Your body was trembling, your heart pounding in your chest, your breaths coming in quick, ragged bursts as the wave of ecstasy swelled higher and higher.

Your mind was a blur, filled with images of Mountain—his hands on you, his body pressed against yours. You could almost feel him there, his touch, his breath on your skin. The fantasy had completely taken over, and you no longer cared about anything but the release that was building inside you, stronger and stronger with each passing second.

And then, it hit.

A final pulse, stronger and more intense than before, surged through you, and suddenly, you were there, on the edge of oblivion. You gasped, your back arching as your entire body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming, almost too much to bear. The climax washed over you in powerful waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving you trembling, breathless, your mind utterly consumed by the moment.

Your hands clutched the desk, your thighs clamped together as the pleasure coursed through you, your heart pounding in your ears as you rode the waves of ecstasy. You couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips, your body shaking as you finally surrendered to the release you’d been fighting.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Everything was still, your mind lost in the afterglow, your body limp and sated. The heat slowly began to ebb away, leaving a warm, languid feeling in its wake. You slumped in your chair, chest heaving, your skin flushed and your limbs heavy. The library was silent once again, save for the sound of your ragged breathing as you came down from the high.

You opened your eyes, still dazed, your body tingling with the remnants of pleasure. The magic had faded, leaving you alone once more. You glanced around, half-expecting someone to have noticed, but the library remained as quiet and still as ever. No one had witnessed your moment of ecstasy, and for that, you were grateful.

Mountain felt the fleshlight twitch in his hands, the silicone pulsing rhythmically under his touch. It was strange, almost unnerving, how lifelike it felt—warm and supple, as though it had a mind of its own. He reasoned it must have been designed that way, engineered to feel as close to the real thing as possible. After all, the material had to have some give; otherwise, it would be difficult to fuck.

But this… this felt different. Too real.

Curiosity burned within him, and without thinking, he removed his thumb from the fleshlight’s clit and slid a finger into the vaginal hole. He half-expected to feel nothing but cold silicone or mechanical resistance, but the moment his fingertip pressed inside, he froze.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his breath catching in his throat.

The interior was silky smooth, impossibly warm, and slick with wetness, as though it had already been perfectly lubricated just for him. His finger sank deeper, and he swore he felt the walls subtly pulse around him, hugging his digit with a grip that sent a jolt of arousal straight through his core. It felt as though he had slipped his finger inside a real pussy—alive, warm, and so damn wet.

It was too much.

The thought hit him like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of blood straight to his length, which was already half-hard, now straining against his trousers. He glanced down, feeling the growing pressure, but his mind couldn’t tear away from the fleshlight and its surreal sensations. His pulse quickened as he slowly curled his finger inside the toy, feeling the textured inner walls respond to his every movement, as if the toy were reacting, pulling him in.

“Holy shit…” he whispered under his breath, barely able to believe what he was experiencing.

The slickness inside only made his cock throb with more need, the pressure building rapidly in his groin. His mind wandered back to the vivid images of you that had plagued him all night. He imagined it wasn’t just his finger inside this magical device, but his cock, sinking deep into that same warmth, feeling your body move beneath him, wrapped around him. He could almost hear the sound of your breath hitching in pleasure, see the way your body would react to every thrust.

His arousal was becoming impossible to ignore, his length now fully hard, aching to be touched. The wetness coating his finger made him desperate to feel more, to know what it would be like to sink himself completely into the impossible magic of this fleshlight.

But something nagged at him in the back of his mind. Why did this feel so different? So personal? It wasn’t just a toy; it was something more, something… connected.

Mountain exhaled sharply, pulling his finger out and wiping it on his trousers as he debated whether to continue. His cock twitched in anticipation, and the need for release was undeniable. He had to know just how far this could go.

His hand drifted to the waistband of his trousers, the decision already made.

You had felt the initial intrusion, the unexpected presence inside you, no thicker than a finger. It wasn’t moving with any intent to please, merely exploring your most intimate space, as if testing the waters, feeling out your warmth. A breath caught in your throat, and you slumped over the desk, your hand flying to your mouth, desperate to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Your body shivered in response, torn between confusion and the undeniable arousal that was building deep within you.

The slow, teasing movements left you trembling, and while it wasn’t enough to satisfy the aching need between your legs, the anticipation was maddening. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to create some friction, something to ease the growing heat. But the moment you began to settle into the sensation, it stopped. The presence withdrew, and you were left empty, unsatisfied, your slick, needy cunt clenching around nothing.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, muffled by the back of your hand. A part of you was disappointed, frustrated even, that it had left. Your body was throbbing, aching for more—more of whatever that was, more of what it had been building toward. Your pulse was racing, and the quiet library around you suddenly felt too confining, too stifling. You couldn’t stay here, not like this.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, the lingering heat between your thighs making every movement feel laboured. You glanced around the empty room, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as if someone might have seen your inner turmoil, but the library remained silent and still. The quiet was too much now, the weight of your arousal pressing down on you, urging you to seek relief. You needed more than just that teasing touch; you needed release. And you needed it now.

Quickly, you began packing up your things, your fingers fumbling as you tried to gather your quill and parchment. Your mind was already somewhere else, picturing what awaited you once you could find privacy. The thought of it—of taking care of yourself, of chasing the release that had been cruelly denied in the library—sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

With your belongings hastily stuffed into your bag, you headed toward the door, your breath uneven as you made your way out of the library. The cool air of the hallway did little to calm the fire raging inside you. You had to find somewhere—anywhere—you could be alone and finish what had been started.

Your legs moved quickly beneath you, instinct driving you toward the nearest private space, your heart pounding with anticipation as the memory of that teasing touch replayed in your mind.

You left the library in a hurry, taking a sharp left down the corridor toward your room, your mind laser-focused on finding relief. Each step was torture, your knees weak and trembling, barely able to support your body as the weight of your arousal pressed down on you. The cool air of the hallway did nothing to ease the growing heat between your thighs, and you quickened your pace, desperate to reach the privacy of your room.

But just as you rounded the corner, a new sensation hit you.

Dread pooled in your stomach as you felt your folds part, something heavy and hard sliding between them. You gasped, eyes widening in shock, feeling a thick pressure press against your clit. It wasn’t the slow, teasing touch from before—it was urgent, insistent, and so overwhelmingly real that you couldn’t hold back the shaky moan that escaped your lips. The sensation was distracting, too distracting, and in your attempt to keep moving, you stumbled.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and with a gasp, you fell to the ground, your belongings scattering across the wooden floor. Pens, paper and books slipped from your grasp, your bag tumbling open as you struggled to regain control of your body. The thick presence between your legs remained, rubbing insistently against your clit with every movement, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you as you lay there, heart racing and breath ragged.

Your hands shot down instinctively, as though to push whatever it was away, but there was nothing tangible, nothing you could grasp. It was as if some invisible force was teasing you, pressing into you with an unrelenting rhythm that made it impossible to think straight.

You tried to stand, pushing yourself up with trembling arms, but the pleasure was so intense that you collapsed again, your knees refusing to support your weight. Another shudder ran through you, your body betraying you as the rubbing against your clit continued, the sensation almost unbearable. You squeezed your thighs together, but it only seemed to make it worse, the pressure building with every second.

“Fuck…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathless gasp. You had no control over your body anymore. The sensation between your legs had taken over, and all you could do was grip the floor beneath you, helpless against the mounting pleasure.

The hallway was empty, but you were still exposed, vulnerable. You needed to get up, needed to reach your room where you could finally give in to what your body craved. But as another pulse of pleasure shot through you, you weren’t sure you’d even make it.

A stroke of luck emerged, catching your eye in the midst of your frantic struggle—the door to a cleaning closet, left slightly ajar. Relief mixed with desperation as you quickly gathered your scattered belongings, your hands shaking as you scrambled to your feet. You couldn’t make it much further; your knees were barely holding you upright as it was, and the relentless pressure between your thighs was making it impossible to think straight.

Without a second thought, you rushed toward the open door, heart pounding in your chest. As soon as you stumbled inside, you slammed it shut behind you, pressing your back against the wood. There was no lock, but if you could just stay quiet—if you could hold out here for a few moments—you might make it through this without being caught. The small space was dimly lit, filled with shelves of cleaning supplies, and the air smelled faintly of soap and lavender.

You barely had time to catch your breath before it happened.

A sharp, overwhelming sensation took hold of you as you felt something push into you—deep, filling your already throbbing, aching hole. The intrusion was sudden, and you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle the cry of pleasure that threatened to burst out. It was thick, stretching you in a way that was both shocking and satisfying, as though whatever it was had been waiting for this moment, waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, and desperate.

It was definitely a cock - but it was fucking huge.

Mountain sank into the fleshlight, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as the tightness enveloped him. He was a big man in every sense of the word, and his length was no exception—thick, heavy, and aching for relief. As he pressed deeper, the silicone walls yielded, but only just enough, hugging him in a way that felt almost too real. The sensation was overwhelming, warm and snug, gripping him with the perfect balance of resistance and give, as though the toy had been made just for him.

His breath hitched as he sank further, the heat surrounding him sending shivers down his spine. Every inch of him was enveloped in that wet, warm tightness, and it felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His hips rolled instinctively, testing the limits of the toy’s grip, and the way it clung to him made his cock throb with need. It was almost maddening how good it felt—too good, in fact. The slickness inside, combined with the soft, textured ridges, made every movement feel as though he was buried deep inside something alive.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands tightening around the base of the fleshlight as his hips moved again, slower this time, savouring the way it squeezed him with every thrust.

The heat, the wetness, the way it pulsed around him—it was almost too much to bear. He couldn’t help but picture you, the way your body would feel wrapped around him like this, clenching down on him, pulling him in. The thought of you, mixed with the intensity of the sensation, made his control slip. His pace quickened, driven by the growing pressure building in his groin, his need for release clawing at him.

Each thrust into the toy felt more urgent, the friction deliciously overwhelming. He could feel the tension building, his length throbbing inside the slick, tight tunnel. Every stroke was bringing him closer to the edge, the pleasure so intense it made his vision blur. The way the fleshlight clung to him was impossibly real, and the thought of sinking into your warmth instead made his pulse race even faster.

He was too far gone to stop now, completely lost in the sensation, the need for release overtaking him as his hips bucked into the toy with reckless abandon.

Your legs gave out entirely, and you collapsed against the shelves, your body trembling as the force inside you began to move. Slow, deliberate strokes, in and out, dragging along your sensitive walls and making you shudder with each thrust. You bit down on your hand, trying to stay quiet, but the sensation was so intense, so perfectly maddening, that small, helpless whimpers slipped past your lips despite your best efforts.

The sensation wasn’t just physical; it was connected. Every movement inside you felt purposeful, like whoever—or whatever—was controlling this was in sync with your body, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart. Your pussy clenched around it, soaking wet, the slickness only making the thrusts more fluid, more relentless.

Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the rhythm of your body matching the relentless thrusts that were driving you closer and closer to the edge. Each stroke pushed deeper, dragging against your most sensitive spots, and the heat building inside you was becoming unbearable. Your mind was spinning, the world around you fading into a blur as the pressure inside you mounted, thick and heavy.

You could feel yourself trembling, your body taut with anticipation, the pleasure coiling tighter with every thrust. Your nails dug into your palms, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, to hold on just a little longer—but it was no use.

It felt so good.

Too good.

You sat up a little and spread your legs, pulling your panties off from beneath your habit and throwing them somewhere in the dark, your middle finger immediately moving to your swollen and sensitive clit. Rubbing furiously at it, you let out a loud gasp, the feeling of the cock fucking into you, now at a violent pace. You grasped onto the shelf behind you with your free hard, trying to find something to ground you as much as possible, but nothing was working. Something invisible was pounding relentlessly into your cunt, using your body for their own pleasure and you were so wound up tight - you liked it.

Your body was already betraying you, your pussy tightening around the force inside you as the tension built to a breaking point. It was hitting all the right spots, fucking into you like no one else had managed to before. You bit on your bottom lip trying to remain quiet, but at this point your moans and pants were coming out so loudly, you were sure passers by could hear you.

Mountain’s breath was ragged as he thrust into the fleshlight, his large hands gripping it tightly, the soft silicone giving way under his force but clinging to him in the most maddening way. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as the slickness inside seemed to pulse in time with his movements. Every stroke felt too real, too perfect—as if it were more than just a toy, something alive and responding to him.

His cock was fully buried now, his hips rolling slowly at first, but the tightness had him on edge, making it impossible to hold back. His groans grew louder, deep and rough, as he set a more urgent pace. The fleshlight gripped him harder, the wet warmth inside making every stroke smoother, more fluid, but also more intense. It felt better than it should have, the sensation almost too much for him to handle.

“Fuck…” he hissed under his breath, his length throbbing with need. Each thrust sent a pulse of pleasure through his body, his mind clouded with desire as he imagined you beneath him instead. The way you would look, your body writhing in pleasure as he buried himself inside you, the soft sounds of your moans filling the air. The thought made his cock twitch inside the toy, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the fantasy.

But then, something strange happened.

The fleshlight pulsed. It wasn’t just responding to his thrusts anymore—it was as if it had a life of its own, squeezing him, rippling around his length in a way that was too real, too connected. His eyes flew open, a gasp escaping him as he stilled for a moment, looking down at the toy in his hands.

“What the…?”

He felt it again, the sensation tightening, as if the fleshlight was reacting not to his body, but to something else entirely. The pulsing grew stronger, almost rhythmic, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through him so intense he nearly doubled over. He could feel the slick walls inside moving, as though mimicking the contractions of an actual body—your body.

Mountain’s heart raced, his mind spinning. There was no way this was just a toy anymore. He could feel it—feel you—somehow, in some way. It was impossible, but there was no denying the connection. The more he moved, the more the fleshlight reacted, tightening around him with each thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core.

His hips bucked involuntarily, the sensations overtaking him, his mind now filled with images of you. He imagined you trembling, the way your body would shake as he pushed into you, the look of desperation in your eyes as you tried to hold back your release. His pace became frantic, thrusting into the toy with abandon, the tight, wet warmth driving him to the edge.

He was so close. He could feel his orgasm building, his entire body tensing with the need for release. The pulsing around his cock grew more intense, as though it were pulling him deeper, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck…” he groaned your name, unable to stop himself now. He was lost in the sensation, lost in the thought of you, the connection between you both tightening with every second.

You could feel the climax rushing toward you, unstoppable, consuming every part of you. And as the force inside you thrust again, harder this time, it finally sent you over the edge.

A wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, the intensity of your orgasm ripping through you in shuddering waves. Your walls clenched down around the presence inside you, your body convulsing as pleasure coursed through you, lighting up every nerve. The release was overwhelming, and you bit down harder on your hand, stifling the moan that tore from your throat as your climax consumed you.

But the relentless pounding didn’t stop. Whoever was fucking you wasn’t done with you just yet.

Mountain felt you reach your peak, the pulsing sensation inside the fleshlight intensifying to a point that left him breathless. The way your body clenched around him, as if you were riding the wave of ecstasy, sent a jolt of raw pleasure straight to his core. He could almost hear your moans, soft and desperate, echoing in his mind as he envisioned you lost in your climax, your body trembling beneath him.

With every thrust, he was drawn closer to the edge, the need for release building within him like a tidal wave, crashing and surging. The connection felt electric, transcending the physical boundaries of your separate spaces, and it was almost overwhelming. As you shuddered in pleasure, he could feel the warmth radiating from the fleshlight, as if it were feeding off your climax, drawing him in.

“Fuck!” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. The fleshlight tightened around him, almost as if it was responding to your release, and the sensation drove him wild. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, a primal urge that had him gasping for air.

As you soared through your orgasm, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust deeper, faster, losing himself completely in the moment. The world around him faded away, the only thing that mattered was the relentless pleasure coursing through him, the sensation of the silicone hugging him so tightly that it felt almost like a second skin.

With one final, powerful thrust, he reached his own peak. A wave of ecstasy crashed over him, his body convulsing as he spilled himself into the fleshlight. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips as he rode out the intense waves of pleasure, feeling as if he were floating in a sea of bliss.

His hips stuttered as he felt the last tremors of his release, each pulse sending shockwaves of satisfaction through him. The connection, the overwhelming sensations—it was all too much, and he reveled in it, letting it consume him entirely.

Panting, he collapsed back against the bed, still reeling from the intensity of it all. The fleshlight lay discarded beside him, the warmth and slickness inside a reminder of the wild connection they had just shared. He could still feel the lingering echoes of your climax intertwining with his own, leaving him breathless and yearning for more.

What had just happened? It felt like more than just a fantasy—it felt like something deeper, something that blurred the lines of reality and desire. He found himself staring at the ceiling, a mix of confusion and exhilaration coursing through him. The next time he saw you, everything would change.

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SWEET DREAMS

Summary: Being a manager for the Inazarki volleyball club wasn't easy, especially dealing with their chaos. They had made great friends because of it and had caught some attention as well, especially from Miya Osamu. For him, having a crush on the manager isn't ideal but it wasn't anything that he can control. The worst thing about it, watching your crush already be in a relationship with your teammate.

Genre: friends to lovers, angst, drama, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, teasing, suggestive themes.

Taglist: open

CHAPTER FIVE

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

[Taglist]: open

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snoowply

4 months ago

NO PAIN NO GAIN ! H. IWAIZUMI

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ new year’s resolution: don’t fall on the treadmill or for your hot gym instructor

cw: suggestive, crude humour, language, kys jokes

masterlist

for @aozui & @s6rine my beloveds

a/n: this wasn’t funny at all sorry. i had a vision but it was poorly executed.

div creds @.ianrkives , @.cafekitsune

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snoowply

3 months ago

press start! — bonus #1

prev | masterlist | next

a/n: GUYS this isnt atsumu slander i swear!!! i love him i spun a wheel to decide who it would be!! i would never!!!

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snoowply

8 months ago

Warm Me Up

Summary: A freak storm has you and Hunter seeking shelter in a cave. The desperation to get warm has some hidden feelings coming to light.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, confession of feelings, snow storms, almost freezing to death (not really but close), hypothermia, survival skills, cuddling for warmth, fucking to survive, cock warming (literally and figuratively), post Order 66, bit of an AU

A/N: I am once again bringing you Hunter and reader fucking to survive only under different circumstances. I have been in a Hunter mood lately so you are welcome.

Thank you @starrylothcat for the idea for this one.

MASTERLIST

It’s cold.

The wind whips around you, finding every crack and crevice in your armor, numbing your skin. The storm had blown in out of nowhere, whipping big, wet snowflakes at you on a wind so strong it was hard to stand up straight. It’s a near whiteout, and even Hunter is struggling to break trail in front of you.

He stops, turning to look at you a couple feet behind him, half to make sure you’re still following him. “There’s a cave up ahead.” He says, voice barely audible over the wind through the comms.

Your fingers are going numb. You’d lost feeling in your feet not long after the storm started, already having been trekking through ankle deep snow. “Lead the way, Sarge.” You mumble, trying to convince your legs to start moving again.

It’s slow moving for the few hundred yards until you see the mountainside jutting out in the blizzard. As you get closer, you can see the dark opening of the mouth of the cave like a monster waiting to devour you. You hope that’s not the case, but you suppose a monster’s mouth would be warmer than out here.

You follow Hunter inside, the torch in his hand illuminating the small cavern. It’s not very wide, your shoulders would probably touch the walls if you stood side by side, but it’s deep enough to keep you from the howling wind outside.

You’re shivering, teeth chattering as you stand in the dark cave. The storm was blocking your comms, preventing you from reaching the Marauder. This was supposed to be a quick mission, which was why you and Hunter had gone alone, leaving the others with the ship. Tech had assured you both the weather was going to be clear for the foreseeable future.

You’re going to have words with him when you get back.

“Kriff, it’s cold.” Hunter says, scanning the back of the cave before determining it clear.

He turns back around, his torch illuminating your shivering figure. Neither of you had real cold weather gear, and Hunter’s armor was better protection against it than yours.

“How are your toes?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Numb.” You say, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around your face.

“And your fingers?” He asks.

You lift your hands, fingers fumbling in an attempt to get your gloves off. He shines the torch on your exposed extremities as soon as they hit the floor, a curse crackling through his helmet. Your fingers are discolored and stiff, trembling as more shivers wrack your body.

“We need to get warm.” He says, pulling you back towards the back of the cave. “We won’t last the night at this rate.”

“H-How do we do that?” You stutter out between your chattering teeth. You were both ill prepared for this situation.

“Take your clothes off.”

You’re glad the cave is dark as the words leave Hunter’s mouth, the torch pointing at the wall as he removes his pack. You’re worried you may start steaming in embarrassment from the direct order.

You’ve been harboring a crush on him for a while. It started during one of your first missions with them. Of course, you thought he was handsome when you first met him, but you didn’t start developing feelings until he saved your life. You were relatively new to combat, though fighting wasn’t anything new, and you had failed to see the explosive at your feet. Hunter had pulled you out of the way and shielded you with his body.

He’d had his helmet on, but you couldn’t forget the way his hand felt on your arm, the way he looked hovering over you. You thought about it a lot. You still do.

You had fallen in love with him after the war ended, and he had willingly gone toe-to-toe with Tarkin to keep you on the squad. Tarkin had wanted to reassign you, but Hunter had insisted you were part of Clone Force 99 and they wouldn’t be as efficient without you.

You hadn’t dared act on it, though. He was technically your superior and you were not about to try pushing those boundaries. Plus, he’d never shown any interest in you in that way, and the last thing you wanted was to do was make things awkward.

You also just haven’t had time.

Between the Empire and deserting and being on the run and adjusting to having a literal child on board, you had little downtime for much else. You know Hunter’s stressed and has been feeling the effects of trying to keep everyone alive and deciding what to do next.

The last thing you want to do is throw your feelings on him too.

And now here he is, asking you to get naked in a cave with him.

“What?” You stutter out, looking up at him, his face barely visible. He’s removed his helmet.

“Our clothes are wet. We can’t get warm wearing wet clothes. We’ll risk hypothermia, or worse.” He explains, his helmet hitting the ground with a thud. “Seeing as how we don’t know how long this storm will last and if we’ll be able to reach the Marauder by comm when it does end, getting warm is our priority.”

His voice is so steady, so strong, reflecting every bit of the leader he is.

This is moving much faster than you had expected. You’d thought maybe a nice dinner, or a walk on the beach, at least something before your clothes started coming off. Of course, survival was different. You would like to keep your toes if possible.

Your numb fingers fumble to get your pack off as Hunter turns his back, digging through his pack. You’re glad for the darkness and the privacy as you tug at your own armor, fingers fumbling with clasps and straps as you slowly drop pieces onto the ground.

You pause as Hunter turns slightly, putting something on the floor. The cave lights with a soft yellow glow of a heat lamp, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth. So you weren’t going to freeze completely. The walls of the cave glitter with frost, your breath visible in the air as you continue to strip out of your armor.

You hesitate once your armor is off, staring at Hunter’s back. He’s making slow work of his armor, setting each piece in a pile next to his pack. You’ve watched them carefully stack their armor over and over. They always show it such reverence, though you suppose if it is your lifeline and one of your few belongings, you would treat it as such too. They always stack it in a way that would be quickest to get it back on and you can’t help but wonder if they practiced it. How fast can they get in and out of their armor if the need arose?

You bend over your pack, fumbling through its contents before your fingers hit what you’re looking for. One of the spare GAR blankets that came in each survival kit the squad carried. Working separate from larger battalions meant you had to carry more supplies with you for situations like this one.

You could cry as you pull the scratchy blanket from your pack.

You would cry, except that it feels like all liquid is frozen in your body.

You hesitate, eyeing Hunter’s back before you begin peeling your wet blacks off, goosebumps forming on your skin as it's exposed to the cold air in the cave. You fight off a shiver, shuffling closer to the heat lamp as you peel the rest off. You quickly wrap the blanket around your body, squatting down in front of the heat lamp. You can already feel the warmth from them on your exposed skin, toes starting to tingle.

Your eyes move to Hunter, his back still turned to you. You swallow thickly as he tugs the top of his blacks over his head, revealing his back. Your eyes trail the tattoo on the right side until it disappears under his blacks. You’ve seen them all in various states of undress before. It was impossible in a confined space like the barracks or the Marauder.

There had never been any insinuation, no lingering stares when you’d done a quick change. They were always so respectful, always so kind.

You felt bad for ogling them sometimes.

You quickly tuck your face in the blanket as Hunter tugs his pants down, praying you don’t start steaming. You want to look, you so badly want to look, but the last thing you need is to get caught being a creep.

Hunter moves closer to you, spreading something on the ground behind you. You nearly jump as his hand touches your back, warm through the blanket against your cold skin. He’s squatting next to you, very close to you as you peek out from your blanket.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, those stupid big, brown eyes shining in the low light from the heat lamp.

You stare at him for a moment before you nod. He pulls the blanket from the death grip you have around it, eyes never leaving yours as he opens it up, slipping his arms inside. His bare skin meets yours, turning you until your back is to his chest. He maneuvers you so easily so you’re laying on the blanket he had spread on the ground, curling his body around yours before draping your blanket across you both.

He sighs as he settles into place, his hand trailing down your arm. His hand is calloused from years of hard training, rough against your frigid skin. “Kriff, you’re freezing.” He murmurs, pulling you tighter against his chest.

Your breath hitches as his skin meets yours, cold but not nearly as frozen as yours. You can feel every ridge of muscle, every line, every divot of his body. You can feel all of him. You try not to think about it, try not to picture every fantasy you’ve had, every daydream of being in this very position with him.

Instead you focus on your shivering, the chill slowly abating as your shared warmth cumulates under the blanket. You can feel the heat lamp on your face, slowly thawing your frozen cheeks. You can also feel Hunter’s breath fanning over the top of your head.

You let your eyes drift closed, trying to avoid the thoughts racing through your head. You’re naked. Hunter’s naked. You’re very, very close. You’ve imagined this moment many, many times. Of course, it’s always under different circumstances. Normally in your fantasies, he’d hold you like this after you fucked, or on those short trips between missions when you try to get as much rest as possible. In the deeper fantasies you wake in his arms in your quiet home, the early morning light shining through the window. You’d grind against him, teasing him until he slipped inside you, making sweet love to you as you have all the time in the world, and no cares whatsoever.

Heat begins to bloom in your belly. You know it’s not just from the warmth beginning to return to you. You desperately fight it, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs and instead focus on the roaring of the wind outside the cave, the painful throbbing in your toes, the scratchiness of the blanket, anything.

Hunter shifts just slightly behind you, letting out a long breath. Kriff, he can probably smell it. He could probably smell it before your body even started reacting. He knows. He knows.

You shift slightly, ignoring the way your thighs slide a little too easily against each other. “Sorry.” You breathe, nervously tugging on the edge of the blanket.

He hums, his fingers trailing down your front. He presses his palm against your belly, causing your breath to hitch. He shifts his legs and suddenly there’s something pressing against your ass. Something hard. “Nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.” He murmurs in your ear, his voice so low and deep you can feel it vibrating through your back.

"Hunter?" You ask, staring at the heat lamp.

He hums, pressing closer to you, his breath fanning your ear.

Your breath catches in your throat, your exhale shaky. "I'm still cold. Could you warm me up a little more?"

His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you firmly against him as his lips meet the skin of your neck. He kisses a line from your ear to the junction of your shoulder, the hand that had been planted on your stomach slowly sliding lower. It slips between your thighs, grabbing one and lifting it over his hip. Your hands cling to the arm wrapped around you as he slides his fingers down your inner thigh. Your body is shivering for a different reason now.

You gasp quietly as his fingers trail over your wet slit, hips pushing into his hand. It’s so much better than your fantasies, those dexterous fingers flicking over your clit.

“All this just for me?” He murmurs in your ear, his voice low and rough.

“Yes,” You gasp, nails biting into his skin as he works you up. “Been thinking of this for a long time.”

“I know.” He says, sinking a finger into you. “I could sense it. At first I could smell it. I always wondered what you were thinking about.” He slips a second finger into you. “Didn’t take long to figure it out.” He kisses the side of your head. “Your heart rate would jump. Sometimes I’d smell it while you were looking at me. I was flattered. A gorgeous woman like you thinking about me like that.”

You wiggle in his arms, just enough so you can see his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He pauses his movements, his fingers stilling inside you. “Didn’t want to complicate things. Then everything happened with the Empire and I just haven’t had the right moment.”

“Fair.” You say, eyes dropping to his lips. “Not a whole lot of places to do things like this in the ship.”

He grins. “No, especially not with the others there.” His thumb brushes over your clit, fingers starting to thrust into you once more. “I’m going to find us a safe place to stay.” He says, words broken by kisses as he trails them up your neck. “Build us a home with lots of privacy.” He kisses across your face to the corner of your lips. “So we can do this whenever we want.”

You hum, backing away from his lips before he can kiss you. “Usually I require a date first, but I’ll make an exception.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He says, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I promise.”

You close the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you softly, lips slightly chapped from the cold. His fingers continue to move inside you, curling to find that spot that has your legs shaking. His thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to sweet release.

You whine against his lips as you cum around his fingers, soaking his hand with your release. He pulls away from your lips, withdrawing his hand before he lifts his fingers, taking them into his mouth. You watch, slack-jawed as he sucks his fingers clean.

“Fuck buying me dinner,” You say, rolling around to face him. “If you’re gonna act like that you can skip all those steps.”

He laughs, rolling on top of you. It’s a mirror of the moment you first began to have feelings, when he’d saved your life. You suppose he also saved your life again in this situation. Perhaps he needs to save your life more often if it’s going to end with him on top of you.

He lowers himself down, pressing his lips to yours once more. You kiss him hard, tangling a hand in his hair. You’ve always wanted to touch it, always wanted to run your fingers through it, pull on it to see if it makes him moan. You file that away for another day.

He’s hard, pressed against your stomach. His hips rock against you, dragging his cock along your skin. You slide your hands down his back, grabbing a handful of his ass. You’ve always wanted to grab it, having spent way too much time memorizing the shape of his body. His broad shoulders and thin waist and round ass and thick thighs.

He really is the perfect man.

“Fuck,” He moans, pulling away from your lips to press himself up.

He’s away just long enough to line his cock up, your legs parting even wider for him. You both moan as he sinks into you, your sensitive walls fluttering around the intrusion. You pull him back against you, securing him tightly to your chest. His lips find yours again, kissing and biting as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow, working you open for him. It feels better than you could ever imagine, better than your fantasies could come up with. You’re no longer cold, even your toes warmed by his body and his touch. The air in the cave even feels warm, the blizzard outside nothing compared to the fire ignited beneath your skin at Hunter’s touch.

You move your hips as he picks up speed, your bodies moving fluidly together. You let go, moaning as loud as you can. You don’t care if you accidentally wake some beast deep in the mountains. You want the whole galaxy to know how good Hunter makes you feel.

Hunter grunts and moans above you, snapping his hips into you. You cling onto him as you begin to feel the burning low in your stomach, the coil tightening more and more as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me.” Hunter growls, nipping at your lower lip. “Let me feel you.”

You cry out his name as you cum, back arching in pleasure. He’s not far behind you, his head falling back as he stutters to a stop, filling you with his cum. You let him fall on top of you, wrapping your arms around him.

He lays there, both of you catching your breaths. He’s heavy, a solid weight, but you don’t complain. He’s warm, and he makes you feel safe. He kisses your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. He groans, already starting to go hard inside you again.

***

You wake to a bright light in your eyes. You squint, ducking your head down under the blanket. Hunter groans, shifting his arms around you. It’s quiet outside, far quieter than it had been last night.

“Storms over.” Hunter rasps, not making any attempt to move.

He’s still inside you, his softened cock tucked inside your pussy. You’d fallen asleep after the third round, the exhaustion finally taking over after you were thoroughly warmed. You don’t really want to get up. You don’t really want to move. You know the others have to be worried, after all you hadn’t been able to contact them after the storm blew in. You’re not even sure how far you are from the Marauder.

It may be a bit selfish, but you wish you could stay here. Build yourselves a tiny home in this cave and never leave. Just the two of you, alone, like your fantasies had once consisted of.

You know it’s not possible now. You couldn’t abandon the others like that, and you could never convince Hunter to abandon Omega, not that you would ever want to. You’ll just have to find a place to build a big enough house for all of you.

“We should get up.” Hunter says, still not making any attempts to move. “The others will be worried.”

You hum, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Five more minutes?”

He chuckles, lifting your chin so he can kiss you. “I suppose five minutes won’t hurt anything.”

Taglist:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

761 notes View Post

snoowply

3 months ago

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮♡♥♡

Kageyama Tobio X Reader SMAU fic

✎ ..0.5 ROSE

↳ where feelings blossom (again)

m.list. previous. next.

Kageyama's heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.

Not only had he just suffered the worst loss to date, a match against Aoba Johsai he swore to himself he'd win, but y/n was there to witness the whole thing.

She had watched his past self rise and fall, she was here, he wanted so badly to show her and his old teammates how far he's come. He wanted to show everyone that he wasn't "the king of the court" anymore, he was so much more than that now. He wanted to win.

This loss meant everything, his world felt as though it crumbled when the ball hit the floor for the last time on his side of the court. When the whistle blew and his old teammates cheered.

Minutes ago his loss consumed him, now there he stood peering down at his hands, in them he held a singular rose.

The rose was a deep red color, it had blossomed beautifully. To him this rose meant much more than his loss. This rose was a symbol of being seen by the one he wanted to be seen by all those years ago.

Her words lingered in his mind, "I can tell how far you've come, Tobio." his chest tightened.

The smile she presented to him when she held the rose out to him wasn't one of pity, instead it was sunny. and true. It was something that made his own self pity wash away like rain down a drain after a storm.

Y/n was Kageyama's crush in middle school although he doesn't like to think of it that way its very much true. He admired her ability to get along, her kindness and reassurance it was like her own talent.

Kageyama Tobio is aware of what an asshole he was in middle school, he knows how he'd lash out at others and push them away, yet it was like y/n found a way to be there no matter what.

She'd wash his towels and fill his bottles even when he yelled, she'd leave notes saying good luck in his bag the night before a game even when he refused to take advice from anyone.

Those notes were what kept him going aside from his burning passion.

When they both graduated from middle school he accepted that nothing would happen especially because everyone hated him. Why would she want anything to do with him?

He tried not to think of it and for a while it worked. He forgot about her and again his world was consumed by volleyball.

Until he saw her face in the crowd again.

Now there he was fighting back the blush that crept to his cheeks. Y/n had given him a rose.

"KAGEYAMAAA!! WERE GETTING ON THE BUS! HURRY UP!!"

taglist: @loveyislost @frootloopscos @state-of-grac3

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snoowply

3 months ago

FIFTEEN SECONDS — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: female reader, friends to lovers, love confession, fluff, bit of comedy. word count: 1,2k.

note: here’s a little something for valentine’s day, hope you like it!

What should I say?

“Here.” No, too dry.

“Here, it’s for you.” Shit, still too dry.

“I bought this for you, I hope you like it.” Okay, that one wasn’t so bad.

For the past ten minutes, Kiyoomi had been locked in a brutal staring contest with the small black box sitting on the café table. The thing wasn’t even looking at him, and yet he was the one losing.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

He had bought the damn gift two weeks ago. Two weeks of overthinking, of waiting for the perfect moment, of nearly shoving it to the back of his closet out of sheer nerves. But then Valentine’s Day crept up on him, and he thought—maybe this was fate giving him a chance.

Or setting him up for humiliating rejection.

Kiyoomi had rehearsed this moment in his head. And still, here he was, breaking into a nervous sweat over a bracelet. What if you didn’t like it? What if you thought it was stupid? What if you liked someone else?

Then, in the middle of his internal crisis, a familiar voice nearly made him jump.

“Hey, Kiyoomi.”

He looked up so fast he almost knocked the gift off the table. There you were, standing in front of him with that impossibly pretty smile, your presence alone enough to make his pulse go haywire.

“Did you already order, or should I—?” You asked as you sat down in front of him.

“I already did.” He forced his voice to stay steady. “Iced latte with two shots of vanilla, right?”

Your smile grew. “You know me so well.”

Yeah, because I’m hopelessly in love with you.

The words were right there. On the tip of his tongue.

Relax, Kiyoomi. Ease into it.

That was the smart thing to do. You didn’t just shove a confession at someone out of nowhere—there should be a conversation first, something natural.

“So, uh…” He wracked his brain for something—anything—normal to say. “How’s work?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “It’s fine?”

What the hell was that, Kiyoomi? It was comical how his calm and collected personality seemed to disappear at this moment when he needed it most. Was love always this complicated? Or was it because it was about you?

You tilted your head. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he was absolutely not okay. His fingers tapped anxiously against the small box. The longer he waited, the worse this was getting. His nerves were eating him alive. He could already feel the impending doom of chickening out.

Screw it.

With zero transition or warning, he grabbed the box and shoved it across the table. “Here.”

Goddamn it.

You blinked in surprise. “For me?”

A stiff nod. This was fine. You’d open it, love it, and then he’d tell you. Smooth. Simple. Foolproof.

Except…

You were taking your sweet time untying the ribbon.

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to do it for you. Why were you so slow? Was this some kind of test? Did you already know he was panicking and just wanted to see him suffer?

Finally, you lifted the lid. Your lips parted as you took out the delicate silver bracelet, the small star charm catching the café’s warm light.

“Oh, Kiyoomi…” You breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

His fingers twitched under the table as your eyes widened slightly. “Wait… this is—”

Kiyoomi looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the café menu on the wall. “Yeah.”

Your fingers traced the charm, realization dawning. “This is the bracelet from that shop at the mall, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

You turned to him, eyes suspiciously bright. “You went back for it?”

Kiyoomi picked up his coffee, taking a slow sip as if that would somehow make this moment less humiliating. “You wouldn’t stop staring at it.”

“I looked at it for like, five seconds.”

“It was at least fifteen.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

This was it. The perfect moment.

He took a breath, preparing to say the words that had been stuck in his chest for way too long.

“I—” He began, but the words he had rehearsed for days were interrupted when a waiter appeared at the table.

“Here’s your order! One vanilla iced latte and one black coffee.”

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might crack a tooth. Not now, man.

He nodded stiffly as you thanked the waiter. Okay, fine. Minor setback.

“What were you saying?” You asked after the guy turned around, taking a sip from your drink.

His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Now. Now is the time. Just say it: I like you.

Kiyoomi opened his mouth, determined to do it, but then—

“Do you need any sugar?”

Oh my god.

Kiyoomi glared at the waiter. Who was back. Did this man have a vendetta against his love life?

He mumbled a half-hearted, “No, thanks.”

“Cream?”

“No, thanks.”

“Any appetizer? We have a special red velvet cake because of Valentine's Day.”

Was this a joke?

“We’re fine.”

“Actually, I want a slice of cake.” You said.

Before the waiter could leave, Kiyoomi muttered, “Make that two.”

The guy finally left, and he was beginning to get irritated by his bad luck.

Just do it now! He scrambled at himself mentally.

“Y/N, I bought–” He hurried to say, but then the loud hiss from the blender machine drowned out his voice.

Was this the universe making fun of him?

By now, he was one more interruption away from actually losing it. So, ignoring the annoying noise, he decided to just keep going, “I bought this because–”

“Oh! Look at that dog outside.”

Kiyoomi stopped mid-sentence as you turned to the window, grinning at a fluffy golden retriever wagging its tail on the sidewalk. Are you serious?

But, when he turned back to you, you were watching him with amusement.

You two made eye contact for a few seconds, he blinked, you blinked, and then— you laughed.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What?”

You smirked. “Kiyoomi, don’t be so shy.”

His stomach dropped.

“I like you too.”

For a full three seconds, his brain just ceased to function.

You… what?

His ears burned. His grip tightened on his cup. His entire soul left his body. “You knew?”

You giggled, tapping his hand lightly. “Of course. I actually got something for you too.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small gift box, setting it on the table in front of him. Kiyoomi tried—really tried—not to look too eager as he picked it up and carefully lifted the lid.

Inside was a watch. The watch. The one he had lingered on in the mall that day.

“You looked at it for at least fifteen seconds.” You teased, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

Kiyoomi froze. His fingers tightened around the box as the realization sank in.

You had noticed. Just like he had noticed you staring at the bracelet. You both had thought of each other.

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His throat felt tight, his chest oddly warm. He looked up at you, something soft, something real in his gaze.

“This is—”

“Here they are! Two slices of red velvet cake!”

Kiyoomi visibly twitched.

Oh, come on!

759 notes View Post

snoowply

7 months ago

Buck as the eternal playboy but folding the second the reader hits on him back? Maybe corner him against a wall for funsies >:)

THE LONG GAME — E.BUCKLEY

flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck’s not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.

cw— 16+ for suggestiveness, alcohol, lots of flirting, chimney being a cockblock rip, buck is so sexually frustrated rip

evan buckley x gn!reader || ???? || 3.1k || masterlist!

part two — finish line.

Arguably the best part about your job was being able to celebrate a job well done.

That feeling of accomplishment after getting through a really tough call with nothing but a positive outcome.

The team never went half-assed on the celebrations, and you’re sure that the bar you all frequent post-shift knows you all by name by now from how often you all abandon your nights to spend an extra few hours in each other’s company.

That was another thing you loved about your job. The team. Your family.

You could spend 24 straight hours with them and they’d still make an excuse to spend a few more with everyone.

Today was no different. You rolled up to the bar in a tight-circle, eerily resembling the professional attitude you had to display during your work hours, one not yet shed considering it’d only been three-quarters of an hour since your shift ended.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, you’d all be too drunk to care about professionalism soon enough. Well except Bobby anyway.

You barely had time to walk through the front doors before Buck was running up to the bar to order everyone a round of drinks, a confident smirk etched on his face that only grew as the local news recounted the story of one of they day’s earlier calls with civilian footage.

“I wonder who that is,” He nudges your side as you walk over, cockiness washing all over his face as he nods up towards the TV hanging up by the ceiling. “They look pretty badass,”

You give him an almost dismissive hum as you pick up one of the glasses from the cluster to take a sip of the craft beer filling it. “I wonder,”

“Oh come on, you’re all over the news,” He gives you another small nudge. “You’re practically famous right now,”

He leans in towards you to talk over the music, reaching over to grab a pint glass of his own and clinking it animatedly against yours before taking a swig from it.

“He’s right you know,” Hen gives you nudge herself, joined by an enthusiastic thumbs up from Chimney behind her. “Own it,”

“Right? you pulled a whole superhero move,” Buck motions up towards the news broadcast again, where they are still replaying a clip of you kicking through a pane of reinforced glass on a high-rise from on top of the roof as an alternative method of entry to the collapsed stairwell on the inside.

“Sounds like you’re projecting Buckley, jealous?” You raise your eyebrow with an air of amusement as you take another swig from your glass.

“Absolutely not, in fact, I’m the opposite of jealous right now,” He leans in towards you again so that your shoulders brush together. “It was hot,”

“Okay horndog,” You roll your eyes at his comment, pushing away his face with the palm of your hand pressed to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants will you?”

He does nothing but laugh at the way you scold him, allowing you your personal space as he sits up straight once more.

Buck’s ability to flirt his way through any situation was honestly mildly impressive, how he managed to twist any situation into having a sensual undertone no matter what it was.

Last week it was Eddie carrying a sandbag into the station gym. The week before that it was the fact that Hen had cut a slice of lasagna for him instead of him doing it himself.

And apparently this week’s target was you. For jumping off a roof and shattering a glass window with your feet.

You’d question his taste if you didn’t know he was joking.

Although as the night went on and the table became increasingly cluttered with empty glasses, you started to question whether it was actually a joke.

Whether it was some quirk of his personality, or something more serious.

They say that drunk words are sober thoughts right? And Buck was definitely drunk and definitely spouting some choice words right now.

He whistles as you pot one of the striped balls on the pool table, his competitiveness all but disappeared underneath the haze that his alcohol consumption had laid over his brain. “Skilled with your feet and your hands? You’re just about every guy’s dream,”

He leans across the pool table to aim his shot, pool cue horribly aimed to the point where the cue ball barely skims the solid red ball he was aiming for. “Probably every girl’s dream too actually,”

“Instead of trying to kiss my ass, maybe you should focus on actually playing the game,” You genuinely can’t tell by this point whether his poor skills were an effect of the alcohol running through his system or if he was doing it on purpose just to get under your skin.

If there was one thing you did, it was play fair, and that included not letting your opponent give you an easy win.

“Oh how I would love to kiss that ass,” He makes an exaggerated show of leaning backwards to get a clear view, giving you another short whistle as you lean over the table to line up your next shot.

“Win the game and maybe i’ll let you,”

You swear you can see the moment his mind fractures, enunciated by another striped ball falling into one of the pockets and you lining up another shot.

He’s like a robot doing a hard reset, his eyes staring blankly at you like he physically cannot comprehend that you’d actually say something like that.

You don’t make your next shot, though whether by distraction from Buck’s eyes on the side of your face or your own drunken mistake you’re not entirely sure. Either way, when you straighten up to stand again, Buck hasn’t moved an inch.

“Go on, your turn,” You tap the side of his arm with your pool cue, amusement washing over your features as you watch him physically jolt from the contact and shake his head as if to physically shake off what you’d said to him.

Who knew such a casanova would get so flustered when someone played along with his little flirting game.

He ended up losing of course, you were far too much ahead for him to have a chance of catching up before you potted the eight ball and took the game, and you could swear there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes, and not because of the four solid colour balls still left on the table.

He didn’t even glance at them.

No, instead he kept his eyes firmly locked on you as you gloated your win.

“Now that is something to celebrate,” You lay your cue on the table with a victorious smirk. “Better luck next time I suppose,”

Your cockiness continues to flourish as you pot the remaining balls into the pockets and take Buck’s pool cue from him to lay it next to yours. “So what’s my reward then?”

”I- What?” He blinks at you a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as his mind tries to catch up to the conversation.

“Well we laid out what would happen if you won, so what do I get for actually winning?” You tilt your head to the side as you take a step towards him, arms crossed over your chest with your eyebrow raised. “Surely I deserve to be rewarded, no?”

“I can uh…I can buy you a drink…” Buck pursed his lips together, dry swallowing as he leant backwards against the pool table upon your approach. He honestly didn’t know what was coming over him. Why was he so ruffled under the collar about this?

This was his prime domain, so why was it the second that you mirrored his interest he shut down and started backtracking on himself like a highschooler?

“I think we’ve had enough drinks don’t you?” You take another step forward as he sits on the edge of the table, essentially boxing him in despite there being very easy escape points at both his right and his left. “Besides, I want to be sober enough to remember this tomorrow,”

What on earth did you mean by that?

God he felt pathetic right now, a 6’2, 220lbs man being boxed in against a pool table of all things by one of his extremely attractive coworkers because you’d had a sudden streak of confidence and decided to flip his advances back on himself.

“Uh…” He gives a small, half awkward chuckle as his eyes flicker to consciously remain focused on your own eyes and not fall downwards. He knew the uniforms were tight but god did he not notice how tight they were until he was having to physically restrain himself from looking further down. “Right well- uh- what do you want then..?”

Buck watched as your eyes left his to flicker downwards, not so far down that you were staring at his chest, but just far down enough that he could tell you had your attention on a part of his face that was not his eyes.

He’d blame the bright red of his cheeks on the drinks if you asked about it, but you seem far too enamoured by the way he nervously purses and bites his lips under your gaze to even so much as glance at anything else.

“You know what I want..?” You break your staring to meet his eyes again, although you still make the time to turn your eyes down to his mouth again during the breaks between words.

He swears you’re leaning in with every word, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t leaning in himself, a sharp, stuttered breath escaping his lips as you get close enough so your breath fans across his cheeks. “I think so…”

You give a small hum at his answer, lips quirking into a smile as you narrow your gaze and tilt your head slightly to the left so that your noses don’t bump together as you bring your faces within an inch of each other.

His lips part on instinct, breathing a whisper of air into your mouth as he anticipates the contact with closed eyes.

“I want you to stop drinking my orange juice,”

The tension in his shoulders seems to drop at your statement, and his eyes shoot back open as you pull yourself back to stand fully upright, absolute delight drenching your features as you read the waves of shock and dissatisfaction that roll over him at the sudden change in atmosphere. “What?-”

He was so close. So close to having your lips on his. And you ripped it away from him with that stupidly hot smirk on your face like you knew exactly what you were doing.

You definitely knew what you were doing.

“In the station, I know it’s you,” You explain yourself like it’s no big deal, like you weren’t centimetres from giving Buck what he’d been pining for for so goddamn long a few seconds ago. “Buy your own juice,”

“I- Seriously?” Exasperation practically drowns his voice as he speaks, and he narrows his gaze with an air of desperation that makes you want to give him exactly what he wants. “You pretend you’re going to kiss me and then tell me not to drink your goddamn orange juice? Not cool man,”

“Maybe you shoulda won the game, I don’t know what to tell you,” You shrug your shoulders with an air of nonchalance that only you would be able to muster in a situation like this, and it frustrates Buck beyond all belief.

“That’s not fair,” Buck shakes his head as he stands. “I didn’t know you were being serious,”

“Well that’s just too bad isn’t it?” You clasp your hands together with a tilt of your head.

“No, we’re not just gonna move on okay?” It’s Buck’s turn to approach you now, his hands emphasising his words as he waves them in front of himself. “I have waited so long for you to suggest you were interested in me you cannot just back out like nothing happened,”

You swerve his approach with a laugh to walk around the side of the pool table, like his frustration is the funniest thing in the world to you and not literally tearing him apart with every moment you try to brush off the lingering tension between you. “You are way too pent up about this,”

“I am the exact right amount of pent up about this,” He follows you around the table to box you in as you did him, except this time there’s really no escape as he plants his hands firmly against the edge of the table on either side of you. “You can’t just lean in like you’re going to kiss me and bail right at the last second,”

“I thought you liked the long game,” You cross your arms over your chest as a deflection from the way your heart rate quickens, trying to cover the increase in how fast your chest rises and falls under the gaze he’s trapped you in.

“I’ve played long enough,” He leans his weight on his arms, bringing his face towards yours slowly. “I need to know if I’ve won,”

“I’d say so,” Your eyes are much less confident now the roles have been reversed, struggling to maintain contact with his as his face continues its steady path towards your own.

“Prove it.” You’re close enough now that you can feel the breath from every word he speaks on your skin, and his intentions are laid out very clearly as his gaze falls from your eyes to your lips.

He is going to kiss you if you don’t do anything to stop him.

He wants to taste the mix of alcohol on salt on your lips, explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He wants to feel the heat of your palms against his cheeks as you cup his face to stop him from pulling away and make you kiss him until neither of you can breathe.

He’s waited long enough to have you like this, and after your previous stunt, he’s not sure he can physically last much longer before he explodes from the frustration.

The way his hands slide from resting on the table either side of you to holding your hips solidifies that point tenfold.

He gives your waist a soft tug until your torso collides with his, and you have to brace your hands against his shoulders to stop yourself from losing your balance and stumbling right into him.

And then he’s leaning in again, his eyes flickering over your expression to look for any trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your features before he makes the final move.

And then there’s a shot glass between your faces.

“Shots?”

Chimney, ever horrible at reading the room —probably because he’s so drunk he can barely stand upright anymore— holds up two shots towards the two of you, one in each hand. “They’re on me~” He adds that extra part at the end as the true selling point, and it takes all of Buck’s self-restraint to not knock the glasses out out Chimney’s hand to make him leave the two of you alone.

You don’t seem so agitated.

“Why thank you,” You break from Buck’s grasp to take one of the shots from Chimney’s hand, raising it in Buck’s direction. “Here’s to playing the long game,”

You down the shot quickly, leaving the empty glass on the edge of the pool table to rejoin the group at the bar, leaving Buck alone and so goddamn sexually frustrated he genuinely thinks he might pass out from the strain.

You know exactly what you’re doing by dragging this out, and he has half the mind to prove your idea of ‘safety’ from his advances in the group wrong by sending his conscience to hell and giving in to his inhibitions in front of everyone.

But he’s not quite drunk enough to push it that far. Even if most of the team wouldn’t remember it if he did.

“So that’s a no on the shot?” Chimney raises the remaining shot glass in Buck’s direction, seemingly completely oblivious to the colossal cockblock he’d just imposed.

“If you weren’t so drunk right now I would punch you I swear-” Buck huffs as he all but snatches the glass from Chimney’s hand and downs the shot in exasperation, the sharp burn in his throat doing nothing to distract him from the ache in his chest from having a possible moment from you ripped from underneath his nose again in the span of less than ten minutes.

“Woah, what did I do?” Chimney furrows his eyebrows in offence at Buck’s statement. “We’re supposed to be family man, last time I buy you anything,” He scoffs in indignation as he leaves Buck to join the rest of the group once more, clearly unhappy with Buck’s reception to his ‘gift’ of a free shot.

A free shot and a missed shot at finally making a move on you.

He knew that come your next shift you’d ignore everything that had happened tonight, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to the silent glances and subtle gestures. He wanted all of you, not just some aimless flirting that never went anywhere.

At least he had confirmation that you were in fact interested in him, that was a step forward in the right direction he supposes.

But god was the long game starting to get on his nerves.

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snoowply

3 months ago

LOVE THIS SM BOO!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️