#Sofa Surfers

[x-heesy]

THΔ (ΠU) SΩUΠD ΩҒ ∇IΣΠΠΔ

@bigbonzo @boanerges20 🇦🇹

Elusive Scripts feat. Daelek and Dev1 by Sofa Surfers 🎧

#deepdarkanddangerous #im freaking the fuck out #gif mood board #mood in between #9/2023 #Elusive Scripts #Daelek #Dev1 #vienna #Sofa Surfers #shakewhatyamamagaveya #dancing in the dark #trip hop #hip hop #Rap #x-heesy #fucking favorite #music #now playing #spotify #music and art #Intomysoul #Inyaface

[mudwerks]

(via Sofa Surfers - Sofa Rockers (Richard Dorfmeister Remix) 1997)

#youtube #Sofa Surfers #Sofa Rockers #Richard Dorfmeister Remix #music #vintage #1997

[paskvilnet]

rec.desky

Koop - Waltz for Koop

Producentská dvojice Magnus Zingmark a Oscar Simonsson z Uppsaly, kteří se na obal svého druhého alba Waltz For Koop nechali s vážnou tváří vyfotit v ženských šatech, reprezentuje současný švédský jazz. S decentním využitím klasických elektronických nástrojů si svou pozitivně a jazzově laděnou směsí zasloužili uznání po celém světě. Svůj dlouhohrající debut Sons Of Koop vydali v roce 1998 a v rámci kampaně byli prezentováni světu jako přátelé zpěvačky Stiny Nordenstam. S křehkou zpěvačkou měla dvojice Koop před třemi lety cosi společného, tehdy byla jejich hudba „tichá“, postavená na elektronických zvukových plochách, rytmicky blízko ke drum‘n‘bassu, občas ozvláštněna křehkými vokály a netradičními samply (např. Claude Debussy). Jemnost a průzračnost jsou základními vlastnostmi i jejich druhého, velice chytlavého alba Waltz For Koop, změnou je však obrat vstříc jazzu, a to přímo prvotřídnímu! (Ačkoli obličeje těch dvou mladíků na obalu jakoby vylučovaly jakoukoli skladatelskou, natož jazzovou zručnost.) Ve většině z pouhých devíti (celková stopáž alba má bohužel necelých 35 minut) skladeb zaujmou nádherné vokály zajímavých hostů: ve svých 15 letech téměř dokonalá Yukimi Nagano, beatník Earl Zinger, okouzlující Cecilia Stalin a jazzová legenda Terry Callier, který si v posledních letech užívá svůj comeback a pečlivě vybírá své spolupracovníky.

Sofa Surfers - Encounters

Bylo by samo sebou zavádějící představovat si, že v Rakousku vzniká jenom útulná lounge music z okolí kultovního dua Peter Kruder a Richard Dorfmeister. Příkladem může být skupina Sofa Surfers, která před krátkým časem vydala své třetí, převážně hip-hopové a zatraceně temné album s názvem Encounters. Historie této vídeňské party se začala psát v roce 1996, o rok později vydali Sofa Surfers své debutové album Transit a do povědomí hudebních fanoušků mimo rodné Rakousko se dostali prostřednictvím remixu Sofa Rockers od Richarda Dorfmeistera. V roce 1999 přišli Sofa Surfers s druhou deskou Cargo, kterou jasně projevili svou úctu k hudebnímu stylu jménem dub a k jejímu nahrávání si přizvali i několik jamajských vokalistů (Singing Bird a Victor Oshioke). Prvky dubu se dají pochopitelně najít i na jejich aktuálním albu, převažuje však hip-hopový rytmus doplněný hutnou basou, místy deprimujícími zvuky a naštvaným rapem. Singl Can I Get A Witness, který právě posloucháte, se liší od zbytku jinak dost syrového alba. Svou náladou má album Encountres daleko k relaxační idylce nebo hip-hopové srandičce, působí naopak dost naštvaně. Zcela jistě proto, že tak Wolfgang Schlögl, Markus Kienzl, Wolfgang Frisch a Michael Holzgruber projevují svou nespokojenost s nástupem xenofóbních populistů ve svém rodném Rakousku. Koneckonců to se není co divit...

The Notwist - Neon Golden

Členové formace The Notwist z Mnichova, kteří se dále věnují několika vedlejším, přesto velmi produktivním, projektům a skládání filmové hudby k celovečerním i krátkometrážním snímkům, patří mezi stálice německé alternativní scény. Od roku 1990, kdy The Notwist vydali pod vlivem postpunkové vlny své debutové album, ušli pořádný kus cesty a soudě podle kvality jejich pátého řadového alba Neon Golden jim dokonale padne fůze moderní experimentální elektroniky a folkového písničkářství, která se v současné době stále více prosazuje. Promyšlené kompozice spojené s vynikající instrumentací zde představují The Notwist jako detailisty: každý zvuk vycházející z kláves nebo sampleru Martina Gretschmanna je přesně odměřen, aby „umělých“ prvků nebylo příliš a aby vzájemně komunikovaly s jemnou kytarou nebo banjem a ještě jemnějším vokálem Markuse Achera, nápaditými bicími Meckiho Messerschmida a instrumentálními aranžemi Michaela Achera (smyčce, dechy, basa). The Notwist nám na své nové desce předkládají skladby, které jsou čisté, samozřejmé, jednoduché (ve smyslu bez zbytečných a zavádějících okras), silně pocitové a nádherně smutné.

Jazzanova - In Between

Názvem své debutové desky nám Jazzanova pravděpodobně naznačují, kde spatřují své místo: na půl cesty mezi jazzem a programovanou taneční hudbou. Což je zcela jistě místo, kam tato berlínská šestice svou směsí jazzových kompozic a jemných breakbeatů patří. Její debutové album překvapivě následovalo až po vydání kolekce remixů vytvořených pro skupiny 4 Hero, Incognito, United Future Organization nebo Iana Pooleyho a další. Respekt mezi příznivci soudobého jazzu si skupina Jazzanova zajistila nejen díky své bohaté remixérské činnosti, ale i vlastní tvorbou. První ze singlů Jazzanovy s názvem Fedime‘s Flight vyšel už před pěti lety a brzy se objevil na několika úspěšných kompilacích, speciálně pro japonský trh byla dokonce sestavena ojedinělá kolekce všech jejich dosud vydaných singlů. Na aktuálním albu In Between se objevuje řada hostujících vokalistů, jejichž výčet je exkluzivní a dává tušit, že Jazzanova nemusí nikoho dvakrát přemlouvat… Na singlu Soon s nimi spolupracoval zpěvák, DJ a velký obdivovatel evropské nu-jazzové scény Vikter Duplaix z Filadelfie. O vokály v dalších skladbách se postarali rapper skupiny MC 900 ft. Jesus Hawkey Fanatic, Ursula Rucker, spolupracovníka legendárního Charlese Minguse Doug Hammond a dvojice Valerie Etienne & Rob Gallagher z kapely Galliano.

#Paskvil #2002 #0212 #rec.desky #Koop #Sofa Surfers #The Notwist #Jazzanova #Katka Kozáková

[jere-me--oh-my]

Sofa Surfer - Candace/Jeremy

Common room sofas were surprisingly comfortable, he’d learned, in his limited experience of sleeping on them. They were just big enough to be designed to take loads of students and that meant plenty of sprawling space once everyone had gone to sleep! Ideal! And since he currently couldn’t get back into his dorm and couldn’t be bothered to walk home at this time of night to his parents’, then, well, sofa sleepover it was! He yawned, stretching out his arms, before he rolled over and fell asleep. 

Light was flooding through the windows when he woke up, stretched lazily and rolling onto his back. He opened his eyes and froze mid-yawn, realising what it was that had woken him. Standing over him, hands on hips, strawberry blonde hair blazing, was his R.A. Gulp. 

“Oh, uh... morning Candace,” Jeremy sat up hurriedly. “How’s it going, you having a nice morning?”

@i-want-candy

#listen ok I wanna call them Canderemy but also worry that will bring all the canderemy stans to the yard #sofa surfer

[catiuskaa]

missed me, missed me, now you gotta...

SUMMARY: minho wasn’t grumpy, nor he was jealous. but he hasn’t been the same ever since he fell in love with you.

REQUESTED! by a sweet annonie right here. pookie, your idea was lovely to write! lil grumpy minho, im melting… it’s a bit short, but I hope you like it! <3

CW: use of (crack) text messages to convey the plot, starring: han quokka as cupid + reader’s bsf, clingy minho as king of my heart, and ngl, type 1 diabetes fluff ahead. keep insulin shots close just in case! lol

WC: 1.1k

A/N: i love how i’m slowly turning into a minho blog/page lmaoo, only minho: the man, the myth, the legend!

[🪻☆🌫️☆🪻]

The same ringtone buzzed again during rehearsals. Its ding had sounded so many times already that it had started to get repetitive really quickly.

Minho frowned as he looked in the mirror, retouching his rolled sleeves just once more for what he secretly knew it had been more than twenty times. In the span of ten minutes. Maybe even less.

But Minho wasn’t ‘grumpy’.

He so wasn’t.

His day had been normal so far. He had no reason to be grumpy. Not one what-so-ever.

He had woken up in between your arms, and even if he had ‘complained’ about it, he loved being the little spoon. And also, his cats jumped on the bed and, just for once, none of them landed on his face.

There had been just one thing.

…

Well. Technically more than one.

You had rushed outside this morning. You claimed you didn’t have time to have breakfast with him, because you were late for something he didn’t really get. Because of that, you hadn’t come over to the JYP building with him. He had to drive over alone. And you hadn’t pecked him goodbye at the entrance like always.

But he. Wasn’t. Grumpy.

Not. At. All.

> sunggie: girl, did you hide his cats or smth?

< minho’s owner: lol, wdym dude?

> sunggie: he looks like he’s going to kill me.

> sunggie: And he loves me! Wtf??

“Jisung-ah.”

Han shrieked in his place in the sofa, his phone almost falling off his hands. He quickly turned it off, hoping that the grumpy dancer hadn’t seen the old or new messages.

“Who were you texting?” Minho frowned, deeper this time.

“Oh.” Jisung chuckled. “Just checking in on noona.”

“My girlfriend?” The way Minho enunciated the title felt a bit possesive. Jisung eyed at him weirdly for a second. Even he felt weird himself.

Jisung nodded sheepishly, turning his phone back on but quickly opening a random app.

“Yeah. I owed her a call back.” He shrugged, nonchalantly accepting that he had opened Subway Surfers, and started to play.

As the catchy music came from Han’s phone, Minho shook his head.

Not grumpy.

Not at all.

But the thought that you had been texting Han and didn’t text him —instead of him— did funny things in his chest.

Now, keep in mind that Minho would never describe himself as a jealous man.

He trusted you with his cats, of course he trusted you regarding your relationship. But he had barely got a hold of you all day. And Han had. By call and text. Like he was doing now.

Not grumpy.

Sure.

< minho’s owner: you dead yet?

Jisung groaned.

> sunggie: no! you made me lose my score!

> sunggie: and I don’t have any keys! ㅠㅠ

< minho’s owner: sucks to suck, lol

< minho’s owner: but what’s wrong with my future husband? did you do something?

> sunggie: he’s moody since he came in this morning.

> sunggie: you weren’t here tho. smth wrong between ya?

< minho’s owner: no…? just had to run to work early…

And then, something in Jisung’s paboracha brain connected. Probably because of how he had named your contact in his phone.

> sunggie: omg

< minho’s owner: what?

> sunggie: that corny dumbass

> sunggie: he’s so stupid

< minho’s owner: bitch what is it???

> sunggie: he’s moody bc u didn’t come in with him today!

You hesitated. Could that be it?

< minho’s owner: really? u think so?

> sunggie: bitch I know so!

> sunggie: imma go get boba for the boys, get your ass here and come w/ me

Jisung’s brain started to work at cupid’s speed.

< minho’s owner: omw. be there in 5’

“Guys, I’m gonna go get boba. Do any of you want something?”

The rest of the gang blabbered something while some kept going over the steps of the choreography and the others rested on the couch, doozing off or on their phones. Han quickly noted down everyone’s orders, not before being squinted down by Minho. He held back a shiver.

“Clingy prick…” Jisung mumbled, leaving quickly.

He walked out of the JYP building, waiving and half bowing to the staff members and other artists in the building.

< minho’s owner: just parked! ^^

Jisung entered the boba place next to the building, smiling at the cashier as he read down the orders on his note app, and stood aside, waiting for the drinks.

“Hey!” You smiled widely at him, taking off your scarf, merely leaving it hanging on your shoulders. He clapped your hand, playfully slapping your back.

“Working hard?” Jisung snickered, pointing at the bag on your other hand.

You side-eyed at him, giggling softly.

“Took some snacks before heading off.” You shrugged. “We can sneak these in, right?”

Jisung scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll… come up with something.”

You both struggled carrying the drinks, teasing each other and betting who’d make a mess first. But all giggles came to an end when the security guard stared at you.

“Name and business?” He asked in a low huff.

Your body stiffened.

“She’s my sister,” Han chimed back. You were in fact far from being his sister, but that didn’t matter when the guard seemed to nod. “She��s just helping me carry the drinks inside.”

“And the bag? What’s inside?”

You cleared your throat, smiling. “Clothes for him to change once he finishes training.” You lied.

Thank God for his imagination. And for his stupid idea of shoving your scarf and his hoodie into the bag of snacks.

“Ok. You may come in.” The guard smiled politely.

Only after the both of you had gotten into the elevator you allowed yourselves to let out a sight full of relief. You two then smirked, high-fiving.

“Thank you, bro.” You teased in a snicker.

He cackled. “You’re welcome, sis.”

You both laughed and joked until you reached the training room.

“The person you dream of is back!” Han cackled.

“Noona!” Felix grinned happily.

“Yeah, that’s me!” You cackled at Jisung’s faked frown.

You smiled and greeted everyone as you entered, leaving a certain bunny boy for last.

You sat next to him on the couch, and without missing a beat, he took your legs and layed them on his lap.

You took a sip of his drink, and he stared at you, almost with a squint.

“You’ve made me jealous of fucking Han Jisung.” He stated matter-o-factly, making you practically choke on the tapioka pearls.

You coughed. “What?”

“You texted him all evening. And me? Not even a good luck kiss this morning.”

“Aw, are you grumpy, kitten?” You grinned teasingly, speaking only towards him in a soft tone to his ear. You pecked his cheek.

He needed more of those.

Grumpy, huh?

“Yes. Very.” He mumbled, hiding his blushed and pleased grin in the crook of your neck. “Need more kisses.”

“Well, you know how it goes.” You mumbled in a snicker. He hummed at you, waiting for you to explain.

You kissed his forehead softly, his hands stroking your thighs.

“Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.”

~Kats, who can write this in one sit, but can’t figure out how chemistry works (yes have exams, why did I choose this for myself, help)

#thanks for the request! #for my pookie<3 #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #minho <3 #stray kids imagines #lee minho fluff #soft hours #lee minho x reader #minho x you #minho headcanons #minho fluff #minho x reader #lee minho #stray kids minho #lee know fluff #stray kids imagine #lee know #lee know headcanons #lee know x you #lee know fanfic #lee know imagines #stray kids lee minho #lee minho headcanons #lee know x reader #lee know stray kids #skz lee minho

[softtcurse]

Saturday Night Live

your boyfriends antics and your blood pressure raising

You walked down the hallway, backstage at the SNL studio where Jack was hosting and performing at later that night. He had gone off to get ready for his first skit and meanwhile you had left the dressing room to get yourself a drink. A hot tea and your phone distracting you.

You were even more proud that two years later nothing had changed between you two and he was still just as in love with you.

You were even more proud that two years later nothing had changed between you two and he was still just as in love with you.

Not even noticing the tall frame walking towards you, you felt the presence bump your shoulder softly. “Oop! I’m sorry!” You saw the figure out of the corner of your eye and didn’t get to get a good look at him before your arm was being tugged.

“Excuse me I don’t know who-“ You finally made eye contact with the stranger and your mouth dropped with pure shock.

“What the hell did they do to you?” You gasped. Your boyfriend, with a fucking wig on his head.

“What do y’mean?” Jack grinned at you speaking in a very VERY thick accent which made it a little bit hard to understand what the hell he was saying.

“You’re hair!” You started to laugh. Your hand coming to cover your mouth.

“Don’t know what your talkin bout sugar”

You cringed and hit his shoulder softly. “Please don’t ever call me that in that accent again”

///

“SIGMAAAAA” You heard someone yell from the hallway. Your face contoured into pure confusion but you sat back in the sofa in Jack’s dressing room. Maggie sitting beside you with an equally confused face.

“Who is that?”

You shrugged but hearing Urban’s laugh get closer made you even more confused, enough to where you were a little alarmed to hear the voice yell right in front of the door.

Your handsome boyfriend came in, dressed as a fucking tampon. Replacing his iconic ‘L’ hand signal with a surfer dude voice and had motion.

“Oh my god” you muttered. Your hands placed on your hips when you got up. Jack nodding his head. The string on the tampon costume swinging around the side of his head. You were trying your hardest not to laugh at Maggie’s expression, you knew she definitely wasn’t expecting it.

“Does anyone know where I can get some coke?” Jack asked.

“Jackman!” You hear Maggie yell with a stern laugh. Meanwhile Urban is behind him recording and snickering.

“What are you suppose to be anyways? An obnoxious coke fueled tampon?” You ask. His hands wrapping around your waist and shaking his head. His lips pecked yours and if you weren’t so needy to kiss him you would’ve smacked him upside the head when the ‘tampon’ string almost poked your eye out.

“Your coke fueled tampon” He grinned.

///

As the night progressed and you got to see Jack act and quite frankly you were getting really hungry from all the laughing you had been doing. You left the dressing room to get you and Maggie something to eat from the small cafeteria down the call.

You reached your destination rather quickly and started to pick from some finger sandwiches as well as some chips that you didn’t have back in the dressing room.

“Ma’am can I interest you in some COCK-tails this evening?” You heard a voice speak behind you. “Or perhaps a vigi-do?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Uhh what?” You turn around. A displeased look on your face when you see Jack with a MAN bun leaned over laughing.

Your crossed your arms and glared at him. Which he immediately came over to you to press kisses all over your face. “Baby you should’ve seen your face. You looked scared”

“I’m glad you think scaring me is funny” You pouted and placed your head on his chest. His waiter costume was doing something to you. So was the man bun a LITTLE bit (to be honest). But you would never admit that. You loved his curls. “What are you suppose to be now?”

“Earl the Twirl” He hummed. Picking up a piece of fruit from the fruit cup your were about to take back to the dressing room with you.

“I’m not even going to ask, I’ll just wait and see what you’re gonna be doing” You muffled your laugh against his chest.

“I feel like I’m cheating on you right now”

“With a guy named earl?”

“A cute bartender named earl”

#jack harlow fic #jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow fanfic

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“Pizza’s on the way,” Eddie announces. He flops down on the sofa, crashing right into Billy’s side and smiling when the little outburst goes unnoticed. “I got mushrooms and cherry tomatoes like you like.”

Without looking up from his book, Billy hums. Turns the page gently while Eddie noses a kiss against his cheek.

“Did you get plain cheese for Stevie?” Billy asks.

“Yup, with stuffed crusts.”

Billy nods once. Zones back into his book, if the way that his breathing softens is any indication. Eddie scoots closer. Glances at the page and implements the five finger rule that Billy showed him — and determines before he’s even halfway down that this book is way over his head.

“Dude, what kind of Old Testament shit is this?”

It takes Billy a moment to finish the sentence that he’s reading before his eyes stop skimming back and forth.

“The Vampyre by John Polidori,” Billy says. “It’s the original vampire novel.”

“I thought Dracula was the original vampire.”

Billy taps the page lightly with his thumb.

“This was like seventy years before Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published. Stoker’s novel is actually considered an adaptation of this one.”

Eddie nods. Leans his head against Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him.

“Then why not just read Dracula?”

“Because I’m reading it next.”

“God, you’re such a goth, y’know that?”

A small smile blooms on Billy’s face as he shakes his head.

“I don’t listen to the music.”

“C’mon, I’ve heard you bopping to Siouxsie and the Banshees before.”

“One of Max’s mixes,” Billy excuses.

“The Cure?”

“Jonathan left his tape in my car and I haven’t given it back yet.”

There’s a slight pause. Eddie sits up enough to look at his partner, quirking a brow.

“Since when do you hang around Byers?”

Billy purses his lips.

“I don’t. He works part-time at the library.”

“He’s showing you music in your car.” Eddie spreads a grin and Billy’s face begins to burn a flustered shade of red. “You have a little crush on him, don’t you?” When Billy doesn’t say anything, Eddie snickers. “You definitely have a type, that’s all I’m saying.”

“No I don’t.”

“No you don’t have a crush on him or no you don’t have a type?”

Billy huffs and waves Eddie off with his hand.

“Either.”

“Lanky brunets,” Eddie lilts. “Typically of the brooding persuasion.”

“You do not brood, Munson, you’re the most bubbly motherfucker on the planet.”

“That’s why I said typically, babe, let’s try and keep up.” Eddie nuzzles closer and chews his lip. “Y’know, mostly based on Steve and Jonathan. Maybe a little bit of Hagan.”

“You’re putting way too much thought into this.”

“There’s definitely a pattern, wouldn’t you say? Lanky brunets…” Eddie wonders. “Brooding, pale skin, brown eyes…”

Billy’s eyes stay locked on the page that he hasn’t finished reading yet, jaw set as Eddie tippy-taps his fingers against the blond’s chest.

“Is your type just… vampires?” Eddie muses.

“Energy vampires, maybe,” Billy grumbles. He dog-ears the page and finally shuts his book, laying it in his lap. “But no.”

Eddie chuckles. Flattens his hand against Billy’s sternum and smooths his palm back and forth.

“Seems like it to me.”

“This may surprise you, but I’m not so shallow that I only care about looks.”

“So…” Eddie trails off. “There’s an outlier.”

“Edd—“

“Who is it?”

“I’m not doing this right now.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you’re contractually obligated to tell me about your hot man crushes.”

Billy presses his lips together and doesn’t budge when Eddie tries to shake an answer out of him. Eddie is about to start more roughly demanding when the doorbell rings, and it derails his train of thought long enough for Billy to slip away from him.

The blond jumps up from his seat to answer the door, practically ripping the door off of its hinges when he opens it. Light pours into the entryway, obstructed by a tall figure.

“Thanks for ordering Surfer Boy Pizza where we make everything fresh except…” the voice trails off momentarily, nearly cut off by the bubbly laugh that exits the guy’s lips. “‘Sup, lil’ dude!”

A hand shoots out to fist bump Billy, which he barely reacts fast enough to reciprocate. Still, the blond spreads a dopey little smile.

“Hey, Argyle,” he greets. Soft, for how flustered he is.

“Man, I didn’t know you lived right here or I would’ve been hopping the fence for backyard smoke seshes.”

Billy fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a new situation. Still getting settled.” Which is technically true if you count the box that’s been sitting unpacked in the corner for two weeks. “You should still come by sometime, though. When, uh… you’re not working, obviously.”

“Def!” Argyle says. “That’ll be fourteen fifty, bro.”

Billy digs in his wallet for a moment before he slaps a couple of bills in the other guy’s hand, which he trades the pizza for.

“Keep the change.”

Argyle furrows his brows.

“You gave me thirty.”

“Then I guess you have some extra cash for snacks when we hang out,” Billy lilts.

Argyle nods. Spreads a grin as he pockets the cash and fist bumps Billy once more.

“Sweet,” he says, and turns on his heel. “I’ll be seeing you around, lil’ dude!”

Billy waves briefly before he kicks the door shut, turning to walk into the kitchen and stopping in his tracks when he sees Eddie smirking at him from the couch.

The blond’s face turns ten different shades of red in a matter of seconds.

“The pizza guy, huh?” Eddie teases. “I see it.”

“I haven’t seen him much since I left Cali, alright? He just moved in with Jonathan and I haven’t had time to visit.”

“Right.”

Billy shifts his weight on his feet, furrowing his brows.

“Am I under investigation or something?”

“Nerds.”

“What?”

“Nerds. That’s your type. You like ‘em kinda dorky and way too interested in their hobbies.”

Billy scoffs.

“Stevie isn’t a nerd.”

“He’s a sports guy. You can twist it how you want, but he’s a nerd about it.”

“Tommy, then.”

“Too into cars.”

“Jon— actually, I understand that one, but Argyle is definitely not a nerd.”

Eddie chuckles and leans his elbow against the armrest, setting his chin in his hand thereafter.

“How many weed strands can that guy name? More than I can, and I can name a lot.” Eddie clicks his tongue when Billy has no counter argument. “Plus, he’s super passionate about his job. He talked my ear off about toppings for twenty minutes one time when I called in.”

Billy sighs. Sets the pizza down on the counter and crosses his arms, clearly working things over in his head. Eddie gets up in the meantime and strolls over. Gently pushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face before he laces his arms around his neck.

“Jokes aside, I think it’s nice that you like so many different people.”

Blue eyes meet his, and Billy softens. Sets his hands on Eddie’s hips.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I mean, you have lots of love to give, y’know? Of course it’s spilling over, sweetheart. Your cup is full.”

Billy chews his lip thoughtfully.

“I never looked at it that way before.”

Eddie leans closer. Kisses the corner of his partner’s mouth while he toys with a lock of his hair, soft to the touch and free of product.

“Glad my ramblings were of use to you,” Eddie chuckles. “Wanna have a sit-down with sleeping beauty after dinner? Talk some strats for getting you out of the friend zone?”

“I dunno if I wanna do that.”

“I’m pretty sure Steve’s had the hots for Tommy for a while now, so maybe we can knock everything out all at once.”

Billy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not crushing on anyone? I might have to do some digging on you too, Munson, mister hopeless romantic.”

“I’m fine with bothering you two for eternity. I’m actually making it my life’s goal as we speak.”

“Of course you are.”

Billy ropes him closer, pulls him up to his tippy toes so he can press his lips to his neck — one of Eddie’s many, many weaknesses.

One of the others is, unfortunately, being manhandled. Even though Billy is gentle, it sends a thrill down Eddie’s spine when he’s lifted effortlessly.

“Want me to pay you back for the pizza?” Eddie breathes.

He makes a surprised noise when a large hand squeezes his ass.

“Keep your money, baby,” Billy lilts. Low and affectionate and now Eddie is the one getting flustered. “Wanna go wake Stevie up so we can eat and have our little discussion?”

Eddie nods. Shudders when Billy mouths at his throat and holds him ever closer.

“Yeah…” he manages.

Then Billy releases him. Let’s his socked feet touch the floor once again before he’s patting his behind and ushering him out of the kitchen.

Eddie has this sneaking suspicion that they’re gonna do way more than talk after they eat.

#harringroveson #mostly Mungrove bc Steve isn’t there #other relationships implied #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harington #argyle stranger things #Billy is an academic and you can’t change my mind #he reads weird shit in his free time for fun and has a massive vocabulary #also #is there a ship name for Every Guy in st yet? #bc there should be #bc I’m obsessed w it #I actually have a whole fic planned around the premise of Billy being poly and struggling w it #having a crush on five dudes at once is hard work #my writing #ficlet #not edited #only guy I haven’t picked up yet is Keith (and Jason but I don’t think I’m there yet)

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Summary: Miguel makes a horrible mistake while trying to find the rogue Spider-gang.

A goth!reader x Hobie Brown/ a hint x Miguel too :3c

Reader is pronoun-less but does wear a dress and makeup

Warnings: Violence

Part 1? (Will link to part 2 if I continue this)

It was with some apprehension you peaked round the corner of your door. You'd grown accustomed to Hobie's strange life. In one second and gone the next, with a parade of strange and amazing people needing help.

Some were locals, friends of friends that were down on their luck and needed a sofa to crash on. Other's were... odd. Like the young lady he brought back. Shy at first, with scuffed ballet shoes, an odd costume and sad eyes. She opened up over her time crashing with you, though never with any specifics. Gwen, no last name. An American struggling with her father. The bridge didn't seem burned so you'd often nudge her to try with him, though she brushed those comments off.

She took up drums in Hobie's band and you'd often join them for practice. Sitting drawing on the amps as they played, gently humming along. She became a regular in your home and you loved her like a little sister.

You'd grown very fond of her stories of life across the pond and her little 'friend'. He sounded like an amazing kid, brave, smart, kind. He put you in mind of a certain other kid you'd known as a teen. The crush she had was obvious and you grew to hope she'd be with this boy again soon.

Your own love life was too tragic and you felt vicarious frills though her blushing blustering. You still held a torch for a certain lanky punk living in your guest room. You'd inherited the flat after a grandparent passed and used the space to help your community best you could.

You'd re-met Hobie Brown in a club and were smitten. A mutual friend introduced him as their couch surfer. By the end of the night you were joint at the hip again and he was staying in that empty room.

You loved his addition in your life. He was supportive of your art and helped fend off creeps when you were out. Despite the closeness nothing was ever really said. He'd be all over you one day, then curt the next. Still it was everything to even be his friend... you hoped you were his friend at least.

He'd acted a little off the last couple of days, tense since Gwen had left. You'd suspected it was just lost sleep from taking the sofa while she was here but it lingered.

Then he grumbled to himself about Miles, worrying about the kid. Miles was a name you recognized, Gwen's little crush. Was the kid in trouble? Did he need your help? You'd rounded the sofa, plopping down next to Hobie. The clatter of your jewellery normally heralded your arrival but he jumped at you this time.

"You're keeping an eye out for him right?" You asked, meeting his eyes for the first time in days. The bruised tone the skin took on shocked you. He must really be worried, not sleeping at all by the looks of him.

"Gwen's boy? Right?" You probed again. Hobie's eyes closed, a gentle smile breaking out across his face. In moments like this you remembered his modeling days. God he was gorgeous.

"Course I am." He beamed. You couldn't help but smile back, clapping his shoulder as you stood.

"Good. And you bring him here if he wants, he's always welcome." You added boots clomping back towards your kitchen. You watched his back over the counter as he strode into his room. He looked over his shoulder at the last step, saluting you with two fingers to his temple. Then the door closed, leaving you alone .

For a moment the flat shook, less secure items drifting into the air before clattering back down. You heaved a sigh, shifting to tidy up. He was gone.

For months you both had avoided the topic. He'd given excuses at first but you'd spied the suit under his clothing too often to not know. Still he didn't explain and you couldn't bring yourself to pry. He was spider-man, that much you were sure. Whatever those portal things he and Gwen used were a mystery. You wondered how much he thought you knew sometimes but with the state of the UK at the time you could hardly dwell on things.

It was days again before you saw him, gawking as a whole group of Spider costume clad folk came tumbling out his room. You froze, spoon in mouth at the procession. Still wrapped in a towel, hair soaking from your shower. Spider-folk of all shapes, a baby and... was that a pig?

"Y/n! Hi... um... we...." Gwen fumbled forwards, a tall kid in a black costume trailing after her. You noted their locked hands, one piece of the puzzle coming together for you.

"Miles!" You beamed, swallowing and placing the bowl down. He was taller than you'd expected but the nervous look about him was just as she'd described. You looked the kid over, he was pretty beat up. In fact they all looked worse for wear.

"God Gwen what happened to you lot?" You fretted, turning Miles to get a better look at his scrapes. "Damn let me get the kit." You turned but Hobie caught your hands. He held them, a panicked look written across his face.

"Y/n, I can't explain right now but things are bad, we gotta..." He spoke quickly. Your eyes focused on his hands engulfing your own, he was so close. Sure you'd sat by him before, been pressed up to his chest in crowded pubs and shows but this felt different.

When your eyes darted up to his you noticed the blood trickling from a gash on his brow. The piercing just narrowly escaping the carnage. Your fingers slipped from his hand to hover by the wound.

"The tension!" You heard a boy speak to your left but were too focused on Hobie's serious expression and injury.

You felt your lip tremble a little before the blood drop drifted up. The tell tale shake and gravity change of another portal opening.

"Bathroom now!" You and Hobie barked in unison, coming apart. The Spider-folk, Gwen and him rushing to the door. Miles hesitated to nod to you before being tugged through and the door being slammed.

You fumbled back to your room just in time for the portal opening in your kitchen. You peaked out, a man stood there. Tall, broad and predatory. His eyes darting around the room, locking on the bathroom door.

No!

You stumbled out into the room, hand still gripping your towel, feigning surprise but hiding the fear.

"Oh hey!" You plastered a grin to your face. God you wished you'd have had a minute to get dressed this morning. You had a fair idea who this might be. Gwen and Hobie had complained and joked about this... boss? Miguel, a towering figure with a chip on his shoulder.

"Miguel right?" You engaged again, his attention seemed to have drifted more to you now anyway. He crossed by the bathroom door to stand closer in your living room. "Gimmie just a sec I wasn't expecting anyone yet."

You half shut the door, flinging a loose dress over your body. You couldn't risk leaving him too long in case he went investigating before the others found a way to leave.

Miguel found himself utterly confused at the situation. Sure he'd done a little probing into all the Spider-people he'd allowed into his confidence. You were Y/n, Hobie's MJ, so to speak. He'd only done a brief search, just enough to see you and find out Hobie hadn't told you much. Well so he thought anyway, now you seemed far more clued in.

You seemed too cheerful to really know him properly however. Maybe Hobie was smarter than he'd taken him for and come up with some false life to placate you. He was learning not to underestimate the guy more and more these days.

Miguel eyed photos littering the walls. Mainly of you and Hobie, a few with Gwen, he sneered at them. This punk who'd ruined everything. Miles would have never gotten away without his help, Gwen wouldn't have gotten back to him. Things would've been so much easier if he'd have never asked for his help. How was he to know that this talented Spider would turn out to be such a pain in his ass.

He turned, sensing your return before you popped back into view. The sight stunned him more, not even hearing whatever you were saying. He'd not looked so hard before but now his eyes were glued to you.

In all this time he'd never actually seen you without the heavy goth makeup. Or with your roots showing, a couple of centimeters of true hair colour. How had he not noticed before? Those eyes, he should have seen it sooner. You were the spitting image of his late wife. Just younger and darker dressed.

What a cruel joke the universe was playing on him. Of all the people to get to have you it had to be him. It wasn't fair, he didn't deserve you. Miguel tried to center himself, breathing heavily through his nostrils. God you even smelled the same.

"So... you're Hobie's boss right? He told me all about you, well not all, hardly anything actually... can I get you something?" You rambled, hair dripping onto the light dress.

You were jumping out your skin. Something about his aura was just, threatening? A predator primed to pounce. Then the way his eyes followed you, body stiff and un-moving as he observed you.

Christ you had to keep him stalled here, no telling if they'd made it out yet. Surely they'd have to use the portal thingy right? The strange watch Hobie had started wearing all those months back, right when the strangeness of your life was dialed up.

In an awful moment you spied it on the coffee table. Cursing in your mind you flicked your eyes back to the wall of towering muscle between you and it. He'd relaxed somewhat, eyes still burning into your own but no longer tensed.

Satisfied he wasn't about to pounce you brought the smile back to your lips, raising your brow as if to encourage him to talk. Like there was nothing wrong with having this giant figure dressed in a spider-man costume in your flat.

"Well Hobie's not checked in, worried about him you know?" He spoke, his voice gruff at first until he cleared it. He smiled at the end, an oddly charming look to him.

"Oh?" You hummed trying to make the walk over to the table as casual as possible. You bent gathering a scattering of papers you'd drawn on. You slipped the watch on top, pulling the bundle to your chest. "He seemed fine when he left this morning, sure he's not..."

You froze as you turned, voice catching in your throat as you turned back to a face-full of pecs. You stumbled back, clutching the hard lump to your breast as your breath began to quicken.

Miguel stalked after your retreating form. He'd suddenly become bashful at your bent form, the light linen unbeknownst to you giving him too much of a view of your rear. His eyes had flicked trying desperately to focus on anything else. They'd caught a light red stain on the hem, frowning with concern turned rage as he followed to your fingers on the paper.

A smear of red across it, the copper stink of that punk lingering there. He strode forward stopping short of you. What was he really going to do? He didn't want to threaten you. Still he knew Hobie had been here and recently by the freshness. He had to find out what you knew.

He hated the look of fear that flashed across your face, the way you stumbled over the table leg to back up but he couldn't stop. He stalked closer, matching every step back with his own pursuit. His strides were longer and in a matter of seconds he had you against the kitchen counter.

You stared up at the flaring nostrils, the bared teeth, fangs. A lump in your throat ached, your heart thundering against your chest. Gwen joked about him being a vampire, Count Hard-ass she'd laughed, making fangs of her fingers. It wasn't so funny now.

"Get away from her!" Hobie bellowed, the bathroom door flung clean of it's hinges as he burst out. Miguel whipped round and in that moment you flung the watch to him.

"Run!" You screeched, darting round Miguel in a second to attempt block him.

The sound of the portal opening rung out, the floor rattling worse than ever before. Paper, guitar picks, paints all drifted into the air. You could hear a commotion behind you. Shoes scuffling, pleading but you kept your eyes locked of Miguel.

He watched in a fury as Miles caught the watch and began to try escaping. His path was blocked though, your smaller frame darting in his way, keeping yourself between him and them. Enraged he growled, unwilling to barrel past you, locking eyes with Hobie.

Gwen and that black and white spider-man had him by the arms, attempting to drag him towards the rest of the group. He was pointing out over her head, right at Miguel. His face contorted with a rage he'd never seen on the guy. Still they made there way closer to their exit, Miles and the others already gone.

Miguel tried once more to round you but a pair of small arms wrapped around his waist. You screamed, forcing all your weight against him, desperate to delay him long enough.

Miguel froze, the memories of his you flashing through his mind. Your arms wrapped around him as he made breakfast. Groggy good mornings and kisses, you violently being ripped from him, the hole it'd left. Then the pain all over again when he lost the 2nd chance with you. The very future Hobie would bring you again by helping this anomaly.

He flung you aside and in an instant he realized his mistake, as his clawed hand raked across your face. The screams mixed, your pained screech, Hobie's yell, his own shout. Still it was too late they made it through, Hobie and his eyes still locked on your body as it hit the ground.

You crumpled against the floor, the blood splattering up white wall and against the wooden floor. Then the portal closed and everything fell.

In the sudden silence Miguel stared at your prone body on his knees. He glanced down at the bloodied claw, retracting them in.

"Y/n?" He tried, voice barely audible. He leaned forward into a crawl, shifting closer. How could he have done this, those idiots, if they'd have just listened to him! Why did they have to go dragging you into their mess.

His hand hovered unsteadily over your shoulder, your head lifted. Miguel swallowed hard at the deep scores against your face, just barely missing an eye. This was gonna be fine, he could take you back, the medical help in his world was the best, you'd be fine.

Bleary eyes refocused on his figure, hunkered down over you. You shrieked, scrambling back, hands coming up to clutch your face. You wailed curses at him between tears, begging him to leave.

Miguel rose, still on his knees watching you curl into a tight ball as far as you could get from him. "If you'd just let me..." he began.

"Get out!" You shrieked, a manic tinge to your voice. Miguel's heart sank, a sick feeling in his gut as he stood. He turned, stalking as far away as he could before opening the portal back to HQ. He took one last glance past the spilled paint and broken door. In all his time with different yous, he'd never seen you so afraid. He wanted to reach back out but he knew he couldn't, so he left.

Part 2??????

#hobie x y/n #miguel x reader #across the spider verse #spiderman imagine #hobie brown #miguel o'hara #my fics

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Congrats, Star!!! Will you write Rooster with smut prompt 10?? 💕

Hi Em! I think you're going to really love this one! 😜😜😜For @roosterforme You want me to ruin you, don’t you?💕💕💕

Surfer Boy

God bless San Diego, and god bless the US Navy. It’s a thought you’ve had probably a hundred times a day since you moved into your parent’s vacation home on the beach permanently. It’s become something of a morning routine for you. Every morning you brew a carafe of coffee and sit on the wicker furniture on the veranda as you watch this cluster of ridiculously sexy Navy guys gambol in the waves. There are always a few different guys in the group each morning, but one guy is always there. He’s about six feet tall, muscular, with a mop of shiny chestnut curls on his head. On his lip is a mustache that looks straight out of a porno from the 80s. It shouldn’t look as good as it does, but he makes you swoon. So yeah, you’re crushing on the Navy boy with a mustache. You have no idea who he is, what he does, nothing. But each morning, like clockwork, you perch yourself on your veranda furniture, coffee mug in hand, and watch him play in the sand. 

On Tuesday afternoon, when you’ve just gotten home from work, you meet him in person. There’s a persistent knocking on your back door. You open it warily, not sure what to expect. You still remember hiding with your mom in the corner between the sofa and the loveseat when a couple of drunks had been knocking on the back door. You have a high level of surety that it’s not a drunk, though, seeing as how it is about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. It’s not a drunk.

 On the contrary, it’s all the Navy boys you’ve ever seen on the beach in the early morning on the sand in front of your deck steps. In the center stand two, your mustached man and a blonde with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. They both wear wetsuits and look like they’ve swum in the waves. It’s the blond who pushes Mr.Mustache towards you.

“Hey, Darlin’. This here’s Rooster. He’s been ogling you for months. We’re sick of it. He’s your problem now. Fuck him, Kiss him, Feed him, Water him, I don’t care. I’m done being his keeper. Bye, now!”

Your mouth is half open, mid-word when they all turn around and walk away in unison. They don’t stop where they usually play on the beach, either. They just keep walking. That leaves you staring down at one flustered-looking man. His big eyes are glancing pleadingly up at you, and you can feel yourself folding like a cheap lawn chair at that look in his eyes.

“C’mon in, I guess. Shoes off on the mat. Do you want anything to drink?”

He’s oddly silent as he follows behind you. You can feel his presence behind your shoulder as you putter about in your small kitchen reaching for glasses and fetching a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge. You press the glass into his hand and lean against your counter, sipping the cool liquid.

He drains the glass with one smooth movement before finally speaking to you.

“I’m really sorry about this, doll. I should’ve stopped them.”

He’s dragging his hands through his curls, pulling one to rest over his eyes.

“What do you have to apologize for? It sounds like you were as taken aback as I was.” 

You set your glass down and step into his space, carefully pulling the glass out of his hands. 

“And, if what they said was true, baby, I’ve been thinking about doing bad things with you for a very long time.”

He blinks at you for several moments as you hoist yourself onto the kitchen counter next to him. From your new spot, you’re near enough to see the flecks of gold in his whiskey eyes. You tug on his hand until he’s standing between your parted thighs, and that’s when you know he wants you as much as you want him. You wrap an arm around the back of his neck and pull him in until you can feel the puffs of his breath on your lips. 

“D’you want this, honey?” Your voice is deeper and a little rougher.

“Please.”

You crash your mouth to his, gasping at the feeling of his mustache brushing against your sensitive skin. He lets you drive the kiss and move his head and hands until your skin hums with arousal. When you finally pull away, his eyes are blown wide, and his wetsuit has a considerable bulge. 

“Oh, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, clambering off the counter and softly pushing him back before tugging your shirt and pants off. You kneel in front of him, nuzzling at his bulge before pressing kisses against it and his thighs. His hands flex against his sides as you stand before him again.

“You want me to ruin you, don’t you?” Your voice is a sinful purr as you trail your fingers across his chest and stomach.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what, honey?” You cup his cock with firm fingers as he whimpers and jerks his hips into your grasp.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

You drag him into another kiss for being such a good boy before letting him go. He whines at the loss of your touch as you walk to his back and drag the wetsuit's zipper down. It falls open at his waist, and it’s only moments before you have the most beautiful man naked in your kitchen. You drop to your knees and finally relieve your sweet boy's misery. The first gentle, wet drag of your tongue over his cock has the most beautiful punched-out moan spilling from his lips. At that, all your resolve fades away. You want this man’s cum in your mouth. It’s filthy and wet as you gag on his cock. 

“Baby, it’s okay, fuck my mouth.”

He takes that as the permission it is, fucking your throat as hard as he can. You look up at him with pleasure-hazed eyes as he chases his pleasure, every muscle in his body working in unison to bring him pleasure. He cums with a bit-off groan when you roll his balls between your fingers. That’s when you end up with a naked six-foot-tall man curled into your lap on your kitchen floor.

“Bradley, darling. How do you feel?” Your voice is soft as you run your fingers through his salty, sweaty curls.

“I feel so good, baby. I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“I love you, Mr. Bradshaw. Tell me what your squadron says when they realize you were ogling your wife.”

His laugh has your own spring forth, and that’s how the two of you spend the rest of your night. Laughing and still as hopelessly in love with each other as you were the day you got married.

Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!

- XOXO Star

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #100 follower celebration #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun imagine

[x-heesy]

𝚃𝚑𝚊 𝚗𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚊 (𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜)

𝙴𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚂𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝙳𝚊𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚟1 𝚋𝚢 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚊 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜 v3

#im freaking the fuck out #gif mood board #mood in between #2/2024 #vienna #Elusive Scripts #Daelek #Dev1 #Sofa Surfers #deepdarkanddangerous #makes me wanna dance #track of the day #exploring music #international beats #dark hip hop #broken beats #nasty beats #shakewhatyamamagaveya #trip hop #bouncer #sick and twisted #i need to dance the fuck out #x-heesy #fucking favorite #music #now playing #spotify #music and art #dancing in the dark

[kitseddie]

This Must Be The Place

Chapter 2: High & Dry

Part 1

Part 3

(Eddie Munson x GN!Reader)

Summary: Eddie spends movie night at Harrington’s like always, expect this week they’ve got a lot to pick his brain about. His plans to see you are the gossip of the friend group. But it’s not date. Is it?

WC: 2.3k +

Warnings: smoking/drugs (weed)

A/N: Hi!! Thank you for all the love on my first post of the series, it’s already doing a million times better than it was on ao3. This chapter and the next is from Eddie’s perspective but the rest will be from the reader’s!

It was movie night. Eddie, Steve, Robin, Jonathan and Argyle were spread out in various areas of Steve’s living room. Robin lay with her back to the coach, her head tilting as she watched the movie upside down. Steve was on the floor, his back pressed against the leather as he shovelled popcorn in his mouth. Argyle and Jonathan were void of any personal space, not that was anything new.

Argyle nuzzled his head in Jonathan’s chest at some point and after a millisecond of thought, he naturally wrapped his arm around his back and they laid there comfortably. Focusing on the joint, Eddie sat on the opposite end of the sofa in the same position as Steve slowly bringing it to his lips. His head tilted back as he gently blew out the smoke and took a deep breath, handing it behind him to Jonathan.

It was known that Steve and Robin weren’t huge horror fans, Steve was pretty jumpy and Robin was easily grossed out by gore. But they were outvoted by Eddie who needed everyone to see Night of The Living Dead. It originally started as a Robin and Steve thing, watching movies like fast times so they could both gawk over the babes. Then Eddie tagged along, then Jonathan and Argyle when they found time to fly over from California.

Eddie wouldn't admit it, he knew it would be fueling everyone's ego too much or that they‘d tease him about it, but this was one of his favourite pastimes. Don't get him wrong, band practice with Jeff and Gareth was certainly up there. But he liked his newfound friends.

“So Eddie, how’s the studying going?”. Robin asked seriously as Eddie and the guys snickered, he was grateful to be alive. But having to go back to regular ol’ Hawkins High and finish his third year of high school wasn’t much of a reward.

“Swimmingly.” He smirked, as she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the movie. A character in the movie shot at a gas pump causing a huge loud explosion and everyone but Eddie jumped. Argyle and Jonathan let out a “WOAH!” and Robin chuckled at how intense the scene was.

“A girl in band told me they're letting the trainee's tutor now, a way to get extra teaching credit or something. I can get them to put your name down?”. He sighed and shook his head, he could barely focus on class when he wasn't being watched. Having a helicopter tutor wasn't exactly his idea of fun.

“Come on dude, don't you want to finally graduate this year?”. Steve interjected, resting his head back to meet Eddie’s eyes. He knew he was right, he didn't want to have to repeat this year again. Especially when all his free time was either spent working or at school.

“Fine Buckley, you win. Just don't expect too much personal growth from me, this is but a baby step.” She smiled slightly, kicking his leg as he grinned back at her in thanks.

“Woah man, Eds is right. Every step a baby takes is a baby step...because they're babies.” Argyle spoke up as Jonathan seemed entranced by this realisation as everyone else just shook their head with a chuckle. “Why was the moon dude taking one small step? Isn’t he like 5’11 or something? He should totally be taking big steps.”

Eddie leant behind him and patted Argyle’s knee with a wide grin on his face. “I’ve missed you, man.” He chuckled as Argyle nodded with a smile, Eddie reached for the box of Surfer Boy Pizza and funnelled it into his mouth. Whilst his mouth was too full to rebuttal, Steve shared a glance with Robin before seizing his opportunity.

“So it’s Friday tomorrow“. Eddie seemed confused, watching as Steve’s smirk grew wide. After swallowing the food left in his mouth, the older boy chuckled a little.

“I was all wrong about you Harrington, clearly you’ve got the brains and the brawn”. Without much of a second thought, his mouth took another large chomp and he chewed in blissful ignorance.

“Well, I just figured you'd be a bit nervous about your date tomorrow.” Eddie’s eyes widened, staring back at his friend in pure shock. His neck snapped back to Robin who shrugged with guilt, she didn't mean to tell him. She just really can’t be trusted with secrets. He swallowed harshly, not losing his composure.

“For your information, it's not a date. Strictly platonic, like I said I'm not-”

“Boyfriend material, yeah we got it. But do you ever consider you’re not giving yourself enough credit? I mean you're not...terrible looking.” He shook his curls and laughed to himself, taking a sip from his beer bottle.

“Man, thanks, Rob.” She rolled his eyes at his sarcasm and flipped onto her stomach, to make eye contact with him.

“Okay, you're charming and funny and you're like really passionate about a lot of things...and guitar, you play the guitar and you're in a band and people really find that like...attractive? Or something?.” It wasn't that she didn't have a lot of good things to say when it came to her long-haired friend, it was just a little harder to figure out what parts of him would be considered attractive.

“Robin, I love you but you are terrible at pep talks.” Steve watched his friend crash and burn as he tried to latch onto the true meaning of what she was saying.

“What she means is, you're a good dude. You got a lot going for you, they’re gonna be totally into you by the end of the day. And if not? That’s their loss.” Eddie smiled at that, trying not to show Steve how much that meant coming from a guy like him. Because it did, and he wished to have even half the amount of confidence he radiates but he's never been confident. He's just passionate. And sometimes unapologetic passion can be mistaken for confidence.

The rest of the night he hogged the joint and spent a lot of his time staring blindly at the television set, feeling the flicker of light against his face. His mind quickly went from blank to full of emotions and thoughts he'd never even considered when agreeing to make plans with you. Just the two of you. This wasn't something he did like, ever, and it wasn't like it was a stranger it was, you.

“Eddie? Edddieee? Earth to Munson?”. Dustin’s voice cracked through the veil, shaking his hands in front of his face to grab his attention. He glanced back at the Hellfire club, as they waited for him to make the next move. Lucas and Mike were taking a while to figure out how to use up their turns, and after about five minutes he had almost completely zoned out. This sucked. His anxiety shouldn’t be this bad over something so minuscule, and it certainly shouldn’t be affecting his dungeon master skills.

He threw himself into his alter ego and the anxiety he felt began to slowly subside. After the game was over everyone scattered and he looked over to see Dustin sitting on the seat closest to his throne. Glancing over his board he noticed his incessant stares and turned his attention to the young boy, eyebrows raising as he gestured for an explanation.

“Are they cute?”. He said plainly and completely unprompted, the dungeon master’s eyes widened, impatiently waiting for him to elaborate. “Steve told me you were flirting with someone at work.” A sigh escaped him, his eyes rolling in his head before he cursed Steve for discussing his business.

“My flirting or non-flirting communication with people doesn’t concern you, Henderson”. Dustin scowled slightly, Eddie taking a small pause before looking back up at him. “But yes…they’re cute”. A small smirk pulled up the side of his lips, as Dustin smirked back at him.

“So you’re gonna date?”. His hands subconsciously grabbed a hold of the die on Eddie’s board and he swatted his hand away like a fly.

“That is beside the point, the point is that Harrington is a snitch and you, my little friend, are a rat, Christ…with you, him and Buckley I can’t catch a break”. He pulled at the collar of his Hellfire shirt and shook his head, gathering his stuff before heading towards the door. He paused in his tracks and sighed to himself, slowly turning back at the curly-haired boy.

“You need a ride home?”. Dustin just nodded and Eddie sighed again shaking his head, then gesturing for him to follow him to his van. “No questions on the way back, or I will murder your character in cold blood”.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” He muttered and Eddie shook his head, smirking to himself. He was a good kid really. He didn’t mean to intrude, he knew the real culprits were those two numb skulls. His ringed fingers gripped onto the back doors of his van and he flung Dustin’s bike into the back with the rest of his junk.

“Hey!”. He protested and then saw the look in the older boy’s eye that said “ try me ”. So he zipped his mouth and Eddie closed the back of the van, both of them piling into the front. As the key turned the car filled with ear-piercingly loud metal music, and immediately Eddie bopped along to the song and tapped his hands against the steering wheel as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

It took a little less than a minute before Dustin reached over to turn the volume down, Eddie swatted away his hand once more before turning it up. “EDDIE! C’MON MAN!”. He yelled over the noise as the other boy gave him a death stare, turning it down to a respectful volume.

“You’re such a buzzkill, Henderson”. He muttered, focusing on the road in front of him. It was silent in the van, apart from the heavy guitar riffs coming from the mixtape. There was tension for a minute and Eddie knew Dustin was dying to irrigate him about his evening plans with you. What Dustin didn’t know was that Eddie had something he needed to get off his chest.

”Alright…” The child’s head lifted at the sound, a beat passed before he released the breath he held in his chest. “Alright. Here’s how this is going to go, one piece of advice for one question. But no pushing it. Got it?”. Deciding any rebuttals would leave him at a disadvantage the young boy nodded silently in agreement. Silence fell again.

“How did you know each other?”. He chuckled to himself with a shake of his hair, he should have known he was smart enough to make the first move.

“We were neighbours, basically? Joined at the hip since like birth and then their Dad joined the army, so they shipped them out to some other state”. Dustin just nodded in response, Eddie still working up the courage to be vulnerable. He trusted Dustin, he knew he wouldn’t judge him but saying it out loud made it real. And this was new territory for him.

“How do I know if it’s a date?”. He blurted, watching his friend's eyes widen in shock. It was rare he was ever so open like this and he’d seen Eddie scared but never nervous. Never worried and never about something like dates. His private life was just that, private. Dates, sex and relationships were his business and he kept that shit close to his heart for a lot of reasons.

So he knew you were different. You were making him shift in his seat at the thought of you, you made him think about stuff he wouldn’t ever consider, or at least not really.

“Why, do you want it to be a date?”. Eddie snapped his head to look back at him, feeling angry and quickly regretting his decision to be vulnerable. But the look in Dustin’s eyes eased him, his hands gripped at the steering wheel as he kept his composure.

“You already used up your question, Henderson.” He said sternly, looking back out at the road. He hated this. Because did he want to go on a date with you? Did he want to get to know you all over again and shoot his shot? The answer was beginning to become too blatant for him to ignore.

“I mean you just ask them, dude, I know it sounds like the obvious choice but it’s the only way you’re gonna get a straight answer.” He nodded, he sort of knew that would be the only way to go about it, he just wished that it wasn’t. There was another pause, the silence felt more comfortable this time. “Do you want it to be a date?”. The air immediately felt thick again.

“I said, don’t push it .” The driver growled, his walls beginning to rise.

“I’m not pushing it.”

“Henderson-“.

“I gave you advice! I’m asking my question! And just know that you not answering it, totally answers it, dude”. Once again he was saved by the bell, taking a sharp turn that caused Dustin to grip onto the roof to steady himself. He swerved his van into a spot outside his house and shifted it into a park. The curly-haired boy's eyes were wide in shock as his older friend remained deadpan.

“This is your stop, kid.” He was mad. But not at him, at himself. Dustin wasn’t feeling any better, not only did his swerve almost kill the both of them but it was reckless. He hated when he got like this. So guarded that he wouldn’t let anyone in. Eddie wanted to speak, to apologise but his throat felt so dry he couldn’t get a word out.

“Thanks,” Dustin muttered before throwing his backpack over his shoulder and hopping out of the vehicle. Eddie’s eyes followed him until he safely made it inside, and then he relaxed against his headrest. He had a lot to think about.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic #eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader

[munson-blurbs]

Take Me Higher (Older!Single Dad!Argyle x Babysitter!Reader)

Collaboration with @hxllfired and @corroded-hellfire 💚

Summary: Argyle hired you to babysit his son, but what happens when you and Argyle share a joint after work hours? Is your attraction to the sexy stoner reciprocated?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, protected p in v, drug use (weed only), slight age gap (5-7 years; Argyle and Reader are both over 18)

WC: 4k

--

“Alej, time to get ready for bed!” you call out, washing up the last of the dinner dishes. The little boy looks over at you from the sofa, dark brown eyes wide and lower lip jutting out in a pout.

“Five more minutes?” he asks. “I wanna read one more book!”

You shake your head and give a small laugh. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago,” you remind him. It would be too easy to give in and let him read until he falls asleep, but you know his dad would not appreciate it. “C’mon, you can show me those new Thomas the Train pajamas you were telling me about!”

Alej’s demeanor shifts to pure excitement, and he bolts into his room to change. He’s a great kid; incredibly smart and thoughtful for a six-year-old. It’s part of the reason why you love babysitting him.

It also doesn’t hurt that his dad is absolutely gorgeous, with long, raven-black hair, the sweetest smile, and the kindest heart. Insisting you call him Argyle, treating you like part of the family, always paying you for an extra full hour, even if he only ran ten minutes late. He smells faintly of weed and a musky cologne, and damn, do you want him bad.

You get Alej to bed and settle in on the couch and put on the TV, just in time to catch the newest episode of Friends. 

The door opens slowly, and your heart thumps as Argyle walks in. He’s got some flour smudged on his cheeks and forearms, and he looks exhausted. 

“Hi,” you greet him, managing a nervous smile. “Tough day at the office?”

He nods. “Three of my cooks called out, so I had to step in and help make pizzas. Haven’t done that shit in years.” 

“Nice of you to do that, though. Must be why all your employees love you.” Wait a second—are you technically an employee? You do work for him, just not at Surfer Boy. You feel your cheeks grow warm at the implication. 

Argyle just chuckles, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a ten dollar bill. “Shit, I thought I had a twenty in here.” He frowns and rummages through his pockets, only pulling out some loose change and a neatly-wrapped joint. 

“Sorry, that’s, uh, for later,” he mutters. “Takes the edge off a little, y’know?”

“You can smoke it now,” you shrug. “Alej’s sleeping, so…”

He fidgets with the joint, contemplating. “This might not be, like, professional or whatever, but d’you wanna join me?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer. It certainly won’t be your first time smoking weed, but you’ve never gotten high with him before. What if I say something stupid, or I can’t stop giggling like an idiot? you worry, but you follow him out to the small balcony outside the apartment. 

Flicking on the lighter, Argyle takes a big hit, visibly relaxing on the exhale. He passes to you, and you say a silent prayer that you don’t choke in front of him. 

“Classes are out for the semester?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you answer before taking a second hit and handing the joint back to him. “Then I’ve just got one semester left.”

“That’s fuckin’ awesome!” His smile sets you alight. “You wanna be a teacher, right?”

“That’s the plan.” And maybe it’s the two hits already going to your head, but you find yourself plucking the joint from between his lips and placing it between your own, grinning smugly at his shocked expression. 

“Wow,” Argyle says, feigning annoyance. “Here I am, sharing my favorite strain with you, and this is the kind of treatment I receive?” His joke makes you giggle, and you start coughing on the smoke. “That’s what you get,” he teases, stealing it right back and taking another hit. 

“Alej can’t stop talkin’ about you, by the way,” he confesses. “Says you’re the best babysitter ever.”

You beam proudly at the praise. “He’s honestly such a great kid. The most trouble he ever gives me is when he wants to stay up late to read.” You laugh. “I mean, what first-grader does that?”

Argyle shakes his head. “I dunno, man.” He looks so beautiful in the moonlight; you just want to kiss him. “I try to read to him all the time. Didn’t really have that growin’ up, and school wasn’t my thing. Teachers just kinda wrote me off as some dumb kid; didn’t even bother to pronounce my name right. That’s how I ended up with this nickname.” He laughs at your confused expression. “Don’t tell me you thought that ‘Argyle’ is my real name!”

“Well, you never told me otherwise!” you point out. “What is it, then?”

“Alejandro; just like Alej’s,” he says softly. “Had this teacher in fifth grade—Mrs. Young, which was funny, ‘cause she was really fuckin’ old—and she took one look at my name on the roster and pronounced it ‘Argyle.’ Next thing I knew, everyone was calling me that.”

You look at him, right in his deep brown eyes. “Do you want me to call you ‘Alejandro’?”

“Nah, man. ‘Argyle’ kinda fits me at this point. I just never want Alej to experience that. I always tell him to correct people if they say his name wrong.” He takes a long hit before admitting, “His mom wanted to give him an American name so he could ‘fit in,’ or whatever. Should’ve known she wasn’t for me right then and there. I mean, who wants to just, like, keep shit status quo?”

“Sounds boring,” you agree, voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re really…unique.” You blush as you say it. “I mean that in a good way, I promise.”

“Y’really think so?” he questions, repositioning himself slightly so he’s looking directly at you. “I feel like, ever since I had Alej–and I fuckin’ love that kid, don’t get me wrong–but I’m not as fun or interesting as I used to be.” He looks at the joint in his hand. “Like, I would smoke two of these and then party my ass off. Now I take a coupla hits and go to bed. Make sure I’m not too high in case Alej needs me.”

Your heart sinks at his admission. “Argyle, that’s not boring. That’s being a great dad. It’s why Alej’s so wonderful–because you’re raising him.” You scoot closer, letting your fingers rest on top of his. 

“Did I ever tell you how I got this scar?” he blurts out, motioning to the discoloration above his eyebrow. You shake your head, and he presses on. “My friend Jonathan and I were super high, and we got a hold of some BB guns. They weren’t mine, they weren’t his, but somehow, we had ‘em in our hands.” He gives a small laugh. “And I shot mine off, which scared him, and then he pulled his trigger, and it hit me…right there.”

“You could’ve gone blind!” you gasp, leaning in to get a better look. Instinctively, you run your thumb over the scar, and you feel him shiver at your touch.

“Yeah…we never let him near a weapon again. Not even a water gun.” 

“Don’t blame you,” you muse, “you’ve got really nice eyes.” Shit, did you just say that?

But Argyle’s too focused on your lips to notice your embarrassment. “You’ve got really nice…everything.” He brings his face to yours, cupping your cheek with his strong hand and kissing you gently. You feel the electricity flowing between you before he pulls away suddenly.

“Sorry…I shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbles. “You’re my kid’s babysitter. Wouldn’t be right.”

“No, no, I…I really liked that,” you say reassuringly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile, actually.” Maybe even do more than that, you think to yourself. You beam at him, willing him to kiss you again.

A small voice stops both of you in your tracks. “Daddy? You’re home!”

“Alej, what are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed!” Argyle rubs his face in annoyance. “C’mon, go back to your room, little dude.”

“But I’m thirsty,” Alej whines. 

“I’ll grab him some water,” you say, putting your hand on Argyle’s arm. You only rest it there for a second before you realize what you’re doing. You watch Argyle try to inconspicuously adjust himself in his pants as you head inside. 

You hand Alej the glass of water, and he accepts it gratefully, gulping down half of it. “Go say good night to your dad and head back to bed, big guy,” you say kindly. He looks up at you, offering a gap-toothed smile before he dashes off to hug Argyle, water nearly sloshing over the top of the glass. 

“Thanks, buddy,” Argyle murmurs, squeezing his son tight and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Get some rest, okay?” Alej nods, running back toward you.

“Careful with the–” you start, but it’s too late. Alej stumbles over his feet, catching his balance before he falls, but not before spilling the water all over your white shirt.

“Sh–sugar!” you cry out, and the boy bursts into tears. “It’s okay, Alej,” you crouch down, pulling the wet fabric away from your skin. “This is just why we have to be safe and walk in the house, especially when we’re holding things.” You wipe the tears from his cheeks. 

Argyle runs over to you. “Let me put him back to bed, and I’ll grab you a shirt to change into.” You start to protest, about to tell him that you can just head home, but he’s already scooped his son into his arms. He’s left the joint in the ashtray, but it’s still lit, and you take another quick puff. The high really hits you, leaving you slightly dizzy and more than a little giggly.

You’re daydreaming when Argyle comes back into the kitchen, clutching a Grateful Dead t-shirt. “This’ll do the trick,” he says, tossing it to you. “You can just throw yours in the dryer; y’shouldn’t drive while you’re this high, anyway, so you might as well stick around.”

Without thinking, you pull your damp shirt over your head, giving him a glimpse of your white lace bra. You shimmy into his shirt, glancing down as you smooth the logo over your torso. “How do I look?” you ask, giving a little twirl.

“Really, really good,” he breathes, stepping towards you and gripping your waist. “Did…did you mean what you said about wanting to kiss me?”

You nod, placing your palm flush against his chest. “Is Alej asleep?” you whisper, using your free hand to play with his hair.

“Out like a light,” he confirms, a smirk growing on his face. With that, you kiss him, much harder than the first time. You let out a small moan as his tongue grazes yours, and he hooks a finger around your belt loop as he pulls you even closer. He tastes like pineapple and the pot you’ve shared. You give his plush bottom lip a small bite as you part.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You’re not the only one who’s thought about this, and it’s even better than I’d imagined.”

“And what exactly did you imagine?” you ask salaciously, brushing his hair off of his neck and standing on your tiptoes to suck a bruise into it. 

“Wanna make you feel good…want you to make me feel good,” he tells you before kissing you again, lifting you so you can wrap your legs around his waist. He positions his hands under your ass and grabs it harshly. 

“Your room,” you choke out, and he all but sprints there, sitting on the bed so you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his hardened length underneath you, and you grind down on it, desperate for the friction against your clothed pussy. 

Argyle brings his lips to your ear, nibbling on the lobe as he whispers, “We have to be quiet, okay?” You nod, tugging his shirt over his head, and he does the same with yours—well, technically, it’s also his. 

You whimper as he trails his lips between your breasts, skillfully unhooking your bra with one hand. He brings his lips to your nipples, sucking on them as they harden in his mouth. 

“Your body is so fuckin’ perfect,” he says breathlessly, unbuttoning your jeans and helping you out of them. “Always felt kinda bad thinkin’ about this.”

“Don’t,” you tell him, repositioning yourself so one thigh is on either side of his hips. “I thought about it, too.” You unbuckle his belt and he shucks off his pants, using his feet to pull them down his ankles until they hit the floor. “So…many…times.” With that, you bring yourself to your knees and practically tear off his boxers, watching as his thick cock thwacks against his stomach.

You flatten your tongue, licking up his shaft, swirling around the tip and lapping up a pearly bead of pre-cum. He groans as you dig your nails into his thighs, leaving half-moons in your wake. 

“Need more?” you tease, gasping as he threads his fingers through your hair and brings you closer to his length. You wrap your lips around it and take him in. Argyle helps you find a rhythm, gently moving your head without being forceful.

“That’s s-so good,” he stutters, inhaling sharply as you quicken your pace. You have every intention of letting him finish, hollowing your cheeks as you suck harder, but he pulls out of your mouth with a pop.

“You can…I don’t mind,” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Not before I get you off,” he growls, helping you off the ground and onto the bed. You lay back as he reaches over to his nightstand and grabs a hair tie, pulling his hair into a low ponytail. “Let me take care of you, baby.” He parts your thighs and licks a stripe along your folds, pressing his tongue against your wet cunt. 

“Argyle, r-right there,” you moan as he begins his assault on your clit, humming and sending vibrations that you felt . He makes no attempt to silence the filthy wet noises emitting as he ravishes your pussy. 

The noises you make even surprise you, small squeaks and whines egging him on. You had fantasies about this, imagining Argyle, yes, but finding someone who can make you turn into mush before you’ve even cum. “Holy shit,” your breath hitches again when he teases a finger around your opening, that small sensation emphasizing and intensifying what he is doing to you. 

“Just like that,” you breathe out, “fuck.” 

Your hands begin to reach around desperately for something to grab, first the sheets, then a pillow. It wasn’t enough. It was like you were floating away and needed something to keep you here. Argyle is quick to react, his eyes hungry on you the whole time. He takes your hand into his tightly as the other slowly pushes a finger into you, then twists upwards toward that oh so special spot, and you are quick to realize that you never made yourself feel this good. You swear you hear him grinning against you when you react with an involuntary shake of your legs. 

He can admit everything for him has been pretty vanilla until this, and you have never been one to sleep with an employer, per say. But the way his second finger slips in and gives that incredible pressure building along with that persistent tongue on your clit is enough to make you moan, a little louder than intended, and then there’s a sharp pain on your thigh. 

“Did you just slap me?” You ask breathlessly once you brace yourself on your elbows to see him, a fucked out smirk on your flushed face. 

“Yes. Be - a good - girl.” He spoke through gritted teeth, and a smile peeked through matching yours. “My kiddo is in the next room. So be quiet so I can make you fucking cum.” 

You nod quickly, only to throw your head back when he wastes no more time, continuing his agonizing quick movements — you feel yourself tightening up, and you look at him again, pouting as your orgasm approaches, and he knows. He can feel it. 

“That’s it, baby.” He praises, and it forces another desperate mewl from you. “Please-“ you whimper, squeezing his hand harder as you feel yourself teetering over the edge. 

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” he chants against you as you fall onto your back again. He lets go of your hand to steady you as your thighs begin shaking. You’re practically seeing stars as you cum, trying to keep your voice down as you muffle his name like a prayer into your own hands.

“Such a good girl,” Argyle muses as he clambors back onto the bed. His finger is still gently thrusting into you still, and you’re so wet you can hear it. “Can you give me one more? One more on my cock, beautiful? Please?” His head cocked to the side coyly as he watched your aftershocks linger with his agonizing movements. He was seemingly mocking you, and you loved it. 

“Mhm,” your sweet, whiny voice breaks as you hold eye contact. This was a game two could play. You’re still coming down from your orgasm, and he’s still teasing you with that fucking finger, your pussy greedily sucking him in. He leans in, his eyes studying your face sincerely. The change in his expression adamant he was checking in, and you nod. “I’ll do anything you want, just stop teasing me and fuck me already.” 

“You and your fuckin’ dirty talk ‘s gonna kill me,” he couldn’t help but to grin like a sex crazed teenager, but it was endearing. He pulls his hand away from you and brings it to his lips, as if it would be the last taste of you he had. 

He kisses you again, and you lean up into him with a whole other level of desperation, mumbling against his lips about a condom. Argyle tries not to break your kiss, but as he fumbles around blindly for the foil packet in his nightstand he’s forced to pull away. “Yeah,” he‘s breathless, and you watch him bring the wrapper to his teeth and rip it open effortlessly. 

Argyle does not hesitate one bit as he places the rubber over his mushroom tip, and you’re nearly drooling at the thought of it stretching you, filling you up entirely. But his hands distract you, notably shaking. You don’t know whether or not he’s nervous, or eager to do this with you. 

“Argyle,” your voice is back to a soft normalcy, and he looks at you. Is he nervous? With you?

Taking initiative, your dainty hands help him roll the condom down his cock, and he watches as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “There,” you say as you lean into him again, lips brushing but not quite a kiss yet. 

Argyle's hands hold your waist, taking note of how your curves are a perfect fit for his hands. “Thank you.” He trails kisses along your collarbone. “One kid is enough for now.”

“Yeah, no babies,” you confirm, licking your lips and tilting your head back. 

“Mhm,”

The small talk seems to loosen him up a bit more. He’s trying to maneuver you onto your back but you are persistent to take control for now. “I want to ride you, can I please ride you?” you ask him, and Argyle swears that pout of yours would surely be the end of him. 

He takes your face in his hands, and your hands press onto his chest to push his back against the wall. You can still taste your slick on his mouth as you lean down to kiss him, and Argyle's fingers are digging into the flesh on your back. 

“Yeah?” He breathes. “Does the sweet, innocent babysitter want her payment now?” His words encourage you as you straddle him, making sure he can see your eager nod. He’s watching you as you’re desperately trying to line him up with your entrance — you don’t think you can last another second without him inside you. 

“Take your payment baby, take it and then some. You’re such a good babysitter.” 

The room becomes significantly quieter once you slowly push down onto him, your synchronized heavy breathing suddenly halts as you both take in the pleasure emitting from your connected bodies. “Fuck,” he groans first, his voice trailing as he breaks the silence. You’re feeling too much to even speak, your head thrown back and your arms wrapped lazily around his shoulders. You don’t move for a few moments, adjusting to his girth. 

“Stay with me baby girl,” his hands move to your face, bringing you to look at him as he pushes your hair back. “Gorgeous, you’d better start moving or I’ll-“ 

He’s cut off, jaw dropping when you slowly lift yourself up, and you’re quick to find a steady pace. Argyle's hands move to your hips quickly, firmly holding them as you both maneuver your bodies for the perfect angle. It doesn’t take you long, once he’s there you cannot hold back the erotic moan to apprise Argyle to stay right there.

“Oh, princess,” he goads you, “that feels good, yeah?” When you don’t answer, too blissed out and drunk on his cock, he brings his voice back to its usual register. “Really, is this okay?” It’s oddly sexy; hearing his genuine concern for your pleasure turns you on even more. 

You rock your hips, rubbing your clit against the thatch of curly brown hair at his base as you take him in deeper. “M-more than okay. ‘S too fucking amazing, holy shit.” 

Argyle’s big hands knead the fat of your ass, giving you leverage to ride him. You bring yourself up so he’s almost fully out of you before bouncing back down, watching his eyes roll back as you repeat the movement over and over. 

“I’m not gonna last if you keep doin’ that,” he groans. You can feel his dick twitching inside you. 

“Maybe that’s what I want.” You keep your tone salacious as you taunt him. “Maybe I want to make you cum harder than you’ve ever cum in your life.” 

He bites his lower lip as he thrusts into you, hitting every inch of your velvety walls. “Fuck, baby, ‘m cumming for you,” he pants. “Want—need—you to cum with me. B-Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Your orgasm washes over you as a string of swears leaves your lips. “Fuck—Argyle, I’m cumming. I’m fucking cumming all over you, all ‘cuz of you. Filled me up so damn good.” Your fingernails leave marks along his chest as you claw at it. 

With a low grunt and a final piston of his hips, Argyle spills into the condom. “Goddamn,” he whispers, slowly pulling out of you. “Best I ever had, I fuckin’ swear.”

You preen at his praise. “I’ve never cum like that before,” you tell him shyly. I just fucked my boss. Suddenly all-too aware of your own nudity, you scramble for your shirt.

And that’s when you realize. 

“Argyle!” you hiss. 

“Everything okay, baby?” he calls from the bathroom. Baby. He’s still calling you baby. 

“I, um, forgot to put my shirt in the dryer,” you murmur, embarrassed by your mistake. “I can just bring it home with me; hang it up to dry or something.” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Unless you have another half hour to kill?”

Argyle exhales, grinning widely. “Give me two minutes, yeah?” But you can already see him beginning to grow harder. “Good babysitters like you deserve a tip.”

--

#argyle stranger things #argyle smut #argyle imagine #argyle x y/n #argyle #argyle x female reader #argyle x fem!reader #argyle x reader #argyle x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #argyle fanfic #babysitter!reader

[taz-ma-raz-skylar]

I tried my best to translate the interview from Tikitakas!

( Mario Espinosa de los Monteros took the interview and uploaded it on March 29, 2024 08:42 CET)

Taz Skylar, the canary who triumphs on Netflix: "One Piece gave me an interspatial rocket with which I travel between planets"

The actor reviews his life with Diario AS and tells how he has left everything he had, several times, until he played Sanji, one of the protagonists of the series.

Personality, desires and ambitions are always cooked on a low heat. The pillars that support an individual are built brick by brick. The pillar of the past seems to be over, but every second something new is added. The one of the now is the closest and the most fictitious, because it gets out of hand before it can touch it. And the one of the future is raised by a ghost. That's how complex the reality is. Taz Skylar makes it simple: he steals his own bricks and assembles an excavator. It puts it in sixth gear, rams and destroys everything. Then, he collects the debris and begins to build again: a pillar in the shape of a scriptwriter, another with the appearance of an actor, another as a surfboard manufacturer. "You don't have to know everything, you just have to know what the next thing you have to do."

Taz plays the chef Sanji in the adaptation that Netflix has made of One Piece, the best-selling manga in history - so say the Guinness records - but to get there he has had to give a few strokes to his life. Today it is difficult to present it, but we will say that, among all things, he is a great actor who has been reinventing his life since he had the power to do so.

When we remember the life of Taz, who at 28 years old is still insultingly young, we see the times he has done and undone his way. His father is an Arab of Lebanese origin born in Sierra Leone, and his mother from Yorkshire (England), but he was born in Tenerife. As a child, "I didn't have too many friends" and "I spent all day on the internet, reading and watching videos." He was an introverted person who began to cook his imagination. He wasn't good at soccer or basketball, he was afraid of water and didn't run fast. The school wasn't his thing. He was diagnosed with dyslexia. Now he parachutes on Sundays, he is a black belt in taekwondo and has four series in production.

Leave everything to get somewhere.

At only 15 years old he started the excavator: he found an escape form in surfing, left school and went to Australia to repair boards. My whole life has been that. I'm leaving school and I'm going to Australia. I get there and look for my life. I'm running out of visa. Where am I going now? To California, come on. Then where? To San Sebastian." In this last city, capital of Guipúzcoa, he came to settle. "I was 18 years old and a little house, my car, a schedule that allowed me to train and travel." But he changed it to go to London "to live in a house shared with five people that had leaks on the roof and a bucket in the corner where the water fell." He wanted to be a screenwriter because he told the stories of the surfers to sell the boards. He broke with everything.

"When I went to Australia I didn't have much to lose, at most I was thrown there. But I was fifteen years old and I didn't look starving, someone was going to give me food and water." That's why, when he left San Sebastián, he felt that he was sacrificing something for the first time. "In London my bed was an Ikea sofa bed with a sleeping bag on top. I remember getting there and saying 'what the fuck did I just do'. I threwat everything I had in the trash and changed it for that, simply because I would like to be a screenwriter." Why did you hesitate that time, after years of knocking down pillars? "It's harder to give an axe to your life when it's tolerable. That is, it is easier to cut the head of nothing to achieve a lot, than to cut the head of something with the possibility of staying in nothing. There's the danger, in having something." Well, cutting heads on their way to London.

Question: Would you have gotten to where you are without maintaining that attitude?

Answer: "No, crazy, not at all. If I hadn't kept it, I don't know what would have happened to me. Basically I have a very intense energy, I have analyzed it a lot and I am aware that, if it were not because I have the ability to put my energy into positive things, I could easily have ended up badly, a person very addicted to things that are not good. Luckily I'm addicted to good things. If it weren't for this attitude, I could easily have been in a circle of bad things."

The beginnings in London were difficult. The change to urban life, too. Taz wrote and wrote. He enlisted in the Army reserves, but suffered a traffic accident and did not pass the medical exam. Then, he wrote and wrote, and released a play called Warheads, which explores the life of a soldier before and after the war and the post-traumatic stress it generates. Warheads was nominated for the Olivier (the most prestigious theater award in the United Kingdom) and the leaks of his house, the sleeping bag and the Ikea mattress made sense. Now yes.

Q: You say that Warheads changes your life completely.

A: "Yes. It was the moment when I felt that I could take the world outside me and put my will on it. In England, theater is very important for culture and Olivier is a literary prize for a very cultured person. For me, as a person who felt with an uneducated complex for not having gone to school, for always having spelling mistakes and for having a way of writing that no one understood, it was like an 'ah, I don't have to be intelligent in the conventional way to be able to aspire to have a prize'. Suddenly, everyone around me took me seriously. A door was opened that led to another staircase that led to another floor. I saw very new things and I was able to enter rooms that I had not entered before."

Q: If that changes your life, what does One Piece do with it?

A: "Warheads gave me a car. I was walking through life, and suddenly I had a car. One Piece took the car, threw it through a ravine and gave me an interspatial rocket with which I travel between planets. I talk all day with my best friend Vincent about how absurd it is and the number of opportunities and beautiful things we can do now. We are not taking it as if it were normal. We look into each other's eyes and say 'I can't believe this is happening'. And that's happening every day."

"But the One Piece thing was very fast. When One Piece announced the characters, that night I was at the theater in London doing a play, and when I entered the dressing room during the break, I saw my cell phone doing 'backflips' (it makes a gesture of an uncontrollable spiral with my index finger). I was followed by 1,000 people per minute. The transition from the car to the rocket was very fast, from one day to the next he had 200,000 followers. Although followers are not a way to govern your life, there I could see the difference so instantaneous. When the promos came out, people began to recognize us more, but in the Canary Islands they still asked me if I was still making boards. He was completely alien. But when the series came out, we already had the rocket mounted and they pressed the button. When I returned to Tenerife, the fruit shop asked me for photos."

Taz plays Sanji, the cook of the crew of the pirate ship on which the One Piece manga is based, which is something like a 'Japanese-a-ye' comic. Netflix has made an adaptation of the illustrated work to a Live Action, a series with real actors. His character is one of the best known, most beloved, most charismatic. In the previous video, Taz puts a black belt on the character he plays. His character fights with kicks, so he had to learn martial arts in record time.

Q: You added the taekwondo to your list of things to learn

A: "I feel many times that I do everything in a mediocre way, but I don't do anything very well. There's something very nice about that. I took the taekwondo as an example for this. Because when you get your greatest growth is from white to black belt, but once you are in black, the improvements become very difficult, as if very perfect. That is, I go from 0 to 10 from white to black, but the 11th, which is perfection, I am not so interested, only in some aspects. I don't think you can have an 11 in everything, maybe in your life you can only have an 11, or two at most. But not everything can be an 11. I have a lot of fives, a couple of eights, a few ten, and I still don't have an 11, but that's what I'm in."

If we attribute each copy sold (more than 500 million) to one person, the readers of One Piece would considerably exceed the population of the United States and would be more than 10 times that of Spain. In the face of this mass phenomenon...

Q: Are you afraid that Taz will become Sanji? That the character stars with you?

A: "Yes, it is not a fear as such, but it is something that all of us (the rest of the actors of the series) have in mind and to which we are all vulnerable. But look, if that happens, not so bad, because we won't be able to complain about a life like that, it's still a beautiful life. In my case, since I have never fallen into what people thought was going to fall, I have a feeling that it is not a real problem for me. I may be wrong, but between the first and second seasons of One Piece I have made a series and two movies that have nothing to do with the character of Sanji. I have four series in production that have nothing to do with the world of One Piece. I don't say it in an arrogant way, but confident of myself or aspiring to be sure of myself."

Q: The Live Action of other series have not been as successful as yours. Why One Piece, yes?

A: "Two reasons based on my analysis. Matt Owens, the showrunner and lead screenwriter, is a true fan of the anime, he wants the anime with all his heart and the anime knows it better than most fans."

Taking care of the smallest detail, the producers of Live Action contacted One Piece content creators to ask them about the production and script of the series. One of them was Artur - The Library of Ohara, who helped in "the process of writing the script, mainly for the story, the 'Easter Eggs' and the timeline." He appears several times in the podcast 'Radio Pirata', where he demonstrates his knowledge and, ultimately, why he received a call from Netflix.

Taz continues explaining the first reason: "Matt, while making the series, put his artistic opinion on it, and at the same time kept everything he loved about intellectual property. That's not something that everyone can do. It wouldn't have been the same series without Matt, he knew deeply what he wanted from each character and who was going to play it. He took great care of us and gave us the tools to bring from the characters what we wanted. I went one day and I told him 'Matt, I want to do all the fights, I don't want to be bent'. I tell him like a 25-year-old boy who has never gone to school, who has not studied theater or done action dubbing in his fucking life. He took and looked at me with all the confidence in the world and said: 'Okay, let's do it.'"

Q: And the second reason?

A: "The cast of actors, the set of what we five are, is the other reason. I'm sorry because we're all very different, but since only one of us is missing, it's not the same in interviews, organizing anything, recording... The fact that we are different makes us complement each other perfectly. There is something very special that happened with the symbiosis of the five of us, we are really friends, which is not something as common as you would expect in this world. We are really friends and we take great care of ourselves both inside and outside the series."

Two weeks after the premiere, Netflix announced that a second season of One Piece's Live Action would be filmed. There are many important characters left to appear, protagonist characters who will be incorporated into the second season.

Q: Is that good relationship and connection between actors a requirement to be part of the cast in the second season?

R: "It's a good question. Yes, I know that's part of the conversations, but we don't decide or think about who it will be. We hear the conversations and talk inside them (Taz laughs, he seems to remember something). And in those conversations we see that it is very important that the people who join form a good part of the family, but that is as much work of the actor who comes new as ours. It is a basic decency to give a good welcome to people who arrive new."

Q: Have you felt pressure when adapting One Piece?

A: "From the moment we started, from the first moment, everyone reminded us of Death Note. People close to us tell you a little jokingly and don't realize the severity of what they are putting in your head. They are telling you, in a casual way, that there is a possibility that these three years of your life in which you have bled to dead for something, are absolutely worthless. We had to manage that at all times within ourselves, going to work firmly believing in what we were doing and in the people with whom we were doing it. Three years militants. The time comes when you can't do any more work and what you've done is what's left, and you can only wait until what you did with others is enough so that they don't cut your head (laughs). But I want to clarify that the fans are very enthusiastic and most of us supported us from the first moment."

The creative process and convincing a mother

There's something curious about Taz and it's the number of times he laughs per minute. Smile when we bring ut more serious topics. He smiles when he almost misses something about the new actors. He smiles as he recalls anecdotes with the fans. But it changes to a serious face when we talk about the actor's creative process. In the premiere of the movie Gassed Up, he said that he only wanted to be part of projects that his mother could enjoy.

Q: I think it's the most ambitious goal anyone can have, always to convince a mother!

A: (Laughs) "I think I meant something a little more different, but what you say is true. I wanted to say that, since I do not come from this world (that of interpretation) I see it as my secret weapon because it gives me a real perspective on what we do in art. Sometimes we do a cult of certain things that I think is important and productive, but it can be elitist. Although I can appreciate and understand some more complex or cultured things, my mother doesn't have to appreciate them."

Q: In an interview you told the journalist that, if I had met you as a child, I would never have imagined that you would end up this way. And you, would you have imagined yourself like that?

A: "Yes. It's a good question, bro. And yes. So much so that I was alone, and I had no friends, I stayed all day on the internet, reading and watching videos. My life was a fantasy and it said 'it would be beautiful to do what I saw in an action movie'. I remember watching skydiving or surfing in movies and telling my mother 'that would be beautiful to do'. But I was never going to do it. I had fantasies of doing things that I was afraid of at the same time. But when you think about doing something, there's always a part of you that thinks it's not going to happen."

Q: The fear of taking a risk

A: "Yes. No one gets into this industry without aspirations to make a living from this. To have a beautiful life, to take care of your family... But there is a large part of you that has in mind that it is quite likely that you will not get it. If you asked me when I was little that I was going to be older, I wouldn't have told you that I would, I would have told you that I hope something handsome."

Q: What if I ask you now?

A: I hope to be something better than I am now.

#taz skylar

[33max]

prompt: maxiel meet cute? maybe they meet at a coffee shop or on a long layover for a flight

can I interest you in a halloween meet cute? 🎃

single dad daniel, 636 words, cw tiny blood mention

Max didn’t tell any of his colleagues the reason he had specifically requested the night of the 31st October off. He’s a little bit embarrassed to tell people, but well… this is Max’s first proper Halloween. He had never been allowed to celebrate as a kid, and then while he was at med school he didn’t live anywhere where they might get any trick or treaters.

This year, though, he’s got his own house and he has booked the night off. He’s carved a pumpkin, he’s got a mountain of candy, he’s decorated his door so people know they can knock, and he’s even put on a white shirt with a little ghost on the pocket.

He’s overwhelmed with trick or treaters! There are so many, little girls and boys dressed in the most adorable costumes screaming “trick or treat!” at him in delight! He gave one girl a whole handful of candy, she had been dressed as a pumpkin and was hiding behind her big sister – so adorable Max had wanted to give her the whole bag.

He’s just said goodbye to a group of kids and sat down on his sofa when he hears another knock, but it’s quickly followed by a thud and a little whimper. Oh no.

Max rushes to the door, and when he opens it there is a little shark on his doorstep. It’s a very cute costume, the child’s head peeking out of the sharks mouth. Unfortunately, there’s a little bit of blood on one of the sharks teeth from where this kid has bumped his head on Max’s front door. He’s bleeding a little bit, his bottom lip wobbling as though he’s about to let out a cry.

“Oh no! Buddy, are you okay?” Max asks the shark, kneeling down so he can get a proper look at him. He starts to look around for a parent, and sees a guy dressed as a surfer walking towards them, clearly following behind his kid. He’s wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and is carrying a boogie board. They must have come here after visiting next door. He looks up and picks up the pace when he hears a small wail!

“I fell!” The little shark tells Max, as the kid’s parent catches up.

“Ollie!” The guy dressed as a surfer says, dropping his boogie board, voice alarmed “What happened?”

The little shark is being scooped up into the surfers arms, so his Dad can inspect the wound that’s still bleeding a little bit onto the teeth of his costume.

“I fell!” The shark, Ollie, says again “I banged my head!”

The dad looks worried, and Max decides now is a good time to speak up. He’s more than capable of taking care of a bump on the head.

“Hi, I heard him fall against the door,” Max explains, “Let me take a look at him? I’m a paediatrician, I work in the emergency room, I’ll just clean him up…”

Ollie’s dad looks grateful. Max notices that he has a fake shark bite on his stomach where his shirt is open. That’s cute.

“Thanks, man,” The guy says, rubbing Ollie’s back through his shark costume. He’s still crying, but Max thinks it’s more from shock than anything else.

He cleans Ollie up with his first aid kit, makes sure he has plenty of candy for being so brave, and then smiles up at Ollie’s dad.

“We owe you,” The guy says, “We live down the next street, we’ll bring you some cookies as a thank you - won’t we Ollie?”

Ollie nods, back up in his fathers arms, and Max hopes this bump on the head hasn’t ruined Ollie’s Halloween.

“I’m Daniel, by the way…”

Max smiles, “I’m Max…”

“And I’m a shark!” Ollie screams before chomping on his dads shoulder.

#answered #anonymous #writing

[dramamines]

Here's a... comprehensive list of albums I love

(and think ppl should listen to)

Teens of Denial by Car Seat Headrest

Twin Fantasy by Car Seat Headrest

How to Leave Town by CSH

Making a door less open by CSH

Is this it? by The Strokes

Doolittle by Pixies

Surfer Rosa by Pixies

Come on Pilgrim by Pixies

Perfect from now on by Built to Spill

White blood cells by The white stripes

Gagagagaga by Spoon

Gimme Fiction by Spoon

Lucifer on the Sofa by Spoon

Live through this by Hole

Chutes too narrow by The shins

In the aeroplane over the sea by Neutral milk hotel

Apologies to the queen mary by Wolf parade

Youth and young manhood by Kings of Leon

There are likely many more that I love that I've forgotten about, I might make a pt2 of this if anyone wants/ i think of more

#ballena rambles #csh #music #car seat headrest #spoon #the white stripes #the strokes #pixies #the shins #spotify #neutral milk hotel #wolf parade #built to spill #kings of leon #hole #music recs

[himebushou]

Okay, so there's been a bit of commentary on this moment from Episode 11, where Rei says that Kazuki (the sofa surfer) can continue living in the apartment:

But, as Episode 2 tells us, this apartment literally isn't Rei's to give away.

When Miri makes a racket after being locked in, Rei worries that he's going to be evicted:

So Rei's offer to Kazuki was actually: "Hey, I'm moving out, but please feel free to continue living in this rented apartment that my Boss is paying for."

It's no wonder that Kazuki nope'd out of there!

#buddy daddies #suwa rei #kurusu kazuki