#tight jeans my beloved

[im-an-anthusiast]

It's more of an unbutton-up to me. (Ignore the fact that that is a blouse)

[the-kipsabian]

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Me writing my fic: and then he........... Would he reach under his shirt or unbutton his shirt

Realizing I have no idea what Ed is wearing: FUCK ME

I need yet another fit for a semi punk very rich GNC trans gay man going to divorce court and trying to seduce his lawyer but Also trying to seduce his ex husband's lawyer (much easier to do than the first thing)

You think you can get away with setting the tone for what they're wearing in the beginning and then never think about it again and then suddenly you have to describe the clothes on the floor smh

[oneforthemunny]

autumn changes |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie take bea to the farmer's market to pick out a pumpkin.

still on my fall shit lol. feeling hormonal and longing for a child, so a domestic soft dad!mafia!eddie x mom!reader fic was in order bc i said so lol. very fluffy and sweet.

“What about the big white ones?” You pointed across the aisle, stepping towards the wooden crate filled with ‘Cinderella Pumpkins’ as the chalk sign read. 

“Oh, look at these Bea, you know what they call these?” You cooed at the little toddler, bouncing her lightly on your hip, her cheek pressed to your shoulder, knuckling her eyes sleepily. The three year old was still a little grumpy about being woken up from her car ride nap. 

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, closing in on you, eyes scanning the crowds. “Stay close to me, alright?” 

You rolled your eyes. “We’re right here, Eddie.” Your tone clipped, shoulders tight with irritation. You knew his protectiveness came from a place of love, pure adoration and devotion for you and Bea both. Still, it was irritating. 

Eddie’s narrowed gaze pierced through you, even behind his darkened sunglasses. A tattooed hand sliding over your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in warning, the same way he used to when you two had first started dating. It sent a chilling thrill of excitement to your core, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small grin. 

“Look, Bumble Bee, these are called Cinderella Pumpkins.” Your voice lifted in a soft coo that had Eddie’s chest tightening with affection. 

“Princess?” Bea’s eyes lit up, perking up from her sullen state at the mention of one of her beloved Disney Princesses. Though she was favoring Jasmine these days, she was still a fan of any of them. 

“Mhm,” You hummed, holding her close to your chest. “What do you think, should we get those?” 

“Yes,” Bea wiggled, trying to push out of your arms, ready to get down and run around. “Get-Get the big one, Mommy.” She pointed a finger over towards the rather large white pumpkin on the ground. 

“The big one?” You gasped lightly, bouncing her on your hip so she shook with laughter, giggles trilling out in a soft screech. 

“You gotta ask Daddy if we can get the big one.” You muttered lightly, turning towards Eddie. “He’s the one who’s gotta carry it.” 

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, your cheek pressed to Bea’s, face to face; the two of you looked so alike. He always told you that. You’d roll your eyes, scoff and insist she was his twin, but he saw more of you in her every day. 

“Can we get the big one, Daddy?” Bea reached for Eddie, practically launching herself in his arms. “Please? I asked really, really nicely.” She curled into him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, looking up at him with big brown eyes rounded so sweetly- a look she definitely got from you. 

“You did ask nicely, thank you.” Eddie hummed, running a hand over her messy hair, tangled from the wind. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want one or two for the porch?” He looked at you, already reaching for his wallet in the back of his jeans. 

“Probably two. I can put them on either side of the door.” Eddie passed you his wallet, keeping a careful eye on you as you walked to the front to pay. He scanned the crowds again, letting Bea babble away to him about the different things she saw, humming in response lightly as he watched. Eddie knew Gareth was lurking around somewhere, no doubt scanning the crowds just as he was. 

“Hey, Ed,” You called, breaking him from his trance. “She said they have wheelbarrows you can borrow to load them to the car if you want.” 

“Oh,” Bea squealed, turning towards Eddie so quickly she almost hit him in the face. “Can I ride in the wheelbarrow?” 

“Ride in the wheelbarrow?” You parroted with a grin. “Why do you wanna ride in that, hm? Are you a pumpkin now?” 

“Nooo,” Bea giggled, leaning back to look at you. “I just wanna ride in it.” 

You eyed her playfully. “Hm, maybe if you ask nicely.”  

“Please?” Bea added quickly, already squirming to get out of Eddie’s arms, sending his heart lurching with panic. 

You didn’t seem bothered, pulling the wheelbarrow off the ground, maneuvering it towards the pumpkins. “Fine, but let me load these in first, ok?” 

“Let me get them.” Eddie clicked, reaching a hand out to stop you before you could wrangle the obnoxiously large pumpkin up. “I got it, baby. You hold her.” He passed Bea to you, bending down to lift the pumpkin, hoping his rings didn’t stab it like last time. 

“Are you going to help me decorate when we get home?” You cooed to Bea, swaying her lightly like you did when she was a newborn. You knew she was too old, all the parenting books told you that, but it was a habit- one that soothed the both of you. 

“Yes,” Bea grinned, curling in closer to you. “I’ll help you, Mama. We can put the bats up.” 

Eddie’s heart burst with warm joy at her soft sing-songy voice. For all his hesitation and terror about having a baby, he never knew he could love something so much. From the moment she was born, all seven pounds of screaming baby, he’d been so overwhelmed with a feeling of adoration he couldn’t begin to explain. Everyday it seemed to grow, for the both of you- his girls. 

Bea settled on top of the pumpkins, gripping the sides as Eddie pushed slowly over the graveled parking lot, her tiny giggles and squeals of laughter leaving you both beaming with pride. 

“Mama,” Bea turned, leaving both you and Eddie cringing in fear, for a moment, scared she would fall. “Can we make the pun’kins into carriages like on the real Cinderella?” 

“Sure, baby. I think we can craft that.” You smiled, speed stepping to stand beside her, a hand on her back to steady her. 

“We can put bats on them too so-so it’s scary.” Bea giggled. “Right? Because Halloweens ‘sposed to be scary, right, Daddy?” She turned to look at Eddie over her shoulder. 

“That’s right.” Eddie grinned, making his way towards the sleek black car in the parking lot- bigger than the luxury sports cars he had in the past. Safer now and bigger for a baby, his baby. 

You lifted Bea out of the wheelbarrow, carrying her around towards the backseat to buckle her into place, while Eddie loaded the pumpkins in. The car ride back was much louder than the one there, Bea babbling on and on to you and Eddie about Halloween, her costume, the decorations, what candy Grandpa Wayne would have this year. 

Eddie held your hand in between the console, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he allowed himself to relax just for a moment. He let himself feel at peace, safe in the serenity of the car with his family. 

[nuemanfilms]

UNEXPECTED || S.W

— He didn’t mean to be a pervert, that's not what he wanted to be, or what he thought he was.

Summary; It’d been four months since Sam was introduced to you as his roommate. In the span of those four months, he was starting to develop feelings. Maybe next time you should close your pantie drawer after you go out.

Content Warnings; Sam’s POV, m!masturbation, obsessive lustful behavior, mentions of teasing, Fem!reader is a sorority girl, pervert!sam, panty stealing, sam’s desires are mentioned, brief mentions of Sam’s time at Stanford.

A/N; Stanford!Pervy!Sam my beloved, just a little drabble, 500+

xoxo, roro <3

After you and your friends left to go to some sorority party, Sam was alone in the dorm.

He’d been roommates with you for four months. It was unexpected, he was settled in the dorm before a knock on the door came and there you were standing there. His first thought was probably how fucking gorgeous you were, his second thought was why did no one tell him he was having a roommate?

You’d distracted him all these months, despite the Winchester keeping his grades up, his eyes still trained on you everytime you walked in that classroom with the shortest skirt on. The frat boys to the playboys all had eyes for you, yet he somehow managed to gain your attention.

You’d been friends since then, he was surprised when you chose your assigned seat next to his for the rest of the year. All of your friends were on the other side of the classroom, but you made no move to switch seats through those months.

Sam eventually found himself gaining a crush on you.

He didn’t mean to be a pervert, that's not what he wanted to be, or what he thought he was. But it seemed like you were always teasing him by bending down in front of him or wearing those skirts knowing how much he liked them. God, the way you bit your lip when he was talking about his major in law. How he would explain his take on criminal justice and the law enforcement system. Your eyes always trained on his, and you always paid so close attention to each word spilling past his lips.

Now that you were gone, the ache in his boxers seemed to strain even more. He was alone. In your shared dorm, with your items. The outfit you wore when you went out the door lingered in his head. He remembered how he could see the tiniest bit of lace from your bra hanging on your shoulder. He wanted to be the one to rip it to shreds. He wanted to be the one to ruin those pretty panties of yours.

God, why did you always leave your dresser open?

He was unzipping his jeans, he’d removed his belt when he got back from a class with you since his jeans felt way too tight. The white lace was laid beside him on his bed.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he finally freed his length from its confines. Without hesitation this time, he wrapped your panties around his cock, his hand holding it in place as he began to thrust his hips up.

He’d never been this worked up in his life. Even watching those stupid pornos that Dean snuck home, he’d never gotten this fucking hard before. It was painful.

Precum dribbled from his tip that he soon collected with his thumb when the mental image of you came flooding back in his brain. Just using your panties had him on the verge of cumming. He wanted more, he needed more. But this would do for now.

His bangs were messy and stuck to his forehead from the sweat. Each time the lace came in contact with his tip, he let out a whimper. It felt so fucking good, he could only dream of how your pussy would feel wrapped around him.

His hand jerked faster, his mouth going agape as he felt himself edging closer. He didn’t bother in covering his moans. No one was here anyways.

Those pretty, pink lips that were coated with strawberry lip gloss haunted his thoughts, how he desired to see the tint smeared around his shaft. Watching the tears roll down your cheeks as he fucked himself into your throat. God, he craved to see the mascara smudged underneath your eyes.

He wanted to see his cum painting your face. He wanted to see you stick your tongue out as he came down your throat.

He let out a pathetic whine as the thick, white spurts coated his abdomen and the now ruined lace wrapped around his hand. His breaths were heavy. Yet lust still beamed in his eyes.

He was down bad.

[arlerts-angel]

Who do you think would be the most into dirty talk out of the AOT boys?? I can see Jean and Eren in particular being into it, but I feel like it's definitely not limited to just them 😫 No pressures to answer this, I'm not sure if you take requests for multiple characters at once so feel free to ignore this if you don't!

a/n: thank you for sending this in!! MWUAH i hope you enjoy 🤍 PHEW i'm dizzy!!! 😵‍💫❤️‍🔥

taglist: @la-undercover-latina @ringsofsaturnnnn @i-literally-cant-with-this @jeannineee @sleazymac-n-cheesy

warnings: multiple characters x fem!reader | pet names/light degradation: baby, pretty little slut, dirty girl, babygirl, princess, beautiful, angel | oral sex (m!receiving) | penetrative sex (piv) | light breeding kink (take a wild guess who) | sub-coded armin | reader is racially + bodily ambiguous! 🥰

ᯓ★ 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

☆ 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫

i think at the top of the ranking, eren jaeger is the king of dirty talk. he is vocal about everything happening. gritting his teeth, hissing, and cursing at the way your pussy sucks him in each time he thrusts into you.

"fuck baby, your pussy's so fuckin tight. feels so fucking good... aw, look you, dumb on my cock already. my pretty little slut. yeah baby, just like that. slam your ass back on my cock. gonna milk me dry. fuuuuuuuck..."

☆ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

coming in hot at the number 2 spot on my ranking is levi ackerman. i think levi doesn't overuse curses because he has some dignity, but he definitely likes to narrate as if you can't feel the bulge from the tip of his cock.

"can you feel how i deep i am inside you?... taking my cock so well. you make me feel so good... so fucking good. you like it when i talk like that, don't you? i can feel your pussy tighten around me when i do. dirty girl. you like to be talked to like a slut? fucked like one too, yeah?"

☆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

connie springer isn't much of a talker when he's fucking you... but when you're sucking him off he likes to praise the fuck out of you. he absolutely loves getting head and he'll make sure you know it.

"oh fuck... you look so sexy with my cock in your mouth baby... fuck yeah... just like that. you suck my dick so good babygirl... can't get enough of your mouth, princess. look at those pretty lips around my dick..."

☆ 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

number 4 on my list is jean kirstein. i think, much like levi, jean doesn't curse too much but really enjoys to praise you and your body and the heavenly things it does when you ride his dick.

"my pretty cowgirl. bounce those tits in my face baby. you're so beautiful... i love watching you ride me. yeah baby, just like that."

☆ 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭

the love of my life, armin arlert my beloved. unfortunately he's last on this list. this is just my personal opinion, but i see armin enjoying YOU doing the dirty talk 9 times out of 10. not to say that he doesn't, but i think a lot of us agree that he's a whimpering, whiny mess in the bedroom.

"o-oh god, a-angel... please don't s-stop–! i-i'm so close... so close... so fucking close. yeah, right there! right there! right there–! 'm gonna cum. gonna fill you and give you a baby..."

mdni + dividers by cafekitsune & benkeibear

[actuallysaiyan]

May I please have Smutty Prompts 11 and 19 for Ichigo? 😁

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, unprotected sex

You hadn’t been anticipating this at all. After all the two of you had gone through, making out with Ichigo was probably the last thing on your list of things you expected to happen. You had been friends for years and through all the crazy things in his life, you still stayed by his side. But to be in his bed with him, kissing like two horny teenagers…well you really never would have guessed it.

You tug on his orange hair, pulling a grunt from him. The two of you pull away for air, he’s got such a cute dumb little grin on his face. You can feel his erection pressing against you. You giggle as you cant your hips forward, earning a groan from Ichigo. His eyes are locking with yours, and he groans again when you try to grind against him.

“Shit…” he chuckles. “I can’t believe this.”

You kiss him sloppily. “Can’t believe what?”

He smirks before pushing you back on the bed. His lips are on your neck; he sucks hard, leaving a deep red mark on your skin. Your eyes are half-open as you look at him.

“I can’t believe you’re on my bed with me. “I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time…”

You’re at a loss for words. Just how long did he have these feelings for you? Before you can think of a response, Ichigo’s lips are on yours once more. The kisses are heated; it’s a clash of teeth and your tongues wrestling.

His hands soothe up and down your sides. You shudder at the way he keeps caressing you like you’re a beloved treasure that he never wants to get his hands off of. When his hands come up to cradle your face, you feel your heart racing. Ichigo lets out a moan when you reach down to squeeze his dick through his jeans.

“Eager huh?” He teases you.

You show him just how eager you are by stripping off his clothes. He lets you press kisses and leave hickies on his neck as you take care of taking off his clothes. Ichigo looks at you, and the love is very apparent in his eyes. He flips you over so that you’re on top of him.

“I like this side of you,” he comments with a smirk on his face.

It’s not long before he has you completely naked. There’s a lustful glaze in his eyes as he prods your tight little hole. You whimper his name as he fingers you, curling his digits just right to get that sweet spot. You kiss him hotly as you dribble on his long fingers. Your hips begin to move in time with his pumping.

“Ready for me?” he pulls his fingers from you and replaces it with the tip of his cock.

You bite your lip, nodding eagerly. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Slowly he pushes into you, leaving you both panting and whining. As he bottoms out, he wraps his arms around you to pull you close to him. His lips are hungry as he kisses you passionately. You let out such a cute moan when he starts thrusting up into you.

“I could never love someone the way I love you…”

dividers by: @adornedwithlight

Send me a prompt and character and I'll write you a short Drabble!

[igotanidea]

five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!

request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere

A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......

***

When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.

It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.

Well, if only the people could see him now.

Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.

He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.

As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.

“Dick……” she mutters

“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow

“Come on, I have get  up!”

“no you don’t.”

“I gotta get to work!”

“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke

“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”

“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”

She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!

“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.

You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.

“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.

Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.

“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.

“Not fair Grayson!”

“You called me fat.”

“I called you heavy!’

“Same thing!”

“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him

“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.

“I know. I’m irresistible.”

“A pain in the ass is what you are!”

“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts

“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”

“did you?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”

“I used all my sick days because of you.”

“How about casual leave?”

“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”

“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.

“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”

“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”

“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”

“And?” he asks

“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze

“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.

“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”

Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.

“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.

“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”

“You act like a five year old!”

“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”

“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.

“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”

“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”

“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle

“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’

“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs

“Is there a cure?” she laughs back

“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”

“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”

“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me……”

“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“five more minutes?”

“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.

“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.

“Never.”

And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  

[mustainegf]

Hi Elena poo my beloved 👅👅👅I have a yummy request for youuuu

Current! James (who has like I DONT WANT TO SAY TROUBLE BUT…. A difficult time getting it up all the way) is in a relationship with younger!reader (not that big of an age gap.) and the first time they do it together James realizes that he’s like OVERLY hard like really hard and since he hasn’t been like really hard since he was in his 40s-early 50s and so he gets really overstimulated when he’s like doing the deed with the reader and he gets embarrassed but like it’s okay❤️

Thank.

HI VONNIIEEEE!!!!!

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 ²⁰²⁴

I ran my hand up the very distinct bulge in James black jeans, feeling it throb from below the denim.

"Someone's real excited..." I tease giving his clothes member a playful squeeze.

"Shockingly."" he winced softly, groaning at the hardness.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I smirk at him, feigning offence.

"No,no... not like that... I mean uh— let's just say my age has restricted, um... my performance.." he stammers, going a deep red.

His age isn't something he hides, nor am I naive enough to think he wouldn't talk about it. Just hearing the thought of an older man still having sexual desires makes me wetter than ever.

"Clearly not this time around... you've got me so fuckin' hard baby..."

I run my hand over the crotch, cupping his length under his belt. My hand slides down his fly, slipping underneath.

My fingers slide through his pubes, and I start to pull on them, moving lower until I reach the top of his cock. I move it left then right, slowly sliding it back and forth along his shaft.

I can feel every inch covered with tight denim, how large it must be beneath there. My pinky moves onto the tip of his head, circling it. He lets out another moan as my finger traces around his sensitive spot.

I then grab the base of his cock, gently pulling it free from his jeans. He gasps, his eyes widening when my hand wraps around his exposed member.

It feels even larger now than before. "Holy shit.." I mutter to myself as I begin to slowly stroke him. I feel my pussy get even wetter at the sight of his throbbing cock.

His moans become louder as I pump faster and harder. He grunts as I squeeze his balls, massaging them tightly while I jerk him off. "Ohh... that's so fucking good baby," he coos breathlessly.

"Shit... I haven't been this hard in years...' he groaned out, tipping his head back.

"Yeah? You that desperate for me?" I coo, tracing the vein on his underside before pillow back, teasing and tugging down my lace panties.

I place my palm between his thighs and push him backwards, guiding him to sit on his bed. I straddle him, resting my hips on his legs.

His thickening dick pokes into my clit as I grind against it, rubbing my swollen lips across its girth.

"Fuck… That's what I need.." I murmur lustfully, bending forward to press my lips against his.

James twitches at the sensation on his tip. "Ah-fuck! Oh God..." he whined, clearly overstimulated, he hasn't been this hard in a while.

James grips the sheets with one hand while grabbing my waist with the other. He pulls me close, kissing me as we both moan loudly into each other's mouths.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling my hips back as I guide his cock head towards my entrance. Slowly I insert myself onto him, taking in his thickness bit by bit.

"Oh god yes," James sighs with pleasure, digging his fingernails into my ass. I cry out in ecstasy as I take all of him inside of me, feeling my insides stretch around his impressive girth.

"Ah! Ahh... f-fuck... it's so.. sensitive," James whines, his member must be throbbing with being this hard.

With a loud yelp I pull away from him, arching my back slightly as I rub his wet cockhead. It still pokes up proudly, throbbing as I slide it side to side.

I'm playing with the head, making sure to hit every ridge and edge. Each time he moans or cries out my heart skips a beat, getting me even more turned on than I already was. I smile down at him.

"Mmm you're right... you're really hard." I ogle at how stiff he is, a sight I'm seeing for the first time.

James whimpers as I slowly sink back down onto him. This time I go slow, taking long and steady strokes.

As I rock back and forth, James moans softly, crying out as I squeeze my inner walls around him. "Ohhhh baby! "He felt way bigger inside of me this time around. I've never felt him this hard before, and it was stretching me in ways I could hardly fathom.

I moan at the sweet feeling, smiling as I bounce up and down on his shaft, knowing how big it is despite not being able to see. James pants heavily, trying desperately not to cum too soon.

I could tell he wasn't used to feeling like this either; his muscles were tensed and he was a whimpering mess.

The sound of my wetness smacking against his groin was driving us crazy. With a heavy breath, I slam myself down onto his length, burying him deep.

James gasps out sharply, throwing his head back. His whole body jerks as his balls tighten and he shoots rope after rope of thick, white cum deep into my womb.

He yelps as he feels me cumming around him, the heat of my juices seeping outwards. We hold each other as we come down from our orgasmic high.

Our breathing is heavy and shallow, chests rising and falling rapidly. "I.. fuck... haven't been that hard since... fuck I don't know when..." he heaved.

I stare at his face, blushing profusely at how red it had gotten during his climax. James chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at himself.

James gently reaches for the base of his cock, carefully slipping it out as I immediately began oozing with cum. "That's it... look at that..." James groaned.

James grabbed his still throbbing cock and gave it a few more pumps, milking the rest of his cum from it. "Well look at that," he said, staring at the amount of cum he had produced.

A stream ran down his shaft and landed on his stomach, followed by another two drops which fell on his thigh. James moved closer to me, pressing his lips against mine.

I smile, gazing down at the huge load of sperm he had shot inside of me. He brought his fingers up to my mouth, placing them there for me to taste. My eyes widened as I tasted his potent seed.

It was warm and salty, lingering on my tongue for a moment before disappearing down my throat.

James smiled widely as he watched me swallow every drop.

“Fuck… the things you do to me…”

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"groupie love"

pairing: rockstar!Anakin x reader word count: 2.1k CW: swearing, drug usage, mentions of sex a/n: I've been dressing (and wanting to be) like a rockstar's girlfriend lately, and this popped into my mind. Lemme know if it deserves a part 2... Enjoy!

“Friend of the band?” 

You huff slightly upon hearing the stranger's voice, glancing out of the corner of your eye at the man walking outside with an unlit cigarette in his hand. He strolls over towards you, leaning his back against the brick wall of the venue, mimicking your posture. This was going to be good. With no shame, his eyes trail your body up and down, a smirk forming on his lips as he takes you in. 

“You could say that,” You chuckle to yourself, avoiding his lingering gaze as you pull out another cigarette and light it. As often as this occurred, you paid no mind to it.  

You take a long drag from the cigarette, choosing to smoke outside rather than in the venue. You kept your filthy bad habit a secret from your friends, not wanting them to know you failed at quitting once again. They know you’ve tried, and they know you started again, but nevertheless, it became an unspoken thing. It felt good between your fingers, leaning your head back against the bricks and taking another long drag, ignoring the presence of the man next to you as he lights his own and keeps his gaze fixed upon you. 

Out of curiosity, you finally peeked your head over slightly to get a good look at him. He was clearly arrogant- that was apparent. You could tell by the way he attempted to smooth talk you, not knowing your affiliation. He had dark hair and brown eyes that evidently reflected the desire within. He fiddled with something in his hands, slightly adjusting the cufflinks on his suit. He bit his lip once more, taking a nice long look at your breasts. Fucking perv.

“Give me a call sometimes,” He hands a card over to you as you raise a brow and smirk at the audacity, “I’m sure you’d make a wonderful actress,” He winks before walking back into the venue, actually leaving you alone to smoke. First time for everything.

You chuckle to yourself lightly, taking another drag from your cigarette and smacking the card lightly against the palm of your hand. You flick the cigarette, sticking the card in your back pocket as you take another drag. The cigarette suddenly brings you clarity, furrowing your brows as you reach into the back pocket of your jeans and pull the card back out. Jared Schultz, Adult Films. You scoff and roll your eyes, the annoyance building up in your throat. 

“Fuck porn agents,” You crumble the card up in your hands, shoving it in the front pockets of your jeans to make for an interesting story later. Annoyance wasn’t a strong enough word for the way that made you feel. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, glancing at the time and huffing, taking one last drag of your cigarette only to throw it to the ground and stomp. You brushed the hair out of your face, strolling back and aggressively swinging the stage-left door open.

Instantly, your mood improved as you studied the dim lighting and smoke you were greeted with. You glanced at angry tour managers and several groupies. It always puts a smile on your face. You walked next to the stage, watching as the sound guys fixed the last mics and talked to the opener, eager to get them on stage as quickly as possible. They were already 15 minutes behind, and Padmé, the beloved manager, was about to blow.

You giggled to yourself, watching as she yelled at the production crew for fucking up, walking around all bossy in her sexy little pantsuit, apologizing to the opening band as their anxiety grew. She glanced at you, giving you a tight-lipped smile, gripping her clipboard ever so aggressively as she returned her attention back to the band. 

You grinned at her, knowing she needed it. Her job was the hardest; managing the 501st was no painless task. You couldn’t fathom it. Lost in thought, you suddenly realized you were in the way as the crew got more frantic. You quickly walk away, adverting your gaze as you nod to a few others and turn the corner down the hallway to the dressing room. You passed a few crew members, loading in different pieces of equipment to go on the stage next to make this changeover as quick and painless as possible. There was no chance that was happening on this tour. 

You pass a few open doors before poking your head into the 501st’s dressing room. 

“Y/N!” They all shouted, raising their hands filled with various playing cards and drinks, clearly eager to see you return from your quick smoke break outside. God, they were plastered. 

“There she is,” Anakin grins at you, holding a joint in one hand and a bottle on Hennessy in the other as he motions for you to come over.

You walk carefully through the room, not wanting to step on anyone or see their cards as you make your way to the couch. You grin mischievously at Anakin before plopping on the floor in between his legs as he takes another swig. 

“How’s my girl?” He asks, setting down the bottle and running his fingers through your hair. You lean into his touch, humming in response. 

“Good! Got another one of these,” You sit up slightly from him, feeling his disappointment from the absence of your touch. Reaching your hand into your pocket, Anakin’s brow raises in confusion as you struggle to pull the card out. Your index finger finally grabs onto it, and you pull it out, tossing it behind your head for him to catch. He carefully removes his hand from your scalp, catching the card and chuckling slightly. 

“Give me that,” You take the joint out of Rex’s hand, taking a long puff, “Gonna need it,”

“Motherfucker!” Anakin jokingly shouts, throwing the card down. You snort at his reaction, the rest of the band laughing along.

“What is it?” Cal looks up briefly from the line of coke he was snorting, suddenly very intrigued.

“Oh, look who came up for air!” Ahsoka teases, sitting back and giggling at him. You raise a brow at this. 

“Yeah, better watch out, Kestis, gonna have a hole in your nose pretty soon,” You laugh at him, taking another drag from the joint in your hand.

“He already does,” Cody adds; you laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay,” He sets the coke-lined credit card down, looking back at Anakin behind you, “But what was it?”

“Another fucking porn agent,” He takes a swig of his drink, feeling it burn down his throat, “They want her bad. No surprise there, really,”

“Seriously,” Ahsoka adds, looking down at the cards in her hand. She focuses on Rex, trying to read his expression as they begin to wrap up their pre-show poker game.

“What can I say,” You lean back into Anakin, feeling his hardened cock behind your head, “I know I’m hot- they know I’m hot. We’d both benefit and make a fuck ton of money. Can’t say I blame them for trying.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” You turn to look at Obi-Wan, not making eye contact as he intently focuses on the cards in his hands.

“Fuck off,” Anakin groans, eager to change the subject, as he throws his head back against the couch pretty aggressively.

“Hey,” You tap his leg, turning around to face the man behind you. He grins upon seeing your face. “How much have you had? I don’t want you to get too fucked up.” 

“Don’t worry, princess,” He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your head, “Haven’t had a lot. I’m watching, don’t worry,” You smile at him, turning your attention back to the poker game in front of you.

“Full house,” Rex puts his cards down, a smirk on his face.

“Fuck!!!!!” Ahsoka throws her cards down as Rex scoots the pile of cash towards him. 

“Nice try, kid. Better luck next time,” he winks at her as she rolls her eyes and lights a cigarette. 

“Hey, band,” Padme knocks on the door, gaining everyone’s attention, “You’re up. Good luck out there, and make us proud!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Ahsoka shoots up, saluting Padmé as she rolls her eyes and leaves the room, clipboard and all. 

“Alright, guys, let’s give 'em hell,” Anakin says, sitting up and following you as you stand. 

“Ah, ah,” you say, pouring several shots of Clase Azul for everyone to take. “You forgot about our lucky shot!” They all roll their eyes at you, laughing at the tradition.

“Who’s bright fucking idea was it to make this lucky shot tequila,” Obi-wan grumbles before holding his nose as he pours the shot down his throat. You close your eyes and laugh at him.

“Mine, actually,” Anakin laughs, putting a protective hand over your shoulder as he gives you a light kiss on the cheek, the smell of tequila lingering on his breath.

The rest of the band runs out onto the stage, Anakin following closely behind as the crowd erupts in cheers. You smile deeply, watching him go. Anakin quickly runs down the stage stairs back toward you, grinning as he watches you furrow your brows in confusion. Before you had time to say anything, he engulfs you in a warm, deep kiss. He slowly pulls away, putting his forehead against yours and panting slightly, excited from the tension between you and the roars of the crowd.

“I love you, baby,” You cup his cheek and smile, seeing the familiar grin spread across his lips, “Go make me proud,”

“Anything from you, Princess,” He kisses your head once more before grabbing his guitar and running up on stage. 

You watch him go, hearing the sound of the fans increase with Anakin’s presence. Padme shows up at your side, guiding you over to the backstage watching area. 

“Who’s ready for the best fucking night of their lives!” Anakin screams into the mic, the crowd eating up every charming word that leaves his mouth.

They start loud and heavy, the crowd singing and dancing to every lyric, melody, and rhythm. You point over to the mosh pit starting near the stage- remembering your own mosh days. 

You observe as Anakin sings passionately into the mic, playing his guitar even better. Rex kills it on drums, Cody kills it on percussion even better. Cal is so coked out on the keys that it’s hilarious- but it would never dull his playing. Ahsoka always fucking shreds it on bass, standing next to Obi-Wan, her rhythm guitar player. 

You scream and dance and practically lose your voice singing to the songs, the opener and Padmé joining alongside you. You played with the necklace he gave you, never taking your eyes off of him.

It got to that time of night, and his shirt came off, followed by the fans losing their shit. He turns around and shoots you a wink as you bite your lip and blow him a kiss in response.

“Alderaan, how bad do you want it?” He moans slightly into the mic, relishing in their screams as you feel the heat rise to your cheeks ever so slightly. 

“ALDERAAAAAN!” He screamed into the mic, leaning back as he said it, “I said, how fucking bad do you want it!” 

The crowd is so loud you swore it was a world record. 

“That’s what I thought,” Anakin adjusts his guitar strap before breaking into one of the band's heavier, sexier songs. His voice is smooth, raspy, and sensual. He makes sure to turn around every now and then just so you know who he is singing about. 

Anakin runs off stage, wrapping his sweaty arms around you in a much-needed embrace. He picks you up off the ground and into a passionate kiss, ignoring the fans' cries for an encore. You giggle against his touch; the passion of the kiss ignores the wetness of his touch. He pulls back, grinning as he holds you as closely as he can manage.

“You’re amazing, Ani,” you sigh, cupping his face into your hands as he presses a gentle kiss against your palm. “Better go give them what they want,” you motion your head towards the crowd. Anakin’s grin grows wider as he kisses you once more, forcing his tongue to meet with yours, savoring the taste of you. 

“Only because you asked,” He winks before letting go and running back on stage. “I love you.” He yells back, turning around to face the crowd, letting them bask in his presence one more time before he returns to his rightful place in your arms. 

[drabblesandimagines]

Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

--

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?”   “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

--

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

---

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi/Commissions

[syd-djarin]

private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)

this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.

banner by: @cafekitsune

tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private

a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think 👀

wc: ~1.6k

smut below the cut

 “I want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.”

The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasn’t allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.

This isn’t the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services — no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. She’s no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancée, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didn’t give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that “she deserved a better life than that”. 

Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you don’t get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

The conventionally attractive woman you couldn’t pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You can’t deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

“He’s quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,” her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes she’s mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you don’t know the whole story. 

“Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy… he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, he’d tell me he’s going on work trips… he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?” She explains, putting air quotes around ‘trips’ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, “he’d stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing… Anyways, you come highly recommended, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down,” she adds. You’re not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time. 

Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude,  adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him. 

Or you. 

Whatever. 

He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasn’t had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isn’t adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isn’t, but you’re not finding any evidence to support that claim. You’ve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. He’s undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and there’s something mysterious that lies beneath that you’re itching to unearth.

You’re parked discreetly across the street from his house. It’s a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night. 

You’re about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like he’s reaching for the remote, like maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice he’s butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you don’t get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that. 

But not now.

You’re getting your own private peep show from the man you’re getting paid to spy on. You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar you’d like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. It’s a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what you’ve done now that you can’t see him at the moment. 

You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth. 

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

“I–”

“‘S’alright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ain’t hard to miss.”

“I– i’m sorry, um,” you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again. 

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

[writingfromasgard]

Schwechater

gif source

Synopsis: Colonel König and you haven't spent time drinking in his office in a while. After a successful hostage recovery, he wants to celebrate.

ML - Request - CW: drinking, dubcon

König swipes a hand toward your wrist, stumbling as he overreaches. You let out a drunken laugh, rounding the opposite of his desk to stay out of his range. The two of you had dug into his stash he kept in his office to unwind after a stressful week. You couldn't deny that you'd drank more than you intended, trying to keep up with your beloved Colonel.

Your foot catches the edge of the rug. Your arms are too slow to react and the air in your lungs gets knocked from them painfully. You wheeze for a moment, regaining the lost air. Your mind temporarily forgets what you were moving away from until a large hand grips your calf, flipping you on your back with ease.

König cages you on the floor, hands landing beside your head after his knees spread your legs for him. "We've got unfinished business."

Your chest is heaving as you try to regain your breath. Your gaze focuses on his piercing blue eyes, a goofy smile spreading across your lips. "We finished the bottle, Colonel. I can't drink anymore."

"I am not speaking of drinking more, Sonnenschein." He dips his head down, his makeshift balaclava brushing over your neck.

You shuddered, feeling his lips on your neck. Your head lulls to the side, giving him more room to work with. His teeth scrap over your skin while his cologne envelops you. Your head spins a little, hand moving under his balaclava to guide him by his neck. You let out a soft groan when he sucks on that sensitive spot on your neck, eyes fluttering.

"No more running." He rumbles in your ear, shifting his weight onto his left forearm. His right hand jerks your shirt out of your pants, palm sliding over your ribs.

"Let me have you." His touch sends goosebumps over your skin, charging the air with anticipation.

Your fingers slipped down to undo your buttons, allowing him to drag his mouth to your chest. His nips and licks grew more aggressive, littering your skin with throbbing marks. You reach for his jeans, hand running over the strained fabric. He groans, biting down hard to muffle the sound.

You quickly unbutton his pants, ungracefully shoving a hand inside to stroke him. He feels hot and heavy in your hand, his hips jutting into your grip. He pulls back, sitting on his heels, pulling his cock out of your reach.

His hands grip one leg, effortlessly tossing you onto your belly again. You feel like a doll as he poses you; it takes him only seconds to have you with your knees under you, ass in the air for him. König isn't gentle as he works down your pants, a slight stinging sensation as the fabric drags across your skin.

He shifts and you feel his calves on the outside of yours, forcing your legs together. He taps his heavy cock against your pussy, swiping it up and down to wedge it between your lips. You feel like melting when the head works itself inside of you, that first push of resistance gone.

"Your pussy has forgotten the shape of my cock? It must have for it to be this tight." König grunts, working his cock inside.

You push back against him, eager to take his thick cock deep. His approval is a growl that sends goosebumps down your spine. He shifts the angle of his hips and you scream his name. His cock is rubbing against your g-spot with each drag against your tight walls.

Your thighs are trembling, cunt clenching around him. You're babbling against the scratching carpet, urging him to go harder, rougher with you. König complies, his balls slapping against your thighs with eager thrusts. Muscles tighten around his invading cock as drool pools in your mouth.

Sweat beads on your forehead, breathing coming in jutting pants with each thrust. Your head feels light and dizzy until you feel like your head is about to crack open from pleasure. Your toes curl tightly in your boots, pleasure bursting in every nerve.

Your nails claw at the carpet as you clench around him. A primal scream leaves your throat raw. König's final thrusts are so hard they force your cheek against the carpet over and over until he's spilling himself deep inside you. Every stroke pushes his cum deeper while he grunts, each one causing you to squeeze around him again.

König slides his hand along your sides, leaning over you. He nuzzles the back of your neck, kissing your shoulder. "Sonnenschein, sag mir, dass ich alle die Dokumente richtig ausfüllen und eintragen muss.[*]"

[*] = a little german humor, "Tell me I have to fill out and enter all the documents correctly."

[bedrotboy]

i finished watching dirk gentlys holistic detective agency and. i want to be dirk gently. i also want him and elijah wood to make out

i wish i was dirk gently but also i havent finished the show yet so idk if things turn out well for him. but i hope they do. he's got a cool gender

[courtingchaos]

Ok, i thought i'd give you a few options.

Having to fuck your way out of a speeding ticket or a possession charge or something with gator

or

flashing Steve on a dare at a party because boobies

or

Eddie being a clueless, naive knob when his crush comes on to him in increasingly obvious and suggestive ways and he just can't put two and two together until she's forced to grab him and be like, hi. hello. I'm trying to fuck you here. please compute.

Sorry if these seem stale. I'm not the most creative and they're all smut because I'm a degenerate too. Love your writing :)

Eddie being a clueless, naive knob when his crush comes on to him in increasingly obvious and suggestive ways and he just can't put two and two together until she's forced to grab him and be like, hi. hello. I'm trying to fuck you here. please compute.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A record store meet-cute with Indiana’s most oblivious guitarist.

Warnings: Blow job and fingering, that’s it that’s all have fun.

A/N: Okay look, for one? Not stale at all. Also, degeneracy supremacy for all. This did the trick and in fact I also wrote the Gator prompt too because that was fun. However Steven eludes me lately so while I wanted to make all the dreams come true, alas I could not. These might not be exactly what you were aiming for? But there’s smut? And they’re fun? Meh, thank you for sending these in friend! Also I think I inadvertently channeled my dearest @chestylarouxx with this one so you know it’s gotta be good.

Gator will get posted separately.

18 + NSFW No Minors

He’s in the store all the time, always on your shift and usually finding you with whatever question he has like when he can’t find a new release or someone has misfiled a vinyl. He asks your opinion on the new releases and laughs when you roll your eyes, a scoff thrown at a new Madonna single. He’ll give you a shocked look when you tell him that you do in fact like Heart and also when you try to explain the shared root between his beloved thrash and the current punk scene.

Despite his affection for arguments with you he persists with toothy grins and a constant promise to ‘show you some real music’ sometime. There’s an undercurrent with your conversations, a feeling of flirting, like when he pulls that chunk of hair across his face while he tells you about his band. He gets bashful when you show interest and ask if it’d be cool if you went and all you can imagine is that dark hallway in the back of the bar and what he might look like under that dimming, yellowing light. It earns you a short nod and one of those smiles, lips tight over his teeth while his dimples dig craters into his pink cheeks. He says he’d love it. Says he can’t wait to see you. Says he’ll let the guys know they’ve got a number one fan now.

So when you get to the end of said night, after the fairly big crowd and all his other friends have filtered out, after his band has almost put up most of the equipment, after he’s collected their cut of the entry fees, you linger. Sitting at the end of the bar with your beer that you’ve been nervously picking the label off of for 20 minutes, waiting on him to make his way over. He taps the bar top and thanks the owner and starts his meandering walk toward you, counting back ones from the roll in a practiced hand. He looks like all the little daydreams you’ve had while watching him wander around the record store, dark hair damp from sweat and curling around his ears. His thin tee clings to him like his jeans cling to him and your heart hammers at the thought of pulling him back those few feet into that blessed, dingy hallway.

“You guys put on a hell of a show.”

“Oh you think so?” He looks up from his money and grins at you, the only girl in the room it would seem. You nod and laugh and start to pluck up your courage when one of the waitresses walks out of the back and squeals before grabbing his bicep and squeezing.

“Oh my god Eddie! You did so good tonight!” You can see her nails pressing into his skin and how his cheeks flame at her praise and suddenly you think you maybe misread this whole thing. “I told you there were gonna be more people this weekend!” She pulls him down and into her space, her nose scrunched up with a big smile for him.

“Thanks Vic.”

“I told you Robin would work miracles with those posters.” She gives him a final squeeze and gets back behind the bar to tie her apron on. He watches her walk down the bar until she takes an order and his gaze slides back to you, a little sheepish.

“Sorry about that.” He shoves the wad of cash in his front pocket and leans on the bar next to you. “You enjoyed it though?” He gives you a wide eyed look, anticipation rounding out his bambi eyes.

“Yeah.” It comes out more clipped than you meant so you clear your throat and direct your gaze back at your peeled Budweiser label. “Yeah, exactly like you said it would be.” A wide smile that you don’t let hit your eyes. Eddie shifts a little, his demeanor softer than it was before, his post show swagger gone when he tilts his head down to try and catch your eyes glued to your bottle.

“You sure? You just seem-“

“I-I’m sorry, it’s actually just-before I came out tonight I found out I need to open so.” You rush it out at him, glancing at your watch and never once noticing the actual time. “I didn’t want to just leave, but I gotta get going I’m sorry.” You shrug at him, half apologetic while you dig a five out of your wallet and toss it on the bar. “Hopefully I’ll see you on Tuesday though? Souls of Black is coming out!” You toss that over your shoulder to give your abrupt departure a bit of a softer hit. Eddie yells something after you that you pointedly ignore and you try your hardest to not kick the door open into the muggy night.

Tuesday morning and you pull a cassette from the display to hold on to. Not like it’s flying out the door but you know Eddie will beeline for you first thing, no matter what far corner of the store you’re occupying. You keep it tucked into one of the pockets on your half apron so you don’t forget it and so you can pull a magic trick when he inevitably comes up and asks you even though he walked by the display.

Noon rolls by and you see nary a curl come through the front door. By 2 you’re hanging out at the register, a permanent fixture there while your coworker takes advantage of your fixation and putzes around in the back. At 4 you contemplate calling the police because this is the most strange behavior you’ve witnessed from Hawkins’s residential Weirdo and at 6, when you flip the sign over to tell everyone you’re closed, you start to think you might have fucked up. Carla, your coworker, reminds you of the cassette in your packet when you toss your apron at the register. A little crease between her eyebrows when she asks, “That for Eddie?”

“Yeah, I was gonna be funny and tell him I could pull stuff out of my ass.” You tell her with a dry laugh and stash the tape under the counter.

“He never misses a Tuesday.”

“Yeah, well, first time for everything.” You shrug.

5 PM Wednesday night brings a rainstorm to downtown and a drowning rat in the form of a drenched Eddie into your store. He shakes off like a Labrador in the doorway and grumbles when he has to peel his jacket off his clammy arms.

“Hey stranger.” You say behind a pop of your gum. Barely looking up from the rolling stone you’re reading when he stomps over to the new releases.

“You’re shitting me.”

“What?”

“There’s no god damn way a Testament album sold out in Hawkins.” He throws his arms up dramatically and lets them slap down onto his damp jeans. Again you barely look when you pick up the stashed tape and hold it aloft, waiting for him to finally turn around and see. “What, did Gareth come in here first and snag the only copy or something?” He snaps cases together angrily while he shifts through them and you almost tell him to quit pitching a fit but it’s a little fun watching him dripping all over the linoleum. His hair clings to his neck, his white ringer tee see through over his shoulder where the rain got in under his collar. You spare a moment to think about what the rain must taste like on him.

“Eddie.”

“Seriously! First my piece of shit van didn’t start yesterday again so I was late to the shop which in turn meant I didn’t get over here.”

“Ed.”

“And then this fucking storm shows up out of fucking nowhere and I’m fucking soaked and I don’t have my fucking tape-oh.” He turns, fist clenched in front of him like he’s tearing at invisible threads, and stops mid rant when he sees the rectangle in your hand. “Oh hello gorgeous.” He looks like he’s in love and he holds out his hands towards you, grasping your fist in both of his to gently shake it. You laugh at his dramatics and let out a yell when he hops onto the counter, ass planted directly on your magazine you were staring through.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world you know that?”

“I have that effect on a lot of guys.” A buff of your nails against your collar and Eddie huffs. He pulls his shoulders in and gives you a side eye that feels a little personal for a second.

“Well alright, statement still stands.” He reads the track list on the back, a slight squint of his eyes and you wonder briefly if he needs glasses. “You listen to it yet?”

“Psh, no.”

“Why not?”

Well, you’d had a plan since the terrible show night and you stomping out of there with your feelings hurt over nothing.

“No one else I know listens to them, thought you’d maybe like to listen to it together?” This is the most courage you’ve ever had, you think as you look up at him through your lashes. “It’s not like a big deal or anything but-“

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“What?”

“I mean yeah, obviously I’d love to listen together but I need to make a call first.” He flashes you that big smile again and you hand the store receiver over. That nervous knot that had begun to form in your stomach is all but gone with his revelation:

Obviously he’d love that.

Obviously! It’s been so obvious right? He’s your number one customer, he’d walked right for you in the bar, and now he’s vehemently agreeing to listening to this album with you, giddy with excitement.

“Hey! Jeff! Put your dick away we’re coming over.”

Jeff? Jeff his guitarist?

“No, I’m at the record shop I got it! Yeah, yeah she’s a real sweetheart she held a copy for me.” Eddie rolls his head to face you and gives you a wink. “I know, she’s the best right?”

Fucking Jeff? You stare at Eddie, dumbfounded, yet again questioning how you keep reading this man wrong. What part of ‘do you want to listen together’ qualified a third party?

“Yeah, we’ll be over after close.” Eddie hands you the phone to hang up and you go through the motions, turning your body away to stare at a spot on the counter so you can frown deeply without him noticing.

“This is gonna be great.” He claps his hands together before hopping down off the counter and pulling his wallet out to pay. “I can finally smoke you out like I’ve been promising.” He wiggles his eyebrows like he’s some kind of cartoon wolf and you feel like you’ve missed a step on the stairs. What is he doing? Is this flirting? Does he use Jeff as a pawn in his games or is he just not picking up what your putting down?

“Yeah, it’ll be great, can’t wait.”

The hang out at Jeff’s wasn’t awkward but you think something is broken in your brain with how off the mark you seem to be.

You’d been aloof with Eddie when he’d first started hanging around you in the shop, not sure how to take his overly forward approach but he’d grown on you quick and the banter was good. He lobbed the conversation back and forth with you with practiced ease and really it was destined for you to find him charming. With his dimples and his music taste and his tattoos it was inevitable that you’d spend your afternoons shooting glances out the window, waiting for him to breeze in with a joke or another long winded story that he’d loose the thread for halfway through. He’d apologize and you’d laugh and sometimes he’d blush at you and that feeling that you thought was there?

Maybe it wasn’t.

You weren’t being particularly subtle with him. Friendly flirting it may be but your touches always lingered longer on his forearm, your lashes always fluttered at his nicknames and your giggles were sprinkled freely for him through his visits. Standard faire ‘come get me, I’m yours’.

Once again at work, mindlessly alphabetizing and sending yourself into a doom spiral you hear the bell above the door ring and a quick glance up makes you pause.

It’s the whole band this time, Eddie in the lead and heading straight for you.

“What now?”

He stops in his tracks, hand flying to his chest in mock affront. “To your favorite customer?!”

Jeff snorts and Gareth and Frank roll their eyes and immediately wander off to the record bins.

“You come in here with a purpose, I need to brace myself.”

“It’s not even for me!” Eddie whines and leans on your cart full of tapes. His rings clack against the plastic casings and catch the overhead lighting, distracting you for a second. “It’s for Gareth, we need to know what you have for a Jazz section.”

“Jazz?” These men confuse you with every new turn. Gareth has already found what he was looking for though, sitting on the floor and flipping through aging cardboard sleeves.

“What does he know about Jazz?” You ask Eddie when he wanders back over with you.

“Oh he was the drummer for the jazz band in high school, you don’t remember that?”

“No, I wasn’t in band.”

“Ah.” He’s leaning on the fixture you need to reorganize but you don’t want to ask him to move, the sunlight shining in at just the right angle to light up his features. You could kick yourself with how enamored you sound, especially when he seems to be woefully uninterested in you and your flirting.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Hm?” He turns to look at you over his shoulder, brown hair gleaming like satin in the sun. His eyebrows hitch up and he tucks his lip between his teeth to worry at it. A thousand little fantasies about that lip glide through your thoughts and you decide to give it one last go.

“Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?”

His lashes flutter at you while he processes your question, his guard down with no witty response lined up.

“Oh like…like w-when?” He’s not meeting your eyes anymore, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He shifts back to lean his weight on his other leg and leans away. He clams up and distances himself. “Because we’re free tonight after you close, but I know it’s a week night and you might be busy or whatever.” He cocks his head over to the other three grouped around the record crates and you realize it finally.

He’s letting you down soft. He doesn’t hate you, at least there’s that. He’d like to hang out sure, but there isn’t a romantic undercurrent like you’ve been imagining.

“Uh, yeah, tonight works.” You shrug and turn off your emotions. There was a brief prickle of heat behind your eyeballs but you stomp your foot down on that, converse pinning that feeling down like a moth in a frame. “Whenever though, I don’t want to interrupt your plans.” That roiling in your gut squirms under the pinprick and finally stills and you make sure your smile reaches your eyes this time. Eddie agrees and tells the guys and when they’re all standing at the register to check out you keep your cool. The countdown begins when you start typing in the prices, just ten more minutes before they’re on their way out and you can stand in the back and cry. You think about Carla giving you that sad little look and you know it’ll be a waterfall for sure.

“What fresh hell-“ Eddie yells and pushes the door open, red and blue lights flashing for a second before the cruiser engine shuts off. “Hey! I’m not parked illegally!” He shouts out at the deputy holding the windshield wiper of his van up, ticket clutched in his fist. When all Eddie gets is a blank stare he rushes out, leaving his friends staring after him.

“This’ll go over well.” Jeff sighs and hands you cash. “You’ll get to hear about this tonight for 8 hours.”

“About that. I might need to reschedule actually.” You can feel the cracks in the dam and you really don’t want to cry in front of these people.

“Oh?” Gareth gives you a side eye, something slick and calculating. Your eyes dart out the window to see Eddie gesturing at the signs on the street and you sigh heavy, handing their bag over to them.

“Yeah, I just forgot what uh, umm…” Trying to find a good excuse is impossible and he sees it on your face for what it is, an excuse.

“Oh my god Frank you owe me twenty bucks.” Gareth holds out his hand without looking at his friend. “I told you she didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“What.” That stops whatever waterworks were about to spring a leak. Gareth is smiling the biggest shit eating grin and suddenly Jeff and Frank are laughing while money is exchanging hands. “What are you talking about.”

“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Eddie is the biggest fucking idiot.” Gareth laughs and pockets his money. “Like, I love that man but he has no idea what is going on.”

They aren’t laughing at you but you still feel rooted to the spot, and since none of them have started sharing this secret yet you start to get antsy. Jeff takes pity on you finally and tells you all about Eddie and his current fixation. He tells you about all the stories they’ve heard about you. How cool you are. How hot you are. How you’ll talk music with him like no one else and how you give only the best recommendations.

“You know he listens to New Order now because of you?” Jeff asks with a smile. “Like, great band but Eddie listening to them? He’s got it bad.”

You reel behind the counter while the three of them nod their heads sagely at you.

“He thought you had a boyfriend.”

“What?”

“When you left the other night after the show? He thought you picked up on him trying to flirt and got upset. I told him it was because it looked like Vicky was flirting but he was convinced he fucked up.”

“I thought-“ You don’t know what you thought because it hadn’t been anything actually. You had been jealous and it seemed like it was over nothing.

“Listen, you should still come out tonight. We can talk some sense into him if you want.”

“No.”

“No?” Jeff looks impressed.

“No, I can talk to him.” You run through your daydreams and your interactions. All his dumb jokes and how he looked after his show. You think about your hallway vision and what it might feel like to press him up against that wall and press a confession out of him. “I’ll talk to him.”

You don’t dress up for The Hideout. It’s dive bar chic only but tonight?

Tonight after you run back to your place to change, you dig out your black and white polka dot dress, the one you’d bought because Cyndi Lauper had made it look so good. It’s always sat a little short in the back, the buttons never coming up far enough in the bust for your confidence level but now it’s perfect. It flutters around your thighs and while you try not to poke yourself in the eye with your liner you think about Eddie’s fingers fluttering along with it. Maybe he’d be precious about it, a stuttering mess when you finally explain it to him in clear tones just what you were trying to do.

The whole drive over you imagine what his hair must feel like sliding between your fingers, what the stubble on his jaw would feel like grazing your knuckles, and you almost run two red lights. You’ve been stockpiling courage since the bands little conversation with you but when you finally pull into the parking lot and spot his van, you have a moment of doubt.

Right until he comes into view, leaning into his driver side with his ass sticking out, and it rushes back in tenfold. He doesn’t notice you park but you notice him futzing with his lighter, sad sparks sputtering around the end of his cigarette. Your kitten heels clack on the pavement and he only looks up when you’re almost on him, your own lighter held out in your palm. “Need a light?”

Eddie freezes, hands cupped around his face. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to let his gaze roam downward and you’re really hoping he gives into it. “I didn’t know we had a dress code tonight.” He mumbles around the filter and finally has enough of a thought to drop his hands and take your lighter. It strikes on the first try but you see the slight quiver of his hands when his eyes finally drop to the deep plunge of your dress.

“Oh this old thing? I hardly wear it.” You give him a half turn, just enough to make the hem ripple and he coughs on his inhale.

“It looks good. Y-you look good.” He’s a stuttering mess. “Um, if you want the guys are already inside I was just…” Eddie trails off when you take enough steps to crowd his space and he backs into his open door. The hinges squeak under the pressure and he scrambles to grab onto the frame with his free hand.

“Eddie?” You ask sweetly and he visibly swallows. “I don’t really want to drink with the guys.” You reach over and gently pull his cigarette from his fingers, mostly out of fear he might drop it in his van.

“Oh?” He’s taking short breaths the closer you get and when you lay your hands lightly on his chest you can feel his heart going a mile a minute.

“Mhm.”

The door creaks under his white knuckles and he seems to be holding on for dear life.

“I asked you out for a drink, but this is good too.” Inched close enough that your whisper ghosts over his lips before you close that short distance. That first breath in he smells like his half a cigarette and his aftershave. When his brain finally catches up to what you’re doing he gasps against your kiss, a move that you use to your advantage. Your hands find homes behind his neck to hold him close while your tongue pushes its way past his lips and he moans into your mouth. Here he taste like the beer he’s been drinking and tobacco and you start to get lost him.

He breaks the kiss before you can deepen it, breaths huffed across your face when he drops his forehead to yours.

“Ohhh, I’m a big idiot.” He laughs out in a whisper. “A big, big fuckin’ idiot.”

“No, just a little slow on the uptake.” You can’t resists the urge to slide your fingertips into his hair and the eye roll it gets you is divine.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t picking up on this, I thought I screwed up a few weeks ago-“

“Ed.” You slide your thumb over to rest on his lips. “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“I know but-“

“I’m serious.”

“I still feel stupid-“

“Get in the van.” You cut him off when you’ve heard enough. His eyes go wide before he gives one jerky nod of his head and quiet ‘yes’ and climbs in, disappearing between the seats to the back. You give one look around the parking lot before climbing in and closing the door behind you, any modesty long gone when you have to crawl into the back and you know your dress is bunched up around your hips. In the dark it takes you a moment before you can adjust but there’s a hand wrapped around the back of your knee pulling gently to bring you down to his level. You’ve barely got his outline made out before he’s pulling you in roughly by the leg, his other hand planting hard on the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

He’s less unsure in the back of his van, moving you around to situate you where he wants you and he lets you push him back against the hard floor once you’re settled in his lap. Your hands push up his shirt while his palms run up your bare thighs, bunching up the thin cotton of your dress till he hits the high cut of your underwear. His laugh turns into a groan when you move quickly down his neck leaving wet, open mouth kisses in your wake. You push his shirt up high and let your teeth drag against his nipple, the hitching in his chest making you smile against sensitive skin. His fingers slide under the edges of your underwear to grab at the fat of your ass and you slide your own fingers under his belt to pull it open.

“Oh hey, you don’t-“

“I don’t what?” The buckle clinks against his wallet chain and it all hits the floor with a heavy thud. “I don’t have to do this?” You tug at his button while holding his gaze and pull his zipper down quick. “Do you want me to do this?” A pause after you pull his jeans open so he can answer you.

His chest heaves but he smiles wide, tongue poking out to run along his bottom lip. “Yes.” He nods at your smile and keeps nodding when you pull his jeans down his hips and when your hand edges under the waistband of his boxers and when you crawl backwards out of his grasp. “Please.” He begs on a breath he started to hold when your dress slid up your hips as you bent down to place a kiss next to his bellybutton. “Please please please.” He chants when your hand wraps firmly around him, your smile pressing into the soft part of his belly.

“Please? Please what, Eddie?” You ask between the dotting of kisses you leave along his hips and the excruciating slow drag of your hand. He squirms under you, his stare heavy on the top of your head where he watches you move further down. “Please more of this?” You roll your wrist to finally free him and the flushed pink tip of his cock glistens in the low light before it disappears in your fist. He lets out a stuttering groan and falls flat on his back to run his hands over his face harshly.

“Or please this?” The flat of your tongue runs up from the base and follows your hand, ending with a cheeky kiss at the tip. You think Eddie might be crying under his big palms with how much he’s shaking.

“Is it that?” Another long lick that pulls a deep breath out of him. You spare a glance up his body to catch him staring at you in the dark from between his fingers.

“Yes fuck-oh shit.” You spare him his grief and swallow him down, your lips meeting your fist and your tongue exploring the soft skin against it. Every ridge and vein gets attention and Eddie rolls his hips up to chase the pointed tip of your tongue. His hands finally come down from his face, no longer obscuring his view, but they hover over your head haltingly.

“You can touch me Ed.” You tell him after popping off his cock wetly. When he stalls for a moment too long your pull a hand to fall on the crown of your head and his fingers slide in automatically, hair held gently between his knuckles. His hand tenses the same as his thighs when you wrap your lips around him again, humming at the taste as he hits the back of your throat. He makes breathy noises above you that choke off when your tongue swirls to match the twist of your hand. You bury your face down until your nose hits his bush and when you swallow around him he lets a string of slurred curses go into the roof, both hands sliding into your hair to grip tight.

You come up for air and to see his face go slack, eyes hazy where he follows the string of spit still connected to your lip and the tip of his cock.

“I didn’t know this is what going for a drink meant.” He tries to crack a joke but between his unfocused eyes and the hitch in his voice you laugh for a different reason.

“I did mean a drink actually, but this is a lot more fun.” Your hand speeds up, slick sounds loud in the back of his van and his eyes roll. You like watching him loose his mind, his hair pulled at and cheeks pink from the flush that creeps up from his chest. The urge to sink your teeth in along his ribs itches at the back of your mind until you can’t ignore it anymore and you attack him, hand trapped between the two of you still working him while you nip at his side. His laugh tumbles into an almost squeal and then a low moan when the head of his cock rubs against your thigh and he ruts up into your hand to chase the heat of your skin. You notice his sudden urgency and make your way back between his knees.

“Now I know it doesn’t look like it,” you lick your palm and continue jerking him off, “but I don’t put out on the first date.”

“This is a date?” He asks dazedly.

“It can be.” You smile at him before dropping your mouth on him again, bobbing up and down quicker this time.

“Oh fuck-“ His hands grip at your hair again, trying to pull back gently at first before he’s a little more insistent. “H-hey.” He tries again and you just stare up at him and hum, tongue running over that sensitive spot under the head of his dick. He must see the grin on your face because he finally drops his head back with a thud and he’s inadvertently bucking his hips up and gasping your name.

“Fuck fuck please don’t stop.” He bargains with you and the whine at the end of his words makes your stomach flip. You can feel the dampness between your thighs, your own arousal ignored in favor of making Eddie go stupid. With him toeing the edge of oblivion and whimpering about it though you almost wish you had just fucked him, if only to chase your own end.

You get a couple of courtesy taps and a whiney ‘no wait-‘ before he finally stills, a gasp caught in his chest that finally shudders out when he comes. His big hands cradle the back of your head when you swallow around him pulsing until he’s hissing and then he’s busy pulling you up to meet him halfway for a bruising kiss.

In the afterglow you realize you’ve had your whole ass out and anyone walking by his van could have seen you through the windshield. You only get a moment of embarrassment though before he’s moving into you and pushing you into the back of his driver seat.

“Hey we can-“ He pushes his face up under your jaw and cuts you off with open mouth kisses from your ear to your shoulder sitting bare under a hanging neckline. “We can go in for that drink now if you want.” You giggle at his eagerness and his hair tickling down your dress. He hasn’t even put himself together yet and he’s already got his hands on a mission, fists pulling and bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“I don’t want to go in for a drink.” He parrots your line back to you and carefully plucks at the big button keeping the top of your dress together. “I would like to express my sincere gratitude,” He works the button open one handed and catches your eye before dipping his fingers under the thin fabric and into the cup of your bra, “and deepest apologies,” the rough pad of his fingertip grazes a sensitive nipple and you bite your lip while your lashes flutter at him, “for being the worlds most ignorant individual.” He finishes on a whisper before he kisses you, plush lips soft and seeking like his hand now slowly working its way up your inner thigh. The tip of his pinky grazes along the edge of your underwear when his tongue slides along the seam of your lips and you grant him access to everything, knees falling apart and mouth molding to his.

This may not be your little dingy hallway inside but it’s better than any work daydream you’ve had about him. He slides your underwear down and pulls at your knee, spreading you open for him to run a finger in the crease of your hip. That earns him stifled whine from you and he tuts quietly. “Don’t be quiet.” His free hand pulls the shoulder of your dress down so he can plant a kiss there. “I gotta earn my forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, it worked out.” You press your forehead into his and grin at him, stars in both your eyes you’re sure of it.

“Yeah but we could have been doing this so much sooner.” Just the slide of his finger through your folds makes you shiver, the wet sound of you loud in the quiet. “And look at me being ignorant again.” Two fingers this time, sliding up to find that small bundle of nerves that makes your head drop back. Eddie busies himself at your neck again, chest pressed into you and pinning you in place, fingers running tight circles over your clit. “Ignoring you in need.” His tongue worries at a spot behind your ear, an attempt to get you to relax into him and he dips his fingers down to gather your slick. “Let me help you out and maybe I’ll let you buy me a beer.”

You laugh and he sinks those two fingers in to hear you gasp and he wastes no time in his search for the right angle. He starts a quick pace that makes your breath catch in your chest and those musician fingers hone in on the spot that makes your legs jump.

“Oh is that it?” He bites softly at your neck stretched out under his mouth and laughs against your heated skin when you let out a strangled ‘uh huh’.

“Right there?” He flutters his fingers over and over, your thighs twitching with every brush. The heat pools fast in your abdomen especially with him mouthing at any skin he can find. You feel like you’re melting against him, the heat trapped between you and his fingers moving ceaselessly and when he angles his hand to press his thumb onto your clit you roll into him, thighs holding his arm in place.

“That’s it.” He murmurs and it’s your turn to bury your face, mouth hung open on a silent gasp against his chest.

“Eddie, please!”

“Please what?” He uses your words against you in play. “Please this?” A deeper brush of his fingertips and he grinds his hand against you. Your groan shakes deep out of your chest and before that band snaps to send you over the edge your hand winds up in his hair to hold on. It’s a quick push when your orgasm hits and Eddie doesn’t stop, not with you pulling his hair and gasping against his chest, not until you have to pull away, lightheaded and chest heaving.

“So I think that’s a good first apology, right?” He says into your hair, hand still trapped between your thighs.

“First?”

“Yeah I mean I have at least four more to make.” He removes his hand gently and finds your ruined underwear to wipe his fingers off, all while giving you a sly side eye.

“Are they all gonna be like that?” You feel boneless in the stifling heat of his van. He shifts and pulls you with him, slotting you between his legs so you can stay laying against his chest.

“I mean, they don’t have to be.” He sighs.

“No, no I like these kind of apologies.” You giggle against him and he pulls the hem of your dress down back over your hips. “Just maybe not always in the back of a van?”

“Oh no, I’ve got all kinds of places in mind. I Can say sorry in that little hallways inside,” your eyes go wide in the dark where he can’t see, “I’m sure you have a back room at work I can sneak into.”

“Oh my boss will love that.”

“Shit, I can find a corner in the garage no one uses, really the possibilities are endless.”

You know someone has to have noticed Eddie being gone for so long and you expect a tap on a window any minute but for now you stay tucked up against him. You’ll buy him his drink when his friends discover his fogged over van.

[overtake]

9 or 77 for the prompts?

9: a broken cocktail glass

I really have no words to explain what it is that I did here. Just .... prepare for an onslaught of terrible photoshop.

JUNE 1, 2023

Transcript of the important pieces of That Video™️:

[Cutting out all the basic introduction of how an escape room works, but please note that Max is staring the escape room guy down as if he'll disappear if he looks away for a single second.]

DANIEL: You’re allowed as many hints as you’d like, but when you take a photo at the end, we will publicly shame you by writing how many you used on the whiteboard. MAX: Do you come in if we need hints? DANIEL: Normally we tell you over a loudspeaker, but ours is actually broken, so yeah. Just press that button and I’ll come in. MAX: I think we’ll need a lot of hints. LIAM: I think we’re a decently smart group. We can do it without hints.

[Max turned around and kind of glared at Liam??]

MAX: No, I think we’ll need a lot of hints.

[He stared at Daniel VERY intensely. Better men have crumbled beneath that stare. Daniel just laughed and bent over a little and clapped his hands together all giddy? Max met his match fr.]

____

[Literally TWO MINUTES into the escape room, Checo found a key that obviously unlocked a chest. Max took the key from him, claimed the key didn’t fit - the camera zoom shows he didn’t even try btw - and put the key in his pocket.]

MAX: I think we need to call Daniel in for help.

[He hit the button before anyone could disagree.]

DANIEL: What’s the problem? MAX: We can’t open the chest.

[Daniel looked REALLY amused. He pointed at Max’s skinny jeans.]

DANIEL: Did you try the key? MAX: What key?

[He covered the pocket of his pants, but not before the camera clearly showed the outline of a key in those skin-tight jeans he always wears. His beloved skinny jeans …. they betrayed him …]

DANIEL: The key in your pocket. MAX: It didn’t work. DANIEL: It usually works better when you actually put the key in the hole. MAX: Put it in the hole. I’ll try that, thank you.

[Daniel rolled his eyes when he left the room, but NOT in a ‘harangued underpaid employee being sexually harassed at work’ way. He was very clearly trying not to smile.]

____

[It’s five minutes into this escape room. May I remind you that they have a full hour to complete this thing? Max looked at a broken cocktail glass, which is clearly intentionally broken. It’s only in two pieces. It’s glued down. The edges are completely dull. He still hit the button].

YUKI: Oh my god, Max. MAX: That could be dangerous!

[Daniel entered the room and walked straight over to Max.]

DANIEL: Yes, Max? MAX: There’s broken glass. DANIEL: It’s decor and entirely made of plastic. MAX: I had to be sure. Safety first.

[Daniel started to walk back out of the room.]

DANIEL: I’m counting this in your hint count, by the way. YUKI: Fuck you, Max.

[The swear words are obviously all censored, but we can all tell what the word is when they’re swearing at Max, which happens quite a lot in this video. Max just shrugged at him. Unbothered king.]

____

[I cannot make this up - he calls Daniel in one minute later.]

CHECO: There’s numbers circled on this poster. LIAM: There’s five numbers and this lock over here needs five. We just have to figure out the order. YUKI: Max, don’t hit the fucking button.

[Max has already hit the fucking button.]

MAX: What order do these go in?

[Daniel rubbed a hand over his beard while he searched for a way to explain to Max that he can’t just give him the answers.]

DANIEL: Do those numbers maybe relate to something else in the room? For example, those books over there? MAX: I don’t know. We could go look together. LIAM: Sorry, do you two just want the room to yourselves? MAX: Yes.

[Daniel just laughed again. He is absolutely immune to Max’s intense flirtatious weirdness. It’s incredible to watch.]

DANIEL: How about you all take a look and see how you go?

[If you’re wondering, the others do figure it out after eight minutes. You put the books in alphabetical order, and the colour of their cover relates to the colour of the number. This was something actually worthy of a hint, but Yuki physically guarded the button so Max couldn’t hit it].

____

[Twenty minutes in. Max is trying and failing to figure out a riddle.]

MAX: I think this must only make sense if you speak English. This game isn’t designed for us. LIAM: Do you want me to look?

[Liam didn’t even finish his sentence before Max hit the button, by the way.]

DANIEL: Having some riddle trouble? MAX: Your game is biased.

[Max started wagging his finger, and Yuki looked like he was contemplating snapping it off. Checo was staring blankly at the corner and seemed to be wishing he were anywhere else.]

DANIEL: Mate, I’m pretty sure you speak better English than me. YUKI: We don’t want the hint. MAX: We want the hint. DANIEL: How about I whisper a hint to Max, and he only gives it to you guys if the rest of you can’t figure it out?

[Max looks absolutely delighted with this turn of events. Daniel cups his hands around his mouth and whispers it into Max’s ear.]

MAX: Sorry, say that again?

[He got away with that two more times, by the way. I actually can’t believe Red Bull left this footage in. Max looked smug as hell.]

____

[After four minutes of the group trying and failing to figure out the riddle, they finally give up and ask Max for the hint. I don’t know why they wasted their time. Max hit that fucking button.]

MAX: I forgot the hint. Sorry. DANIEL: I mean, you only heard it three times. How could you remember?

____

[When Max hits the button again, 27 minutes in, there are audible sighs from even the cameramen in the room.]

DANIEL: Max, would you just like to sit in the observation room with me give out hints? YUKI: Please! LIAM: Yes, he would.

[There are no words in any language to succinctly or accurately describe the pleased expression on Max’s face. The best comparison I have is a cat rolling in a field of catnip.]

NOTE: There’s no footage of what went down in the room. Red Bull included a little pop-up explaining that the cameraman couldn’t fit in the room with them. I think that room could have been the size of the entire paddock and Max would’ve found an excuse to have just himself and Daniel in there.

[The others ask for a hint at the 48 minute mark. Suddenly, magically, the loudspeaker works. No one has to enter. It’s just Max’s bossy voice telling them what to do, in detail, to solve the room, and Daniel giggling and protesting in the background, saying he can’t tell them that. It sounds like there’s a scuffle for the mic after Max drops approximately six instructions, and then it cuts off.]

____

[During the photo of everyone holding the sign at the end, Daniel tries to write a 9 in the “clues used” section. Max keeps erasing it and writing 0 with his own marker, produced from seemingly nowhere. Eventually, everyone takes a photo without the sign and they let Max and Daniel continue their little play fight in the corner.]

____

[Post-escape interviews. They all seem to be in a van on the way back from this adventure. Max is giddy and giggling.]

MAX: That was a lot of fun. I think it went well. I was very good at giving clues. I think I found my job for after retirement. YUKI: It was good when Max left. LIAM: To be fair, mate, we would have lost if Max didn’t give us all the answers at the end. YUKI: I was figuring it out!

[The camera captures Checo for only a second. He’s staring longingly out the window... probably contemplating jumping out of the moving vehicle.]

TLDR: Max is definitely fucking this escape room guy and if Red Bull never does a repeat of this video, I’m joining Max’s agenda against marketing activities.

AUG 5, 2024