#surfer boy stoner voice they do

[whim-prone-pirate]

let them say fuck

[munson-blurbs]

For 2k celebration.

Argyle, Pizza Van, tiny baby fluffy kitten. Like I cannot express how fluffy this baby kitten should be. Maybe Jonathan is along for the adventure??? Go wild!

I hope you enjoy this, bb! 💚 shoutout to @loveshotzz for inspiring me to make this smutty.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving)

WC: 1.7k

--

After a long shift at Surfer Boy Pizza, Argyle is exhausted. He’d usually drive straight back to his place and blaze up a joint, but he has something much more important to do tonight. 

He goes to the Byers house, knocking on the door three times before Jonathan opens it, grinning and holding a fuzzy orange cat in his arms. “Did someone order a kitten to impress their girlfriend?”

“Shut up, man,” Argyle mutters, taking the kitten from his friend. “You know she’s not my girlfriend.”

“But you want her to be,” Jonathan goads, waggling his eyebrows, leaning over to grab the cat carrier. 

“I said shut up!”

Jonathan chuckles. “Dude, you are so in love with her!” He laughs even harder when he sees a blush creep into his friend’s cheeks. “You gotta tell her, bro. Ask her out, kiss her, I don’t know, but you gotta do something besides follow her around like a lost puppy. Or kitten, in this case.”

The long-haired stoner rests his head in his free hand. “Yeah, man, I know. What if she wigs out or somethin’? We’ve been best friends for, like, our whole lives, dude. I can’t just fuckin’ throw that away because of a crush.”

Sensing Argyle’s vulnerability, Jonathan’s expression becomes more serious. “That’s not gonna happen, all right? It’s obvious that she feels the same way; everyone already thinks you’re dating. You just needa go for it. Now,” he places the carrier in front of Argyle, “go deliver a cat to your future wife.”

~

After bringing the litter box, cat food, and toys out from the Byers’ house and loading them into his van, Argyle buckles the carrier into the back seat. “Okay, little dudette,” he says as he pulls out of the parking lot, “hold on to your little cat butt, because we gotta move fast if we wanna make it on time for it to still be her birthday.” He’s doing 50 in a 30, hoping there are no cops around. “I mean, she’s not gonna be mad if we’re late, but it’s the principle of the matter, you know? ‘Course you don’t; you’re a cat. I’m so nervous, I’m having a conversation with a cat.”

He lets out a soft chuckle as he merges onto the parkway. “Anyway, you’re gonna love her. She’s, like, the sweetest person ever, y’know? And super hot, but that’s besides the point.” He drums on the steering wheel and continues. “And Byers keeps telling me to make a move, but what if it ruins everything? It’s like, yeah, we could live happily ever after or whatever, or she could laugh in my face. Or,” he adds, anxiety rising, “we could get together and fall in love, and then break up. And that would really suck.” 

Your exit comes up quickly, and Argyle swerves onto the ramp, still chatting to the kitten in his backseat. “We’re almost there, gatita.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as he parks in front of your apartment building. “Okay, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna tell her that I wanna take her on a date.” 

Bringing the carrier and the bags to the front door, Argyle rings the bell, fingers trembling.

“Hello?” your voice trills over the speaker.

“Hey, birthday girl,” he drawls. “Can you come down? Got a surprise for you.”

He can practically hear you smile at the sound of his voice. “Args! Of course, just gimme a second.” A few moments later, the door swings open and you’re there, standing in front of him. You’re in your pajamas, but he swears you’ve never looked so beautiful.

“So, what did you get me?” you question, already walking towards the van. As soon as you slide open the front, the kitten pads to the front of the carrier and meows excitedly. “Oh my God, is that…” Your eyes widen and tears blur your vision. “Did you get me a kitten?”

Argyle nods, a grin stretching across his face. “Yeah, you kept talkin’ about how much you wanted one, and my mom’s friend’s cat had babies…figured it was the perfect match.” He watches, lovestruck, as you carefully open the carrier and scoop up the tiny, fuzzy tabby cat.

“She’s so soft,” you muse, pressing small kisses to her head. “Does she have a name?”

“Not yet,” he replies, reaching out to pet underneath the kitten’s chin. “Got any ideas?”

You ponder for a second, taking in the cat’s light coloring and the man who gifted her to you. “How about Pineapple?” you suggest with a giggle. “So she’ll always remind me of my favorite person in the world and his favorite pizza topping.” 

“I’m your favorite person?” he asks incredulously, putting the remaining bags on the floor and shoving his hands in his pockets. He ducks his head, long raven hair falling over his deep brown eyes. “That’s really fuckin’ cool, man, because you’re my favorite person, too.” He forces himself to meet your gaze. “Fuck it, I’m doing this,” he says, though you’re unsure if he’s talking to himself or to you.

“Listen, you’re more than my favorite person. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like…I think about you all the time.”

“Argyle,” you start, but he keeps going.

“And we’ve been best friends since, like, what? Sixth grade or whatever? You’ve always been the one who took me seriously, always looked out for me. Never called me stupid or–”

“Argyle.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up our friendship, but I can’t keep acting like I’m not in love with you–”

“Argyle!” You finally break through his thoughts, grabbing his large hand in your own smaller one, the one that isn’t cradling Pineapple. “Argyle, when you told me that you got me the gift I always wanted, do you know what I thought it was?”

Argyle just shakes his head. 

You take a step towards him, dropping his hand and cupping his cheek. “This.” You press on your tiptoes and kiss him softly and gently, allowing him to register what’s happening and part your lips with his tongue. When you part, the two of you are wearing matching blissed-out smiles. 

“Holy shit,” Argyle murmurs, leaning down for another kiss. “Wanted to do that for so fuckin’ long, and it was better than I imagined.” His gaze drops to the kitten nuzzled into your shoulder. “Pineapple clearly is not entertained.” 

As if responding, she lets out a content purr. You place her back in the carrier resting on the front seat. “Y’know, a kiss wasn’t the only present I was hoping for.” You bring your fingers to the waistband of his pants, running them along the elastic. “Only if you want to, though.”

“Oh, I want to.” If that isn’t the understatement of the century.

You kiss him again, harder and hungrier than before. He lifts you with ease, arms strong from years of kneading dough, and you wrap your legs around his waist. One of his hands supports your ass, while the other is on the back of your neck, holding you impossibly close.

“Inside?” he manages, glancing in the direction of your building.

You sigh in frustration. “Stupid roommate is home.” Biting your lower lip, you try to think quickly. “There’s always the back of your van.”

Argyle laughs. “Princesa,” he tells you, and your heart soars at the nickname, “I am not having our first time together happen in my van.”

“But it’s my birthday!” you pout, making him smile wider. “Pleeeeeease?”

It’s your begging that gets him. He flings open the back door, lowering you tenderly before climbing on top of you and closing the door behind him. “Whatever my birthday girl wants.”

You feel his hand on your wrist, sliding a hair tie off of it and tying back his own mane. “Now, Princesa,” he begins, alternating between speaking and sucking on your neck, “I wanna stay true to my word and sleep with you for the first time somewhere special.”

“But–”

“But, I am not opposed to making you feel good, since it is your birthday and everything.” The van is dark, but you can tell that he’s grinning mischievously as he tugs on your pajama pants, pressing his hard length into your thigh.

“Are you sure?” But he’s already pulling down your panties, which are wet with pleasure. 

Argyle trails kisses down your torso, sending shivers through your body. His middle finger finds your clit easily. “That feel okay?”

“M-More than okay,” you stammer, still in shock that your best friend is about to eat you out.

“Good.” He flattens his tongue against your folds, teasing you for a moment before bringing his lips to your sensitive bundle and sucking lightly. “Put those legs on my shoulders, baby doll,” he instructs you. “That’s my girl.” 

His tongue laps at your pussy, leaving you moaning and gripping the van’s carpet. “Argyle, fuck, right there.” Your voice catches and you feel your eyes well up as he devours you. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as you let out a pornographic wail. 

The coil in your belly is dangerously close to snapping, and you buck up your hips involuntarily. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed. 

But Argyle remains pressed to your core, unfazed. “Nothin’ to be sorry for,” he reassures you, adjusting his ponytail. “Take everything you need. Tonight is for you.” With that, he brings his mouth back to your clit and pumps his thick middle finger in and out of your cunt. That’s the final straw, and you cry out his name as you cum. 

“You taste so perfect,” Argyle says, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. 

You lower your legs and push yourself onto your elbows. “You’re too good at that,” you manage, still catching your breath. “When can we have sex?”

Argyle chuckles. “I wanted to take you out to dinner first!”

“I have a frozen lasagna we can split, and Pineapple can have some kibble.”

“That’ll work.”

--

[klausinamarink]

Thinking of an AU where after Starcourt and Billy’s death, it’s the Mayfields who leave Hawkins for California while the Byers stay. With her family fractured, Susan Mayfield decides to take the opportunity to return back home if not slightly pushed by the men in suits who gave her and Max special forms to sign. They won’t go back to their old residence in San Deigo but Lenora should be a better start.

But Lenora turns out to be worse for Max. She’s too angry and scared to make any new friends - friends who wouldn’t understand the horrors of the Upside Down with its cat-eating demodogs and giant fleshy Mind Flayer. The closest person she might consider a friend is one of the stoner dudes at Surfer Boy’s Pizza who always gives her free slices of pineapple pizza whenever she comes in.

Usually her behaviour works in pushing her peers, but instead it attracts the annoying popular girl Angela’s attention and makes Max her favourite “friend”. Their fights are often verbal but sometimes Angela’s words strike better than Max’s. She doesn’t tell her mom, who’s been working long hard hours at her new job, or her friends back at Hawkins whenever she writes back to their letters. Even when calls with Lucas bring her close to tears, she keeps her voice even and lies through her teeth about how she loves her new home and classmates.

This predictably comes to a head when Lucas and El tag together to visit Max for the spring break. El quickly realizes Max’s lies and confronts her at the skating rink, telling her that if Lucas finds out, he’ll be devastated too. Max tries to brush this off, pretending to have a normal, Angela-less day with her boyfriend and best friend.

Well, we all know what happens at the rink.

This time, El (albeit more accidentally) trips Angela and her goons before they do anything worse. This time, Max had enough of Angela’s bullshit and beats her face with her skate, yelling at her that if she dares to pick on her again, she’s fucking dead. This time, Lucas is horrified by what just happened and heartbroken that Max’s been having a difficult time without telling him.

They don’t really have the time to talk about it before the cops come the next morning to arrest Max for assault. But El steps forward and, to protect Max, says she’s the one who did it, much to Max and Lucas’ chagrin. So El gets taken to jail, Max and Lucas get Susan to help El bail out, survive a sudden shootout in the house, they get Argyle, and then the Nevada road trip takes off from there.

Throughout this, Susan gets told about the Upside Down and the truth of Billy’s death. She also starts having a more heart to heart with Max, apologizing about being so distant and seeing herself as the start of this mess they’re in. But Max tells her not to blame herself and that Susan’s only been doing what’s the best for both of them. Max also apologizes to Lucas for lying and sweet Lucas forgives her, but says that he’s always still here so Max shouldn’t have hid away from him. There’s a lot more talks on the road, some ending with tearful smiles and a new hope for the future.

Meanwhile in Hawkins, Vecna might’ve missed Max as a potential victim but he finds someone better…

[that-thing-that-feeling]

The Jonathan accent is genuinely so interesting to me because it’s pretty different from Charlie’s “default” USA accent that he likes to switch into (which is similar to his voice in AYA…almost like a valley boy or stoner with the vocal fry, the throaty sound, not nasally but whiny sort of and a little bit like a surfer too?) I think of that MTV interview when he was talking about his first halloween in the States and his accent when he said “house hopping” or that radio interview about ST season 1 where he just went American midway through and how valley boy he sounded. Of course ST is set Midwest so it makes sense that it’s a completely different voice but even then Charlie didn’t lean heavy into the Midwesterner accent so I’m super curious genuinely about how Jonathan “found his voice.” Would love a documentary JUST about the guy’s accents. He’s a Brit but has a flawless American accent, great off the wall Irish accent (that insane German interview), and also lowers his voice about ten octaves when speaking Spanish but has an incredibly high pitch when speaking in his natural Northern accent, which most people think of as a deeper accent.

That’s true, I think, his Jonathan is quite different! It’s just very ~Jonathan~ I can’t explain it. And that seems accurate his voice def changes high/low with accent, but sometimes within his British accents it changes, too. That random Irish interview accent was so funny; why did he do that lol

[where-is-francis]

𝙏𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 —♡-> 𝘼𝙧𝙜𝙮𝙡𝙚

Before You Interact — Rules Of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Part of my Valentine’s Day 2023 blurb series

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: They/Them

𝘼/𝙉: Yes, this is late. However, I’m just glad it’s done. Hopefully it’s not TOO bad — the burnout is real. That’s my fault though, I just wanted to write for everybody for the holiday.

𝙏𝙒: References to weed (it’s Argyle man), Argyle saying “man” and “dude” but more as a term of endearment, ending could be read as referencing to smut but it’s not explicitly mentioned, I think that’s it.

It was currently February 14th and your one and only, your love, your 𝘼𝙧𝙜𝙮𝙡𝙚 was working until close. Johnathan, your best friend in the world, was currently keeping you company on the phone, though you were a bit surprised El wasn’t hogging the line to call Mike. Either way, you were glad.

“I know. But you know how he gets when they just, like, ask him out of nowhere.” Rustling could be heard from the other side of the line behind your friend’s dazed voice. “Especially Tracy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him scared of somebody like he is of her.”

“You’re right. I think we should kill her.” You stated flatly.

Johnathan laughed. “Yeah, you have fun with that. I gotta go — let me know when you think of a plan.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell Nancy I said hi.”

“Will do. Later.”

And with that, you were alone again. Excluding the tv that droned in the next room, the house was barren and silent. It was strange how it didn’t feel like home without your boyfriend. The room severely lacked in his laughter, paired with the absence of a slight fog. A dark green couch groaned as you draped your form across it as dramatically as possible.

If he were with you right now, Argyle would likely be sat on the floor, concentrated as hell, sketching something out for you in a dazed state. It occurred to you how he’d be squinting his eyes ever so slightly at the piece, like he always did, before flashing you a giant grin. The piece would have some weed-related pun or joke, no doubt. However, that just made you miss his presence even more.

So you begrudgingly decided it would be best to nap until his shift ended. You blindly grabbed at the nearest throw blanket and settled down for a bit with the idle chatter and noise of the tv lulling you to sleep.

Meanwhile, Argyle was using everything he had to create his masterpiece — masterpizza? — at the shop where he was supposed to be on break. But with Surfer Boy having their annual run of heart shaped pizza, it caused for a lot of traffic. Which meant a lot of work. However, the one he focused on was more special — it was a surprise for you.

The small kitchen was overrun with a plethora of other teens and twenty-somethings, all laughing and teasing each other about anything and everything. Couples and groups all on cheesy (no pun intended) dates littered the dining area and happily shared their festive ‘za before the sunset. Argyle gently lowered the last red topping onto the heart shaped pie before he inspected it with the determination of a brain surgeon.

“How’s it lookin’ so far?” His coworker mused.

The raven haired male didn’t even register the voice as he lowered the pizza into the oven with the utmost precision. Once settled inside, his focus shifted to the see-through part of the industrial oven. His coworker had never seen the fellow stoner so invested in a creation before — which prompted them to duck down beside him and stare inside the machine.

“So, why exactly are we watching the pizza?”

Their whisper snapped Argyle out of his trance a bit to respond, however his eyes didn’t leave the food. “It’s Valentine’s Day and I wanted to make something special for them. Everything about this has to be perfect.”

“I mean, yeah, but you don’t have to watch it cook—”

Argyle stood and fixed his posture before placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders. He shook his head vigorously and sighed. “You don’t get it, man, you don’t get it!”

“I mean, I know they’ll like anything you make them. Plus, it’s a surprise, right?”

It was somewhat amusing to see how much your boyfriend cared, but this was a tad much. Argyle slung his arm over Leo’s shoulders and directed their attention back to the oven.

“(Y/N) is very very specific about their pizza, bro. You don’t get it. If that cheese is not the perfect amount of golden brown and crispy on the outside with a gooey inside — the entire plan is ruined! My, like, entire relationship depends on this pizza, man!” His raised voice attracted attention of coworkers and customers alike.

The shorter employee gave a confused grin but nodded, slightly adjusting the pull of their festively colored uniform tee. Argyle nervously twirled the pizza paddle between his hands like a weapon that would soon be used to slay a great beast. He was clearly agitated.

“Look, man, I know them — they’re going to be so stoked that you did this just for them. Plus, if you want to leave early, I’ll definitely cover for you.”

He didn’t have to think twice about the offer. Leo grinned and readjusted their visor a bit before heading back to the register. It felt like everything in the brown eyed male’s body had been liquefied before being brought to a boil. It bubbled up inside and worked through his system like part of his bloodstream; all he wanted was to make it up to you. Time inched on slowly as your pizza cooked underneath the tacky decorations in the kitchen.

In the van, he had previously prepared a single rose for you out of a few rolling papers while going over the presentation in depth. Argyle wanted it to be grand — as grand as a pizza delivery could be — but still sweet so you got the message. You’d become accustomed to the sweet and quick compliments he would give at any moment, but it didn’t go far beyond that. And he spent many days quietly berating himself for not being able to get something a tad more meaningful past his lips.

As soon as the pizza was done, Argyle was speeding off towards your house. Instead of his usual music, he opted for one of the many mixtapes you had left for him — though his focus was on his own words rather than the lyrics that filtered through the speakers. He rehearsed the entire thing a multitude of times in the empty van, occasionally making adjustments here and there as necessary.

He nervously drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel as he approached your house. Outside the windshield and reflected in the mirrors the sun was in the final stages of setting; a dark purple that seamlessly faded to a navy blue covered the evening sky for miles on end. Palm trees that were strewn about the small California neighborhood danced lightly in the breeze.

Your house was very much his home — lawn perfectly kept with large plastic flamingos in the patches of flowers, the occasional garden gnome, and wildly printed chairs in the front yard. Argyle pulled up to the driveway just behind your car and made his way to the front porch to ring the doorbell. The warm glow of the living room lights that flooded through the window were ever so kind to light up his features as he waited for you.

Inside the house you forced yourself to roll off the couch and into the direction of the front door, assuming it was Johnathan. At the opening of the door you were instead greeted by a wide grin and long dark hair.

“Argyle? Aren’t you supposed to be closing tonight? What are you doing here, man?”

The sight of you was enough to send his composure into crumbling pieces. Your hair was a bit messy from the nap, coupled with a plain tee shirt and shorts. A colorful throw blanket that always resided on the couch was now draped over your shoulders as you gave him a confused smile.

“I, uh — well, I wanted to make it up to you.” He was back to being as awkward as he was when you first met.

You were given the large pizza box in exchange. God, he was adorable as ever. His usual pale yellow work shirt had been ditched in favor of a black tee with a tuxedo print on the front and his usual long sleeve underneath. The Surfer Boy visor, now in red, sported a few pins that you made for him back in the day. You set the pizza box down at the entry table and yanked at your boyfriend’s shirt, effectively making him stumble inside.

“You’re an absolute dork, you know that?”

“I just wanted to do something special.” He laughed nervously.

You leaned (up/down) to quickly press a kiss into his lips, then tugged on the top of the pizza box. Carefully written on the underside of the cardboard lid was a paragraph and a half of everything Argyle had wanted to say since he first met you. He stood completely still at your side and watched as you read over the lid.

Words about how sweet you were that soon led into a bit about his favorite details of you. If there would’ve been time and room, he could name every single physical feature of yours and think of a million and one reasons why he loved them.

‘You were my first friend back in the day. And I wake up just completely astounded that I get to be with you.’

Had it been more natural to you, you would’ve been crying at that point. But your body settled for a wide grin instead, the muscles pulled taught, and directed it at the long haired male.

“I love you. Like, so much, man. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Your boyfriend pulled you into a hug.

After months of him not knowing what to say, it felt like a weight had finally been lifted from his chest. He was melting into your arms so carefully like he’d never done before. It happened before but not on this scale. Your boyfriend’s nerves had finally been settled the moment he rested his hands on your back, effectively caging you into a tight squeeze.

You laughed a bit into his ear as his long hair brushed the side of your face. “Alright, lovebug, let me set the pizza down.”

Argyle pulled back a bit, keeping his larger hands on your waist. “So, do you like it?”

“Like you even have to ask. Such a shame I’ll be eating it alone — I mean, with you closing and all.”

The (taller/shorter) male used a foot to nudge the front door closed and, using your confusion to his advantage, began to effortlessly hoist you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist without a second thought until you were finally settled in his arms. The action earned him a plethora of kisses until you two finally — and clumsily — found the couch in the next room. He took great care when he laid you down on the gaudy green material, only pulling back to grin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rolling paper rose.

“I got somebody to cover for me. And I’m not leaving until you have been sufficiently loved up, m’dude.”

And he meant it.

The entire night the only thing you could think about as you gazed into his dark brown eyes was just how lucky you were. Totally and utterly lucky to be in love with your best friend as he held you in his arms. Later into the night, you drifted off into a comfortable sleep with Argyle’s head on your chest.

It was perfect.

Reblogs over likes — it helps more people find my stuff. More male/enby reader content on my blog. Stranger Things requests still open, come say hi!

[demonsocialworker]

Stranger Things - Argyle F! XReader

A/N: Disappeared for a lil while.... oops. Anyway, I'm back so enjoy a fluffy story about my favorite stoner <3

(In this story you're part of the Byers family and moved to California with them after the events of season 3)

El said it had been 185 days since she'd been with Mike, that meant it had been 185 days since you got to Lenora with the rest of your family, and 185 days since you had met the man of your dreams, Argyle. When Joyce ordered pizza the day you moved in you had no idea that you would open the door to the most attractive man you'd ever seen. His hair was longer than yours, you had never seen clothes like his before, he smelled like weed and body spray, and his voice made you forget what you were going to say to him.

"That'll be $6.75."

"OH- um what?' you said, hoping he couldn't see the blush spreading across your face. "I said that'll be $6.75 dude." he said again. You finally snapped out of your trance and handed him the eight dollars Joyce had given you to pay for the pizza. "Sorry um my mind was somewhere else, here, and keep the change." He handed you the pizza with one hand and took the money with the other, "Rad, thanks dude- oh wait, thanks dudette." Then he turned and walked off to his delivery van. You stood there and watched him, mesmerized by him again. You watched him get in the van and drive down the street, until Will walked up behind you, "Helloooooo, hey hey hey, Y/N!" You whipped around to face him, "Yeah hey what?" "Are you going to bring the pizza to the table?" he asked. "Oh yeah, sorry I was just thinking about something." Will rolled his eyes, "Yeah sure, "something"'.

In the last six months you had gotten a lot better at talking to Argyle, probably since he drove you to and from school, and because you walked beside him in the hallways, and because he gave you rides to and from work when you got a job at Surfer Boy Pizza. Today was the last day he was giving you a ride to work before he left with his family for vacation. You were just getting out of the shower when he pulled up in the driveway, he was unusually early today. You opened your window to yell out to him, "Just come inside! I'm nowhere near ready yet!" He nodded and turned off the van, so you shut your window and went back to getting ready. You could hear the front door open, and then Argyles footsteps coming down the hall. You started panicking, you were still in a towel, and he walks fast so you knew he'd be at your door soon. You started rushing and tried to throw on your clothes as fast as you could, you had on your pants and were about to get your work shirt on when the door started to open. "Hey dudette how long are you gonna take? I need to talk to you about somethi-" his eyes dropped to where you were barely holding your shirt up to cover yourself. "Oh I- um sorry bro I-" he tried to get an apology out but kept tripping over his own words. You decided to interrupt him, so he'd stop stuttering, "No it's okay, I told you to come in, I'll just go in my bathroom real quick." You kept your shirt over your chest while you walked into the bathroom, you could feel Argyle still staring at you as you walked away.

You walked out of the bathroom with your work shirt on, Argyle was still standing in your doorway looking at the ground until he heard your footsteps walking towards him. "Hey dude I- uhm I'm sorry I walked in without knocking first I probably should've done that." You walked to your bed to sit down, you picked up a brush and started brushing your hair hoping doing normal things would make all the awkwardness seem casual. "No, it's fine, really. I'm the one that told you to come in like I said before." Argyle walked towards the bed and sat down beside you. You started to talk again to break the silence, "So you said you wanted to talk to me about something? You know before everything got, well awkward." You put a laugh at the end of the sentence to try to ease Argyle, you could tell he was still nervous after walking in on you. "Yeah, I uh, I wanted to tell you something kinda important. Thats why I got here earlier than I normally do." He stared at the floor again for a minute before he continued. "It's not really the right time but, I wanted to uh ask you out on a date. But you know I'm kinda going on vacation tomorrow, so I was uh hoping we could go out when I get back." You froze, the hairbrush only halfway down your hair. You didn't know what to say. You had wanted this for so long but now that it's happening you didn't know what to say. You started freaking out inside. Why didn't you know what to say?? "Uh hey dudette?' You finally unfroze and pulled the brush down the rest of your hair. You breathed in, "Yeah I actually love that idea." You turned to face Argyle as he turned to face you, he slowly leaned in and put his hand on the side of your face and pulled you closer. You leaned in towards him and closed your eyes, then his lips met yours and you wondered if you were dreaming. You both sat there, lips crushed together for what felt like forever, until you felt him pull away. You pulled away at the same time and opened your eyes. He was smiling at you when you opened them, and you smiled back. But the moment had to end when you turned away and caught a glimpse of your watch. "OH GOD! Its 4:15 we're gonna be late!" Argyle's eyes got wide, "Oh shit." He jumped up and grabbed your hand, soon he was pulling you down the hall. Joyce was at her desk on the phone with a customer, and Will was on the couch watching TV. When he saw Argyle holding your hand his eyes got wide and his jaw dropped, then turned into a smile. "Have fun at work!" he called out with a wink. You told him to shut up as you closed the front door behind you. Argyle sped the whole way to the pizza shop, you didn't care how fast he drove today because you were still in awe from what had happened just minutes before. He pulled into his parking space, and you opened your door to jump out. He walked around the van to your side and grabbed your hand again. You were finally going to walk into work holding your surfer boy's hand.

[hawkinsharlot]

eeeee Argyle content I wanna tell him that I think he’s the sweetest bc he’d be like “no way, you are you’re like a dream ☺️”

awww i could totally see this!! argyle being told he's sweet or cute or anything along those sorts always has me kicking my feet in the air like some love struck idiot

here's a drabble based on that :)

argyle x reader - drabble!

tw/cw; none!

summary; you're crushing on the cute stoner in at your new job

~

Even while you looked like hell, Argyle didn't seemed to mind. If anything, he seemed concerned more than anything. You had taken your lunch break on your job already, sitting out back after leaving the kitchen in a huff. Your supervisor wasn't doing the one job he was meant to be doing, supervising.

There you were. Sat on the curb and covered in marinara sauce. You weren't physically hurt, but you definitely left the building with a bruised ego. You envied people who didn't cry when they got mad. You weren't even fortunate enough to at least cry pretty.

"Hey, my dude! Taking that break-Woah, woah woah, hey, what's wrong?" Argyle closed a pizza box he had setting it down beside himself as he took a seat right on the curb next to you. As soon as you heard his voice, you begin to wipe your tears and nose, trying to look at least half way presentable, but then again, that's a bit hard to do when you're covered in pizza sauce. Argyle was settled by the time you looked over to him, concern painted his pretty face as he tilted his head in concern. Those big brown eyes always seemed to get you, making your heart race around inside your chest.

"I uh.. Had a bit of a slip up nearing my break," you explained, looking down to your shirt to point with your eyes. Argyle's followed as he nodded a bit, understanding. "Ah, man," he frowned a bit as he looked to you. Tears welled up in your eyes again as Argyle frantically tried to think of something, anything to say to comfort you.

"Hey, don't be too hard on yourself, okay?" he scooted in closer, rubbing circles on your back as you tried your best to compose yourself again. "Not everyone is super good at making pizza's at first," while his words weren't the most comforting at first, you'd give anything to distract yourself from crying even more.

You let out a soft laugh with the comment. "Yeah?" your poor voice is all stuffy. "Yeah!" Argyle echoed back in agreement. "Some people just have their thing, you know?" he perked up as he did his best to explain.

"Like how some people are just -uber smart without even trying. But then again, you gotta work your way there sometimes. All of this," he gestured to your sauce covered state, "This is apart of the process of pizza! You're getting there," he grinned. Honestly, his words weren't the most reassuring, but if there's one thing that Argyle knew how to do, it was make someone laugh.

"You think?" You sniffle a little bit, laughing as you dried your eyes

"Yeah! Of course. And to be fair, those sauce tubs are like, stupid slippery," He meant this in all seriousness but you couldn't help but laugh. He grinned a bit, he always did when he made you laugh.

"There we go," he sing songed a bit. His thumbs came up gently, wiping the tears away. "There's that smile," he grinned his stupidly cute grin right at you, only inches away from your tear stained face. You couldn't help but blush.

"God, Argyle," you shake your head a bit, grinning even more. He tilts his head again, "What?" he asked innocently. "Do I have something in my teeth?" he closed his mouth, running his teeth along his teeth as you laughed more. He was simply funny without even meaning to be funny. "No no," you shook your head, "You're just so goddamn sweet," your heart was doing front flips in your chest right now as you complimented him. When you looked back to him, he blink innocently, almost beckoning you to go on.

"You just always know what to do to make me laugh," you went on, taking off your Surfer Boy's hat and ruffling your hair a bit as a distraction. "You're just the sweetest," your face was burning at this point as Argyle grinned back, absolutely smitten it seemed.

"Well, I mean," he started, almost seeming somewhat nervous. He was rolling himself a joint after this, his nerves needed it. "How can I not wanna make you laugh with that pretty smile of yours?"

Oh. Oh wow. You could feel your face burning, you could feel your ears burning for Christ's sake. You laughed shyly, and again, you couldn't help but grin.

"That one!" Argyle nudged you playfully, "That one right there, bro," he too was his fair share of embarrassed at this point too, his tanned complexion turning a dark hue of pinkish red as his dimples appeared on his cheeks.

It was only after a few moments of laughing and awkward silence in which he finally broke the silence.

"What do you say a lunch later? Just us two... We can smoke before too, if you're into that," he asked nervously, averting his gaze as he waited for an answer.

There was that pretty smile once again.

"I'd love to, Argyle."

[sodasback]

Let Go

Reposting Let Go from my deleted accounts. Minor edits made.

JJ Maybank x Reader

Just SMUT. Real filthy smut.

Warnings: Very explicit sexual content. Cursing. All consensual. 18+

JJ got a gig cleaning pools on Figure 8 for the summer. And your family had a pool. Ergo, JJ was at your house every couple weeks cleaning your pool.

Of course, you knew JJ Maybank. He was the gorgeous bad boy Pogue every girl swooned over. And JJ Maybank knew you too. You were the Kook man-eater, currently on the arm of none other than Rafe Cameron. And sure you and Rafe had a good time together and you loved how possessive he was over you, but you both knew deep down your relationship was all about status. You were the ultimate young power couple of Figure 8.  

You and JJ, on the other hand, despised each other. …but like many have said, there’s a thin line between love and hate. And the truth was: you and JJ hated each other because you wanted what the other seemed to have.

You wanted to be free. Free of the obligation and the standards and the suffocating expectations. And JJ wanted to feel secure and cared for. Fuck, he just wanted to know where his next meal was coming from and what roof he was gonna sleep under without getting yelled at.

Right now, JJ was standing shirtless and sweaty with perfectly messy wet hair as he used the net to get crap out of the pool at your house while you were coming home from a day of waxing, tanning, manicures and pedicures.

You saw JJ and decided your day just hadn’t had enough excitement in it yet.

“Hey pool boy” You called to him with the perfect amount of flirtation and snobbery. JJ looked up at you. 

“You missed a spot.” You said, pointing to the leaves that were in the pool near you. He walked over to you with his usual cocky, Kook-hating attitude.

“Yeah, so did whoever sprayed that fake tan on you.” He retorted back, gesturing to a blotchy spot on your hip exposed by your cropped tank top.

You looked down at it, “Fuck!” you cursed, causing JJ to laugh as he scooped the leaves out of the pool.

“Shit, money can buy you everything, can’t it Y/L/N?” JJ asked casually, “Fake hair, fake tan, fake nails. Is anything about you real?” He asked looking down at your bare cleavage pushing up through your top.

“There’s only one way for you to find out.” Your was voice dripping in sex and JJ looked at you in shock, not expecting your answer as his lips parted slightly, exactly the reaction you wanted.

“...too bad I don’t date stoner surf bums though.” You shrugged.

And JJ regained the composure he lost for a second as he leaned the net against the wall and turned back to face you.

“Yeah, you prefer psychotic, spoiled coke addicts, right?” He narrowed his eyes down at you and you glared at him.

“He doesn’t do that shit anymore.” You stated definitively, referring to Rafe’s drug habit.

JJ snorted and nodded at you, “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night princess. …But I did literally just see him doing lines and drinking cocktails when I was cleaning the Cameron’s pool today.”

You felt disappointed, hurt and angry at this news. Because 1. Rafe canceled plans with you today to do “something important” for his dad and 2. You also knew Rafe wouldn’t usually drink and get high by himself, so you were pretty sure JJ was leaving part of the story out. 3. Rafe promised he wasn’t using coke anymore.

“You know he’s an asshole, right?” JJ asked, wanting you to admit you were a better person than your reputation made you out to be.

You were quiet as you internally acknowledged that JJ was right.

Without an answer from you, he sighed, “But I guess… superficial Kook princess like you will tolerate just about anything to make mommy and daddy happy with that Cameron last name.” He shrugged.

You smirked at this, “You almost sound a little jealous, Maybank.”

JJ scoffed, but you continued taking a step towards him as he held his ground. “I mean, I may not be some desperate tourist or some grungy surfer chick, but I know you think I’m hot.”

JJ broke eye contact with you and shook his head, opening his mouth to object but you took another step towards him and you could hear his breathing falter slightly as he looked back at you. So now you were ready to lie and say the thing you needed to say to get what you and JJ both desperately desired.

“And I know you wanna fuck me.” You said dangerously, taking another step so you and JJ’s bodies were almost touching, running a finger down JJ’s bare abs, making him shiver before you looked up at him, “But you’re scared. You’re scared that you wouldn’t live up to Rafe Cameron because you’re just a dirty, little Pogue from The Cut and-”

“Shut the fuck up.” JJ commanded through gritted teeth as he grabbed your hips and pushed you roughly against the wall of the pool house. You gasped and your eyes widened.

You and JJ both knew you said what you said to get to this point: You looking up at JJ with a little fear in your eyes as your heart raced and your core clenched. And JJ looking down at you like a wolf trapping his prey as he pressed your body firmly into the wall behind you with a harsh grip on your hips. He stepped in closer to you, pressing his body into your’s to keep you in place as he lifted one hand to grip your chin and smush your cheeks a little bit.

“You run that little mouth of your’s so much and no one ever puts you in your fucking place.”

You let the shock of JJ actually making this move leave as quickly as it came and you pushed back against JJ’s chest with your hands and tried to push his arm away from your face, not wanting to give in so easily. But JJ wrestled with your squirming body and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them on either side of your head. You huffed in frustration.

This caused you both to smile at each other, knowing this is what you wanted. But just in case, JJ loosened his grip on your wrists ever so slightly and looked in your eyes seriously for a second, “Hey, you want this right? Say ‘red’ if you actually wanna stop, yeah?” He asked. You looked in his eyes and nodded.

“Like how far do you want me to take this?” He checked one more time.

“Anything JJ” You told him. And he still looked unsure. “I’ll say ‘red’ if I want you to stop, promise.” And he searched your face for a second, then nodded at you sweetly before he smirked going right back “into character.”

His grip on your wrists tightened as he moved them further above your head so he could hold both of them with one hand and move his other hand to squeeze your chin and cheeks again.

“I know you’ve wanted this for a long time. I see the way you look at me. You think I don’t, but I know you open your window whenever I’m here cleaning the pool, so you can catch a glimpse of me. Or even when you’re with your douche boyfriend and see me on the street. You think I don’t see the double take you do?” He said and you tried to turn your head away from him, but he firmly turned your chin so you’d look at him again. JJ moved his grip to your jaw so you could talk.

“If you noticed all that, that means you were looking at me too. At the beach, you stare at me in my bikini. And I saw you at Boneyard parties watching me dance with my friends.” You told him.

JJ just narrowed his eyes at you, knowing he had gotten caught too. You slipped one of your wrists free and grabbed JJ’s wrist to move his hand from your jaw. But he overpowered you and pinned your arm to your side.

“So if you’ve wanted this for such a long time, why are you still fighting it? Are you this much of a fucking brat for Cameron?” JJ asked, still looking in your eyes before he moved next to your head to whisper in your ear.

You closed your eyes feeling his hot breath hit your ear as he continued, “I think it’s because, unlike me, we both know, he doesn’t give a fuck if he makes you feel good.”

JJ pressed a small kiss just below your ear and then nibbling and sucking on your earlobe causing you to let out the smallest whimper you couldn’t hold back.

“You know I’m gonna make you feel better than he ever has, but you can’t admit that, even to yourself, so you’re gonna resist me as much as you can so you can feel like you aren’t betraying him and being a shitty girlfriend for letting a pogue, none the less, be the one to make you so wet.”

JJ continued, sucking on your neck just a little and speaking again, “And you get to run the show wherever you go and even if you won’t say it, you crave for someone to take control from you and put you in your place. For once, in your god-damned spoiled princess life, you want someone to not let you be in charge.” He finished as he pressed his body against your’s before checking your expression.

You chest was heaving up and down as you breathed heavily being way more turned on having JJ Maybank pin you against a wall than you cared to admit. You glared at him with a furrow in your brow. Then you surged forward. JJ released your wrists and you grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other as your lips crashed on his. JJ’s hand immediately went to the back of your upper thigh as he hitched one of your legs onto his hip. His other hand was squeezing your torso; his thumb sneaking underneath your bra and skimming the underside of your boob in the most aggravatingly teasing way possible.

Your mouths were already open, tongues wrestling each other, teeth hitting in the process. You jumped up and wrapped your other leg around JJ’s waist as he squeezed your legging-covered thighs.

After the initial surge of adrenaline, you both slowed down a little. You tugged at the roots of JJ’s hair and he groaned a little before biting your bottom lip and pulling away from you slightly, giving your thighs a hard squeeze at the same time.

When JJ released your lower lip, you pulled away from him, “Pool house.” Was all you said before your lips started moving against each other again and JJ walked through the door of the pool house, into the guest bedroom.

He kicked the door shut behind him as he nudged your head to the side to start leaving hot, wet open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck causing you to moan as he let your legs slide down his waist so you were standing again.

His hands gripped your hips as he kept working on your neck while he walked you backwards towards the bed. He gave you no space as you fell back onto the bed and he continued to crawl over you, now taking his time to suck your neck as he propped himself up with arm near your shoulder. The other hand massaging your hip.

“Maybank, no hickeys. …Rafe.” You said. And really you said it for both your sakes, knowing if Rafe found out who you cheated on him with, it wouldn’t be good for either of you, but worse for JJ for sure.

“I really don’t give a fuck.” JJ said as he continued leaving more hickeys along your neck just to spite Rafe even more.

“Take your top off.” JJ commanded.

You rolled your eyes and took your tank top off before JJ’s hand flew to your throat holding it with only slight pressure. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”  He said calmly and almost teasingly, which only made it that much more intimidating. He knew he was really pushing your limits of being told what to do.

So after the breath hitched in your throat, you just stared at him defiantly in a stand off. JJ raised his eyebrows expecting an answer from you, but you stayed silent, rubbing your lips together firmly, contemplating your next move so JJ snaked his fingers in your hair and slowly but firmly pulled, cranking your neck to the side and eliciting a sigh full of pleasure and pain to escape your now open mouth. “Fine.” You spat out.

JJ let out a dark chuckle. “You’re such a fucking brat. But you love this don’t you?” He asked before dipping a finger in your bra cup and pulling it down so your breasts were exposed to him.

He took a moment to admire them as he squeezed one before going down and swirling his tongue around your other nipple and biting at it lightly. He looked up at you, “You like to push back because you want me to show you how much stronger I am than you. You love being dominated, huh?”

You took a deep breath as JJ put his mouth on your boob and sucked a harsh hickey there, while his hand started playing with the waist line of your leggings teasing you. “You love feeling helpless underneath me?”

He snuck his fingers underneath your leggings and your lace thong but didn’t move further yet, “Answer me.”

And with the anticipation of JJ finally touching you where you need him, the answer easily fell from your lips “Yes” you breathed out.

“Good girl” JJ praised as he ran his fingers through your folds. You let out a pained breath at finally being touched but JJ also saw the way your mouth twitched like you were going to object and then stopped.

JJ chuckled. “You don’t usually like being called a good girl. But you wanna be my good girl, don’t you?” He asked gently stroking your clit, causing you to close your eyes and open your mouth.

Then, JJ abruptly plunged a finger into you, “Don’t you?” He asked more sternly this time.

“Fuck! Yes.” You answered.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s see how much of a good girl you can be. Take off your leggings and your bra and get on your knees.” JJ said as he quickly pulled his fingers from you. And stood up from the bed.

You sat up on the bed and gaped at him as he smiled at you evilly. He knew he was really pushing your limits, but he also knew it was only turning both of you on even more.

“Seriously JJ?!” You asked getting mad about all the teasing.

When you didn’t immediately get up and follow JJ’s orders, he came over and put his hand under your chin as he pulled your lower lip down with his thumb, “Don’t make me tell you twice, sweetheart.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but grabbed his wrist as his thumb released your lip, to pull yourself up from the bed.

JJ took a step back as you stripped down to just your thong. You smiled, catching him indulging himself drinking in your naked body.

“Knees” he reminded you. And before you could even do it, JJ said, “Don’t even think about rolling your eyes.” You gathered all your strength to not be bratty back with a deep breath as you got on your knees in front of JJ.

As much as you had a love-hate relationship with the way JJ was teasing you, being in this position, on your knees in front of him, only made your panties that much more drenched. Your hands wasted no time going to his swim trunks and pulling them down releasing his cock as it slapped up against his stomach. Your mouth was practically watering.

JJ ran a hand through your hair, “Is my good girl desperate to have me in her mouth?”

“Are you gonna keep making me answer questions this whole time or are you gonna let me suck your dick?” You asked bluntly.

JJ smiled, but harshly pulled your hair eliciting a whiny “ow” from you.

“For once, you need to work for everything you get and you need to be the one not in charge Y/N. And then I’ll make you feel better than any guy ever has. But you have to be good.”

“What if I’m not?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.

JJ smiled, “Then there’s just gonna be more pain with your pleasure.” He said simply and then added, “But I’m learning you’d probably like that too. You’re dirtier than I thought. You like being a little slut, huh?”

You contemplated. Wondering if you should give in to JJ or keep resisting.

You looked up at him and nodded, “Mhmm”

He smiled down at you knowing he had won a little. He pumped his cock a few times. “You want my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes, JJ” you breathed out.

“Tell me how much you want it. Work for it.”

You gathered more strength and finally decided to fully submit to JJ’s whole power dynamic.

“JJ please, I want your cock down my throat.” You said, placing your hand below his, around his cock.

“Put your mouth on it baby.” He encouraged. And you licked your lips before running your tongue along the underside of it. JJ took a sharp inhale and gathered your hair in a ponytail as you wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue around the head. You took more of him in your mouth sucking as your hand pumped the rest.

“Fuck Y/N.” JJ groaned and threw his head back. Your head bobbed up and down on his length as saliva started to drip down your chin just a little. Each time you went down, you took a tiny bit more of him into your mouth. One hand now running your nails along his thigh.

Finally, you took all of JJ in your mouth and his cock hit the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Fuck” JJ cursed again. He let you be in control for a few moments longer before he couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth.

“Ahh you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N. You take my cock so well.” He told you as he hit the back of throat repeatedly. “Touch yourself baby. Is choking on my cock making you wet?”

You slid your fingers through your painfully throbbing cunt and opened your eyes to look up at JJ and nodded. JJ pulled out of your mouth completely letting you breathe. “You want more baby?” He asked and you nodded your head eagerly.

“I want you to cum down my throat, J” you said. JJ bit his lip and looked at you painfully, having so many places in mind where he wanted to cum. “Fuck” He cursed again as you took him back in your mouth.

“Put your hands behind your back, pretty girl.” He said and you immediately obeyed as he fucked your face. A few more thrusts and JJ was cumming down your throat and you continued bobbing your head up and down on his cock working him through it while you swallowed. JJ pulled his cock from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting the two as you caught your breath. JJ’s body was flooded with a rush of oxytocin motivating him to lift you from the ground and onto the bed.

“Fuck, so good for me baby.” He said, wiping the saliva and cum from the corner of your mouth his thumb and then peppering kisses along your jaw and neck.

You ran your hand through his hair and pulled him away from you for a second so you could kiss his mouth. JJ and you kissed sensually as he held some of his body weight off you and then he started kissing his way down to your stomach.

He left one more gentle kiss just above the waistline of your thong before he put his arms under each of your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed while he got on his knees on the ground. He sucked red marks that would surely be turning purple on your inner thighs as he ran his finger underneath the side of your thong multiple times.

“JJ stop teasing and do something already.” You whined.

JJ chuckled, “Someone’s desperate” he teased as he pulled your panties down your legs. 

“Spread your legs for me” He commanded as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs again and took a long look at your dripping cunt like he was looking at a piece of cake. “Ahh your pretty little pussy is so wet, Y/N. Who are you this wet for?”

“You, JJ.” You sighed out feeling his warm breath hit your core and dying for some physical contact.

“That’s right baby” He praised smugly before giving your clit a gentle kiss and then kitten licks that quickly turned to sucking on your clit.

You immediately threw your head back and closed your eyes at the pleasure. JJ was truly an expert at eating pussy. After giving your clit attention he moved down and fucked your cunt with his tongue causing your legs to clench around him and your hips to move. JJ untangled his arm from under your thigh, and grabbed one of your hands as he laid his forearm across your lower stomach to keep you still. You moved your other hand into his hair, tugging at it and making him moan into you. He then sunk 2 fingers into you and pumped in and out; curling them in just the right way while sucking on your clit again.

You moaned loudly as your legs began to quiver. “Fuck JJ!”

“You’re close pretty girl. Let go. Cum for me.” He told you and you let the rubber band snap and the waves of your orgasm rush over you. You tried to close your legs but JJ kept them open working you through it and lapping up every drop of your cum he could before you pushed his head away gently. JJ stood up and pulled you up to a sitting position on the side of the bed after you caught your breath.

JJ held his fingers dripping in your cum in front of your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth and sucked on his fingers, tongue swirling around them. “Such a good little whore for me.” You leaned forward, loving the way JJ talked to you and he noticed.

He pulled his fingers from you mouth and held your chin tilted up at him. “God, you’re so much kinkier than I thought. You like being called names, huh?”

You nodded and then looked away and blushed. “I like when you call me names. I don’t know why- I-”

“No. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s fucking hot. I love that you wanna be called my little cockslut. That for once you don’t need to be this perfect Kook. You can be a dirty little slut for me.” He said pecking your cheek and rubbing his thumb across your chin. 

Then, he paused for a second like he was hesitant about something but then he said, “Open your mouth for me and stick out your tongue.” He commanded as he pulled down your chin with his thumb.

You did as you were told and stuck out your tongue. JJ bent down a little and spit in your mouth. “Fucking swallow.” He ordered lowly. And you swallowed it greedily, feeling your pussy throbbing again. JJ noticed your legs rubbing together and he grew hard again at the sight of you being turned on from him spitting in your mouth.

“Fuck” JJ cursed to himself for the umpteenth time. Then, he was caught off guard as you pulled him onto the bed and crawled on top of him.

“JJ, I need you inside me.” You told him as you straddled him and pinned his wrists to the bed.

JJ looked at you amused, “Oh you think you’re gonna be on top for this?” JJ asked incredulously. 

You smiled at him. “Yup” you said, as you released one of his wrists so you could line him up with your entrance. But before you could, JJ easily flipped the two of you over and pinned your arms down.

“JJ!” You protested in frustration and tried to sit up or flip over again, but JJ just kissed you hard into the mattress. Then he sunk into you, pulling away from the kiss at the same time to hear your moan as you felt him fill you up.

“Shit y/n/n.” JJ hissed, “You’re so tight, baby.” He laced his fingers through your’s, “Ready?” He asked. You nodded your head. And JJ started to rock his hips slowly into you.

“Faster, J” You told him and he just smirked at you causing you to furrow your brow in confusion.

“Beg for it.” He stated.

“JJ” You warned sternly and you wrapped your legs around his waist to try and get leverage to flip you both over so you could control the pace but it was no use.

“Nice try. ..Tell me I’m better than Rafe and I’ll give you what you want.” He said smugly. You immediately rolled your eyes and JJ stopped completely.

“Wrong move princess. Get on your elbows and knees, ass up.” he commanded darkly as he pulled out of you. You whined at the empty feeling. “I’m not telling you again.” JJ said.

“Relax” You grumbled as you got on your elbows and knees and JJ immediately landed a hard slap to your ass.

“Ow! Fuck J!” You yelled at him. JJ spotted a scarf hanging off the headboard and grabbed it.

“Sit up on your knees. Give me your hands” He said tying your hands together with the scarf.

“Really JJ?” You asked.

“You know, I wonder how hard I need to go to fuck that attitude out of you” JJ wondered out loud as he turned to grab something else.

“Maybe if you actually fucked me hard, you could find ou-” You couldn’t finish what you were saying because JJ had stuffed your drenched lace thong in your mouth making you even more turned on and frustrated at the same time. 

JJ pushed you down onto you elbows and then propped your ass up further in the air. “There” he said satisfied landing another slap to your other ass cheek causing a muffled squeak to come from you.

“You’ve been such a bratty little slut for me. I don’t think you deserve to get fucked. But I can’t resist your tight little cunt.” JJ said sinking into you from behind. “Fuck Y/N” he groaned stretching you out again and then slamming into you hard. He continued thrusting into you and then felt your walls clench a little. “Don’t you dare cum, pretty girl.”

“Please JJ” You whined around your thong. JJ reached around and pulled your panties from you mouth. “What was that sweetheart?”

“Please JJ.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum. I’ll do anything.” You begged as he continued thrusting into you.

“Tell me I’m better than Rafe.” He spat out.

“Yes, JJ you’re better than Rafe. Fuck!”

“Are you mine or his?” He asked.

“I’m your’s JJ. I’m a filthy little slut for you. Please!” You whimpered.

“Cum all over my cock, baby.” He told you. Your orgasm hit you hard and JJ fucked you through it and then he kept going and reached a hand around to play with your clit. You whimpered from the overstimulation.

“Fuck J, stop, too much.” You whined. And tried to move his hand away. He used his other hand to pull you up by your hair so your back was flush against his chest. “Fucking take it.” He said through gritted teeth as a second orgasm built. “Cum with me one more time. Be my filthy little cockslut baby.”

You moaned loudly as JJ bit into your shoulder and you both reached your climax again. JJ thrusted slowly as you came down from your highs. He slowly pulled out of you and gently laid you both down. He pulled the comforter over you both as you turned to face him and nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as you both laid together naked and completely blissed out.

“You okay? Was that okay? Did we go too far?” JJ asked with his chin on the top of your head. You leaned back a little so he could see your face.

“That was fucking hot Maybank.”  You said and pecked his lips before snuggling back into him. He let out a relieved chuckle and pecked the top of your head.

As you laid there in JJ’s arms, you felt …free. You reached a hand around to comb through JJ’s hair at the back of his head as you rubbed your thumb back and forth his skin where your hand was on his back. And JJ felt …secure and taken care of.

It turned out that you could give each other what the other one so desperately needed.

[mymedicine]

Occam’s Razor

5.6k of surfer harry and y/n, mostly fluff, frenemies to lovers type beat

moodboard

warnings - marijuana usage, swearing, very light sexual language, lotsa teasing, harry being really sassy

notes - this started as a little blurb for @majorharry‘s 20k fic celebration and then it spiraled out of control into this very self-indulgent fantasy. I used the prompt “You’re lying. I can tell when you look at me like that.” Cass’s work inspired me to start writing harry fic in the first place, so if you enjoy this, you have her to thank! <3

more notes - fair warning y’all, I’m not a stoner by any means. i’ve been high like twice in my life and i cried both times so please forgive any inaccuracies in the smoking department. that being said, I urge you to click this link to learn about the decriminalization of cannabis in the US and how you can help correct the injustices associated with it. ok, yes I will shut up now please enjoy!

Island life was a dream come true for Y/N.

There was no sound she loved more than the crashing of waves against the shore, no smell more lovely than the salty aroma of beach air, and no sight more beautiful than the bright sunrise from her home two blocks away from the sand. She squinted at the rising sun as she rode the familiar route to the beach, surfboard clutched underneath one arm. With the other, she steered her trusty bicycle—the only form of transformation she needed on the island. All she ever needed to do was go back and forth from home to work at the surf shack on the beach and back again, with an occasional Target run in between when she was low on mangoes for her smoothies.

It was a perfect morning for an easy surf. Not too hot, not too windy. Just pale skies and a gentle summer breeze bringing peaceful energy to the tiny shack on the sand. She approached the back of the shop, clutching her board a little tighter as she rode over the uneven beach terrain. When she reached the wooden structure, she deposited her bike and board out back before waltzing inside through the back door.

“Morning, H!” Y/N yelled into the room, gripping the strap of her backpack over one shoulder.

From the main shopping area of the store, a curly head popped into the back room. “You’re late,” he replied, pushing his sunglasses through his already messy hair and perching them on the crown of his head. He sauntered into the back room, following Y/N over to their shared locker in the corner.

“C’mon Harry,” Y/N shrugged him off, “island time.”

In truth, neither of them really cared about her being a few minutes late to their agreed meeting time. The store didn’t open for hours and even then, the owner wouldn’t mind. It also didn’t hurt that said owner was none other than Harry’s mother.

“'S pretty out today,” Y/N continued, shoving her backpack into the locker they stored their stuff in during the day. “Should be plenty of nice hollows to play around in before—”

“My smoothie better not be melted,” Harry interrupted her just as she was pulling two thermoses out of the bag.

He was smirking, obviously uninterested in what she was saying and instead transfixed with the sweet drinks in her hands. Y/N rolled her eyes at him. Harry may not have been the most gracious company, but he was company at least. Island life was simple, relaxed, and perfect for Y/N, but it’d be lonely if it weren’t for him. He also consistently supplied her with decent weed and excellent board wax, which certainly didn’t hurt his case. In return, she brought him a mango smoothie every day. As underpaid and overworked coworkers, symbiosis and a shared love for the ocean kept their friendship relatively intact.

“Just for that, you’re not getting it until after dawn patrol,” she taunted, rattling the thermos above her head. She enjoyed the way his eyes followed the drink like a cat’s would a piece of yarn.

His tanned chest rose and fell as he inhaled an exasperated breath, jaw tight and eyes glinting with playful contempt. Along with his teasing expression, he wore only orange floral board shorts and the pair of sunglasses pushing back his curls. Y/N couldn’t help but notice his lack of clothing, even after months of working and surfing together nearly every day. Fuck, she thought, he just keeps getting hotter.

She couldn’t decide whether the fact that he was an actual work of art was helping her withstand his presence in her life, or if it was just simply torturing her with something she didn’t think she could have. Either way, his beauty was a constant distraction.

“Fine,” Harry taunted as Y/N put the drinks in the mini fridge beside the locker. “But just for that, I’ll out-surf your ass.”

~~~

Y/N laid with her cheek pressed down on her board, sighing as the hot sun gently warmed her wet skin. Dawn had brought plenty of excitement in the form of large, smooth waves, but by mid-morning the sea had calmed to a pleasant lull. She spread out her arms and let her fingers trail lightly in the water, finding comfort and solace in the coldness of it. Her board bobbed softly with the mellow waves, rocking her body like a mother rocking her baby. She could have fallen asleep if it weren’t for Harry’s sudden loud cursing coming from somewhere behind her.

“Y/N! Wake the fuck up!”

“I’m not asleep, asshole,” she called back, not moving from her peaceful position.

“C’mon, we’re already late. And s’ gonna rain so we have to pull in the racks.”

Y/N remembered the way the rising sun had been beating down on them all morning. She felt like she was being roasted out there in the humid air with her back exposed to the rays, not obstructed by even a single cloud. But the island weather was as volatile as it was beautiful, and the start of tropical storm season was imminent.

Y/N picked her head up and pushed her chest up on the board, observing the large, dark storm clouds in the distant horizon. I’ll be damned, she thought, he’s right. There was no way in hell she’d ever actually say that to him, though. Not with the way he was continuously taunting her from his place on his own board—“Y/N! Waaaakeeeey wakey! We have woooork!”

“Alright, Harry, shut up! I’m coming.”

Despite Harry’s incessant nagging, they both paddled to shore at a pretty lazy pace, trying to savor their last few minutes of peace in the water before having to deal with all the daily nuisances of customer service.

Anne’s shop on the beach was a hit with the locals and tourists alike. For years, she and Harry had been providing beachgoers with sunscreen and board wax and rash guards and even souvenir t-shirts and mugs, that sort of thing. Anne finally hired Y/N when they started selling bikinis two months ago and the business went through the roof. Having more customers was great, but it meant there was more work to be done.

Y/N and Harry approached the store, dragging their boards with their hair still dripping wet and feet caked with sand. There was a boy lingering outside, dressed in a tank top and board shorts that both looked half a size too big on his skinny frame. They both recognized him immediately—he was a regular at the beach but kind of a shubie, which deeply irritated Harry. Y/N wasn’t Tyler’s biggest fan either; it pissed her off a little when he’d show up bright and early before Anne, Harry or herself had even arrived to open up. But she was at least less hung up on it than Harry was.

“I got him,” Y/N told Harry. “Can you start on the racks? Don’t need you chasing away our best customer.”

Little did Y/N know, Harry disliked the guy for more reasons than just the facts that he showed up ridiculously early to the store and that he tried to dress like a surfer and hang with the locals but was too much of a pussy to go near the water.

While Y/N was tending to Tyler, Harry begrudgingly began pulling in the clothing racks stocked with t-shirts that Anne liked to keep outside in front of the shop. During last year’s rainy season, he’d have to pull the damn things inside nearly every other day. He glared through the open front door at Tyler while he interacted with Y/N, making her use the pole to reach one of the tank tops hung high up on the wall. “Interacted” was a soft way to put it, he reckoned. It could not possibly be more obvious that he was flirting with her.

It only annoyed Harry because he knew he was about eight thousand times better than Tyler on literally all levels, yet the boy still got to enjoy Y/N’s attention for as long as he wanted (he was a paying customer, after all). All while she was none the wiser. Harry loathed the way his eyes lingered on her chest, especially since today she hadn’t had time to put her coverup on before having to get the fucking tank top for him.

Y/N’s head snapped away from Tyler and his incessant talking when a loud crashing sound rang out. Harry was already looking at her from the doorway, face twisted with irritation. One of the racks was crashed into the wall beside him, leaving a few fallen shirts scattered on the floor.

“You missed the door, H.” Y/N laughed at him. She was amused by the grumbling noises he was making as he struggled to yank the rack through the door frame.

“You wanna do this yehself then? ‘F you just gonna make fun of me…” He frowned, voice getting fainter as he disappeared outside to grab the last rack.

“Sorry about him,” Y/N turned back to Tyler, who was waiting patiently for her to scan and neatly fold the top he was buying.

The boy flashed her a charming smile. “S’ fine. I’m not here for him.”

Y/N was not an idiot. She noticed his flirting, but didn’t take it remotely seriously. He was far too young for her. He was thinner than she preferred. His hair was too blonde, skin too pale and clean of any ink. And, well, he wasn’t Harry.

She kind of hated that everyone had to be compared to Harry in her mind, but she couldn’t help it. He was a masterpiece. Her gaze followed him as he sauntered back into the store, picking up fallen merchandise here and there before strolling right past her, into the back room.

Y/N sent Tyler a tightlipped smile when she realized she’d been inadvertently ignoring him. She felt his eyes on her as she finished the transaction. He took the bag from her outstretched arm, but his presence lingered even after she’d given him a polite yet dismissive “Have a nice day.”

“I’m Tyler, by the way,” he began, and Y/N internally groaned. He’d introduced himself several times already during the past few weeks. She was nicer about it than Harry, sure, but fuck she did not want to entertain this kid’s advances. “And you’re—“

“Y/N!” Harry’s voice called from behind her, interrupting Tyler rather rudely in the middle of his sentence. Harry appeared at her side as if she’d conjured him up by thinking about him. She be lying if she said she minded the interruption. “Here’s your smoothie from the back,” he said with a charming smile.

Harry produced one of the thermoses and presented it to her as if it were a prize. He knew he was the real winner though—one look at Tyler’s dejected expression confirmed that much.

“Oh! Thank you, Harry,” Y/N chirped, trying desperately to thank Harry with her eyes while still remaining diplomatic. “I was just finishing up with Tyler here.”

The blonde boy looked between Harry and Y/N, lingering for only a few more seconds with his anxious fingers twisted in the plastic bag he was holding. “Right,” he stuttered, “er…you guys have a good one…” And he backed away from the store.

Y/N turned back to Harry as their customer left. She took the thermos from his hand before playfully scolding him. “That was rude, Harry.”

"He was being rude first. He wouldn’t leave.” Harry shrugged, sipping his own smoothie and swooping back into the back room before Y/N could tease him on his poor excuse.

The Tyler ordeal aside, the work day passed as all the others did. Maybe a little less busy than usual due to the impending storm. By early evening, the tourist crowd at the beach had thinned considerably. One or two local surfers lingered in the water as the dark clouds began to roll in and slowly hide the sun. Harry and Y/N watched them absently from their places behind the counter, sitting beside each other on matching stools.

Y/N took in the view. Even painted an ominous shade of dark gray, the horizon brought a serene wave of calm over her. This was where she belonged, and she was sure of it.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Harry asked, noticing the far away look in her eyes.

“The water,” Y/N replied. It was true—she was looking at the water. But she was really looking beyond it, taking in the entire scene. The lull of the crystal blue ocean, the fading sunlight hitting the palm trees, the soft sand being pelted with raindrops, even the display case of I <3 2 SURF mugs that was mildly obstructing her view out the window. She turned to face him and, of course, he fit right in. He was an integral part of her vision, the beautiful fantasy that she was lucky enough to be living in.

He smiled at her. “’S pouring fuckin’ buckets, Y/N. There’s water everywhere.”

She laughed at his joke, happy to slip back into her real-life daydream.

“What should we do, then? No one’s gonna be coming to the beach.”

“I dunno. Play a game?” Last rainy season, Harry had been alone in the shop. Those past lonely days felt like an entirely different lifetime. In this one, Y/N was his present. His here and now.

He stood from the stool and crouched down to survey the shelves underneath the counter. Anne kept random necessities like water bottles and fruit snacks and a flashlight and…yes! A deck of Uno cards.

Y/N sighed dramatically. With Harry, she knew even a simple little game for kids would quickly spiral into momentous occasion.

“Well if I’m gonna have to play this game with you, there’s no way I’m doing it sober.” With that, Y/N didn’t hesitate to hop off her own stool and head to the back room to retrieve her backpack.

Harry raised his eyebrows, amused by the suggestion. Maybe it was irresponsible to get high when the shop was technically still open for another hour, but what the hell. The crowd had already been thinning for hours. 

“We’re gonna smoke in my dear mother’s shop?” Harry mused.

“We? Did you want one?” Her voice was teasing, growing clearer as she returned from the back room. She perched herself back in her stool and began to prepare a single joint for herself.

“Love, I literally provide you the weed. Of course I fuckin’ want one.”

“Okay, sassy. You can do it yourself if you’re gonna be a dick about it.”

So, he did. And naturally, the task turned into a heated race between the two. The pelting rain outside was an appropriate soundtrack for a race which Y/N, distracted by the way Harry’s nimble fingers packed the rolling paper and pink tongue slipped out to seal the edge, was destined to pathetically lose.

“Hah,” said Harry once he’d twisted the tip, flourishing the finished joint between them for himself to admire.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she finished her own, “Whatever, Harry. I out surfed you this morning and I’ll out smoke you tonight.”

“Well then I’ll have to beat your ass at Uno.”

“Game on.”

They played six rounds of Uno, taking hits in between turns until they were both high as kites. They lost interest in the middle of round seven when Y/N accidentally knocked the deck off of the counter, scattering the cards all over the floor. Even though they each had an even three wins under their belt, neither wanted to pick up the cards, so they agreed to a truce. The pitter-patter of rain and whooshing sound of high winds continued as Harry was muttering in a low voice—something about him dreading having to clean up all the cards tomorrow—but Y/N wasn’t really listening at all.

The high disintegrated the invisible barrier between them, effectively magnifying their usual playful touches into prolonged caresses. Y/N had one leg draped over Harry’s lap, perfectly placed for his massive hands to clutch her calf and gently massage her skin in tune with his soft ramblings. His touch sent sparks flying deep in her belly. He was everywhere, his presence so commanding she was almost disoriented by euphoria. She only fell back down to earth when she realized the comforting din she’d gotten used to had gone silent.

“Listen, H. It’s stopped raining.”

He silenced his mellow prattling and stood from the stool, making Y/N frown a little at the loss of touch. She watched him as he moved over to the window, resting his palms on the sill and peering through the glass at the beach. “Not for long. Look at the clouds.”

She followed his movements, wandering over to him and then tugging one of his arms off the sill. Craving his touch, she effortlessly wedged herself in between his body and the window—a move that would have made sober Harry a little flustered. But his fuzzy brain allowed him to relax into the feeling of her body against his. He lifted his arm to point at the second cluster of storm clouds approaching the beach from the horizon, in turn pressing his bicep to her shoulder.

“Hm,” Y/N surveyed the incoming clouds. “Maybe I should get home while it’s stopped. No one’s coming to the shop when ’s pouring out.”

“Yeh gonna ride your bike high?” Harry mused. “Don’tcha think that’s kinda unsafe?”

She didn’t think so, really. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want an excuse to hang out with Harry some more, especially now that they were standing way closer than necessary and she could once again feel his bare skin against hers. “I guess…” Y/N trailed off, distracted by the high coursing through her and the feeling of his arms around her. They were strong from years of propelling himself through the sea water, hot and tan from the hours spent in island sun.

“Fancy a dip to sober you up?”

She paused to ponder the offer, putting considerable effort into focusing on thinking rather than feeling his body. The water did look as inviting as ever now that the rain had let up—temporarily, at least.

“Okay.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Harry was moving eagerly away from her. Y/N stumbled out the door behind him, struggling to keep up while he excitedly meandered down the sand on unsteady legs. Halfway there, Y/N gave up on trying to catch up. She shed her board shorts and sandals right there on the sand, leaving her in her bikini top from earlier and matching bottoms. As she waded into the sea, part of her was regretting skipping the rash guard that morning as the salt water stung the reddening skin on her exposed stomach.

Harry was feeling a similar pain on his own bare abdomen, but he paid it no mind as he bounced through the white water. Instead he took in the twinkling sea and the early evening sunset, appreciating the way the pink clouds reflected in the water. It was so pretty, he thought, endorphins flooding his brain. Might be the prettiest fuckin’ sight I’ve ever seen…

Suddenly, Harry’s reverie was rudely interrupted by a cold blast of salt water slapping him on the back.

“What the fuck?!”

He whipped around and there she was, waist-deep with her cheeky smile and challenging eyes giving her away. Of course she was guilty, there was no one else in the goddamn lagoon five minutes before another torrential downpour. He inched toward her, impishly preparing his own counter attack. She was giggling profusely as she, too, moved backward as if she were his prey.

When she’d backed up to where it was too deep for her to stand, she squeaked and lifted her hands up in front of her face to protect herself. The water was up to her cheeks, flushed with heat, with elation, and alighted by the setting sun. Harry splashed her mercilessly, both giggling like children as her attempts to thwart his attack failed. His head was spinning, melodic laughter and splashes resonating between them. She flung her arms blindly in and out of the water as he moved closer and, foolishly, he underestimated the power of blind luck. Harry spluttered and spat as salt water landed directly in his open mouth. He swatted with his hands, whipping his soaking wet hair around before playfully glaring at her. She was squinting and rubbing the salt water out of her eyes, but she still wore that cheeky, challenging grin.

“Right, tha’s it. Yeh in for it now.” he howled at her. He reached out for her waist, intending to pick her up and throw her into the white water to wipe that stupid victorious smile off her face.

It didn’t work, but how could he be upset when he was faced with her pretty head popping up out of the white water, face lit up with pure happiness? When he was laughing along with her, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest, all with the stunning background of the most beautiful beach sunset he’d ever seen?

The sun had long set by the time they decided to call it quits. It was getting cold and, as expected, it was starting to drizzle again. They marched up the damp beach together, walking side by side with their shoes in their hands. Neither of them had bothered to bring a towel and the once pleasant island wind was now biting their wet skin. Y/N picked up her pace to warm her muscles and keep up with Harry, whose longer legs were trudging through the sand up toward the shop.

“It’s pretty late…” Harry drawled, craning his neck to observe the bright shining moon that had taken the sun’s place.

Y/N took a few seconds to reply, panting from the exertion. “Yeah.”

“And ’s raining again…”

“Mmhm.” Y/N stole a sideways glance at him. He was smiling, as per usual. And he had that playful glint in his eyes that she adored.

“…Aaaand I live just up there…” He swung his arms like a child as he walked beside her, causing one of his flip flops to repeatedly whack one of her sandals in her grasp.

Endeared, Y/N cracked a smile of her own. “Right…”

“Do you wanna maybe…”

She stopped marching then, as they reached the front of the store. She was hit with the sudden realization that part of her fantasy was becoming real. There was no work to be done at this hour, no Tyler to pull tank tops for, no interruptions. Only Harry, her favorite distraction.

Taken with his own thoughtful musing, Harry walked a few more steps before realizing Y/N had stopped. He turned around to face her, and even in the darkness she could see the flush in his cheeks.

“…spend the night at mine?”

~~~

Harry lived even closer to the beach than Y/N in an even tinier studio. Anne of course had a house a few miles into town that Harry frequented, but he was a grown man. It was more than enough to be working for his mum. As much as he adored her, he did not want to live with her.

His place very much resembled the shack they worked in from the outside. Inside he had four walls, a window, a bed in the middle, an armchair in the corner, and a hammock strung out on the porch. Y/N briefly imagined herself lounging in it, maybe sipping a mango smoothie. It would have been very pleasant if not for the fact that it was just exposed enough to be catching the rain water. A brilliant idea sparked in her brain, one she couldn’t ignore.

“I’m g’na sleep in the hammock,” she declared.

“Uh, fuck no yeh not.” Harry replied immediately, equally as firm.

“Yeah I am. It’ll be nice.”

He huffed, setting his backpack on the nightstand and cursing when it slid off. Y/N failed to fight back laughter as she watched him struggle to fit his bag next to the antiquated lamp on the side table. He swore again, finally deciding to push the lamp to the corner of the table and nearly breaking it in the process.

Having successfully removed his shoes, he sat gingerly on the bed and sighed. “But—but…” He paused, shaking his head and letting out a flustered half-laugh. “It’s wet!”

“So?” Y/N teased with a knowing grin, pleased that he’d taken the bait. All she really wanted to complete her real life daydream was to hear him request for her to sleep beside him.

“Do you know what my mother would do to me if she found out I let you sleep outside in a hammock in the fuckin’ rain?”

Oh she knew. Anne would lose her goddamn mind. As kind and gentle as she was, she demanded respectfulness and courtesy from her Harry. She wouldn’t hesitate to fire her own son for misbehaving, or at least withhold his paycheck for a few weeks.

“Fine,” she gave in with a sigh, leaning her back against the far wall, “you’re right.”

He perked up, turning around sharply to face her. “Sorry, what was tha’?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, already knowing what he was getting at. She ignored him and began undoing the clasps on her own sandals, refusing to repeat herself. Admitting he was right once was far more than enough to feed his already giant ego.

“You said I’m… what? Couldn’t hear you properly…” He had the upper hand now, and he knew it.

“Shut up, asshole.” She tossed her shoe at him, and to her delight, it landed directly on his sunburnt face. Y/N laughed loudly as he swatted the air and proceeded to rub his cheek, grimacing.

“That’s not wha’ you said, you little bitch,” He sent her a pointed smirk but didn’t retaliate, too busy tending to his own wounded skin.

Y/N gasped playfully, “What was that you called me?!” she dropped her jaw, committing to the melodrama of it all, “What would your sweet mother do if she were to find out you called me the b-word?”

With that, the ball was back in her court. Victory just within her grasp.

The light pain in Harry’s cheek had faded, but his pride was still feeling it a little. As his hand moved away from his face, Y/N caught a glimmer of mischief flicking in his eyes. “Don’t bring her into this,” he smiled, “she’s an innocent.”

“No one’s safe.” Y/N fired back immediately, a playful grin pulling at her own cheeks.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not safe,” he taunted. He hauled himself off the bed with intent to exact his revenge on her. She had a lot to be guilty of—the shoe incident, the splashing episode she started, the name-calling, the relentless teasing, and mostly the way she was looking at him right then, with fondness and...lust, unmistakable in her eyes, that was making him lose his mind.

He had her cornered against the far wall. Two hands went out to catch her bare waist and release his wrath on her in the form of tickles. Y/N laughed violently, squirming in his arms and yelping, “Stop it, Harry!” Lust clouded his own still foggy brain as he glanced downward, eyes trailing down her bikini-clad chest to her waist where he held her firmly against him.

Y/N caught him, of course. She was staring at him just as intently. As always, she was enchanted by how beautiful he was. His hair was still damp and she was close enough to see bits of sand hiding in the curls. He was grinning wildly, eyes crinkling, cheeks flushed red, teeth adorably poking his pink bottom lip.

Without warning, he ducked his head pressed his lips to hers. Shock melted away as his mouth molded to hers, igniting an inferno in the pit of her stomach. Likewise, flames of passion were roaring within Harry as desperation took over for rational thought. He kissed her with the same eagerness and intensity with which they both would dive into the ocean, head first with no hesitation. His tongue was salty and sweet against hers. He tasted faintly like the sea and weed and mangoes—everything Y/N loved.

Which made it all the more difficult to pull away.

“We should stop,” she sighed but continued to accept the hot pecks he was dotting on her cheek, her jaw, her neck.

“Why?” he muttered against her skin, pruned hands squeezing her waist tighter.

“Because, we’re all salty and gross…” she wrapped her arms around his neck, anchoring his supple lips at the nape of her neck and shivering at the feeling he gave her. His lips were hot on her skin, lighting a blissful trail of fire wherever they went.

“I don’t mind.”

The pelting rain outside sounded distant to her, like background noise against the vibrations of Harry’s husky voice.

“Well...I do. Besides, we should talk about…whatever this is…” Y/N trailed off, thoughts evaporating into feelings, words melting into breathy whines.

“Wha’s there to talk about?” He pulled away from her neck but she didn’t let him go far. She held his sunburnt cheeks in her palms and let their noses brush against each other as he declared, “’S very simple. You’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she let out a joyful laugh. She pulled away a millimeter, letting the back of her head graze the wall behind her as she continued to softly, nervously laugh, “You’re crazy, Harry. I’m not in love with you.” The lie tasted salty on her lips, as if the universe did not want to let her forget how delectable his own tasted against hers. She let herself gaze into his eyes, helpless against such a force so far beyond her control.

“You’re lying. I can tell when you look at me like that.”

She was sure he could feel her heart racing in her chest as she let out a breathy sigh, “Like how?”

“Like yeh want me to tell you you’re pretty and then fuck yeh into tha’ bed you fought me over.”

He smirked evilly as he said it, loving the way she shivered in his arms. She whined against his skin, way past pretending his words didn’t affect her. She shut her eyes and pressed another deep, languid kiss to his reddening bottom lip, unable to resist. “And what makes you so sure that’s love, H?” she whispered against his mouth.

“You’re kissin’ me like you’re in love with me, you’re looking at me like you’re in love with me, so, says Occam’s razor, yeh must be in love with me.”

“When did you become a goddamn philosopher?”

“‘M fuckin’ baked, Y/N,” he laughed, his breath tickling her cupid’s bow. “But ‘m also right. Yeh said it yourself.”

“Bullshit, you peaked a while ago.”

“Maybe I’m just fuckin’ smart then, Miss not-so-subtle-at-changing-the-subject.”

“Fine,” she deadpanned. And after a deep inhale: “I love you.”

Her voice was even, but a tsunami of feelings crashed in Y/N’s chest as the words left her lips—relief, joy, adoration, love.

An easy, knowing smile graced Harry’s mouth. “Spectaculah. I love y—“

“No,” she interrupted him with a peck on the lips, “tell me in the morning…when you’re sober. Then…”

She felt the heat rise up her throat and a smile pull at her lips at the vivid images running through her mind. The soft rays of morning sunshine peeking through the window, the sound of waves crashing in the distance, Harry’s naked chest against hers, his mouth muttering sweet, filthy praises across her chest, her tummy, the insides of her thighs…

“Sure thing, my love,” Harry laughed lightly. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on behind her red-rimmed eyelids. His own imagination was conjuring up dirty images of himself buried between her legs, basking in her salty skin and breathy whines. But there were softer thoughts, too. Fantasies involving sweet kisses pressed to her lips and her cheeks and the dulcet melody of her laughter and the feeling of her soft hands on his face. He saw her face while she was riding the biggest wave of the morning—lit up with a huge smile and eyes twinkling with the ocean’s reflection in them. He envisioned her soft lips stained orange with mango juice. He saw her cheeky, joyous grin when he was splashing her against the powdery pink backdrop of the sun setting into the sea. The prettiest fuckin’ sight I’ve ever seen.

Come morning, the first thing she heard was the crashing of the waves and Harry’s raspy voice in her ear.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

thank you for reading <3

please tell me what you think! I’d love to hear from y’all :D

informal taglist, aka a lovely bean who requested to be tagged: @fortrapsandfordaphne

[lyricalimerence]

10 Things I Hate About You • 001

masterlist • 001, 002, 003... coming soon

Chapter One — The Rule

summary: jj & rafe talk w/ the dean, regular expositional stuffs

word count: 1618

warnings: a singular swear word, sexual innuendos & use of euphemisms for terms used in writing smut, allusions to underage drug use.

a/n: i hope this chapter isn't boring 😔 but yALL IM BEYOND EXCITED TO START THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA KDJD

The Kildare County High School of the Outer Banks in North Carolina is a tale of two cities. The Kooks and the Pogues each have their metaphorically crowned Princes and Princesses, and separate castes in their social hierarchies walking the halls. As one Kook Princess, Kacey Brooks, violently rips a poster advertising the Spring Fling dance off the bulletin board, the Pogue Prince, JJ Maybank, and the Kook Prince, Rafe Cameron, are just about to run into each other in the doorway of the Dean’s office.

The Dean is a thin woman with a raspy voice. She’s snappy, vulgar, and in the midst of writing plotless, and pointless, smut into a novel.

JJ is sat on the opposite side of the Dean's desk, starting at the HP emblem etched into the back of her computer, the clacking of the keyboard keys echoed through the office. He knew why he landed himself there, he just wished she would let him go already. She wanted him gone, he wanted him gone, cut out the middleman and let him leave. The Dean wanted to write out graphic ( and disturbing ) sex scenes, and JJ wanted to get to the quad where he could watch Gracie Brooks from afar in between second and third period.

The Dean carefully closed her laptop, her thin, almost witchy fingers treating her creative medium with more respect than she's ever shown the students of Kildare County. Tapping her thick, pink framed glasses up the tanned bridge of her crooked nose, her eyes settled on JJ. He leant backwards in his chair, tipping precariously on its back legs. He looked the same as he always did when he came face to face with the Dean; a heather grey Coors t-shirt with the sleeves cut off draped over his shoulders—the emblem on the center of his shirt was problematic in itself—, navy blue cargo shorts hung relatively low from his hips, but not enough that he was showing anymore than anyone wanted to see, and his black combat boots left black treds on the tile flooring from the rubber soles. Tousled blond tendrils of hair were more or less disheveled than usual as they curled around his forehead, shading his cerulean eyes that were watching the Dean expectantly.

“Alright, Maybank. You’ve been absent the past week.” She picked up the file that was placed next to her closed laptop, a single piece of printer paper sticking out of the manila folder. her eyes scanned the corner of the paper, just soaking in the most surface level information as to why JJ Maybank was sitting in her office—again.

He nodded slightly, just barely dipping his chin in acknowledgement. “Yes, Ma’am. Do you wanna know—” JJ knew their conversation wouldn't last much longer. The Dean wanted him in and out. She had to mark that the student was in her office as part of her job description, but she didn't actually have to offer them advice or discipline.

“That’s enough. I’m sure this will happen again, just don’t be so obvious next time.” The Dean, who JJ knew by first name ( they were that well acquainted ), stood out of her chair to shoo the blond out of her small workspace she grew to call… her imaginative corner. The needy, shit-for-brains teenagers that were in and out of the place all day were ruining the “aura.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, Ma’am.” JJ replied as he turned on his boot-clad heel through the doorway, only to come face-to-face with Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince in all his Ralph Lauren polo glory. It wasn’t that JJ was short—he wasn’t at six feet tall—, but Rafe had two inches of height up on him. Even in a metaphorical sense, Rafe seemingly always had the upper hand. Whether it was from a financial, familial, or even school performance standpoint.

So, with a pointed glare ( that was returned by Rafe ), JJ stepped through the doorway, eager to rid himself of the Cameron boy's presence before he threw a punch for no reason besides intuition.

The Dean looked up as JJ walked away, leaving Rafe to turn in towards the interior of the office, a smirk that was bound to stick on his face like a silly childhood white lie, pulling at the corner of his lips. “Rafe Cameron,” her scratchy voice drawled as she dropped her clipboard about a foot onto her desk, letting the clattering sound echo. Rafe didn’t bother with the formalities of sitting down, he, like JJ, knew he would be in and out before he could say the words, “Outer Banks.”

“I see we’re making these visits a weekly ritual.”

“Only so I can see you, Ma’am.” His smirk widened into a sarcastic grin. Despite being so, outlandishly different, Rafe and JJ were uncannily the same. Even in ways they wouldn’t be caught dead with another person knowing about. “Should I play our collection of Frank Ocean songs?”

“Very clever, Rage.” She exaggerated her calling him Rage, his name was so close to the word and the word described almost his entire personality. The Dean relished in the irony. She picked up another manila folder, flipping through the papers inside she looked back towards the boy with disdain. “Says here you snorted coke in the cafeteria?”

Rafe sighed, what it said was absolutely the truth, but he couldn’t get by without putting at least a little effort in. “I was joking, I was pretending to do a bump when it was just salt.”

“Salt?” The Dean walked towards Rafe ready to push him out of her office, although the snorting of coke started turning gears in her crude brain. “That had to burn going down didn’t it? Next time, do it in the bathroom. Now, adios!”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Rafe left the Dean’s office, where she was opening up her laptop once more, muttering to herself, “Snorting coke...high sex? Bump, sounds modern.”

. . .

In the heart of the quad, as the wind picked up, blowing the remnants of an oceanic breeze across the grounds of the high school, JJ fell into step with his best friend—John B. Neither had materials needed for class. John B had a piece of paper stuffed into the back pocket of his shorts, and JJ was going off maybe having a pen or pencil in the amalgam of beer bottle caps and the paper with which he handrolls his joints jingling in one of the various pockets in his cargo shorts. Groups of people stand in their own, small congregations. There are the basic beauts—the Kook girls and guys that have nothing going for them besides their looks. Their parents make good money, enough to stay on Figure Eight, the rich side of the island, but not enough for them to be extraordinary in any feat. There are the surfers; they are Cut’s pride and joy. They adorn their lockers with stickers and listen to reggae music in the halls. One of the only groups in school that intermingled between social classes, that is to say the only group that blurred the line between Kook and Pogue, are the stoners. Lots of smoking weed, but sometimes someone can rope in something stronger. Normally, it was cocaine, considering the expansive market for the drug in the Outer Banks.

John B and JJ found another one of their close friends, Pope. The three Pogues were in their own little world, talking amongst themselves about possible storms heading in that would create surges perfect to surf when Gracie Brooks and her best friend, Arianna Chavez passed them. JJ’s attention was immediately caught. He was like a fish and whenever he talked to Gracie, saw Gracie, hell, whenever he interacted with her in any way, he would take the bait on the fishing rod. She was like a magnet, albeit, she didn’t quite return his feelings.

Gracie is one of Figure Eight’s finest. Her mother split a few years ago, and neither Gracie, nor her older sister Kacey Brooks, have told anyone why. Steve Brooks—Kacey and Gracie’s father—is an obstetrician, and one of the very few on the island. That in itself racks in quite the salary for the two Kook princesses to spend.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, as the two girls passed him.

Gracie continued to preach the differences between “like” and “love” via the analogy of her high-top Converse to her Doc Martens. Arianna nodded her head in agreement. While there was just something about Gracie, whether it be her cookie-cutter looking exterior in short dresses or her allusions to a deeper meaning behind her relationships with her shoes, there was also something about Arianna. Before she became best friends with Gracie, she was more outgoing, more talkative, more eloquent with her words, but Gracie’s influence changed that, and if the universe was any indication, it seldom sure that Arianna would revert back to her pre-Gracie self after her influence is gone.

“Dude, you know the rule.” John B said, tugging on JJ’s shoulder as the blond sixteen-year-old almost followed Gracie, like he couldn't help but just be pulled into her wake. It was true, JJ did know the rule. It was widely known that the Brooks sisters Do Not Date. In Kacey’s freshman year, the rule was widely condemned by the male population until halfway through the year something snapped. She was no longer just another Kook Princess with preppy sundresses and vintage Reeboks. Now, all the fuss was on Gracie. Every guy was vying for her attention. She simply relished in the attention, and all JJ could do was pine quietly until graduation. Or, he could meddle. There was always that.

tags: @perkily @mortifiedposts @poguequeen @abigailpankow @curlybrownhairedboys @steverogers123 @outerbankslut @jayjaymaebank @jjssarah @whOreforharry @wowitswondergurl @anonymous0writer @kodi8314 @outrbank @aestheticcraze @kylosleftbuttcheek @x-lulu @dailygrace06 @calswildflower95 @insanitysparkles @prejudic3 @ilovejjmaybank @apoguecalledjj @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @calumbroutledge @rudys-pankow @bxllasanosa @write-from-the-heart @thelocalpogue @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @lovingxjj @beatement-l @drew-starkey @beckester @butgilinsky @kayak-huesgen

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[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Cafeteria Communities

Monthly Prompts Day 22

August 22nd - Community (Also my niece, Lorali’s, tenth birthday!)

AU Used: High School AU (I just had to for this one as I’ve had this idea for ages)

Characters: Bikers and Surfers (Teen Beach Movie), Miles and Mick (OCs)

Song Inspiration: “Where Do You Belong?” from Mean Girls on Broadway

Notes: I got back from my niece’s pool party and pushed this thing out of me within maybe a half hour to an hour. I’m so sorry if I missed anything in my edit as I’m utterly exhausted, I will fix them if I find them in the morning.

High school was the basic breeding ground for insecurities to fester and for friendships to be tested as social groups pulled you apart at the seams. Mick had lived in California for most of her life, having only spent half of one semester attending school in New Hampshire before deciding to go back to her school in San Clemente, California. By the time Mick had returned, her friends back home had settled into their cliques already, some of them joining the theatre group while others stuck with being the school’s stereotypical Cali surfers and the rest were spread throughout other groups entirely. Somehow, most of them had been able to stick it out in their Freshman year and remained friends. 

For Sophomore year, however, Mick had been forced to leave her school and friend group as her mom had gotten a job offer on the Gulf Coast of Florida and they insisted that she should try it for a year with an already agreed upon pay rate - a common suggestion for her mom’s job. Mick wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but her parents had found a nice place by the beach for them to stay, so Mick couldn’t find much room for complaining.

Suncoast High School was nothing like her old school. It was almost laughable in contrast, really. As soon as she made an appearace in the first class of the day, people began murmuring to each other. At first, she thought it was just because she was new and that things would settle by lunch when everyone could meet her, however, that was not the case. Most everyone had their own little communities within the cafeteria, practically blocking out any attempts Mick had made at friendships.

It frustrated her, it really did, but she could understand not wanting to immediately accept the new person in school, but did they have to make it so obvious that they didn’t want her around?

Mick had taken her food out to the hallway where she could sit outside the cafeteria in peace, all by herself, and listen to her music, only to find herself greeted by a tall boy with curly brown hair and a button-down t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“I think I’m the one that should be asking you that, new girl,” the tall boy asked.

“I’m Mick,” she introduced, holding out her hand to the boy.

“Miles,” he replied, giving the hand a quick shake. “Can’t find a table, Mickey Mouse?”

“No,” Mick said, shaking her head. “And it’s just Mick, not Mickey.”

Miles gave her a playful smile. “I know, but I already like calling you Mickey Mouse.”

Mick sighed, rolling her eyes quickly and taking in a spoonful of mashed potatoes. Miles quickly joined her, seating himself elbow to elbow with the shorter girl. “You know, I could find you a group pretty quickly if you’d follow me around the cafeteria for a minute or two.”

“I’m only going to be here for a year at most, what would I need a group for?” Mick asked as she met eyes with Miles.

“Well, that takes out the theatre group and choir,” Miles claimed as he made a face.

Mick gave him a disbelieving look, sputtering out a question, “W-wha?- wait, how? How would that one sentence give you any idea about what clique I’d be in?”

Miles let out a laugh, pushing himself up to his feet once more, holding out a hand to the new girl. “Tell you what, Mickey Mouse,” he began, “you give me two minutes to show you what I see around the cafeteria and you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”

Mick stared at the hand for a moment, deciding she had nothing to lose and, if nothing else, at least it would help her escape the nasty mashed potatoes. “Deal,” she said as she took Miles’ hand. Miles helped her to her feet, taking her lunch tray and setting it aside before dragging her into the cafeteria.

“You'll be judged on sight and made to fit. So find a clique and stick with it.” Miles said with confidence as he tucked Mick’s hand into the crook of his elbow and walked toward the far side of the cafeteria. “Let's take a walk around the cafeteria and I'll show you the world as I see it.”

“Okay,” Mick agreed softly, feeling a tad awkward as she followed Miles toward two tables teeming with kids that were decked out in Letterman jackets and school colors.

Miles pause in front of the two tables, gesturing toward the large groups. “These are the Varsity jocks and JV jocks and they’ll throw you in a locker if you say ‘Hello’.”

Mick nodded as her eyes widened in shock, allowing Miles to take her between the two jock tables toward two tables that reeked of an odor that smelled like a skunk had sprayed into a cigarette and they had tried covering up the smell with too much body cologne. “What is that?” she asked as she covered her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.

“The rich stoners and the gangster whites. They can’t stand each other, but they’re all smoking the same shit,” Miles whispered to Mick as he ushered her over to the next tables. “You’ll get a contact high if you stay near them for too long and, judging by your face, Mickey Mouse, I guess that isn’t a good idea for you.”

Mick quickly shook her head, feeling her head begin to throb as she was brought to the next set of tables and away from the overwhelming yet unique smell that the stoner kids had developed all on their own. A group of fairly average students were sitting on and around a table - the only thing throwing Mick off entirely was that most of them were in couples and were actively sucking each other’s faces off while a few were sitting at the end of the table with some instrument cases and trying to ignore the others. Mick couldn’t keep her eyes on the table for long, simple averting her eyes to the wall as far from that table as possible. “Are those supposed to be the band kids?” she offered to Miles, a sense of utter shock in her voice.

“Some of them actually like band and are actually really good at it,” Miles began, pausing for a moment to lightly smack away the hand of a girl who was trying to pinch his backside. “The rest of them just fake it and are there to be with their significant others. The ones in relationships are the only reason that we don’t have any band shows at football games.”

“Okay... Can we keep going, please?” Mick asked as she looked anywhere, but that table.

Miles steered her away from the band kids, to a table full of girls who seemed almost evenly divided as to who was eating and who wasn’t. “There's girls that eat their feelings and girls that just don't eat. I like eating lots of chocolate around them when I get the chance since it makes them all go crazy.”

“That isn’t nice!” Mick argued as she took in the information, noting that one of the girls was staring longingly at another girl’s tray as the second girl peeled open a package of chocolate Twinkies. “It may be true,” she mumbled, “but that doesn’t make it right to do that.”

As Miles took her toward another table, Mick stopped, hearing a group of teenagers talk about going to the beach after school. Upon her very quick first glance, Mick almost thought they were her friends from back home. One of them looked like her friend Kat, covered in bright colors and had pin-straight blonde hair that was left in a half ponytail. Another one looked like her cousin and best friend, Hudson, who always wore some kind of silly Hawaiian shirt and left his mop of super tight curls fairly untamed.

“Who are they?” Mick asked as Miles turned back and stopped beside her.

Miles gave an extended and very theatrical sigh, almost forcing out his answer. “Those are the beach bums. They only ever seem to talk about the beach and surfing, but I doubt they ever actually go as we never see them there.”

“We?” Mick asked, turning to meet Miles’ gaze as the curly-haired boy began to lead her away. “Who is ‘we’?”

“You know, Mickey Mouse, I always save they best for last,” Miles claimed with a smile that Mick could only place under the category of pure cockiness. Miles took Mick’s hand in his own and practically paraded her to the last table in the cafeteria. “Look, who is at this table? Why it’s the Rodents!”

“And Miles too,” a couple of the bikers chimed in response. If that simple response meant anything, Mick could only assume that Miles probably tried this whenever a new kid came along that the community of leather-clad teenagers seemed to like.

“We're not exactly joiners,” Miles stated matter-of-factly as he leaned against the table comfortably, “but we'll be good friends to you. What do you say, Mick?” Miles held out his hand to Mick one last time, giving her a brilliant smile.

Mick peered at the extended hand, taking a look around the cafeteria and scanning over every table. The jocks were still probably talking strategies for the next few games they all had; the stoner kids were eating brownies out of someone’s plastic baggie; the band kids were... the band kids. The only other table that seemed intriguing would be the surfers, but Mick guessed she could always talk to some of them after school and see what they were actually like. 

With that being said and done, Mick turned back to Miles, taking his hand in hers and giving it a shake.

[itsbenedict]

Kingdoms and Koopas: Ep. 3

K&K is a Fate Accelerated campaign set in the Mario universe, which I’m running for three players:

Bee @thebeeskneesocks​, playing Kandace Koopa

Jovian @jovian12​, playing Cozmo Naut

Malky @sleepdepravity​, playing Dr. Chevy Chain

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Previously on Kingdoms and Koopas: the party disturbed the restless dead, including Kandace’s gym coach, and managed to retrieve the Music Key from the Heart of Darkness. Then they tried teleporting out, and found themselves... out, but surrounded by hostile Koopalings. Whoops! They should probably do something about that.

(pictured: maps! of the Koopa Kingdom capital, Bowserburg Shellington New Bowseria Whatever It’s Called Today. above, and below.)

So, to recap their predicament in a little more detail, their teleport took them to the cloud of a Lakitu, who, upon suffering the effects of the Vacuum Shroom toxin they teleported into his cloud, proclaimed himself “the Storm God” and began terrorizing his fellow students. At least, until Kandace cast a spell to make them heavy and sink down into the fountain below, where it all got washed out and they all return to normal.

To normal, except they’re in this big indoor courtyard foyer thing, and they’re surrounded by five of the seven Koopalings. And... see, the Koopalings attend Kam Ekademy, the school across the street from Kammy Koopa’s Academy For Young Witches and Wizards. These two schools... have something of a rivalry. And a rivalry between two magic schools populated by irresponsible troublemakers... it’s more of a prank war type of deal. And wouldn’t you know it- the party contains a Kammy’s student!

Chevy, as usual, attempts to just roll the fuck outta there, but, uh... well, Kamek’s school uniforms are blue, and Kammy’s school uniforms are purple. And Chevy is purple, and seemingly with Kandace, and so the Koopalings jump to conclusions. “The Skammies are trying to escape!” Lemmy yells.

So... Roy is the first to act, firing a cannonball at Chevy. The way the rolls go, though... I guess Roy’s cannon is no match for a charging chain chomp, and it glances right off. Morton tries to stop her, too, and manages a little better- they tie, and Chevy manages to shove him to the doorway but not out. Cozmo tries to follow Chevy’s lead, doing the standard-issue X-Naut bum-rush. Lemmy tries to roll over to block him, but again the rolls are not in his favor, and Cozmo just knocks the ball out from under him and charges past. Kandace also attempts to flee, and also shout taunts at the Koopalings, but Ludwig grabs at her broom. And... just gets a handful of bristles as she speeds away. Larry tries shooting spells at them from the second-floor railing, but misses.

So as they get out the front door of Kam Ekademy, they’re attacked from behind as Wendy O. throws a ring at them from the balcony above the door. She also misses, though, and Kandace fires back with her heaviness spell, targeted at Wendy O.’s bow- causing her to lose her balance and fall off the balcony. The lot of them proceed down the front path... only to be blocked by Iggy, the final obstacle! Who... also misses, and knocks some of the pursuing Koopalings back a bit with the stray blast. They breeze right past him.

As they leave by the front gate (which the Koopalings aren’t allowed to pass out through, as school is in session), a “psst” gets their attention. Kandace recognizes the source of the voice as that shifty junk dealer that tries to sell useless crap to the kids at Kammy’s at a huge markup- looks like he also hangs around by the Ekademy.

Cozmo does not recognize that this brown Shy Guy in a trenchcoat, wearing an enormous fake mustache, is actually his boss, Shady Guy.

Chevy, with no patience for this, takes off for the hospital, but Cozmo and Kandace check out Shady Guy’s Deals Guy’s wares. There’s some weird yellow mushrooms, green dried shrooms, some weird little metal thing that he calls a “good’un” (or “G’un”), a ratty old umbrellla, and... ooh, a collapsible stunt bike!

Before buying anything, though, Kandace gets suspicious, and tears off Deals Guy’s mustache- revealing that it was, in fact, Shady Guy all along! Shady Guy tries to snatch it back, but fails- and Kandace ransoms it back in exchange for the bike. Hooray for robbery! Good thing there’s no way Shady Guy would ever go to the police about this. Cozmo gets the bike, and excitedly heads home.

Kandace returns to Kammy’s, Music Key in hand. On the way, though, she encounters... the hooded figure with the pink beak. It gestures for her to hand over the Music Key, but Kandace is suspicious. She instead insists that it escort her to Kammy personally, at which it balks, but ultimately agrees. Or, pretends to- as they’re almost there, it attempts to snatch the Music Key but fails. (Kandace cast a spell that creates a protective but freezing-cold ice bubble, before it could get her.) Kandace, vindicated in her suspicions, hamster-ball-rolls into the school and heads to Kammy’s office.

Kammy, for her part, seems surprised and slightly distressed that Kandace has returned with the Key successfully, and that it wasn’t somehow stolen from her. Odd, that. She weasels out of her promise to hand over a magic item from her treasure vault- modifying clarifying the terms of the deal such that, okay, it’s one magic item per orb for whoever turns it in, so four total- but they’re only handed out once all the Music Keys have been collected. So... Kandace better get back to work finding the rest!

Kandace isn’t happy about this, but whatever- she’s guaranteed at least one, as long as Kammy gets all the Music Keys, so if she can find the rest, cool beans.

And... cut to black, because we’re moving to the next day. Cozmo has decided to take his new collapsible stunt bike out for a spin at Plumber’s Folly, one of those incredibly deadly natural obstacle courses that occur in this neck of the woods. Kind of a companion to The Part That’s Supposed To Stop Mario But Doesn’t. Anyway, uh... Cozmo finds out the hard way that the collapsible bike “purchased” from Deals Guy has the emphasis on “collapsible”. It breaks underneath him and sends him flying into a lake of lava, causing his lives to go down from 3 to 2 and landing him with severe injuries back on shore.

He’s found by Party Guy, his direct superior at the talent agency. Shady Guy owns Shady Guy’s Talent Agency, but doesn’t do much management- that end of things is left to this clown. This literal clown, a guy who’s attended every Mario Party and knows how to have a good time. He takes Cozmo back up the hill to the talent agency, but Shady Guy calls him inside to deal with something urgent, and he leaves Cozmo on the ground after calling Kandace to come pick him up.

Kandace finds her way down past the Koopa Katacombs (think the ones in Paris, except it’s just sort of an underground apartment district for Dry Bones), and the Cavern of Gratuitous Spiky Peril, which she’s able to just ride her broom over. She picks up Cozmo and takes him to the hospital, where Chevy reluctantly patches him up again. 

...Oh, while they’re in the waiting room there, Kandace and Cozmo overhear- from a heavily-injured superhero wannabe Pokey named Pokey Man, who works for Shady Guy’s Talent Agency- that the boss was seen carrying a shiny orb into Plumber’s Folly. Weird!

Anyway, Chevy decides that she needs to see Cozmo’s place of work, and find out what conditions are like there. There has to be some reason this guy keeps getting horribly injured! So... they decide to take what should be a shortcut, since the Cavern of Gratuitously Spiky Peril is harder to navigate with three to a broom. They take the underground below the hospital, and find... one small tunnel, and one big tunnel. The big tunnel has a broken bridge, though, so they can’t go that way at this point in the plot. They take the small tunnel...

...Which suffers a cave-in, due to the fact that I came up with it just then as a way for them to bypass certain obstacles I hadn’t finished setting up on the real path. So they won’t be using that one again. But they escape the cave-in, by running really fast in a panic, and arrive at the big cavern where Shady Guy’s Talent Agency is situated.

Cozmo decides to take them on a tour! Weirdly, the receptionist, Goomfried, is absent- but there’s a lot of noise coming from the dance room. They go check that out, and find... well, as usual, a particular couple new recruits are there. This guy Mike, some kind of robot, is DJing, and Jamie Thang is cutting a rug like there’s no tomorrow. Or, well- there’s no rug, it’s one of those light-up colored grid floor things, but you get the idea.

Also in the room is Party Guy, talking to... incredibly famous Mushroom Kingdom actor/director Zip Toad! Apparently the talent agency finally has an actual client! Zip Toad, who we decide sounds like Tommy Wiseau (because Party Guy and Cozmo are already sharing the surfer dude/stoner type accent), is looking for stunt talent for his new film. Cozmo’s eager to show off, so Zip Toad, Party Guy, and the party head off to Plumber’s Folly for Cozmo to show off.

Cozmo makes two rolls, here. One roll is with +Flashy, to see how totally sick his stunting is. The other roll is +Careful, to see whether he sticks the landing and doesn’t wipe out on the Plumber’s Folly hazards.

Cozmo’s Flashy is +3. His Careful is +0. The outcomes of these rolls are exactly as you might predict.

So, Chevy has unraveled the mystery of why Cozmo is getting injured so often. It’s because he goes out of his way to do the most dangerous possible things, all the time! Wow! The case is closed. She goes down to try and peel Cozmo off the spike wall he impaled himself on, while Kandace...

Kandace has that magical ability to sort of sense the direction of nearby Music Keys, and... huh! Seems like there’s one down, down deep in Plumber’s Folly! Weird. So, of course, she heads right inside, heedless of the dangers. And then... oh, boy. Oh, boy, the dangers. A wall of rock cuts her off from the others, and then more walls of rock erupt from the ground and knock everyone else off their feet! The party and company begin to tumble down into the depths of World 9-5. Next time: we’ll see how well the party manages doing plumber’s work!

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[tedcatchpole-blog]

Narcos season 3 review

Narcos. Season 3 episodes 1-3

I went into watching this, knowing that there have been parts of the previous seasons I have not enjoyed but that the overall entertainment I received certainly made it worth my while sticking with it. It is quite often the case with recent TV series, I think of Hannibal and Boardwalk Empire , particularly the latter with killing off, to my mind, the strongest character at the end of season 2 (Michael Pitt as Jimmy Darmody), that you get episodes that do not live up to previous standards. Sometimes this can be more than just one or two episodes, sometimes half a series. This is particularly risky when (as in the aforementioned Hannibal, it is the first episodes in a new season. That is how you lose a viewer. Hannibal nearly lost me in the first tedious half of season 2 but I was very glad I stuck with it as I found the latter portion of said series to be impeccable entertainment.

So in series 3 of Narcos, I have found both aspects. They have killed off a major character, pretty much the main character, especially considering the blandness of the narrator and hero of the first two series, Steve. He is rather an empty vessel, and more so up against the colourful and grandiose Pablo Escobar, who was (more or less) in sync with history, killed at the end of the last series.

So we have gone into the new series with the charismatic villain dead and some businessmen and a playboy taking over.

When the new series starts we are left to deduce for ourselves that the main protagonist from seasons 1 and 2, Boyd Holdbrooks DEA agent Stephen Murphy, is not in in with us for season 3. Our new narrator is the womanising previously decamped agent Pena. A man with a Derek Zoolander approach to facial expressions, except he has two looks, apologetic and sorry.

He is back in the fray due to his knowledge of the current antagonists, the Cali Cartel. The rivals to Escobar who have taken over in his absence and increased cocaine production and distribution to the USA, particularly New York as we find out. I did like Javier Pena. I wish they had eased up on the reluctant womaniser cliche, it's very tired, but if the first episode is anything to go by. They are not.

He is back on the case. After a really arbitrary group of scenes at his home town, one of many really clumpy and lazy season 3 exposition scenes, where he meets an old flame who he apparently treated badly but has forgiven him because after he left her she found true love, then with his sage-like father warning him, just as he did years before, to not be naive in the big bad world, we see him back in Colombia. He has been asked back but told it has to be by the book. He has a well meaning but geeky team under him, and he is told that it is not a gunfight. It will not be like Pablo. It will be intelligence led. A welcome return is made by the convincing Bill Stechner as the contentious CIA station chief who previously ousted Havi Pena only to be the one who called him back. They get off to a predictably unfriendly start as they meet in a bar (halfway through agent Pena picking up on a woman in a bar when he is feeling down about things ...yawn…) but I think he is a better foil for Pena than the beige-misted Steve Murphy.

As far as the baddies go, as the end of season 2 showed us, its the Cali Cartel. They are very different to Pablo and his Medellin outfit, they are known as the “Gentlemen of Cali”, where Pablo welcomed publicity,fame, and public adoration, they eschew it. In the last series, they were shown to be very tough but not as ruthless as Pablo. In the last series we were shown that they were like bankers. They were cutthroat but only in a business sense, at least at the top.

However, at the beginning of series 3 we have been shown, rather clumsily I think, that they can be as violent and brutal as El Padrone was. For example, the non-related member of the Cali bosses, Pacho Herrera, was shown to be as sadisticly violent as anyone else when he had a rival narco with whom he had an undisclosed beef, ripped limb from limb by motorcycles. Unfortunately this incident was so clearly nothing more than a force-fed way to show the audience that the Cali guys were also tough and nasty that it felt obtuse and clunky. Remember in the Godfather II when they have the prostitute murdered by Al Neri just to blackmail the Senator? Apparently that was included to remind the audience how vile the Mafia was, after the seemingly quite forgivable actions in the first made them come across as sort of rough diamond bad guys killing worse guys. So imagine if that subtle and excellent subtext had been done at the end of the first movie in a post credits scene, if Al Neri after he had expertly gunned down Don Barzini went to his hideout apartment and after a hallway encounter over nothing more than a loudly slammed door had been shown gutting an innocent mother in front of her children and giving a wink as the camera closes in on his eye, then that is what we have here.  Anyway, they are all reintroduced, the leader, Gilberto Rodriguez, is cold blooded, yet maybe a bit distanced from the day to day cocaine business and therefore not maybe as aggressively ruthless as the more involved bosses of past and present, but it seems in no way unclear, he is numero uno. Then his brother Miguel, a rather enigmatic type, who seems to have a motive in playing saviour to a rival's wife (the aforementioned chap ripped apart by suzukis) but it appears sex is not the reason. It leaves a question open but I am not sure if it is interesting enough to take up much screen time.

The main issue, revealed at the close of the first episode is that the Cali cartel is disbanding, withdrawing from Cocaine and will hand themselves in. This is to happen in six months. The plan is for deals made through bribery and legal manipulation, the top guys will serve no time and will have plenty to retire on, and for the mid levels who will serve some time, they have six months during which they are to go all out to make as much money as possible, to go totally balls-out so they can serve a few months and have plenty saved to make it a worthwhile sacrifice to be able to live free of legal scrutiny. This decision was made purely by the top bosses. Obviously there were voices of dissent. The way they are discovered is classy television. Great editing and gripping action. The goal will now be for the authorities to get them before the six months expires.

We have the snidey accountant. The immensely well played (by Javier Camara) Guillermo Pallomari.  A man who seems to be what the Nazi propaganda tried to make Jewish people look like to German children in the mid 1930s. Slimy, unethical, selfish, and happy to see others suffer. He is certainly likely to be a pivotal role in this seasons shenanigans. Also there is the equally enjoyable yet far more likeable Jorge Salcedo. He is the Cali’s head of security. A tortured man, he was planning on leaving to start his own security firm but after being told of the six-month plot he is asked (“asked”) to stay on. Alongside a burgeoning resentment from the obviously spoiled and incapable David Rodriguez, son of the Cartel's boss,Gilberto We see soon how he is not a man of cartel ethics. At the party where the Rodriguez brothers announce their grand plan he discovers a waiter who is wearing a wire. We also see what a fully competent security operative he is. HE shows the waiter he knows who has sent him and why and gives him a final and clear chance to leave Cali, he then disorientates the DEA agents who set the trap with consummate ease. Also we see him expertly foil a DEA raid to the aforementioned icky accountants office. The accountants arrogance nearly cost the Cali boys everything but Jorge using his strength, guile, and wit prevents it. I really do look forward to seeing how he arcs through the series  

Agent Pena is for some reason being cited as a hero at the agency. He has gone from a regular agent to some sort of supercop, which given the sacrifices made by the Colombian forces and the other domestic and foreign agencies coupled with the fact he was not present at Escobar's death seems a little unlikely. Anyway, with this status he is in some sort of role (referred to as a “promotion” but at no point yet given a title or description) that leaves a vacancy for the roles filled by him and the strangely unmentioned Stephen Murphy. So step forward agents Feistl and Van Ness. Introduced as such a blatantly low grade version of Pena and Murphy I thought I had tuned into a franchised remake on a public access channel. They even look the same, but come across as….remember the movie The Beach, the two air head surfer stoners Sammy and Zeph that end up ruining it all with their stupidity? They reminded me of exactly those guys (not the book characters, for those who remember the book will know why).

They are made out to be bumbling and incompetent. One (Feistl) is played to be over zealous and naive and the other one (the other one) is played as phoning his job in and completely disinterested.

However, they appear by episode three to actually be very able, determined and, were it not for the sharp response of the Jack Bauer-esque Cali security chief, the guys who could have bought the Cartel down.

So If you want to know is it any good? Yes it is. If you had asked me that after episode 2 I might have replied differently, but episode three just like in Hannibal and Boardwalk, has made me glad I persisted and reminded me why I liked this series so much.

There are many careless scenes. Some really clunky exposition, and there are gaps left where there needs to be a bridge of some sort.

If I am asked can this series survive without Escobar, I would have said after two hours, no. Yet I am starting to think that the threads cast by the accountant, security chief, new agents, and the political tension wickedly stirred up by CIA spook Stechner are all going to weave into a really gripping re-telling of  real life events

[sodasback]

Coconut Chapstick - For You Series

JJ Maybank x Allie Routledge (John B.’s younger sister)

Reposted from my deleted account:

JJ was out sitting on the dock, just looking out at the water. He heard the back door to the Chateau’s porch slam and saw Allie coming outside looking distressed. He could tell even from that distance that she was holding back tears and she placed her hands on top of her head and paced like she did when she was really upset. He turned back towards the water, letting her have her moment and because he wasn’t in the best mood either. 

Allie took several deep breaths and paced back and forth until she saw JJ sitting out on the dock. At first, she thought she would just leave him be, but she figured she could use some patented JJ Maybank lightheartedness right about now anyway. 

JJ heard her steps down the dock, but didn’t turn around. 

“Hey loser” He greeted her with their usual term of endearment as he took another sip from his can of beer and Allie sat down. 

“Hey” she replied, sitting next to him, both their feet dangling just above the water. “What’re you doing out here?” She asked. 

“Existential crisis, teenage angst, nihilistic thought spirals... the usual” He quipped, earning a small chuckle from Allie. 

“Those are some big words there, pretty boy. Did you accidentally eat a thesaurus?” she teased. 

“Ha ha you’re so funny Allie” he griped, nudging her leg with his and then offering his can of beer. John B. had just yelled at them the day prior about not living up to their potential and JJ being a bad influence on Allie and how if Allie continued doing stuff like drinking, he was gonna send her to live with their mom in Colorado. So Allie raised her eyebrows, surprised JJ was already breaking John B’s new rule. 

“Are you gonna take it or what? Because I’d actually rather not share-” He said, starting to pull his offer back, but Allie grabbed the can from him, inciting a smirk to grow on his face.

“No, no. I’ll take what I can get at this point.” Allie said sipping the beer and taking a deep sigh as she looked out at the water with JJ. 

There was a comfortable silence for a couple minutes. 

“You ever just wanna leave?” Allie asked, still looking ahead at the marsh. 

JJ snorted a little, “Are you kidding me? Did you forget who you’re talking to?” He asked, looking at her. 

“Right, right. How could I forget? Yucatan.” 

JJ nodded, “Yep, that’s right. Surf all day and eat lobsters I-”

“You catch with your bare hands? Yeah, I remember now.” They both smiled.

“So little miss perfect, you have dreams of running away too? I don’t think that’s in big bro’s big plan for you.” 

Allie sighed again, “Yeah, well John B. is just setting himself up for disappointment ...and everyone else for that matter.” She added quietly at the end. 

“Wha’dyou mean?” JJ asked; a furrow in his brow now appearing. Allie shrugged. 

“Everyone thinks I just have it all together all the time. And everyone just assumes I’m gonna go off to a big university and do great things. But I have no fucking clue what I want to do. I don’t know what I’m going to study in school. I don’t even know if I want to go to college.” 

“What? Of course you’re going to college.You are like the single most prepared person for college I’ve ever met, including Pope and he’s off at Chapel Hill.” 

“See? Exactly. Everyone just thinks I’m gonna go, and I just always thought I was supposed to too but... what if I’m not?” 

JJ contemplated her words for a minute and looked at her and she looked back at him, finally seeing the other side of his face the first time that day. JJ looked at her in confusion as he saw her thoughtful expression quickly turn into worry and concern before she reached up and grabbed his chin.

“Owww” JJ exclaimed as Allie not-so-gently wrenched his face toward her so she could get a better look at the damage. 

“Oh my god JJ! What happened to your face?” Allie’s question instinctually slipped out, even though she pretty much already knew. Although, knowing JJ he could have gotten the cut on his lip and the black eye from several different right hooks on the island. 

“Jesus, Al. Careful! .. Well, you can cut anything from the medical field out from your list of potential majors because you are about as gentle as a gorilla.” Allie ignored this comment and just continued looking at his face in concern, waiting for him to answer her initial question. “...I had to go home to get some stuff.” He mumbled, gently moving her hand off his face and looking back at the water. 

"JJ” She said in an aching voice, “I don’t get why you go back there at all anymore. You should just move in here. You’re done with school, you’re 18.” 

JJ was quiet. He didn’t know why he kept going back to be honest. Allie reached out and grabbed his hand squeezing it. 

“You know how amazing I think you are right?” She asked him with a small smile. 

JJ scoffed, “Yeah, I’m so amazing. I’m an 18 year old homeless, stoner surfer who busses tables and mows lawns, who’s only goal is to run away to Mexico.”  He said with dark sarcasm. Allie furrowed her brow, deeply troubled by JJ’s perception of one of her favorite people. 

“Hey” she said getting him to look at her. “You’re so much more than that and you fucking know it. Don’t give me this self-deprecating bullshit. You’re JJ fucking Maybank. Best surfer I know. Can fix anything with a motor. Can charm any room. Got a 5 on your AP Spanish test. ...And you’re a pretty good kisser, I guess.” Allie shrugged at the last part. 

JJ chuckled, “Yeah? How would you know?” JJ asked, nudging into her again. 

Allie gasped in shock,  “Wow, J. I am deeply hurt. You don’t remember?! ... you were my first real kiss. ...Right here on this dock. ...I was like 12 I think or 13 and getting ready for my first boy-girl party and I was out here trying to practice kissing my own arm. And you came out and made fun of me and then offered to teach me?” She said trying to jog his memory and blushing at the last part as revelation washed over JJ’s face. 

“Okay, I was way more smooth than that though! ... yeah, do your lips still taste like coconut chapstick?” He teased, but paused when he saw the way Allie was looking at him.

“You could find out” she said quietly. Then her gaze moved from looking in JJ’s eyes to looking down at JJ’s lips as they started to lean in to each other. 

“Yoooo!” Pope yelled walking down to the dock as JJ and Allie instantly pulled back, turned away from each other and scooted in opposite directions. JJ coughing awkwardly, before realizing his best friend was back. 

“Hey college boy!” Allie recovered from the moment more quickly, standing up to give Pope a hug. 

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