#oh from these brief mentions of content alone i get the idea he doesn't have the most personable attitude and is trying to assert that he

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Mattheo/Theodore x m reader

Straight boy mattheo who's getting with the prettiest girl in his house but he doesn't wanna be a total loser at kissing yk? So what's better than making you, his best bro, practice with him?

Obviously, with some trepidation, you do it and he loves it so much he chases after your lips even after you move away to critique him (imagine sitting on a couch w him and you move away from his lips to talk about what he does wrong but all he does is push you shoulders back until your back is flush with the couch just so he could keep kissing you)

Anyway, this slowly escalates into him getting a boner and rubbing it on your groin, begging you to "help me out bro"

Then after a week of practicing he gets with his dream girl and the kissing was a success, so was the blowjob she gave him! But he accidentally said your name while doing it and he blew it!

(Op you can choose how this ends)

Kissing - M.R. x male!Reader

A/N: Hehe this was fun to write. Difficult, but so much fun. I really really hope the smut is good 😬 The fix is unedited with no use of Y/N. If the ending seems a little weird, I’m sorry. I was really tired when I wrote it

This is the start of Mattheo’s bi awakening. Why? Because I said so

Fic does contain smut so NO MINORS!!

CW: Smut!!!; begging; Mattheo’s puppy eyes; Reader is in love with Mattheo; mentions of kissing; female oc; kissing; lots of kissing; making out; explicit sexual content; swearing; public sex; grinding; more begging; handjobs; cum; brief sweet moment; somewhat interrupted sex, I guess?; sex jokes; vague descriptions of blowjobs; several uses of the word ‘gay’; Mattheo doesn’t understand his feelings; Matty is a horny boy; mildly ambiguous ending; this takes place in Mattheo and Reader’s seventh year of school, so they’re both of age!!

1853 words

“C’mon, mate,” Mattheo begs, pulling you yet again from your homework. “It’s for a good cause!”

You look up, mildly annoyed.

The two of you are in the empty Slytherin common room, the last students there for the night. Everyone else is either sleeping or out partying.

It’s just the two of you, and Mattheo is set on annoying you.

He’s your best friend; your other half, so to speak. It’s been this way for almost seven years. He’s the yin to your yang, the fire to your calm.

Which he’s disrupting pretty majorly right now.

You exhale slowly, putting down your quill. “Just ask Pansy. Or Daphne. They’re good kissers, right?”

Mattheo groans and leans into you, giving you his best puppy eyes. The ones you can never say no to. “Please? I don’t trust them like I trust you. You won’t make fun of me or hold it over me like they will.”

He’s getting vulnerable, which means he’s being serious. Damn him.

You sigh and force yourself to look away. “Matty…”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear! Besides, it’s not like, you know, we’re in love or anything. It’s just a kiss or two.”

And that is the entire problem. Because you are very much in love with him.

You’ve been pining after him since second year. Practically ever since you became friends. You’ve been head over heels for him, utterly and truly in love.

And he has no idea.

Which is why to him, asking you for kissing practice isn’t a big deal.

It’s all Seraphina Selwyn’s fault. She’s undeniably the prettiest Slytherin in your year, if not the whole school.

And out of all the boys she decided she wanted to have, she had to pick yours.

Her and Mattheo have been flirting for months. And she’s finally started to show signs that she’s ready for him to make a move.

He’s been giddy about it since it happened, gushing about it every time he’s alone with you. It just makes you feel sick.

But you can’t let him down, especially not when he’s giving you those oh so sad puppy eyes you can’t resist.

With a sigh, you nod. “Fine. But only a few kisses. Wouldn’t want anyone spreading any rumors about us.”

It hurts to say. But you can’t let him know.

Mattheo grins and scoots closer. “Alright! Teach me how to kiss, oh wise one.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. He’s so dorky sometimes. “Just… come here.”

You reach out and gently guide his head to yours. You pause for a moment, mouth right above his.

Are you really going to do this?

To your surprise, it’s Mattheo who leans the rest of the way in. He presses his mouth to yours in a clumsy kiss.

It feels like sparks go down your spine. You shiver, eyes closing.

Mattheo kisses you like he’s hungry, like your mouth is a feast and he’s ravenous for it. He’s clumsy and eager, but has enough common sense to not try and shove his tongue down your throat.

You try to slow the kiss down. To show him how to move his mouth and such. It works… sort of.

After several kisses, you try and pull back. Not far, but just enough so you can give him some advice.

He chases after you. Leaning further into you in order to press his lips to yours again.

“Matty—“

He pushes your shoulders back, pressing you back against the arm of the couch. And you?

Your entire body lights up with sparks as he slides partway onto your lap. You can feel your dick twitch underneath him and for a moment you panic. He’s gonna feel you!

But Mattheo only moans softly and continues kissing you. He shifts his position on your lap, resting his hands on your chest for support.

You melt into the kiss, letting your lips part and your body relax. You can’t help it. This could be your only chance ever to kiss Mattheo; and if he’s into it, you’re not gonna complain.

Mattheo’s tongue slips into your mouth and you forget why you ever wanted to pull away in the first place.

The two of you make out for what feels like hours. Just mouth pressed to mouth, tongues gliding together. You pull back a couple times to breathe, and Mattheo always chases your mouth with his.

It’s hot. Painfully so. You’re made aware of your hard-on every time Mattheo shifts in your lap.

You know he can feel it. You brace yourself, preparing for the moment he mentions it. But he seems too caught up in kissing you to care.

He shifts again and makes a small noise. An almost groaning sound. You feel yourself throb when you realize he’s just as hard as you.

His cock, pressed right alongside yours.

He groans again and grinds his dick against yours. “Fuck, you feel so good…!”

You moan, giving a little thrust up against his hips. “Matty…”

He captures your mouth with his, taking the chance to lick against your tongue again. You melt into the kiss once more, unable to help yourself.

The two of you make out with more passion now, grinding against each other.

Mattheo’s movements start to get more desperate. More hungry. He’s practically humping your dick, panting and moaning into your mouth.

“Please,” he finally begs. “I need you.”

You bite down a groan, struggling to think straight. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

“Please? Just this once, I swear!” He’s giving you his puppy eyes again. “Help me out, just this once?”

You can’t help it. He’s so hot and you’re so weak to his puppy eyes.

“Alright. But only this once.”

You fumble with his belt, clumsily working with one hand to undo it. When you finally manage to slip your hand into his pants, Mattheo whines.

You close your hand around his dick, giving him as good of a stroke as you can within the confines of his clothes. He groans and presses into your touch, his dick twitching and throbbing under your hand.

You shift and squirm a bit until you manage to free him, finally able to stroke him like you’re wanting.

Mattheo moans like a porn star, thrusting into your hand eagerly. Greedily. He’s practically jerking himself off with your hand.

And you love it.

You match his pace, shifting your grip every now and then until you find what makes his hips stutter.

“I can’t—“ He sounds absolutely wrecked. “I’m gonna—“

“Come on,” you groan, your dick a weeping mess at the sight. “Cum for me, Matty.”

Mattheo thrusts into your hand once, twice, and cums. Hot sticky ropes of white paint your shirt and pants.

It’s too hot for you to even be upset.

“Merlin, Matty,” you breathe. “That was hot.”

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and pants out a laugh. For a moment, he just basks in your presence. Nuzzling against your neck like he’s gonna say something soft.

Then the sound of faint laughter breaks the spell. People are coming.

You hastily mutter a cleaning charm while Mattheo frantically tucks himself away. You both know you can’t deal with any rumors about the two of you being together.

By the time the drunken partygoers spill into the common room, the two of you are sitting up on the couch again. No evidence of what transpired at all.

Except for maybe your still hard dick, which you use your notebook to hide. You’ll take care of it later.

As people slowly head off to bed, you start to gather your things. Mattheo grabs your arm before you can leave.

“Can—“ He falters for a moment. “Same time tomorrow? I need more practice still.”

You hesitate. But only for a moment. “Sure. We can meet up in my dorm. It’ll be empty then.”

Mattheo nods, acting for all the world like you two are talking about a homework study session. You can see the gleam in his eyes though. He’s just as excited as you.

You head off to bed with your heart pounding. You and Mattheo. Kissing practice tomorrow.

You have no doubts what it’ll turn into again. And oh Merlin, are you looking forward to it.

One week later

“I blew it!” Mattheo barges into your room without knocking, startling you.

“Blew what? Who did you blow?” You sit up, curious and confused.

“Not who.” He rolls his eyes, unable to help a tiny smirk, even in his distress. “It. My relationship.”

“Oh.” That makes more sense. “With Selwyn? What did you do?”

He groans and slumps to the floor, sitting at the base of your bed. “So everything’s going great, right? The mood is there, the kissing’s fantastic; we’re getting it on, you know?”

You nod, listening intently.

“And then she goes to blow me, which is, you know, pretty awesome.”

Mattheo covers his face, clearly embarrassed by the next words he says. “And I fuckin’ say your name!”

You blink. Once. Twice. “What?”

“I say your fucking name in the middle of getting a blowjob!” He groans and lowers his head in shame. “It just slipped out. You know, coz of all our practice.”

Ah, yes. You’d given him several enthusiastic blowjobs during your week of ‘kissing practice’.

“Huh.” You lean back on your hands a bit, thinking. “So, did she break up with you?”

“No,” he groans. “But now she’s convinced I’m gay, and I don’t know what to do.”

You try really hard not to laugh. Of course she’d think that. Even when it was obviously not true. Mattheo was whipped for her. You were just an afterthought. Kissing practice.

“Well, is she still willing to date you?”

“Yes,” he grumbles. “But she’s as big of a gossip queen as anyone else. The whole school will soon think I’m in love with you. Which I’m not.”

You pat his shoulder consolingly. It hurts to hear him deny it, but you both know it’s true. Mattheo’s not in love with you, and will never be in love with—

“At least,” He suddenly looks doubtful. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

You blink. He’s… only pretty sure…?

“Saying your name during sex doesn’t mean I’m in love with you, right?”

You stare at him. “I think our kissing practice would sooner qualify.”

“Oh.” He relaxes. “Well, that doesn’t count at all. That’s just you helping me out, you know?”

“Yeah.” You nod slowly. “Right.”

“So that settles it then.” Mattheo nods. “I’m not gay. It was just an accident.”

You’re suddenly no longer sure. But you don’t say anything. He has a girlfriend now, for Merlin’s sake. You can’t crush their relationship off of doubt.

“Whatever you say.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while. Then Mattheo gets up. He stretches a bit, and glances down at you.

You can already see the gleam in his eye.

“Just out of curiosity, though…”

You sigh and pat the bed next to you.

Looks like your kissing practice isn’t over yet.

[sealofarchives]

Oneshot scenario: Merfolk!reader with the turtles (separate)

Just something for a mermay themed prompt while trying to think of other stuff to write

Warnings: the slight mention of drowning (just a brief topic again nothing too graphic)

(I forgot the exact concept art picture from one of the scrapped episodes where Mikey went all out for a mermaid costume for a distraction but, surprisingly it helped while trying to brainstorm ideas for the other scenarios lol)

Soupful Confessions

In the lair, close to the living room...

You were about take another spoonful of clam chowder soup. While your fish tail sat on one of the steps a surface level in a large aquarium tank filled with water. You placed the soup bowl by the makeshift table beside you. Then swam towards the box shell turtle pacing around a few distance away from the tank.

Before you could ask, Mikey immediately squeaked startled by your sudden appearance.

"Oh (Y/N)! Was the soup okay?"

"Mikey, I'll pretty much eat anything you make. Sorry for scaring you."

"Is something on your mind? You almost made a lap walking around my tank."

"Well... Despite that short-staffed situation during a surf and turf event near the Run of the Mill pizzeria..."

"I'm still excited that I made friends with you and a few other merpeople!"

You winced with a fake smile before going back to the soup filled bowl.

"I mostly tagged along with that group for a discount on seafood pizza."

"I couldn't stomach the idea of eating turtles, let alone ones who were brave enough to serve an angry mob of hungry merpeople."

"Yeah... I still think we were pretty lucky that we based off the menu from a few of dad's old movies. Clam chowder being one of those."

You blinked surprised at the soup then back to Mikey.

"Any clue why he doesn't like talking about clam chowder?"

"Because I tried bringing it up and he just avoids the question with something else."

Mikey only shrugged while playing around with his orange bandana tails.

"He told us only criminals like that movie but, Cassandra turned over a new leaf because of his words of wisdom."

"Maybe, something terrible happened during the making of the movie so, it might have been that..."

You hummed understanding that reasoning. Then held the bowl to drink what's left out of the almost empty soup. Mikey gulped as you perched your arms content with the meal.

"Hopefully its not too weird to ask but, are you free to be a muse?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I had a few sketches for some disguises especially with the mermaid theme in mind but..."

"I didn't want to offend you if some of the designs are in poor taste..."

You couldn't help but, giggle at Mikey as you placed the bowl on his head.

"So you want feedback from me? Sure, I don't bite."

"But, take it easy when you decide to use said distraction in action."

"I wouldn't want that cute face of yours getting hurt."

Mikey blushed as you winked at him and hurried off to get dessert. Unfortunately for him, his brothers also saw the incident and appeared with teasing grins, casually hanging around the kitchen like nothing happened.

Old and New Memories

In the turtle tank...

Donnie spoke up with a sigh.

"You know its impolite to stare at someone for a long period of time..."

"Oh sorry, a while ago, I got stuck with helping one of my classmates for something in Witch Town."

"That place still mentions you-"

"Being the infamous scientist turtle who scoffed at anything magic related and destroyed the center piece statue during an important ceremony."

Donnie felt an imaginary arrow hitting his head as he winced while you continued to talk.

"But still, you made a long way from being stubborn about mystic magic."

"And gained some understanding of it through your way of approaching things."

You fidgeted one of the charms added to the custom made backpack (courtesy of the purple turtle himself) to avoid the tedious process. Carrying a large jug of water when there's no aquarium tank around.

Donnie faked cough now regaining his composure as you looked back at him.

"Accidental destruction of property was the more correct term to describe it..."

"At that time, I was more focused proving April wrong that she didn't need help from those witches."

"Also, there is no way I'm setting foot near that place if they still talk about me in that matter."

"I was already greeted with the angry mob gathering pitchforks and torches when I tried to apologize for my actions."

Donnie crossed his arms as you lightly puffed one of your cheeks.

"On a lighter note, I found out some of my classmates grew up with parents who are big fans of Splinter's movies."

"And..."

You held up a conch shell device and played a recording from its string.

"Do you think we'll turn heads if we change the purple one's wanted poster in a light tone similar to the splitting image of Lou Jitsu?"

"I already heard stories how the former star dedicates his life to raising four turtles and..."

"The purple one can easily get away with anything for having such dashing looks-"

You immediately held the string down with blush surfacing an annoyed look on your face.

"It slowly started an argument on which of you was the best Lou Jitsu look-a-like."

"So the fan club forgot to start the project..."

"But still, at least you have me and a few other fans by your side."

Your fish-fin ears fluttered a bit taking notice of Donnie's smirk.

"While I'm flattered by that girl's comment, I only assume you haven't thought of the idea towards a surprise meet and greet."

"Or you don't like the thought of her dating me..."

The blush deepened your face as you looked away.

"I think she'll be more disappointed that you aren't into pda and hugs."

You felt Donnie's arms pulling you into a hug now sitting on his lap.

"Given the nature of my happy go lucky family members, I just give in to the hugs. However, for you."

"I'm willing to make some amends towards my soon to be partner's needs..." On the back of Donnie's mind was slight panic. With the realization that you look really cute sitting there. And how, he got a closer look at your face.

A Merfolk That Can't Sing?!

Near a rooftop pool close to 10 pm... (Totally not trespassing says the red slider turtle)

Your face sank halfway into the chlorinated water. Attempting to hide the embarrassed feeling as Leo immediately sat up.

"Wait, for eel? I always thought it comes naturally that most merpeople can just lure anyone in by a wonderful singing voice."

You laid on your aquatic back, letting the water glide you across the lightly dimmed pool. With a whine at Leo's fishy oneliners.

"Not me, my parents tried to get help and it didn't even work."

"I already don't like the thought of it being associated with drowning..."

"I almost forgot about that part but, the reason I brought the singing was more towards..."

"Donnie was playing a game where sirens sang during a boss fight."

"I don't know much about metal but, the song surprisingly blends well with the siren singing."

"Okay? I still don't get what you're trying to say."

"I don't want to sound like Dr Feelings but, if you have a favorite song you'd usually like to hum to."

"Maybe try that, since you don't seem happy trying to fit into the scary siren image.

Leo saw you hesitated for a bit but shrugged, now lazily laying on your stomach.

"I'll think about it but, thanks for the brief pep talk."

"Well if you feel up to a small karaoke battle, you know who to call!"

You held back laughing at him in an attempt to hide the blush on your face.

"You almost fell off the turtle taxi proudly winning the previous karaoke battle during a late night beach party."

Leo's confident smile quickly faded into embarrassment. As he immediately placed one of his beach hats on your head. Causing you to sit up to avoid damaging the hat.

"It still counted as a victory for me. We weren't expecting anyone to be up around that time."

"Let alone a surprise visit from a merfolk."

You blushed at the water's reflection, wearing Leo's straw beach hat. A tiny bit of regret deepened the blush as you caught sight of his slow smirk.

"Did my singing actually lure you in?~"

Your fish fin lightly splashed water near his face as you looked away.

"The turtle tank caused a tiny rumor about a turtle with a taxi on its shell"

"I don't think Donnie would be happy about making his prized vehicle open to the public."

Leo wiped the water off his face with a spare towel as he got off the chaise lounge chair.

"I still think I lured you in."

"It just happened to be in good timing, with Donnie making small tests to the turtle tank."

Your fish tail sat by the pool step ladders as you sighed.

"Just don't add any love songs to the playlist or I might curse you for a week."

"I can probably handle whatever hex you throw at me but, I'll still give you dibs on picking the first few songs.

"Just so I have somewhat an idea of what songs you're into."

Ever since he got you to laugh at some of his jokes, the red slider turtle believes you have that merpeople charm in you.

Early Morning Seaside Chit Chat

Close to early sunrise by the Hidden City beach.

The turtle tank was parked a few distance away from the volunteer vendor booth that usually helps with clean up, trash, and protecting wildlife. However, the daily weekend event usually starts in around 9 or 10 am.

Raph could see the groggy eyebags on your face as you struggled to stay awake, resting your arms above the aquarium tank.

"We brought some snacks that should last until lunch."

"So try to eat something so you don't accidentally chomp on a seagull."

You snatched a family sized bag of chips from the snack pile. With a brief thanks as Raph sat across from you.

"I scared off some birds from last year's sea turtle hatching tour."

"I'll be fine."

Raph bit into a piece of jerky as he rolled his eyes.

"That one pink heron almost knocked you into the sea if we didn't step in to help."

"Mikey almost saw a baby turtle getting pecked to death."

"That's the only time I pick fights with any of those birds."

Raph muttered a sigh under his breath as you pouted.

"Okay I'll admit, we didn't want to see that but..."

"I'm surprised how you convinced Donnie and the volunteers to set up a eco friendly barrier for those baby turtles."

You smiled a bit biting into another chip as you spoke.

You guys still helped, spreading the word through cute flyer posters and a tiny fundraiser for a good cause."

Raph lightened up with his toothy grin as he chuckled.

"So, no secret plan to get revenge on that bird."

"I mean Donnie was almost thinking about it, until he got praised with so many compliments displaying his work to the staff."

"Oh, so Donnie didn't have some speech with how cruel nature is and just went with your idea."

You accidentally yawned with an annoyed expression on your face.

"He did but, life is already like that sometimes."

"And not to bring down the mood but, you four would have been just regular turtles if it weren't for Splinter stepping in to protect you guys from being Draxum's super soldiers..."

Raph hummed briefly looking down at the half empty plastic bag.

"I don't think I could fit in with the other alligator snapping turtles."

"I had a lot of weird moments not realizing its a solitary thing and its just not for me."

Raph looked up after hearing you chuckle.

"You could easily win a few over just from your gentle smile."

"Showing off your strength is one thing but, your level of honesty."

"Its almost too sweet that it could blind the competition."

The alligator snapping turtle blushed at your compliments.

"If this is your way of wanting that expensive seafood buffet for lunch, I'm not budging..."

"Awww, but I saved up enough money for a really good couple's discount~..."

Raph eventually caved in to the offer after most of the baby sea turtles safely made it to watery shore. However, to your surprise, the two of you sat in one table alone. With the blush beginning to appear on your face as the waiter took his order.

[lovethetasteofnothing]

Hello! If you can, I would like a headcanon of Task 141 with a tiktoker s/o and see them doing a dance, you know, some tiktok trends. Thank you so much! <3

my apologies for this being so late, i haven't touched tiktok for months and have no idea what trends are currently popular

the clock app vs task force 141 | price, ghost, gaz, soap

includes: captain john price; simon "ghost" riley; kyle "gaz" garrick; johnny "soap" mactavish

gn!reader, gender neutral terms of endearment

warnings: nsfw content, mentions of breeding kink (implied), brief smutty descriptions, horny jokes (it's all in price's hcs)

word count: 1k, aprox. 250 words/ character

Captain Price

is so confused every time you start recording, like what are you doing?

you were just laying in his arms and decided to film a cute little tiktok because you wanted to join in the trend with your lovely husband

you looked back at it and you knew you couldn't post it, this man had the most confused face the whole time

"youngsters these days..." before picking your phone out of your hand and demanding cuddles

you tried on multiple occasions to show him tiktoks that you found funny

he just stared blankly, trying to figure out what you found funny at them

but you show him one dad humor tiktok and he's daying laughing??

watches tiktoks over your shoulder while you cuddle him

since he won't do trends with you, you might as well do them alone

so you decided to record a very pg 13 lies tiktok trend in front of him

just to spite him

we can all agree he has a breeding kink, yes? good luck with that mating press, soldier

and because you love him so much and respect his opinion so dearly, you ask him opinions on which tiktoks you should post

doesn't see the point of this but is supportive nonetheless

you use the opposite of what he chooses, sorry pop

until you accidentally stumble across some older thirst traps you recorded

he just stares at you, makes you send them to him

for safe keeping yk

Simon "Ghost" Riley

THIS MAN REFUSES TO USE TIKTOK BUT HE WATCHES REELS

"tiktok is for kids, luv" you just stare at him in disbelief for a minute (in my mind he's like early 30s)

you tried to explain that it's almost the same thing-

pretended not to hear you and went on with his day

but oh it's no longer a kid's app when you started doing the dancing trends

literally watches you doing them from the corner of the room

"you're not posting that, are you?"

he'd probably take your phone and delete it for safety but he doesn't know how to

you also try and make him do couple trends

random stage fright where he just 🕴️and doesn't move at all

confuses you because you have seen him scold a whole group of recruits before and then bark out orders to them with no problem

but you put a little phone with some music on it in front of him and he just error 404s

god forbid you have one good attempt and put this man on the internet

you dragged him into ONE trend and the video went viral

never again, you had to turn off comments

didn't even show him because... i mean we know, you're not feeding his ego any more today

its already so high, he doesn't need to see the step on me daddy comments

he also watches tiktoks over your shoulder, tells you to slow down because you're swiping too fast and he can't read

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

type of person to have cooking videos appear when he's hungry and can't eat (me)

also type of guy who has random facts on his fyp but he actually goes to check if they're accurate

he either sends you 20 tiktoks in five minutes or 3 in two weeks

he actually does send you good tiktoks, i'll give him that

fairly normal feed (for your standards at least)

he'd argue with people in the comments about random misinformation

does cute tiktok trends with you

makes you get all dressed up for them because he wants everyone to know what a cute partner he has

i feel like he'd have a fairly large number of followers just because he's a man in uniform-

you both giggle at the simping in his comments

kisses you while telling you you're the only one who can have him

posts you so so much because he just loves to have little memories with you in his posts

i feel like he does the different outfit trends with you

overdressed bf x overdressed partner energy

knows all of the slang, trends, sounds and references them randomly

they appear on his feed before they do on yours

randomly pulls you aside and uses those "which blank are you" filters

redoes them because he's not happy with his result, also goes into a random analysis as to why it doesn't match him

"it's just a filter, kyle" you tell him because he won't stop until he gets his favorite thing

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

this man right here sends the wackiest tiktoks with no explanation

like you just wake up with 10 tiktoks in five different genres and one of them is a poorly edited 3d animation (iykyk)

and if you ask him he just says it's funny???

also the type of person to find random misinformation about his field of work and send it to you complaining

doesn't last long

he finds another weird video and sends it right after the rant

starts recording randomly while you're talking to him

you don't notice until he shoves the phone in your face and records you mid sentence

he loves to see you doing trends (went wild for American horror show when you did it)

this man learned the dance with you and did it better

biggest fan of you posting thrist traps

there's just something about knowing that other guys are thirsting over you but he's the only one who can have you

helps you pick the best one to post and reads the comments with you

makes you post a couple tiktok right after, his account tagged and everything

has the weirdest profile pic and username

that plank/pushup training filter that was trending a while ago?

he did it like five times to impress you, makes you watch each one and give him your opinions

doesn't post anything, lets you do the bragging

he and gaz stole your phone once and recorded like 20 tiktoks with the same sound

all of them were showing how they almost burned you guys' kitchen down

they were used as proof against them

divider cred: @/cafekitsune

[unproduciblesmackdown]

um hello excuse me i just listened to that teenage dirtbag video and now i have no choice other than to ask you... what is up. that voice was lovely, the range the performer had when switching to the girl's role i?? hello??? so is this the uh... god um. dear evan hansen or the uhhhh oh my god sorry im typing as im thinking this is hell. the other one. be more chill? i have some friends into these things but never paid much attention but after that vid my inch rest is how do you say, Peaked.

it just hit me that the right word was actually 'piqued' rip me

hahahaha yeah i can tell you All About It.....see my origin story is that uh. fuckin uh right so i vaguely knew deh existed back when it was broadway-debuting at the end of 2016 and probably many of us were vaguely aware it existed, but then in the next summer (2017) i heard a cover of one of its songs and i was like “i can tell this is one of those songs that would be given way more context if i knew the plot” and by that point the wikipedia entry had a plot summary available and i got that context and even though he was fairly briefly mentioned, one of the side characters Piqued My Interest b/c i just knew like. aha that already feels like a character type i would rly latch on to. and this was in the back of my mind for a while and for like the next year i would intermittently check out another song or two or get a little bit more lore, but it wasn’t until like, fall 2018 i finally went “you know what, i am gonna dive in for Maximum Lore actually” and my motivation for doing this was cuz i wanted to find out all the info about The One Side Character lmfao, like, the “main plot” and “entire actual show” to me is just the Lore for him basically b/c that was truly my angle hahaha and my interest was further piqued b/c like i quickly went “oh so he’s secretly in love with the protagonist right, got it,” which like. was a latent vibe i got from that very first wikipedia plot summary readthrough tbh lmfao. and is True.

and then even after deciding to dig into the lore and confirming that Yes i love this character as i thought i would it took like another week or two before i ever like, Watched dear evan hansen lmfaooo and i’ve never stopped complaining about the show since ljdfs but not Not b/c the character isn’t as good as i thought (or b/c Nothing Else is good either, but. you know how it is. #canon 9_9 ) and then in the course of looking for More Content i was you know, looking at a variety of posts On Here and looking at some behind-the-scenes / bonus content type stuff on youtube and went “oh well hey the actor that plays that character i love is also a nice funny guy according to testimony and also that i like his vibe in these vids” and, fun fact as is the nature of live theatre (and it being like, oct / nov 2018 by then) he was not still the Current actor for said character but had, in fact, moved on to be more chill and Already Completed a late summer off-broadway run as the lead (and a bway run had been announced already, though im not Certain i remember the point / how i became aware of this lol).....which again, i too had Heard Of (and had once ages prior coincidentally leafed thru the book once and read a few excerpts but knew nothing abt anything beyond that).....but hilariously while i Knew he was in bmc thru some 101 research, i was like “okay i’ll move on to that in a sec” while focusing on deh for a while still b/c it was not until i happened to casually look up “okay so what does his character do in this show i’m completely unfamiliar with” that i went “oh fuck he’s the LEAD????!!!” lmaooo like i did Not realize this and that upped my urgency abt it

a very very broad description of bmc is that it’s a Fun Show coz it’s this teen scifi Magical Realism plotline classic musical comedy type of thing, a genre we all already know and love lol /j, and importantly, the music is fuckinggg Bops. very common “gateway drug” is This song. there’s an Original Broadway Cast Album all on youtube (and, somewhat confusingly im sure, an Original Cast Album, but that was an off-off-bway run, and i’m interested squarely in the off-bway and bway versions lmfao, so, and that is what one will get recommended from me (more updated versions of all the songs anyways)) and also, this is basically a tangential thought i had but circling back around to deh, My Guy (will roland as jared kleinman) does not actually get all that much singing material in the show (v different situation from be more chill) even in the song that features his character most heavily, but that song also happens to be the most fun song in deh and also a bop, and here’s an especially fun live performance to check out if u wanna, the other two dudes are not official cast members lmfao but still

and like, when all this deh-ing and enthusiastic bmc-ing (which i got into Just In Time to be following along with its broadway run, which was very fun to do) affirmed like boy i love this Actor’s Material for sure, i did a little digging into his nicher Credits, including, one fateful day in march, his tv credits, which meant i like stumbled across the fact he has this recurring role in Billions(tm) and that stumbling = immediately falling flat on my face b/c i Loved the content and we coincidentally got really into it Just In Time before the next season’s stuff started airing with him in it, and that was truly an Experience we’ve been having ever since. that’s it’s own insane tangent b/c this show is fucking Something Else but, jsyk, since i am talking about “billions” left and right and stuff, that’s the vague context for that. latched onto a character -> the actor -> the actor’s other stuff, and that [other stuff] is getting brought up around here a lot, especially billions.....we’re having fun and following our hearts with it lmao

i’m Not Great at finding a balance between “doing an elaborate lore dump when someone asks me ‘what’s X about?’ and i spend the next several hours just play by play walking them through the whole thing” and “trying to avoid doing that where i get Too In Depth and instead end up just overly glossing over it all and they’re like ‘that doesn’t give me any info :/’” but i Can and Will talk more in depth about any of this stuff b/c yeah........but between deh and bmc, i definitely like bmc more Overall and....in the specifics of it too.....and like the obcr way better......and uh Everything about it better lmfaooo but i also love the particular characters Jared and Alana, side character teens in deh, so im always about That as well..........but if u were like “hm which might i look into a little first,” i gotta say like, i like bmc better both as a matter of My Personal Taste and from a more critical standpoint of “what is the show meant to be / does it accomplish what it wants to” type stuff. even though deh is the critical darling lmfao go figure! *i* decide what’s good, actually, and as we all know, i’m correct and a genius. which, haha im joking, but i Am right and i Am not Not smart in ways lol

aaaaaaand yeah additionally like. can and will answer Any more particular questions about any of this shit b/c, it’s my shit, and you know how i roll

and p.s. glad you liked the Teenage Dirtbag it is such a good performance lol. naturally getting real into this one actor / singer’s shit means that there’s also stuff Outside [performing a particular role] which is still some sweet sweet content, such as other solo performances during a concert / cabaret stuff.....the lore is Very Rich and is V Good so it’s fun

[longlivefanfic-net]

Banished&Bloody: Eddie the Banished

Fic Summary: Post-Volume II. Eddie Munson wasn't dead when he was left in the Upside Down; well, he wasn't dead anymore. Steve Harrington has spent the days since they came back to Hawkins haunted by the idea that he could have saved Eddie--or at least died in his place. It quickly becomes clear that the Hawkin's group has to go back to the Upside Down and, when they do, they find an unfamiliar face. Vampire!Eddie Munson, Grieving Steve Harrington.

Chapter Summary/Content: Chapter 1 of 8. Eddie wakes up in the Upside Down and realizes he has to get back to Hawkins. Mentions of blood, grief, brief suicide mention. Extra angsty.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Listen. Listen. I want Vampire! Eddie so fucking bad. But I am also absolutely terrified of him. Also, writing this made me tear up bc this baby boy just deserved nice, happy things and instead he gets?? this?? This fic is going to be 8 chapters (I think), alternating Eddie/Steve POVs, and (should be) smut free (it just doesn't fit!!! idk! maybe I can work something in). I am also planning on still writing a few little smut pieces in between chapters (I have a Steve/Reader and Reader/Robin fic that I'm just waiting on my beta reader's response for before I post it)!!

Chapter One: Eddie the Banished

When Eddie’s eyes opened, the skies above him were black. He thought it was night, at first, then cloudy when he realized he couldn’t see any stars. When he saw the sky roiling overhead, he felt momentarily reassured. This wasn’t the first time he had gone on a bender and ended up waking outside, flat on his back in the woods or on a hill. But when streaks of lightning flashed the wrong way across the clouds, going straight across the throbbing mass of darkness instead of straight down, he recognized that he wasn’t in Hawkins–not the Hawkins he knew. He was somehow still in the other Hawkins, the one Dustin had called the “Upside Down,” like it was part of Hellfire nights instead of…this, this other, terrifying place Henderson and Wheeler and their friends had brought him to. Once he understood where he was, Eddie sat straight up, searching the darkness around him for his newfound group of friends. Surely, if he was here, the rest of them must be too; at least, Harrington or Buckley or Wheeler, the “adults” of the group he had so reluctantly joined, would still be here with him.

He was in the road of his trailer park, the Upside Down version of it, and–as he looked around him–he realized he was surrounded by a circle of demobats. None of them were moving. He sat, breath bated, watching for one of them to twitch, for the whole flock to suddenly jump up and swarm him, but they stayed where they were. He reached out, slowly, and gingerly poked the one closest to him. When it didn’t move, he looked, quickly, his eyes jumping from corpse to corpse, at the limp bodies surrounding him. Surely this was a sign of Vecna’s fall, a sign that Harrington had made good on his promise and made him pay, a sign that they were all safe. But no one else appeared. It seemed like he was alone. Eddie couldn’t understand it–if he was there, in this Upside Down Hawkins, where was everyone else? Had he been taken, grabbed like Harrington in the lake and dragged through a gate? He wracked his memory, still lying on the cool ground while he kept a careful ear out for any hints of approaching bats–or the other creatures Henderson had mentioned, the demogorgons, or dogs, or any of the other crazy shit he had thought only existed in tabletop games two weeks ago. The last thing he could remember–barely, the memory dark and fuzzy around the edges–was Henderson’s face hovering over his, tears running down over his nose to splatter on Eddie’s face. 

It was an odd memory. Eddie couldn’t place it, couldn’t link it to anything else. Why would Dustin have been crying? Why did he remember Dustin holding him up, trying to pull him to standing, and oh God, why did he remember a ripping pain through his side when Dustin pulled at his skin? What the fuck was that, that memory of agony splitting through his body as he choked on hot liquid pooling in his mouth? Eddie carefully, slowly, reached his fingers down to his torso and brushed them over his skin, searching out an answer for the question this blurry half-memory created. He found nothing. There were ragged holes in his shirt, sure, but the skin underneath it felt fine, almost hard to his touch. The strange memory must be some Vecna thing, one of those false creations Red–Max, he corrected himself–had tried to explain to him: his skin was fine, his body still whole under his probing hands. He was not choking, his body was not in pieces, he wasn’t being held by Dustin while he promised to look after the kids in Hawkins who were a little too much like the two of them, a little too weird to fly under the radar. Whatever had created that memory of splitting pain through his skin, the fear and pain were gone now. In fact, Eddie almost couldn’t believe how good he felt as he sat in the deserted road. To have woken up here in the Upside Down with no memory of how he got there he would have assumed something was wrong, but his body felt fine–hell, maybe even better than when he first crossed the gate in his ceiling, exhausted and starving from running for his life from Chrissy’s body, from the cops, from Jason and his friends, from bats and creatures he couldn’t even envision. He felt rested, his muscles light under his skin, and his mind was working faster than it seemed like it ever had before, even when he had tried that shit that Rick had promised would help him finally focus on one specific thing long enough to get to graduation. He had been surviving on nothing but the cheap beer and junk food Harrington had brought him for too long, and his body had felt close to giving up even before he had flipped, head over heels, into the Upside Down. 

On the thought of his previous days of starving, he did feel a slow sensation building in his core. A hunger was gnawing at his sides, but it was different, not like his normal hunger. Hunger was far from being a completely unknown feeling to Eddie Munson: he had felt hunger when he had still been living with his dad, just a kid who had gone too many days without a real meal; he had felt hunger when he smoked some of the weed he was supposed to be selling, a deep gnawing need for whatever comfort food he could get his hands on. This hunger was different: it was more of a slinking feeling, a physical need accompanied by an emotional sensation he couldn’t put words to. It reminded him of how he felt when he thought about Corroded Coffin breaking out of Hawkins, making a name for themselves with a rush and flush of skin; it reminded him of that sinking pit in his stomach that opened within him every time another test he hadn’t studied for ended up on the desk in front of him and he thought to himself that he should be able to turn in his D&D quests for his writing projects instead of these damn analysis essays; it reminded him of how longing for another person would slide it’s way into his heart late at night sometimes and soak through his frame, filling his head with images of someone wrapping their arms around his neck or brushing his hair smooth against his head. This ache in his stomach, this hunger, made his throat constrict too, made his nostrils flare as he acknowledged it. Mixtures of sadness, of desire, of longing, met with a need through his whole body and, suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the sharp, metallic stink of blood. Eddie suddenly remembered where he was. The smell of blood could be anything, could be a creeping monster coming nearer to finish him off after dragging him here in the first place. Nervous, he slowly, gingerly put his feet under himself and stood up. 

Eddie’s body felt different–he felt stronger, lighter on his feet. As he looked around himself in the cool, dark constant night of the Upside Down, he swallowed against the tightness in his throat. The smell of blood seemed to be coming from the slick stains on the ground around him. Patches of darkness spilled over the road, and some of it–closer to savaged remains of demobats–was darker, thicker. Eddie looked down at himself, noting the bright red smears over his clothes and drying along his arms. Hurriedly, he tried to wipe the gore from his slick palms, patting his jeans and ragged shirt but his hands only came away damper, more blood coming from his clothes. It must have been because he was laying in it, Eddie thought, trying to find a single part of him that would clean his hands. In his frantic search, an unbidden thought came to him: that play he had to read his second Senior year, where the wife (or was she a Queen? Whatever) had dreamed about blood on her hands. She had scrubbed her hands in water, yelling “Out, out damned spot!” He remembered because it was the first time he’d ever heard a teacher swear in class, and everyone had giggled. He felt like her now, madly cleaning his hands. “Out,” he hissed between his teeth, finally rubbing his hands on the inside of his jeans pockets. This seemed to work–his hands felt cleaner, at least. Whoever’s blood he was soaked in–his stomach curdled at the thought–had covered him so thoroughly he didn’t know if they would have lived. 

He took stock of the carnage around him, trying to put the pieces together to explain the sheer amount of blood under his feet. Fuck, he hoped it wasn’t from any of his friends. If it was Dustin– He couldn’t even finish the thought. He refused to lose that kid. Eddie looked around, searching for even the slightest hint of proof that someone else was still out there with him. When he couldn’t find it, he decided they must have taken whoever was injured–more injured than him, since he was just passed out–back to safety. They must be back at the trailer, he thought. He should get to the trailer. Stepping around the dark, fallen corpses of the bats on the ground, he made his way down the road, keeping to the shadows of the other trailers. He would make it back to the trailer and find his friends, he was sure of it, and then they would go back to Hawkins–the real Hawkins–and he could clear his name, tell the police he hadn’t even been around when Nancy’s friend got killed, and he and his uncle would buy a new trailer and be safe. He could graduate. He could finally leave Hawkins and move on with his life. He felt renewed, a sense of vigor coursing through his bloodstream as he snuck trailer to trailer up to his own. 

When he swung the door open, he half expected to see the lights on, his friends in a circle around his stained mattress on the floor, all cheering for him like the Hellfire club had when they finished his most recent campaign. His heart thudded against his chest painfully when he saw no one inside. The mattress was gone–he vaguely remembered moving it himself, trying to keep Henderson from following him as he went back to buy Steve, Nancy, and Robin safety for a little while longer. The half of the rope he remembered cutting was still on the floor, one of the old chairs he and his uncle ate dinner in replacing it in the middle of the room. But when he looked up at the ceiling, the undulating vines had been–boarded over? That wasn’t possible. Scraps of wood–wood that looked suspiciously like pieces of Eddie’s uncle’s furniture, his dining table and maybe the end table he kept his alarm clock on–had been thrown over the opening on the right side of Hawkins. His eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand how the chunks of loose furniture could be above him, knowing they would have to be nailed or screwed or supported against the ceiling in the real Hawkins. Eddie stood on the chair, placing his hands against the wood, and shoved. It barely shifted. His body groaned, the unusual tightness in his throat burning again, and he shoved again, bracing his feet more soundly in the chair. However this shit was stuck to the ceiling, it should come loose easy enough but it didn’t move. Whatever had been piled against the wood, likely propping each piece in place in some sort of complicated manner only Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson could dream up, it was there firmly. 

Eddie climbed off the chair and looked around the room. If this blockage was in place, keeping anything from the Upside Down from getting back into his world, what did that mean for him? His stomach tightened into knots. Why would they leave him here? His friends were gone–that much was clear–but they had left him behind and, more than that, they had locked him out. How was he supposed to get back to them? Was he expected to get all the way back to the dry field of what was supposed to be Lover’s Lake and swim his way through a gate again? He had never been a strong swimmer, and he felt certain he wouldn’t make it through the watergate a second time without Robin pulling him along. And why were all of his friends gone? Did they–did they not want him to come back? Or…did they think he wouldn’t? Had they left him, passed out on the street, thinking he was dead? Oh God, oh fuck, if they thought he was dead they wouldn’t come back for him. They would go back to Hawkins and tell everyone he was dead; it would be just like when Nancy’s boyfriend’s kid brother had disappeared, the school making everyone going to an assembly to honor his life right before he had suddenly shown up again. His uncle Wayne’s face flashed in his mind, a memory from when Eddie was a little kid and had seen him sitting in the dark at the kitchen table, draining a beer, glimmering tear tracks running down his face and leaving giant, wet splotches along his work shirt. One of his friends, an old buddy, had died that night, had walked in front of a fucking train, but Eddie hadn’t known that then. He had stood in the doorframe between the hallway and the kitchen and watched his uncle sit at that table, lit only by the passing headlights that cut through the wide windows intermittently. Eddie had listened to him sob, had listened to muffled cries turn into heart wrenching choking sounds, and he had felt his own stomach curdle. It had been a relief when his uncle had finally put his head down on his arms, his sobs turning to gentle breathing as he fell asleep. Eddie never knew if his uncle had known that Eddie had watched him that night; he didn’t know if his uncle knew that every time Eddie really, really started to screw up he pulled back at the last second, thinking about his uncle making those sounds over him. 

And now that’s all Eddie could imagine. Somewhere, back in the Right Side of Hawkins, was his uncle sleeping on a kitchen table strewn with empty beer cans? Was he choking on his own sadness as it broke through his mouth, the way Eddie suddenly felt like he might? Or did Uncle Wayne think he was just missing, maybe on a bender with some of his friends like he had been before? The last time Eddie had disappeared for a week, Wayne had sat him down in the living room–the same room Eddie was in now, but it was warm and softly lit with lamps and tense with awkward silence–and told him that he was allowed to disappear for a while (“Hell,” uncle Wayne had said, “You’re practically grown now.”) but that he had to check in every three days. He hadn’t seen his uncle since Chrissy died–also in this same room, he remembered with a painful shudder forcing it’s way up his spine–but he had known that Wayne would understand that; would be waiting for him, but would let him do what he needed to keep the both of them safe. Was that what Eddie was doing now? Keeping himself and others safe by leaving those scraps of wood in place where Chrissy had died, keeping himself here? Eddie wasn’t sure. Part of him couldn’t make sense of it anyway–how could they board this up? How could they think he was dead when he was right here?

The memory of Dustin crying over him flashed through his head again. He, Eddie, had thought he was dying then. But surely he was wrong because look at him–he’s alive, right now. He held a hand up in front of his face, pinching the smooth pale skin below his rings. No, not dreaming. This was real, whatever it was. This had to be some weird sort of Upside Down thing; maybe you couldn’t die in the Upside Down. That had to be it, Eddie thought. He should have died but he didn’t, probably because he wasn’t from the Upside Down, he wasn’t like all of those other things out there, rattling in the dark as they searched for their next meal, so he couldn’t die here. An unwelcome thought occurred to him: maybe he had died but he had come back as a ghost. Sure, Eddie had assumed that ghosts wouldn’t be bothered by things like pieces of broken wood over a transdimensional crossing, but it’s not like he knew how that shit would work. He’d ask Henderson, if he could, but he imagined Dustin would roll his eyes and sigh, condescendingly explaining that ghosts aren't real (but, Eddie reasoned, none of this shit should be real. Didn’t stop it from being real, didn’t stop him from being here). Desperate to prove to himself that he really was alive, Eddie wrapped his fingers around his wrist, his grip so tight that the rational part of his mind told him to expect bruises. Nothing. He slid his hands around his cool skin, trying to find the dull beat that he could always feel tingling through his extremities when he had smoked a little too much, but there was nothing there. His hand came up to his chest, groping around over his thin t-shirt. Where the fuck was his heartbeat? He was alive, he knew he was alive, he could feel himself moving and breathing and thinking, he had to be alive. There–in his throat–he had found his pulse. Just barely, the softest, lightest thrum against his fingers. The beat was too slow, but it was there. 

He wasn’t sure why his heartbeat was so slow, why his blood felt thick and morose under his skin. He also wasn’t sure why he had been left behind. Shit, Eddie Munson was slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was a lot he didn’t–and never would–know. But, Eddie thought to himself, he had been left behind, and that’s what really mattered right now. He didn’t think of Dustin’s friends as his own–Harrington, Wheeler, and Buckley had all been nice enough but that didn’t mean he expected them to be a band of best friends after this. He had expected them to fight for him; it had been clear from the moment he lowered the broken bottle he had held against Steve’s throat that whatever this was, they were in it together. But they weren’t anymore, were they? Abandoned. Eddie had been abandoned by his temporary friends. Eddie the Banished, really and truly banished, left to rot alongside the vines and the demobats and Vecna. He didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Maybe he could find a way around this–he could go back to Wheeler’s house and touch the lights and tap out SOS on every damn surface in this town until someone put two and two together and brought him back. That would work, he thought, that had to work. A small voice rang out in the back of his head: what if they’re not at Wheeler’s house? What if they just think the wiring’s gone bad? What if they don’t want you back bad enough to risk opening the gate again? Eddie shook his head, dispelling the thoughts that threatened to take over, and sniffed, once. 

He looked around the dark, empty trailer. Eddie knew it wasn’t really safe to stay here too long–Vecna’s monsters would probably come back here, they could probably scent or sense or whatever they did, the fucking creeps, that he was there already. Dustin’s spear was leaning up against the wall, one of their homemade shields made of a garbage can lid and long nails still stuck to the ceiling. He stood on a chair, prying the shield loose from where he had stabbed it, and took Dustin’s spear in his other hand. It wasn’t much–probably not enough to keep him alive–but it would have to be enough to get him around town. He’d stick to the shadows, take back roads he was already too familiar with in case those fucking monsters preferred sidewalks or some shit, and he’d ruin the electrical grid of the whole damn town of Hawkins, Indiana if that’s what it took to get him home. He was going home, dammit, and not this home, a backwards, Upside Down version of his house. Eddie steeled his courage at the door of his trailer. Taking one last look over his shoulder, he regarded the space that was so similar to the one he had lived in for so long. His guitar was leaning up against the wall where he had discarded it before fighting the bats with Dustin, and there were die with too-many sides scattered over countertops. He couldn’t take it with him; he couldn’t take the memories, the longing for that part of his life again, either. When he swung the door open, stepping out into the darkness, the sky lit up overhead. The roiling flashes of red lighting cast a bloody glow over Eddie’s face as he stared up, blinking slowly. Shouldering his spear, makeshift shield in his other hand, he began the slow walk towards Wheeler’s house. 

Chapter two here!

[ladyfogg]

hello! could you write something about y/n and peters teams being rivals and they find out that they're supposed to be enemies right after they hook up? thank you!

A/N: Ah yes, the wonderful “accidentally slept with my rival” trope.

Pairing: Peter Maximoff/GN!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Suggestive content, language

If anyone wants to be added to my taglists, fill out this form. To learn more about what prompts I’m accepting, check here. The Evans Masterlist.

Peter doesn’t hook up often now that he’s at the mansion full time.

The idea that it’s also a school kind of weirds him out, not to mention hooking up with someone who he worked with also made things awkward. But you. He didn’t work with you and you weren’t part of the X-Men. Being a fellow mutant, he also didn’t have to hide his powers. So after weeks of intense flirting, coffee dates, and inuendos, Peter found himself at your place.

It was a memorable night.

In the morning, Peter lays next to you with a pleased grin on his face, his hands tucked behind his head.

“What are you smirking at?” you ask, slipping out of bed.

“Can’t a guy be happy about having sex?”

Laughing, you head to your closet and start to paw through your clothes. “You absolutely can be happy about it. Especially since it was great sex.”

Peter bit his lip as he studied your naked body. “If it was so great, you’d come back to bed right now so we can go again.”

“Wish I could, cutie. But I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

“Meeting for what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Peter rushes to stand in front of you, blocking your closet while he wraps his arms around your waist. “Some dumb meeting is more important than I am?”

“It’s not dumb, Peter. It’s really important.”

He pouts as you gently push him to the side so you can grab some clothes. As disappointed as he is, when he glances at the clock he realizes he probably should get going too.

“Alright, alright, fair enough. I’ve got a mission briefing in an hour anyway.”

You pause. “Mission briefing?”

Peter zooms around putting his clothes on. “If I don’t show up on time, Charles is going to give me that disappointed eye-brow raise.”

When he turns to look at you again, you’re standing there with wide eyes. “Charles? As in Charles Xavier?” you ask.

Peter nods. “Yeah…”

“You’re part of the X-Men?!”

He doesn’t like the way your voice raises in pitch. “Is that a problem?”

“Shit! Shit, this is bad!”

“What? Why?”

You study him for a moment as you cross your arms over your chest. “We shouldn’t even be talking, let alone sleeping together. Fuck, this sucks. I really liked you too.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Peter says, reaching towards you. “What are you talking about?”

You take a step back, putting distance between you. “Peter,” you say in a tight voice. “The meeting I’m going to is for the Brotherhood.”

Peter’s heart sinks. “The Brotherhood? Why are you hanging around them?”

“Because I’m a member.”

The Brotherhood and the X-Men are notorious rivals and have gone head-to-head on numerous occasions. Peter doesn't know much about them, only that they had sprung up sometime over the last few years. No one is sure where they came from. Peter suspects Charles might have an idea but he hasn't said anything.

“So what does this mean?” he asks. “That we can’t see each other anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s the way it has to be.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It should be.”

“Just because we’re in different groups doesn’t mean we can’t see each other.”

You sigh heavily, gazing at Peter with sad eyes. “It’s only going to tear us apart. Peter, I can’t do what I have to do when I know you’re on the other side of the line. God, if Erik finds out—”

“Wait, Magneto? You know Magneto?”

You put your hand over your mouth, clearly letting something slip that you weren’t supposed to. “Oh, shit. Damn it! See! I’m already blabbing about stuff I shouldn’t. You should go, like right now.”

“Wait, wait, no, this is great!” Peter exclaims. “It’s fine. I’m his son, so it’s cool.”

“You’re what?!”

“Yeah! Well, he doesn’t know that I am. At least, I don’t think he does. We haven’t officially talked about it. Haven’t had the moment. But, seriously, it’s totally cool. Just tell him you’re sleeping with me and he’ll be cool with it.”

“Okay, there is way too much there to unpack and I don’t think we have enough time for all of that.”

You start to pace and Peter follows along, trailing behind you even as you walk in circles. “Seriously, we should be alright to keep having sex. If you want to, that is. Because I really want to have sex with you again.”

“We’re not even on the same side, Peter.”

He steps in front of you, taking both your hands in his. “So, let’s make our own side. Just the two of us.”

You snort in amusement. “Not much of a side if it’s just two people.”

“I’d rather be a ‘we’ than be an ‘us’ and ‘them’.”

Sighing heavily, you reach out to push his silver hair back from his face. “Counteroffer,” you suggest. “You come with me to the meeting. See what work your dad is doing.”

“Only if you come with me next time to an X-Men meeting and see what they’re doing.”

You consider his suggestion, your hands still clasped in his. “One condition.”

“Name it.”

“We come back here after both meetings and have sex again.”

“Oh my god, yes. Deal. Absolutely.”

Laughing, you pull him into a harsh kiss. Smiling to himself, Peter kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

---

Taglist:

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[kim-monsterlings]

Hello! Is it okay if I ask for a monster match? If it isn't just delete request!

So em... Biologically I'm a/my pronounce is a she/her. I'm 5'3 or 5'4 (not sure). I'm a heterosexual (but I look gay as f-). I love studying arts (music, architecture and etc.). A bit of history nerd and sometimes (almost every time) overthinker. I keen watching TV shows, anime, documentaries and honestly anything. I'm a wierd combo of introvert & extravert. Prefer staying at home and living my 'raccoon in the dumpster' life. Veeeeery touchy (with concent ofc). That type of a person to hold a frog, call it Garry and claim that it's your knew friend. (Love snakes, spiders and a lot more of wild animals that a lot of people dislike). Good looking flying living creatures are my weakness.

A bit about my look (spoiler I'm fabulous) ((maybe)). I have short dark brownish hair. Blue and green eyes. Small chest and a good looking 🍑. Prefer mens clothing (POCKETS AND FREEDOM TO THE WAIST) but I don't mind feminine.

I'm searching for someone a bit of opposite of me (looking opposite too but honestly doesn't really matter), so he could push me sometimes when I get too lazy or smt. And sometimes to walk me bc my home is my fortress (again home dumpster racoon). Preferably WAY taller then me (I need a pillow). Someone that can tolerate my sometimes (a lot of times) childishness. I don't really care about what type of monster he is. As long as he ok with me being me.

Thank you ahead! ♥️💓

Levi - M Harpy x F Human (Reader) // SFW Monster Match

Anon monster match <3 I hope you love him!

Matches under the read more!

Content: SFW/Citrus; flirting, intimate embraces (cuddling, kissing), mentions of dating/courtship, creating a nest, use of endearment “sweetheart”, allusions to sexual intimacy

Masterlist // Monster Match Info + Masterlist // My Ko-Fi

Headcanon

Levi approached you first.

Though after his confession of being captivated by you - returning to the old museum in the hopes of stumbling into you once again, no recollection of him came to mind, and you would have remembered him.

Who wouldn’t?

Delicately feathered, shimmering with navy tips and darkened to near ebony closer to his chest. Long legs with talons clicked on the polished floor, but only the presence settling carefully beside you had roused you from staring toward the hanging artwork.

As rare as days out were of your own volition, you would never tire of reading the plaques and learning more with each visit. You hadn't moved for almost an hour when soft feathers tickled against your arm and in his attempt to create distance, they ruffled and stroked closer.

He may have approached you first with his chest puffed out and his head turned to focus only on you, but you were the one to speak, undeterred from staring at the wall opposite.

"Do you like it? This piece?"

His breath left him in a quiet exhale, enough to finally lure your attention to the broad expanse of his frame - failing in curling himself smaller, tracing the gentle sloping of his forehead down to his nose with a warmer stare.

In a voice as gentle as him, the stranger, as he was then, rasped, "sorry?"

"It's nothing special, is it?"

Rising from the low bench had you leaning against him - for the slightest and most fleeting of moments, relishing in the heat of his feathers, before he stood with you.

So close, his wing extended like a guiding arm, you couldn't help but reach to trace over them until he trembled.

Overstepping hardly made the best first impression, with little idea of how sensitive his wings may be, but the harpy stepped closer, lips curling. "Walk around with me?"

Your decision was made even before asking, "how much do you know of the artwork?"

"Very... very little."

"Perfect."

Many afternoons passed in a close embrace, though you were hesitant to have him accompany you home. For however much you adored a day out, you loved time spent indoors far better, and the evening came around by your invitation to share your favourite films with him.

Even still, you doubted he enjoyed them.

(You had a slight suspicion he watched them not only to have you tucked against him, but to see your delight in whispering the memorised script.)

The incredibly brief tour of your open-plan home led you into your bedroom to change into something comfier, hesitating there too long.

You returned to a sight you'd never forget, and one reinforcing the love you had for him.

"Do you mind?"

Levi bounced unsteadily on his thin legs, surrounded by a mess of cushions and blankets; a hastily arranged nest. Using those same sheets you had readied earlier on the sofa, too, and you were struggling for words.

"We've had our days out," he murmured, extending an arm to draw you close. "Now, I just want you. Is that okay?"

You tiptoed to whisper, "perfect."

Drabble

Some weeks felt longer than others. Little could rouse you now beyond the dimensions of your bed - not even the quiet ringing of your phone. The screen would brighten with the warm photo of dappled feathers, your boyfriend reminding you of your plans for the day. 

You hadn't forgotten.

He never left your mind.

Though the gentle knocking at your door made you turn deeper into your pillows. When the door creaked open, your smile tucked into the sheets soon to be pulled from your body. 

Not too long ago - not long enough after your first date, really, you had gifted Levi a key of his own. His courtship passed quickly and you were smitten, but he had opened the hastily folded tissue paper and frowned.

"Oh. Oh, I... thank you." 

By reflex alone, you moved to snatch the key, already rasping, "it was a mistake-" 

Feathers tickled your cheeks, lips soft against yours. His laughter never failed to soothe your nerves and he spread his arms wide around you. "I already have a key. I walk you home almost every night. Who do you think unlocks the door?" 

With it official then, it warranted a sweeter kiss, and the same greeted you now with warm hands coaxing you from the sheets. His quiet sigh resonated like a sharp twinge in your chest until you remedied it by stroking up through his feathered chest, just how he liked. 

"You coming out today, sweetheart?" 

Little more than a whine was your answer, a pout beckoning a kiss. Routine warned of quiet tutting - of pleading and compromise (often in your favour), but today you wanted nothing more than to finish the documentary you started the other night with him, not to go outside. 

Arms slipping beneath you earned a scowl. "I'm not going." 

Levi grinned. "Looks like you're going somewhere." 

This became the compromise; an understanding that though you loved to waste the day drowsy and warm, the nest he added to with every visit in your lounge welcomed you both. There was less chance of talons dragging against your legs, and more space for him to nestle tight. 

"We'll have a quiet day today," he murmured. "Next weekend, we're going somewhere nice. My treat - you can't say no." 

"We'll see." Levi pinched your waist and you smothered your smile into his wing, only for it to widen when his breath caught. You slipped your fingers lower down his stomach. "That's next weekend. Right now, we're laying together, and I still have too many clothes on. Want to help with that?"

[hatterstan-shameblog]

For the headcanon thing

I think Hatter likes to watch bad movies. Like the really bad ones. The ones that make you roll your eyes/laugh/cry at every single thing about it, doesn't matter if it's plot or acting. But you know what he loves more than watching those awful movies alone?

Watching them with someone else.

"hey, Mori, wanna watch a movie?"

"...no."

"c'mon, you'll like this one."

"no, I won't."

"...no, you won't. But I will enjoy your presence. C'mon bro, do it for the sake of bonding time."

"*sigh* fine..."

(inspired by real life events)

💕 Sleepover 💕

Rating: PG13 for language and alcohol consumption

Relationship: Takeru (Hatter)/Aguni

Tags: banter, friendly insults, Just Guys Being Dudes, drinking, swearing, love confessions (sort of), They Talk A Big Game But The Love Is There

Bangbangbangbangbang!

“Mori!”

Bangbangbangbangbang!

“Moooooori, let me iiiiiiiiiin!”

Clunk!

Click!

Creeeeeeaaaaaak!

Aguni opens his apartment door, wincing at the slap of summer heat that greets him as he does.

“C’mon man,” an overheated and impatient Takeru implores, “it’s miserable out here!”

“You bring me samosas,” Aguni asks, crossing his arms across his chest, “Because I’m not letting you in without my samosas.”

Takeru’s face twists into a look of shocked indignation.

“Would you really leave me—your best friend on this beautiful green Earth—to swelter and die on your doorstep in this blazing summer heat…all because I forgot the samosas?”

Aguni considers.

“No. I’d ask you to swelter and die in the parking lot. Neighbors’ll kick up a fuss if you block the stairwell.”

“Well it’s a good thing I got two orders this time,” Takeru shakes the bag enticingly, “so we don’t even have to share.”

“Someone’s splashing out,” Aguni murmurs, taking the bag from Takeru’s outstretched hand and standing aside so the man can enter his home, “Don’t suppose there’s a reason for all this…”

“Maybe I just wanted to be nice,” Takeru says flippantly, toeing off his shoes, “a little ‘thank you’ for welcoming me into your home.”

Aguni carries the bag of food over to his coffee table and sets it down, being careful not to disturb the place settings he had so thoughtfully arranged. Two plates, two spoons, two glasses of water—all neatly placed in the center of his new, sage-green placemats.

Hopefully nobody spills curry on them.

“You brought one of your weird movies again, didn’t you?”

Takeru rolls his eyes. Shoving his arm into his messenger bag, he rummages around its contents for a moment before yanking a dark, thin rectangle and holding it up for Aguni to examine.

“The 1977 horror classic, House,” he explains with an edge of exasperation, “is a critically-acclaimed work of art that has been inspiring both film fanatics and the average man for nearly half a century.”

“Straight from the back of the box,” Aguni mumbles, opening the stapled-shut paper bag and peeking at the containers inside, “Anyways, I thought you didn’t like scary movies.”

Takeru scoffs.

“Not sure what gave you that idea,” Takeru says, shoving his feet into his slippers—yes, his slippers, black velvet with red-and-gold dragons embroidered on the front because ‘I’m here enough to warrant my own damn slippers’ and ‘these are fucking awesome,’ “We saw Hereditary in the theater!”

“And you were scared the whole time,” Aguni points out, gingerly lifting their food out of the bag and arranging the containers on their respective plates, “You had to sleep with the lights on for a week. Screwed up your cat’s sleep schedule and everything.”

Takeru swans his way over to Aguni’s refrigerator and opens it, more or less sticking his whole head inside to examine its (admittedly meager) offerings.

“It’s not my fault that Ziggy is such a smart, beautiful boy who knows what ‘lights out’ means. And besides,” Takeru says while examining the bottle of white wine Aguni had put in to chill, “I’ll be staying here tonight, so it won’t be an issue.”

“So the cat gets to sleep, but I don’t?”

“You, my dear, get a evening of my company, complete with scintillating conversation, cultural enrichment, and—as we have already established—your very own order of samosas,” Takeru calls out from the kitchen, rummaging for a suitable pair of wine glasses, “And besides, I plan on sleeping deeply and comfortably knowing that any and all monsters would no doubt eat you first, giving me ample opportunity to flee the scene…”

Aguni lifts the lid off his curry, admiring the rich yellow hue and inhaling its bold spices. There are even a few extra chilis lying on top, which is a lovely surprise.

Takeru arrives at the table, glasses in one hand and wine in the other. He gives the spread a discerning once-over and then a nod of apparent approval.

“Anyways,” Takeru says, twisting off the top of the wine bottle (not without giving Aguni a look of distaste as he does it), “I’m a bit disappointed in you, Mori-chan. I thought you’d fight me more on this one…”

“It’s a losing battle,” Aguni concedes, sitting himself down in his usual spot and turning on the television, “I have too many brain cells and not enough patience to go through the usual theatrics.”

Takeru hands him a generously-full wine glass—not as full as his own, of course, but still more than what the average person might pour.

“This’ll help the brain cell problem,” he says with an over-enthusiastic smile, “probably the patience, too. Wine makes you sentimental.”

“Hmph.”

“See? It’s already working.”

“Yeah, well,” Aguni grumbles, taking a small sip of his beverage, “better get the movie started before I change my mind.”

Takeru begins his usual indignant grumbling as he fumbles with the DVD player. Aguni could help him, but, frankly, it’s entertaining to watch his friend struggle with the simple electronic setup.

When Takeru manages to get the tray open, he gives a small cheer of victory. Aguni stifles a smirk.

Hopefully the movie is this much fun.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“Mori. Hey, Mori-chan.”

Aguni rolls his eyes, and then himself onto his side to face Takeru.

“What,” he grumbles, squinting in the dark as he tries to make out the other mans’ shape, “piano thing still got you upset?”

“It ate her fingers, Mori,” Takeru whisper-shouts, “and then it got the rest of her too! That’s enough to upset anyone!”

“It wasn’t even that scary,” Aguni mentions, shimmying his shoulders in order to find a more comfortable spot on his futon, “besides, you don’t even play piano, so you don’t have to worry.”

Takeru is silent for a moment—a blessed, beautiful moment.

“I guess you’re right,” he says after his brief contemplation, “but that’s not the only thing on my mind.”

“I’m guessing ‘sleep’ isn’t one of ‘em?”

Takeru scoffs. There’s a shuffling and fluttering sound from his neighboring futon as he turns to face his disgruntled companion.

“In due time,” Takeru says, “what plagues me now is more of a philosophical question.”

Aguni sighs.

“Remember the part where that guy got turned into a pile of bananas?”

“Yeah,” Aguni responds, “that was weird.”

“What if that happened to me,” Takeru asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “would I turn into a pile of bananas, or would I be a different kind of fruit?”

Oh, you’re different alright, Aguni thinks to himself, but he knows better than to say that out loud. Takeru’s using his ‘this is going to keep me up all night unless you give me a good answer’ voice, so Aguni starts thinking about how best to answer.

“I think you’d be melons,” Takeru concludes, “yeah…definitely melons.”

“Because of my round head and lack of hair?”

“No,” Takeru snaps, “well, that wasn’t my original thinking.”

Aguni subtly checks his phone—half-past one o’clock in the morning, too late to send Takeru home on a train to ask his cat these burning questions instead of him.

“Why,” Aguni asks, “do you think I’d be melons?”

“Well, like you, melons are strong and tough on the outside. Make a nice thud sound when you smack ‘em.”

“So do I,” Aguni mentions, “if you get the right spot. But I also hit back, so that’s not very melon-y, is it?”

“Hm. I suppose not. But,” Takeru says, “where you really start to resemble the melon is on the inside.”

“Inside, huh?”

“Yeah,” Takeru considers for a moment, “underneath all that tough rind, melons are soft. Sweet, too. Nothing fancy, they’re not trying to prove anything, they’re just…good. Like you.”

Aguni hadn’t been expecting something so…sentimental. It’s a touching departure from their usual quips and playful jabs, and it makes something warm and kind of familiar bubble up in Aguni’s heart.

“And also,” Takeru tacks on, “they’re green. And green is your favorite color! So it’s perfect.”

“I think you’d be a strawberry,” Aguni says after a beat.

“A strawberry? You mean only one?”

“Only one,” Aguni confirms, “but one of those fancy designer ones, the kind they grow in those hydroponic farms and sell in department stores for thousands of yen.”

“I heard about a guy who got murdered at one of those places,” Takeru says, “some yakuza guy who was selling weed on the side, someone put a hit out on him and used the body for fertilizer.”

“That’s…disturbing,” Aguni replies, “but that’s beside the point. Don’t you want to know why I think you’d be a single strawberry?”

“Is it because they’re red?”

“Sort of,” Aguni says, “Got a lot of seeds, too. Get stuck in your teeth pretty easily, if you’re not careful.”

“I am rather tenacious.”

“You are.”

Aguni considers his next words carefully. His relationship with Takeru is…complicated, and uncertain, and if anyone ever asked him what they ‘are’ he wouldn’t know how to answer.

“Strawberries are sweet. They’re sour, too. You’d know the flavor anywhere. And you…”

He pauses. Takeru, for once, doesn’t try to fill the silence with his own voice.

“…Well, those designer strawberries are all one-of-a-kind, just like you. So that’s why there’s one one,” he says slowly, “and I like strawberries. Might even, uh…love ‘em.”

“Oh, Mori…”

Something flops onto Aguni’s blanket—once, twice, and ah, it’s Takeru’s hand, and he’s looking for something. Aguni slips his arm from under the covers and covers Takeru’s hand with his own. This is apparently what Takeru had been searching for, because he pulls Aguni’s hand closer to himself.

“You know,” Takeru says, “now that you mention it, I think I might love melon, too.”

Aguni feels lips against the back of his hand—a soft kiss, gentle, a reassurance as much as an act of affection—and he’s glad for the dark of night that hides the blush of his cheeks.

“I feel better now,” Takeru announces, giving Aguni’s hand a light squeeze, “In fact, I think I’m falling asleep as we speak…”

“Hmm,” Aguni hums in agreement.

He’s still holding Takeru’s hand, and Takeru, his—neither seem too keen on letting go, at least, not for now.