#peter Maximoff fluff

[quickandsilvers]

REQUEST FROM THE SLEEP HEADCANON!!!¡

💤💤💤💤

peter and reader are the closest best friends can be, even having the biggest crush on each other they keep pretending they don’t.

one day, they fall asleep together at peters bed after a movie night, and reader ends up having a wet dream with him.

peters wakes up spooning asleep reader while she’s quietly moaning and rubbing herself against him…….. BE CREATIVE I LOVE ALL YOUR CONTENT 💞💘💕💖💓💕💗💖💘

UHM YES?!?!

A:N- Sorry this took so long to get out, i wasn’t liking how dragged out it was so i had to edit a lot of this!! I hope you like it though🩷🤍🩷

Wet Dream 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

Summary: Reader has quite the raunchy dream about Peter one night. Spoiler alert; he’s right there to see it 👀

Warnings: switch!Peter, slow burn, kissing, grinding, humping, oral sex(fem receiving), unprotected P in V, fingering, hand job, porn with plot, Peter comes like 3 times before p in v even happens.. THE WHOLE PACKAGE PEOPLE!!!

Word Count: 6914 (had to shorten it sos!!)

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

After a long week at the mansion, softened by your regular visits to the record store with Peter, you were finally free for a long weekend with your best friend and you had decided to celebrate with a movie marathon in your dorm room.

A glance at your phone read 11:06 PM.

Your roommate, Jean, was bunking with Scott tonight; and you had grasped the opportunity for a several hour long marathon- complete with bowls of sugary snacks and two-litre bottles of soda.

“You ready?” you asked Peter as he stumbled into your living room with a variety of cake snacks in his grasp.

“Hol’ on-” he grumbled, brows furrowing in concentration as he dumped the plethora of cake snacks onto the coffee table in front of you.

Fwip.

Your eyes trained on your best friend, who was now in your kitchen jabbing numbers into your microwave.

You watch, amused, as Peter impatiently taps his foot against the tiles, closely observing the popcorn in the microwave rotate. With every pop of a kernel came Peter’s childish explosion mimic in response. Sighing, you lean back into your seat.

You were sitting on an old, yellow 70's style vintage leather couch. Its material was ripped in various places, allowing bits of white fluff to peak through the tears. These fissures in the leather scraped across your bare legs, leaving little red marks each time you moved.

Peter was the one to ‘buy’ the couch for you when you first moved into the mansion, arguing to your horrified self that the piece of furniture had ‘character and personality’ to it.

The couch was tatty and torn apart, but you couldn’t find yourself able to get rid of it, despite Charles’ frequent offers to replace it free of charge.

It was by no means comfortable, but you found that you were able to sit back and relax soon enough.

As you heard the finishing beep of the microwave and Peter’s elated exclamation of delight, you got up to rifle through a box of DvD’s, searching for the first movie of the night.

Peter, busy with squirting a sickly amount of caramel sauce on his popcorn, gave you a bit of time to get ahead and choose the movie before he could pipe in with something like E.T. You swore you could recite that film backwards from the sheer amount of times Peter forced you to watch it.

Kneeling in front of the cabinet you began to sift through your collection.

The shining? You cringed at the thought. Granted, you absolutely adored the film, but watching it with Peter was something you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. You were jumpy enough without Peter’s sudden ‘BOO!’ yelled down your ear just before a scare.

Pretending to be scared and cuddling into your best friend was pretty nice though; that boy had enough body heat to put Lucifer to shame.

You grab a pile, rifling through them in quick succession. Ghostbusters? You had watched that last week. Grease? No one wants to see Peter’s Danny Zuko impression. E.T? Think again, motherfucker.

By the time Peter had proudly walked in with his creation, you had narrowed it down to 2 films. You turned to smile at him, and he flashed you a broad grin as he tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth before appearing next to you.

Fwip.

The speedster peered over your shoulder at your movie picks and cocked a silver brow.

“Can’t we jus’ watch E.T?” Crunch.

You shudder. Whether it was due to the abominable mention of that ghastly excuse for a film, or the obnoxious chewing in your ear, you weren’t sure.

You gaped up at him. “Whaddaya mean? Carry on films are classics! Better than a film we’ve seen 12 times already.”

You weren't even lying.

“I dunno, it’s jus’ the same sex-crazed people recitin’ the same half-arsed scripts for 30 films straight. Don't even get me started on the laughin’ tracks, babe.”

You shoot up and point an accusing finger at his pajama-clad chest. “This film deserves way more respect than the utta bullshit you’re tryna spew!”

Peter presses his lips into a line to avoid a snicker, smirking knowingly at you and holding up a caramel coated finger to your own chest.

“One word. Emmannuelle.” Crunch.

You whine and Peter smirks at catching you out, raising his eyebrows and walking backwards onto the couch, licking his finger and closing his eyes to relish in the sugary goodness.

“That’s not fair!” Your voice raises a few octaves as you eye his adam’s apple in motion, before continuing to search through your stack, “There’s 30 films and you picked the worst rated one!”

“Princess, don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Peter responds nonchalantly, hand reaching into the popcorn bowl that he had already ingested three-quarters of. “Once yer’ve seen one, yer’ve seen them all, really.” He shrugged.

You couldn’t really fight his reasoning, instead settling with a short huff. Finally, after a quick eeny-meeny-miny-mo, you picked one of the films and popped the disc into the DVD-player.

“Buuut it is yer turn to choose. And i guess yer did sit through the last one.”

You turn to him. “‘Sit through’? I liked it!”

“Yer eyes were glazed over not even 10 minutes in!” Peter chuckled, “It’s alrigh’, babe. It’s not to everyone’s taste.” Crunch.

“Well atleast i’m not the one geekin’ out the whole way through!” You scoffed, plopping yourself on the couch and knocking knees with your bestfriend “You fuckin’ clapped when RD-23 came on the screen!”

“R2-D2.” He corrected under his breath, his unoccupied large hand moving to rest on your lower thigh.

Peter loooved Star wars and it clearly showed. In this moment he was adorned in a plain black t-shirt and stormtrooper pajama pants, of which hung deliciously on his hips, showing off his V-line which had you watering at the mouth. God, he had such a slutty waist.

He ‘bought’ you a matching pair like ‘all best buds do!’ except yours were little shorts and a smaller black t-shirt.

“We could just watch Revenge of The Sith instead yunno?” You offer, eyeing the slither of skin where his shirt had ridden up.

Peter shook his head, his soft silver locks moving with it. He was still hung up on when you “fainted” at the sight of Harrison Ford. You wouldn’t shut up about how good he looked for his age.

For his age? Pfft! He’s got nothin’ on a mutant with his slow-agin’ genetics!

Clicking play on the remote, you settle back into the cushions with an eager smile as you subconsciously snuggle into your best friend’s right side, easing him into a lying position.

You grin up at him and nuzzle your nose in his cheek. He tickled your side in response, making you erupt in small giggles at the feeling.

Peter happily grabbed another handful of popcorn as he watched the film, looking for a piece drizzled with extra caramel.

“Oi, not gonna share?” You jokingly pout, tugging on his wrist to take it out of the bowl.

Peter froze as he realized he had just grabbed the last of the popcorn.

Whenever you had movie nights in either of your dorms, Peter always fought you for the last of the popcorn. You always acted upset, but he knew you always saved the last bite for him.

He hadn’t thought twice, assuming you left it for him, but what if you were actually angry?

But when he tore his eyes from the comedy and peeked over at you, you were grinning teasingly at him. Peter relaxed, and threw the popcorn into his mouth. When he bit down, he winced as his tooth nearly cracked on an unpopped kernel. Curse that goddamn microwave.

“Serves you right!” You snort, sticking your tongue out at him and laughing at the speedsters' screwed up expression.

“Go ahead, princess, laugh at my pain!” Peter groaned, rolling the kernel around in his mouth until he had positioned it just right so he could spit it out at you.

You shriek as it catapults onto your cheek and bounced off somewhere in the sofa. You grab the decorative pillow you had been hugging and hit him over the head with all the strength you could muster.

When you aimed another blow to his chest, Peter caught it, and easily tugged it out of your unsuspecting grasp. You huff and lay down on the armrest, snatching a quilt laying over the back of the couch and smothering yourself with it.

Peter dove down into the back of the couch beside you and pulled the quilt over his legs, his sock-clad feet sticking out of the material and over the other side of the furniture.

His mood changed quickly: energetic and playful, and in mere moments, calm and collected.

It was helpful, sure, as he could match your energy easily and keep a conversation going.

But it’s not that great having to take over as tour guide for new students when their prior escort falls asleep whilst showcasing the professor’s english lectures. Or perhaps that was a fault of Charles’ monotonous presentations?

“Ready?” You ask, spreading the comforter over the two of you.

“Ready,” Peter affirmed with squinting eyes, and you chuckled at his tone. You knew how he took movie marathons, claiming it to be an ‘olympic sport’.

Clicking play on the remote, you settled back again, this time into his chest as he wraps a strong arm around your waist.

It still made your heart all fluttery when he did so, and you thanked the lords above you weren’t facing him, revealing your cheeks dusted with crimson.

Peter tilted his head. “What’s this one?”

“One’a my favourites.” You answered quietly.

By 20 minutes in, all soda bottles had been drained (courtesy of Peter) and abandoned in the middle of the coffee table. You had intertwined your legs with him, and Peter’s arm was now slung over your hips.

A yawn slipped past your lips, which you thought was a miracle that it had taken this long for your first sign of weariness, and your best friend glanced over at you with a knowing smile.

“I thought yer said that yer weren’t tired.” He teased, tongue in cheek.

“I never said that,” you yawned again, “I said I wanted to do movie night.”

“We can do this another time–”

“I wanna do this.” You placed your hand on his arm along your body to stop him from talking. “I’ll stay awake.”

Peter gave you another knowing look and you stared right back at him. After a few moments, he sighed and gave in.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” He put his hand up in mock defense. After a moment more of looking at your heavy blinks, he sighed softly. “Oh, c’mere.”

As if you weren’t already impossibly close, Peter slid his left arm under your body, moving you further towards him with a grunt and practically cradling you. You rest your head against his shoulder, melting into the familiar position with ease.

Anyone who walked in on you would think you were in your honeymoon phase, but you knew better than that. What you had didn’t need a label. You didn’t even know what label you could put on yourselves. But it didn’t matter. You were best buds. And that was enough for you.

You weren't entirely sure when you had closed your eyes. The movie was like white noise in the background, unintentionally lulling you off into sleep. You heard a soft chuckle and knew Peter had finally noticed that you hadn’t kept up your end of the bargain.

“Jus’ restin’ my eyes…” you mumbled as an excuse, yet failing to open them.

“Mhm.” Peter hummed, clearly unconvinced.

You were right on the cusp of conscious and unconscious, and right as you were about to topple over, you felt his lips on the top of your head. They lingered for 5, 10, 30 seconds. Your smile didn’t fade the entire time his lips were touching your head, nor did it fade when he moved away.

‘I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me in other places.’ You thought to yourself with a sigh.

You were aware of Peter shuffling to get comfortable and pressing into your side, lingering a light boop to your nose with his finger and observing your features as you teetered off the brink of consciousness.

——————————————————————————

Soft, supple lips fluttered down the side of your neck.

You smiled and squirmed at the pleasure brought on by the teeth that slowly scraped along your collar bone and gently nipped across the front of your throat.

The hot breaths that caressed your skin with each sensual kiss and nip set your blood on fire and forced moisture to pool between your legs.

Looking up, you saw twinkling chocolate brown eyes behind sections of silvery hair staring down at you. Your eyes widened with embarrassment when you realized who was on top of you, grinding into you slowly.

Peter ran his hand through your hair and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. He ran his lips down the sides of your crimson cheeks and down the front of your neck, biting the sensitive flesh where the neck and shoulders meet. You tilted your head to the side and sighed.

The speedster ferociously claimed your lips once again. He pressed himself between your legs and teased your center with a purposeful, slow grind. You moan, wrap your arms around him and rake your fingernails up and down his back, deep and hard enough to leave proof of the sinful pleasure building inside you.

Suddenly, Peter tore his puffed lips away from you. You gazed into his eyes and watched him smile a surprisingly effective seductive smile, nothing like the attempted smolders he had sent your way before. He slid down your body and stopped by your feet. He spread your legs wide before him.

"...Peter, what...?" you began, but your words caught in your throat.

Peter arched your leg over his shoulder and began to softly place deliberate kisses up your leg. Each graze of his wet lips scorched your skin and left a trail of endless fire burning in their wake.

You laid beneath Peter's touch, flushed and writhed in torturous pleasure. Bolts of what felt like lightning shot down your spine. Heavy pants escaped your body, chest heaving, as he kissed higher and ran his tongue along the inside of your thigh until he reached the apex of your trembling limbs.

“Peter.. Ngaah- wai-!”

Without warning, Peter latched onto your swollen clit and pulled it between his lips.

You arched off the sweat slicked couch and shoved your hands deep into his ruffled, untidy hair. You cried out and yanked his hair each time you felt him wrap his powerful tongue around your clit. The pleasure he built inside you was intoxicating and frankly, dangerous. You felt as if you might burst into heavenly fire.

Peter looked up at you through heavy lidded eyes. He gently removed your leg from his shoulder and slid up your body once more. He trailed kisses up your stomach and pinched a hard nipple between his fingers. You quietly moaned, silently hoping this would never stop.

Breathing heavily and licking his lips, Peter settled himself on top of you. He kissed your bare shoulder and ran his teeth up your throat as he did prior. He pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.

"Princess..." he whispered. You could feel hot breath caressing your neck.

You squirmed beneath him, reveling at the feel of his hardness pressed against your center. You felt his dick twitch when it came in contact with the slick dripping from your core.

"Babe..." soft moaning graced your ears. He tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.

He reached between your thighs. You bucked against his hand as you felt him slide his long finger inside you.

"C'mon," Peter begged, pleading for your sweet noises.

He slid in a second finger. You arched your back and moaned when his fingers began teasing the spot that would send you over the edge. He used his thumb to push down on your clit, vibrating it delicately. You closed your eyes as you threw your head against the rough couch, Peter wrapping his hot mouth around your swollen breast.

“..-up” You furrowed your brows at his inaudible whispers, mumbled against your supple skin.

“Wake up..” heh?

"C’mon. Wake up!"

Your eyes snapped open, alarmed and chest heaving. Your body was flushed, covered in sweat. Hair was plastered to the back of your neck and your hands were fisted in your lap. Sitting up onto your elbows, you look around the room with wide and confused eyes.

"Nice dream, princess?" Peter asked, cheeks flushed, yet smirking knowingly.

Oh. OH.

—--------------

Sharing a room with you was normal. It was. Peter knew that. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a thing that platonic friends would partake in, especially comfying up on the couch together, but whats the harm in it?

So okay, it wasn’t normal by definition. But he wasn’t going to make it weird . Just because he had a small crush on you did not mean that he would let it be weird. You were colleagues, Xmen, and you even spent time together outside of work too! Peter would come to your room to watch old movies, and you would go to his so you could cook and listen to music with him. So he knew he could spend time with you alone, that wasn’t the problem.

It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.

His little crush had been invading his subconscious almost constantly nowadays, and peter was notoriously known to talk in his sleep. He was so scared he would say something wrong whilst snorin’ away next to you. If you overheard something like that, he knew your friendship would never recover. How can you act normal around someone who said your name in their sleep?

Good thing you did it before him then.

Peter was just doing his own thing, flicking through channels on the 70’s style television on low volume so as to not wake you. Dynasty, Seinfeld, Star Trek… not tonight.

He yelped quietly as Return of The Jedi appears on the screen, changing the channel in quick succession. You had yet to watch the film with him, and Peter didn’t want to ruin it for you by watching it beforehand.

He sighed, shoving the remote down the side of the sofa, nothing seeming to catch his attention.

Nothing, before you let out a low whimper and shuffle back into the heat of his chest.

“Babe?” Peter called quietly into the dark.

You were sleeping soundly, the muted reflection of light streaming in from the TV casting thin slivers of white across your face.

Peter rarely had the opportunity to watch you as you slept, normally being out like a light long before you and not waking up until hours into the afternoon, so he took a moment to indulge himself.

Your hair was an utter mess, with it falling into your forehead and sticking out from where it was smooshed against the pillow. Your lips were slightly parted and dry, and Peter shivered as he finally attuned himself to the soft whisper of your breath hitting his shoulder.

You were beautiful, and his heart clenched with adoration for you. This wasn’t at all what he had expected when he began his job with the Xmen, but he was not complaining in the slightest. Free food, permitted to use Charles’ credit card whenever he pleases, and a smokin’ hot, funny girl cuddling up to him every night; what's not to like?

On second thought, scratch the former two benefits. Peter was quickly banned from using Charles’ card, ever since he took advantage and bought enough cake snacks to put Hostess out of stock for three weeks. He had the best four hours of his life that night.

Peter sighed contentedly, and unthinkingly reached back to brush a few strands of hair from your forehead. Your hair was so soft and smooth and he wanted to run his fingers through it, but even the gentlest touch of him moving your hair from your face had stirred you.

Peter reluctantly curled up on his side with his stomach facing your own, in an attempt to bury his desire to keep touching you. You snuffled out a breath and shifted around, and Peter held his breath, hoping you would fall back to sleep. He was pleasantly surprised when you continued shuffling until your sleep-heated body came into contact, flush with his.

You exhaled deeply and nestled your face into Peter’s neck as his arm came up to drape across your hip. He smiled into his own pillow, pleased with this development, and he relaxed back into your embrace…

…And then nearly rolled out of it again when your pelvis brushed something between his hips. Holy fuck!

Peter immediately thrust his hips forward and away from your jutting, not wanting to take advantage of you in your sleep-induced state, but you grunted in dissatisfaction and thrust your hips closer to him until the burning heat through your shorts was trapped right against Peter’s length again.

As if just feeling that you were horny and dreaming about somethin’ naughty wasn’t enough, you then began to rock your hips into his. Fuckin’ hell!

“-agh-.. princess?” Peter whispered, panic-stricken, feeling his cheeks flame in a combination of embarrassment and excitement. He groaned as his dick twitched in interest in an attempt to reach your alluring heat.

You let out a soft sigh, and the rocking of your hips slowed. Peter wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed, however he ultimately decided it was for the best; he’d rather you to be conscious if you were about to make a massive jump in your platonic relationship to physical.

Despite the already raging boner that was growing and painfully restricted by the confines of his stormtrooper pajamas, Peter let his eyes slip closed, content to cradle you in his arms and go back to sleep. However the solid pressure of your heat on his thigh kept the speedster wide awake.

Then you began moving again.

You pressed your pelvis forward, rubbing your clothed core onto the muscled thigh of Peter’s mid-thigh. Then, you let out a shuddering moan that made all of his wild fantasies about the way you sounded seem entirely tame in comparison.

Your hips were no longer rocking, but they were actively grinding and stuttering against him. Peter could feel the exact shape of your pussy through the scant layers of fabric separating you from him.

Your hand moved to curl around his bicep, firmly anchoring yourself to your best friend. You were breathing raggedly and the motion of your hips was getting faster and deeper, more sensual than ever.

Peter’s own noises failed to be kept silent, as he whimpered in response and rested his forehead into your hair as you frantically humped his thigh.

Jesus fuck, how were you still asleep? And what were you dreaming about that got you this riled up?

Even if he wanted to move, Peter was effectively trapped between your weight and the back of the couch, your motions making the old thing squeak and groan in answer.

Warm, wet heat throbbed between your legs, and Peter desperately wanted to flip you onto your back, rip off your tiny shorts, and fuck you until you both passed out from exhaustion.

You were making the most devastating noises as you rutted your heat against him harder and faster, whining in desire as you worked for your release.

Peter had half a mind to reach down and give you a hand, but he instead gripped on tight to the couch cushions, eyes wide and lips parted in astonishment.

Ohh, he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be lying here, practically taking advantage of you whilst you rubbed yourself upon him. If you were awake you’d be mortified, ohh-, but you sound so good and feel so good and, really, it would be cruel to stop you. Especially when you were enjoying yourself sooo much…

Peter lay there for a few more moments, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore the burning want in his rock hard cock.

Then, you moaned something that had him spluttering in surprise .

“Nghnaa- Peterr,” you whimpered.

Peter came instantly, covering a guttural moan with his hand.

Holy. Fuck.

You were dreaming about him? Your best bud since forever?

You whined in pleasure as you felt the surge of heat from Peter’s load. Frantically, you arch your hips into his again, once, twice, three more times, before you let out a wrenching moan and stilled behind him.

Peter shivered as he felt his cock throbbing against your core, and as he felt a wet warmth seep through your pajamas and onto his clothed thigh.

Holy-

Peter panted harshly for a few moments as he stayed tightly pressed against you, large hands coming to grip on your arms. Him, really? Of all people you decided to get off to, you chose him! Frankly, he was flattered; and clearly so was his dick.

The fuckin’ thing seemed to have a mind of its own! The sticky, burning mess that had erupted in his Pj’s made him grimace uncomfortably, knowing it would soon dry into a crusty disaster. But the thing seemed to get hard and stay hard whenever he was around you. How embarrassin’!

A glance towards the clock; 12:43. Peter hummed, turning back towards you and lightly squeezing your arm. As you stirred he put on a lazy smirk, hoping the flaming blush in his cheeks had subsided enough by now.

As your eyes snapped open, disoriented, Peter propped himself up on his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nice dream, princess?"

Ooh, he is gonna ruin you.

—-----------------------------

Trying to collect yourself after being awoken, your eyes landed on your best friend, inches away from your own face and wiggling his brows. For mere moments you were puzzled, wondering why his cheeks had more of a reddish tone than normal, then you came to a conclusion.

Oh fuck.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you realized what you had done, placing a hand over your chest and taking a deep, panicked breath. It took a few pounding heartbeats to get the courage to look at Peter. You prayed your demeanor wouldn't give anything away.

"H-Huh?" You replied, braving a glance at him. Oh wow, real smooth.

"I asked, 'nice dream’?" Peter repeated, nonchalantly. His fingers tickled down your arm, only aiding in the nervous sweat that dripped down from your hairline.

"What makes you think that?" You stuttered.

"Well, yer were talkin’ quite a bit, babe. There was a moan a’ two thrown in there. Oh! And a 'Don't stop, Peter!' happened, too." He winked. “I must’ve given you a hella good time, princess.”

Ok sure, maybe he was exaggerating a little. But he reallyyy wanted to know exactly what happened in your dream..

Your cheeks flamed beyond recognition. You were fucked. Or rather, about to be.

"Hmm..." He looked at you with a piercing stare as a dimpled, wry grin split across his face. Before you could react, Peter laughed.

"Oi, shut up!" you giggled, slightly relieved at the humor that came out of this.

Your giggles came to an abrupt stop, however, as Peter shuffled impossible closer to you, his lengthy erection threatening to tear his pajamas. You fought with the Gods themselves not to look down, knowing the tent in the material would expose something you have thought of everytime you’d touch yourself.

A grumble erupted from Peter’s throat, his cocky facade crumbling away with every involuntary rut of your hips.

"How ‘bout yer show me what happened in yer dream?" he suggested, hand snaking around the small of your back as Peter sat up, pulling you into his lap.

You squeaked, nibbling your lip nervously. Peter pressed himself flush to you, his cock pressing against your pelvis angrily. A familiar aching tingle took up residence low in your belly, and you huffed out a shaky sigh as you pressed the ache closer to him.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips as he said it, albeit very shakily. Before you could even nod, his lips pressed to yours.

You instantly relaxed into his lap. Peter’s lips were soft and urgent, catching your bottom lip between them.

Your hands pulled him closer by the neck, and he let his hands mold against your waist, urging you closer. Your hands roamed into his hair, pushing it off his forehead and carding your fingers smoothly through it, causing him to let out a muffled moan into your mouth. You hummed.

Experimenting, you clumsily tugged at his silvery strands with fevor. With a whimper that had your walls clenching around air, Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he let his hands drop to your ass.

He squeezed and pulled you down onto him, letting his lips find your neck. You let out a loud groan as he sucked a mark into your pulse point, but you pushed him away with both hands on his cheeks.

“Not above the collar,” You reminded meekly. He smirked at the idea of everyone on the team knowing what you had done. And everyone knowing that someone like you wanted to do this with someone like him. Take that, Scotty.

“But.. what if I want people to know yer mine?” Peter asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lobe as he said so, nibbling it carefully. You grinned.

“I think you’ve got this whole thing wrong then.”

“Hm?” You smiled as you felt Peter’s brows furrow against the side of your head.

“You belong to me.”

He whimpered. Your eyes lit up, and you simply smirked at him.

“Good boy.” You whispered, and pressed down hard with your hips, rolling them once.

Peter came in his pants. Again.

With a loud groan and a thrust upward, he shot into his pajamas. You chuckled through flushed cheeks as he shuddered through his orgasm, and leaned down to kiss him. As soon as he came down from the high, embarrassment overtook him.

He had a chance with his dream girl, and he literally blew it not five minutes in. Literally and figuratively. And all because you called him a Good boy?

Peter brought his hands up to cover his face, but you caught his wrists before he could reach. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, breathing heavily, not ready for the ridicule that was sure to follow.

“Awh, did I make you cum?” You rolled your hips a few times, and he hissed at the oversensitivity. “That’s so fuckin’ hot.”

“Yer- W-What?” Peter asked, turning back towards you slowly. You were beaming at him.

“The cutest boy, all worked up, jus’ for me.” You arched your back so your clothed tits were shoved closer to the poor boy’s face, yunno, just for good measure.

He blushed again, and swallowed as he grinned back at you. “But what ‘bout yer?”

“What about me?” You asked. Peter’s hands danced along your sides, cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples through your shirt.

“Wanna make yer feel good.” He whispered while you gasped.

“What’s stopping you?” You asked with a whisper. Peter surged upwards and began kissing you again, only stopping to finally rip your shirt off and get his hands on your bare breasts.

Peter’s tongue flicked against your own as you moaned against his lips, the feeling of him kneading your tits too much to bare.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot. Such a good, good boy.” You praised, stroking his hair.

He whines, playing with the hem of your shorts and his hips rut, seeking for friction. You take the hint, shimmying your pajamas down off your legs whilst helping Peter with his own.

You salivate at the sight of his lengthy cock, slapping up to hit his abs and glistening from the pearly white release running down it. Thick veins traveled upwards, buzzing from the speedster gene and throbbing with anticipation. His angry red tip leaked, twitching and begging for your warmth.

You use a hand to grip the base of your best friend's cock, his fluid running over your knuckles and providing you with a natural lube. Peter hissed with gritted teeth, watching as you slowly jerked him off with a tight embrace, circling the tip of his dick with your other hand.

“He-hey! Too much!” Peter yelped, bucking his hips up despite his protests.

You complied, stopping your actions briefly before sitting up, aligning your dripping wet entrance with his tip.

Schweeeett.

You laid a hesitant hand over his chest, and gooseflesh sizzled across his skin, sending another bolt of heat to his already overheated cock. He bit his lip to keep himself grounded and to keep from dropping his hand to his pants and rubbing himself to relive the pressure.

He felt so shaky and on edge and so, so horny.

Your lips pressed lightly against his, and while Peter’s brain seemed to short out, his body and his hormones knew exactly what to do and took over. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, anchoring you to him as he flipped over so he was laying on top of you.

You made a breathy little noise, and Peter’s brain finally started up again.

“This okay?” he panted between the gentle little kisses he was peppering across her jaw.

“Almost,” you teased.

Before he could ask what you meant, you looped your leg around his Peter’s and tugged so that he was fully nestled in the cradle of your thighs. He groaned as he felt his aching erection settled against your heat.

He could feel the heat radiating out from your center, and Peter grew impossibly harder.

“Princess” he whimpered, rutting restlessly against you. “Please… fuck, yer feel so good…”

You arched up into him, grinding yourself equally as wantonly against him.

“So do you,” you hissed, tightening your hold around his hips for more leverage.

Your hands wandered aimlessly, but Peter was too lost in the feel of you beneath him, so soft and warm and beautiful. The pressure in his abdomen deepened until it almost hurt.

“I need… I want… Please, babe.. I’m gonna…”

He was well aware he was babbling, but his brain was a little more occupied by the delicious friction his cock was getting against your hot and damp center.

Peter tucked his face into your neck as he focused on the pleasure burning through him, soaring higher and higher until he could barely take it anymore.

You arched up hard against him as your fingers raked through his hair once more, and he was lost.

Deciding he had enough, Peter aligned himself with your entrance and slammed into your wet cunt with one thrust, eliciting a moan from you that threatened the coil in his lower stomach to snap already.

He kissed you once more, this time taking control as his tongue glided across your lips passionately, far from the blubbering mess you made him previously. The taste of caramel and sugar invaded your mouth, trickling down your throat with the same side effect as an aphrodisiac.

With every kiss Peter sped up his frantic motions, rendering you brainless on his dick as you could only focus on the slapping of skin and wet noises of your soaking pussy.

You were about to open your mouth to tell him to hurry up when Peter’s fingers reach between your folds, circling your clit with a steady pace. A loud, shuddering moan echoes around the room.

You don't even realize the noise came from yourself until you feel Peter’s shoulders move against your own because due to his cocky laughs. Airhead.

He was going so fast you couldn’t tell whether he was thrusting in or out, you could only feel an overwhelming pleasure consuming your mind and body.

Just when you thought you were on the brink of feeling the epitome of heaven itself, a buzzing vibration echoed deep within your walls, sending you into a frenzy.

You writhed and clawed at Peter’s back, a wordless plea for him to continue. Faster, Faster. Please.

He mumbled incoherently, which would’ve made you chuckle if you had the ability to do so, as his hips stuttered against your own, hitting a spot that had you clenching his buzzing cock like a vice.

With the remaining piece of consciousness you had left, you reached up to yank on Peter’s hair, forcing his head back as the building pleasure inside you exploded.

Peter let out a wordless cry as the hot coil of tension in his belly snapped, and white hot pleasure took its place.

He was dimly aware that you let out the most beautiful, sexy noise he’d ever heard as you tightened your hold around him, but he was more preoccupied by his cock filling you to the brim of cum that splattered your pulsing walls.

His skin prickled pleasantly, his ears ringing and his vision blurred, and he felt completely weightless. His vision darkened and he held you tight and panted his release into your neck.

“Shiiit,” he gasped, lifting his hips away from you as his cock softened and became too sensitive to be touched.

His arm muscles shook as he hoisted himself away from you, and collapsed onto the couch beside you.

Staring up at the ceiling, Peter let an exhausted grin cross his face as a few aftershocks rolled through him. Gaze shifted, He admired you as you came down from your high, moving to the bathroom to wash your hands and get a rag to clean yourselves up.

When you came back you went to wipe you down, but Peter took the rag from you.

“Sit. I get to take care of yer now. I owe it to yer, babe.” Concentrated, he wiped your dripping cunt with the rag, then making his way to the bathroom to get rid of the dirty towel.

When he came back you were still sitting on the edge of the bed. You smiled meekly up at him and reached out a hand, which Peter eagerly took, gladly letting you pull him in for a hug, with him standing between your knees.

“I really like you, you know.” You said, head resting on Peter’s chest as he stared down at you.

“I know. I really like yer too, babe.”

In answer, you shifted slightly and tilted your head up to face Peter’s flushed cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, and you felt his smile as he pulled away. You could feel his breath as he moved to the side of your face, and placed a kiss on what you were sure was a very rosy apple of your cheek.

As you settled down together for the remaining hours of the night, the tense air between you and Peter had diminished, morphing into one of that had you giddy and excited.

You needed to bring out the movie nights more often.

~~~~

When morning rose and you walked into the briefing room the next morning, you were wearing a scarf, despite the hot Westchester heat. You hadn’t quite caught Peter in time, and he had in fact left a mark.

Of course the whole team noticed.

“Hey, twinkle toes, did you guys have another movie night?” Scott asked from his seat at the back of the room. Luckily Peter was facing away from him, so Scott didn’t see how his immediate reaction was to blanche at the memories from the night before. He gathered himself quickly.

“Yer, of course, what’s it to yer?” Peter asked shortly as he turned around, stirring a coffee with six sugars mixed into it.

Scott’s attention was on you, as you were talking to Kurt on the other side of the room.

“That scarf is only there to hide something, I think our lovely lady might’ve got some last night.” Scott said with a smug smirk. “Don’t let it break your heart, you still have a chance!” He turned to Peter and clapped him on the shoulder, who was blushing intensely at the tease. You had, in fact, ‘got some’, and he was the some you got with.

Scott soon noticed Peter was off, as normally he would be granted with some teasing retort or slap against the back of the head.

“C’mon, I’m just teasing. She probably didn’t get a chance to-” While he was talking, Peter caught your eye from across the room.

You smirked at him and waved, and he smiled and waved back.

Scott cut himself off when he saw Peter’s wave, turning to see just as your face turned back to Kurt. “Oh my god. You crazy man, you actually did it!” Scott exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders. Peter pursed his lips to try and contain his smile as he nodded. “My man!” Scott exclaimed, pulling him into an awkward hug.

Peter caught your eye again over Scott’s shoulder, and the smile you gave him made him smile right back.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #xmen peter maximoff #peter maximoff smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters headcannons

[icannot3]

"The Sock Rule"

Peter Maximoff x reader

Part 2!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: explicit content at the end.

....................

"We should have a sock rule."

Peter smiled, clunky suitcase in hand. One of many taken from the large moving truck parked out in front of the apartment complex. You hardly had to move any of your own things into the empty flat. He'd already carried the entirety inside within seconds. "What's a sock rule?"

"Ah- ya' know, where if one of us gets some, you throw a sock on the door so that the other knows." He explains the concept so casually. "Pssht, It's like roommates code in a bunch of movies." It was fascinating Peter would say that, considering the only roommate he's ever had in the past was his mother. You'd wondered if he'd ever left a sock on the door for her. You snickered at the thought of her not understanding the concept and looking at it with disgust, thinking he was just piling his dirty laundry everywhere around the house. Except now it was you, his best friend, living with him. "I think you actually have to get laid for that to apply." He snorted at your response. "I get plenty of bitches!" His hand raises for dramatic effect, extending to the side of his head in a swiping motion. Peter's fingers trail through his unmaintained silver locs. "They can't handle my irresistible charm." He brings his arm down and ruffles his metallic-colored jacket with fake finesse. You bend over to tear the tape off of one of the boxes. "You referring to hot women as 'bitches' tells me that you get no bitches." His playful eye roll assured you that there was no harsh sentiment taken. Truthfully, Peter is an attractive man. Both physically and emotionally. Part of you thought about his proposal and worried he may actually bring girls over quite often.

Suddenly, you hear a dramatic shriek followed by Peter hastily grabbing his foot. "Fuck! I stepped on something." He winced, inspecting his injured foot. He'd stepped on a nail, a large one. You'd hurried over, guiding him to one of the stray chairs that had already been moved. "God damn, Peter, we just moved in, and you already need a tetanus shot." You were laughing, trying to make light of the situation. Turning around, you scavenge through the opened boxes and eventually find the bathroom supplies. You pull out rubbing alcohol and some cotton pads.

"How deep is it?" Your voice is laced with underlying concern. Peter chuckles, "That's what she said." You roll your eyes and playfully smack his arm. "We've already discussed that you get no bitches. That's why you live with me." You felt a small pang of remorse after making the comment, wishing the platonic bit of this living agreement was not the case. Carefully, you'd taken the nail out of his shoe, stripping his foot bare. In that moment, you'd realized that nothing said friendzoned more than a man's smelly toes in your face. The odor was slightly pungent, causing your nose to wrinkle at the stench. Peter took note of this, jerking his leg away with insecurity. "I can do it." He leaned forward in opposition, trying to grab the sanitizer from your hands. "Aht, I've got it. Don't worry, I should have expected it with your powers anyways. You've been running all day. " You consoled him, wetting the cotton ball in your hand with the wound cleaner. The laceration was deep and gushing. Peter was constantly getting hurt. Tending to his wounds became practically a tradition between the two of you. He'd leave for missions, sometimes only for a few hours or, on the contrary, you'd wait worried sick for days. Rest assured, you could always count on nursing him back to health after his return. "I'll count down. Five.. Four.. Three," you'd placed the pad down, liquid hell washing the gash. "That was not five seconds!" Peter choked on an exasperated cry, fist clenching tightly. Through his clenched jaw, he meekly smiles your way. From years of experience, you knew he would have jerked away at the final number, knowing what was to come. Despite all of the stress and the severity of his wounds he'd return with, you'd always be glad to tend to them. "Typically, I don't allow a woman to see my feet until the first date."

"Like you'd ever go on a date with me." You scoffed, looking up from your squatting position on the floor below him. Only to meet his unfamiliar serious gaze. "Of course I would." Your face was red hot, and your stomach was folded into a tight knot. Shifting your eyes back to the wound you were attending, your hands dab dry tissue paper to the wetness. "I'm really considering taking you to the E.R. for that shot now." You raised a brow at him quizzically. Swiftly, a bandage encased with secure gauze is wrapped around his foot by your gentle touch. "I really mean it. Any guy would be lucky to have you. They'd have a nurse and a girlfriend in one!" He wiggles his toes, "See? This fine craftsmanship will have me healed in no' time." Just like that, he was carefree and casual once more. You pat his leg twice, beginning to stand. "You should lay down and stay off of that foot today." You smile widely at him, offering your arm for help. He gladly obliged, allowing you to support the weight he couldn't apply to his foot on the way to his room. All of the furniture had already been moved in, courtesy of Peter. His full-sized bed sat in the middle of the small room. You looked at the blank walls, trying to imagine where he would place all of the junk that was in his mother's basement he'd brought. Especially the blocky arcade machine. His nightstand, dresser, and TV already filled half of the area. Peter fell onto his bed, stretching out. "You're the best, really." He propped himself up, scooching over to the other side of the mattress. "You should join me and relax, you've done enough today." He patted the room he'd made for you beside him, motioning you to also lay down. Your face grew heated once more. "I really shouldn't. There's just a few more things I want to get done." In all honestly, you hadn't completed much, Peter was the one who carried most of the boxes in.

"Pleaseeee, come on!" Peter grows more insistent. "This is a day to celebrate no longer living in someone's basement!" He continues to pat the empty part of the bed with more vigor. You let out a dry cackle, "You mean your Mom's basement?" Peter shrugs, "tomatoe, toma'toe." You yourself had lived with someone prior until they'd decided to move in with their respective partner. You finally agreed, flopping down beside him. His bed is surprisingly soft, the thick comforter on top adding a layer of plush. "Well, we should watch a movie or something." Immediately, he was handing you the stack of DVDs that sat on his nightstand. You skimmed through, most were comedies as expected. You opted for the one with Adam Sandler's face on it and stuck it into the DVD player. Laying back down in your spot, Peter inched slightly closer to fit comfortably on the bed. He smelled faintly sweet, as if all of the twinkies in his diet had left behind a permanent aroma. Speaking of, he wasted little to no time in opening a fresh box of the yellow Hostess Snackcakes to satisfy his craving. He tilted the box in your direction, allowing you to indulge in his stash. You reach in and grab one before hitting play.

You felt contempt despite laying in Peter's bed, which is a considerably peturbing situation. Part of you wondered why he was so insistent on you laying with him. Your mind couldn't process the meaning behind what he'd said earlier, claiming he would go out on a date with you. Peter is a simple man. When he says something, he's honest. There's never been a reason to suspect anything behind his words. But when he said that, he had to of meant something else. You regretted brushing it off and not immediately asking for his clarification earlier. There was no way to casually bring it up again. Although, you knew it would eat you alive. Each passing second of you saying nothing would make the next more awkward and undoable. "How does your foot feel?" You finally choke out something to break the tension only you seemed to feel. He looks over with a contempt smile, "I feel great honestly, it doesn't even bother me anymore." His face is noticeably close to yours, but he doesn't move. "When you said earlier that you would date me, what did that mean?" Your heart accelerates, blood rushing to your face.

His face was red, too, which was hopefully a good sign. Peter's eyes looked spaced out, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Slowly, he leaned up and turned his torso to face you. "You're perfect, babe. Any guy in the world couldn't possibly be dumb enough not to see that. I've never met someone so beautiful, both inside and out." His thumbs twirl around each other, and he breaks his eye contact with you. "You just have this irresistible thing about you I can't put into words. Sorry if that all sounds a little weird. You can smack me or somethin' if you want." He laughs through his nose, still looking slightly bashful. It was strange to see him act differently than his typical cocky attitude. You took a shaky inhale, all of your emotions bubbling to the surface. Adrenaline was coursing through your body, making you feel like you're going to explode. "Well, I don't really want any other guys that aren't you in my life." Peter's head leans back against his bedframe, a goofy smile plastered on his expression. "Well, if you wanna ever be more than just roomies, I could definitely make that happen."

You weren't sure how it started, but your body seemed to have worked on some primal instinct. Just seconds later, your lips were on his. Peter wasted no time, pulling you close and practically on top of him. The kisses were long and needy. His hands were trailing up the curve of your spine, strong arms encasing around you. You gasped at the contact, breaking the kiss. "God, you're so smokin'." His deep exhale ghosted over your lips. You laughed, resisting the urge to call him a nerd and kissing him even deeper. Peter turned, flipping you over and beneath him. Your thighs were surrounding his leg, which was deliciously pressing against you. His mouth trailed to your neck, licking the sensitive areas and making you shut your eyes with delight. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together. He was pressing it down beside your head while the other was teasingly playing with the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up at your waist.

His ministrations continued, sloppy kisses being placed down your chest. He was polite and careful not to touch you anywhere he considered too private. The sentiment was sweet. To help him, you took his hand and placed it on your breast, allowing him to feel. His eyes lit up with shock as he looked up at you. "Are you sure?" You nodded avidly, desperate to feel his touch. He squeezed you gently with his palm, reveling in the sensation. "You have no clue how long I've wanted to do this." His other hand reaches up for your free breast, doing the same. You stop him, pulling your shirt off. His jaw drops dramatically. Peter's eyes are far from subtle, looking you up and down hungrily.

"So, who's sock should we use?" He smiles cunningly, giggling at his comment. You smack him with your shirt, rolling your eyes jokingly with a sigh.

"Eh, I don't think my roomate will care."

#peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff #x men #fluff #smut #peter maximoff smut? #possible pt2 #evan peters #peter maximoff x reader

[yes-divine-ruler]

Bright Star - Peter Maximoff

x gn!reader

Summary: Peter and reader are working on a group assignment together and have a secret crush on one another.

CW: heavy petting, kissing, no gender dominant body parts or pet names or compliments

wc: 1.64k

You weren’t ever too sure about Peter Maximoff. He always seemed like a troubled kid, loud, interruptive, and he never took things seriously. But when he wanted to be, he was kind, and knew the answer to almost everything in your shared classes. So when you were partnered up with him for your final group assignment for Literature, you didn’t know what to expect, or how to feel. At first you thought he might try to run the shop by not letting you contribute any of your ideas to the analysis paper. But as time went on, and you got to know each-other better, you found out that he was deeply misunderstood. And actually really cute and charming.

“Peter? Will you read that to me again?” You sat cross legged on the carpeted floor of Peter’s basement, chewing on the end of your click pen. Peter was too busy playing table tennis with himself to notice you’d called out to him. Dropping the pencil down on your notebook, you let out a frustrated sigh, standing to get his attention.

“Peter!”

Startled, he stopped short, turning towards you with his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah? You alright?” He asked, putting down the paddle and appearing in front of you.

“Yes Peter, I just wanted to get this part done,” you explained, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Peter was always thinking of the next fun thing to do after working on your project got boring, and that left you quite often pleading with him to pay attention.

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry,” he lets out a small sigh, running a hand through his silver hair before you both sat back on the ground.

“What will it take for you to work on this with me for an hour? Do we have to make a deal?” You joke with a light chuckle. Peter jumped at the opportunity to compromise, knowing that he could work if he really wanted to, and that the deal would then be in his favour.

“A deal hey?” He asks, resting his chin in his hands, looking up at you with sparkling eyes.

“Yes, whatever you want for 1 hour of your precious time,” you scoff, picking up your pen again to work. As a person without a mutation, you knew you’d never fully understand him, and it was best to just be patient. It was your final year, and the final assignment you ever had to do. The end was in sight, meaning you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer - you struggled to admit to yourself that it would actually make you sad not hanging out with Peter almost every day after school.

“I’m not gonna tell you until the hour is up,” Peter teases, retrieving the book for your paper from the couch and opening it to a dog-eared page.

“Okay read it again for me, and this time slowly,” you emphasise on the word “slowly”, watching him let out a small laugh, shifting on the floor to get comfortable.

“Okay, ready?”

“Yes, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter takes a deep breath before beginning the poem, “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,” he looks up at you, before continuing.

“And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,” Peter reads clearly, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to decipher the words. You’re skimming over your notes, making sure all of them make sense. Peter memorises the poem in an instant, wanting rather to watch you work than have his eyes glued to the book.

“The moving waters at their priestlike task, Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,” Peter rests his hands in his lap, noticing the way your lips part and your tongue juts out only slightly when you concentrate. He notices you fiddling with the edge of your notebook, your fingertips grazing the spiral as it winds to bound the book. He notices how effortlessly pretty you are, and how committed you’ve been to this assignment. He thought it was so funny that you were so oblivious to his blatant staring. He suddenly lets out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding in.

“Peter?” You ask, the same annoyance bubbling inside you from when he didn’t pay attention before.

“Right,” Peter shakes his head from his thoughts and returns to reciting the poem, “Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask, Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—”

You hadn’t noticed you’d leaned slightly into Peter, your shoulders brushing. Peter suddenly feels warm, his shoulder tingling where you were touching him. His heartbeat hammered in his ears as he licked his lips, readying himself to read the next part.

“No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,” he thought of how cunning his side of the deal was, and how much more tempting it got the longer you touched him. It was a gamble, but it was one he was willing to take.

Peter rested his hand on his thigh, inching his fingers closer to your joined knees.

“To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,”

You look up at Peter, finally noticing how close the two of you had gotten, but doing nothing about the close proximity. Something felt different, the air was harder to breathe, and your stomach felt like it was housed by a million butterflies. His eyes shun as they looked into yours, your faces inching closer and closer.

“And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

When silence filled the room, accompanied by the small pants of your breathing, you pulled your body away, sitting up straighter and looking more alert.

“Good reading Peter,” you let out a small cough to cover the awkwardness that had just washed over you. Fuck, you were so close to kissing him, and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was because the poem was so romantic, and you were sitting so close - it just felt like the right thing to do. You scowled at yourself for being so cliche, and put down your notebook. Peter bit his lip in a smile as your cheeks blushed red because he knew you’d felt that too.

“Okay, deal time?”

You know you asked for an hour, but a break right now didn’t seem so bad.

“Okay,” you say, as he scoots his bottom across the floor to face you.

“One kiss,” he says finally, your jaw swinging open in shock. A kiss? Was he serious? Did you hear that right?

“Peter, a kiss?” You repeat, confused. You hadn’t read that Peter felt anything for you, the same way you hid having a big fat crush on him by being sort of mean.

“Can be just on the cheek?” He says with a small, hopeful smile, tapping his cheek with his forefinger.

Your lips form a tight straight line as you contemplate your choices. Give up the tough guy act now and cave to your feelings, or don’t. It was like Peter was giving you the perfect opportunity to do what you always thought of doing.

“Okay, only one,” you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a curt nod.

“Of course, I mean, only if you want to,” he gives you the option, but his eyes are pleading with you to go through with it.

You lean forward, securing a small kiss on his cheek, almost too close to the corner of his mouth as it curled into a small smile. Your lips linger there for a moment, before you pull away, just slightly, your face still so close to Peter’s. You contemplate whether you should just go for it, regardless of whether your inexperience reveals itself, since after all he was the one that suggested it,. But before you could decide what you wanted to do, Peter does it for you, connecting your lips in a soft, passionate kiss.

It takes you aback, but you compose yourself quickly, cupping his cheeks in your hands, as his secure to your hips. He pulls you closer, until you’re practically in his lap, straddling his hips with your thighs. His tongue prods at your lower lip, and without another thought, you open your mouth, letting his tongue explore where no one else has. The feeling was magical, and after all those nights you lay awake thinking of this moment, it finally came in full force.

You had to pull away with a gasp when Peter’s hand started to cup your bare ass under your shorts, your hands resting comfortably on his shoulders as you stared at each other.

“Fuck I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-”

“No! It’s fine, I just, I’ve never been that like- intimate with someone before,” you let out a nervous laugh, wanting so badly to crawl into a hole and die from your confession. Peter only lets out a small laugh, the back of his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

“It’s fine- I’m not super experienced either,” he reveals, breaking eye contact for a second to look down, “but I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Really?” You ask him, your voice only just louder than a whisper.

“Yeah! I mean- you’re so smart and pretty, and we’ve spent a lot of time together, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you,” he blushes bright red and it’s your turn to reassure him.

“I’ve felt the same way,” you reply, pulling Peter in for a hug, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He holds you close, before you sit back down on the floor across from him.

“So… you think I’m pretty?” He asks, shooting you a cheeky wink. You roll your eyes again, letting out a small laugh - Peter always knew how to break the ice.

“Yeah I guess you’re pretty too.”

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters requests #evan peters x reader #evan peters imagine #american horror story #2nd person pov #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter Maximoff fluff #fluff #Evan peters fluff #quicksilver #quicksilver fluff #marvel #x men days of future past #x men fanfiction #x men imagine #x men dark phoenix

[nyrasbloodyclover]

summer days with peter ~

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff fluff #evan peters smut #evan peters moodboard #evan peters fanfic #evan peters x reader #evan peters #kai anderson fanfic #kai anderson fanfiction #kit walker #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #xmen #x men x reader

[arysbruv]

Confess N’ Run!

You were Peter’s best friend, though… you always wished you were more. Yet, he never seemed that interested in you until a certain cold day.

Pairings: peter maximoff x reader

Warnings and whatnots: Friends to lovers. Angst. Fluff.

You walked in the cold winter, blowing into your hands which did basically nothing. The wind blew at you. You huffed, angry that you decided to go out today.

Suddenly, you got a call on your phone. You clicked your tongue, annoyed, as you answer the call.

“Hello? I’m kinda busy right now.” You say as you continue thrudging in the cold winter.

“Wow, I was just going to ask if you wanted company.” A familiar male voice says.

Peter.

You hadn’t even checked who was calling you but of course it was Peter. Your best friend. You’ve been friends since childhood and you absolutely loved the guy… maybe in more ways than he loved you… but it was alright, you were still his friend and he was still yours.

“What- What do you mean?”

Suddenly a colder gust of wind hits your side. You shiver as you look and see a bundled up Peter, standing beside you. He gives you a lopsided smile. You roll your eyes at him, though you were smiling under your scarf.

“Hi Pete. Nice of you to join me.”

He gives you a smile, touching your shoulder which sends a jolt throughout your entire body. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from him…

“Mind if I walk you back?” He asks grinning ah you as you start walking. You didn’t even say anything as he quickly follows you. The walk back was quieter than usual. You blamed it on the cold when you knew it was probably because you were too nervous to talk to your long time crush, even if he was your current best friend.

How embarrassing, liking a boy who you see every day but only thinks of you as a friend.

You shiver, not knowing if it was from the cold wind blowing on you or from the sudden company of your crush.

“Are you alright?” Peter asks, breaking the silence. You look up from the ground which you have been staring at to avoid the cold wind. You give him a perplexed look.

“Cold.” you say as an explanation.

“Cold? It’s not even that cold!” Peter says, walking a circle around you full of energy. You roll your eyes at him. Ignoring him as you try to move away. The cold was getting to you, you clasps your hands together, rubbing them together and blowing on them. A futile attempt to maintain heat.

Suddenly, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulders. You straighten up and notice a new jacket has appeared on your shoulders. It was big and silver in colour, a plethora of patches decorating its sleeve. You look from the jacket to the now jacket-less Peter.

“Pete…” You start before he shuts you up by punching your shoulder.

“ ‘s alright, I can’t let my girl get cold now, can I?” He says, giving you a large grin and laughing to himself.

My girl.

My.

His

Could he? No… You ignore it, maybe he just meant my girl best friend or something… You weren’t his type…

Before you could do anything, he puts his baby blue beanie on your head. He gives you a giant smile as he did it. The smile. That smile that made you fold every time you saw it. Oh how beautiful was he!

You admired him as he came closer to fix up the beanie on your head. Your eyes fixed on him as he fits the beanie on your head. His hair was mess-ied with cowlicks here and there, yet, it added to his charm. Your face turns red as you notice how close you were to each other.

His eyes wander down to you. His eyes that carried so much joy and emotion. They were calm at that second, no hint of hidden energy. He stops adjusting the beanie, looking at you. He gives you a small smile before going back to pushing your hair into the beanie. You blush, and you swore you saw a small hint of blush taint his cute face.

There’s no possible way…

You quickly avert your eyes. Deep in thought of the sudden hope he just gave you. Was he playing with your feelings? You were pulled back to the reality to the sound of your name being called. You look up at him, humming in response. He gives you a small smile.

“I love you.”

He brings your forehead to his lips and gives a quick peck, before you could do anything he had run off to God knows where.

You were left standing in the cold snow, on your house’s street. Confused and bewildered on the scene that had unfolded in front of you. You stand, frozen in shock.

He kissed you.

HE kissed YOU.

You pull his jacket closer as you continue walking, grumbling that you’ll have to go out soon again to find the man who had just confessed and run.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #peter maximoff angst #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #evan peters #xmen #peter maximoff fanfiction

[eleonoraalbright]

Do You Want To Know A Secret?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Excerpt: You felt a deep sense of sadness settle in the bottom of your stomach, for now you were convinced that he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps if you had the tiniest bit of courage, you could tell Peter about your secret crush on him.

Your window was opened to the warm evening air, and the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was a peaceful sight. Kids and teenagers were scattered on the lawn, either playing frisbee or basketball, some sat in circles laughing at the antics of those around them. All of the students seemed content and happy.

You weren’t. You sat in your bedroom by the window looking out at the scene feeling somewhat alienated from your peers, and jealous. It wasn’t the little kids running or the friends competing among each other you were jealous of; it was the couples. The couples that were blatantly making out, holding hands, or simply cuddled up together.

Scott and Jean were sitting down on the grass chatting. A young boy threw the frisbee in the wrong direction and it came hurtling towards Scott, whose back was turned and didn’t notice. Luckily, Jean did.

With her telekinetic abilities, she stopped the projectile and returned it to the grateful boy. Scott thanked his girlfriend by trailing kisses down her neck, whispering in her ear. Even from a distance, you could see Jean blush under his attention. You wanted that. Not from Scott but from someone else.

Your gaze turned back toward the picture you held in your hands. It was taken almost a year ago when the school had a summer party to celebrate the end of the semester. In the photo, you and Peter Maximoff were sitting down on a bench eating watermelon slices. Peter wore his ridiculous Hawaiian swim trunks decorated with a variety of tropical birds.

The day had been a blast filled with swimming, water balloon fights, tasty food, wonderful company, and your first kiss, sort of. Peter had kissed you on the cheek at the night’s end. When it happened your heart nearly exploded from excitement. For a time, you had hoped it was the beginning of a romance between you and him, but alas it was not. You didn’t see much of him last summer, and neither you nor him had made any steps into a relationship in the past year.

Your fingers brushed the picture of Peter’s face, and you felt a deep sense of sadness settle in the bottom of your stomach, for now you were convinced that he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps if you had the tiniest bit of courage, you could tell him about your secret crush on him but every time an opportunity arose for you to act, you’d get cold feet and leave before he’d suspect anything.

Sighing, you leaned your head against the wall trying to think of something other than Peter. You focused on your record player in front of you. The vinyl spinning around and around was hypnotizing and you relaxed for a moment, listening to John Lennon’s voice sing “Baby It’s You”.

Uh, oh, it doesn't matter what they say I know I'm gonna love you any old way What can I do, and it's true Don't want nobody, nobody

Cause baby, it's you

To help with your melancholy mood, you put on the Beatles’ first album Please Please Me. Now, when paying close attention to the lyrics, your thoughts drifted towards Peter again. You wanted him but he didn’t want you. Briefly, you were glad when the song changed but soured again when the song was “Do You Want To Know A Secret?”

Maybe a collection of love songs wasn’t the best idea to listen to when trying to forget about your crush. In irritation at the band singing about love, you almost threw the disc across your room. However, you calmed yourself, it wouldn't help your situation to destroy it. Besides, your dad bought the record when he was your age and gifted it to you as a present for your last birthday. 

Taking deep breaths in and out, you felt a rush of air beside you. Your stomach dropped when you saw who caused it. Peter, handsome as ever, was standing next to you, wearing his signature silver jacket and goggles. "Hey, whatcha up to?"

You pressed the picture to your front, covering it as much as you could with your hands. You hoped he wouldn't pay attention to the song, see the photo, and connect the dots. "Uh, nothing much. Just listening to some music."

Peter picked up the cover of the album and raised an eyebrow. "The Beatles? Seriously?" He questioned in mock disappointment. 

You shrugged your shoulders. "It's a good band, and I like this song." The record spun faster, and both of you were silent as George Harrison sang out:

Closer, let me whisper in your ear Say the words you long to hear I'm in love with you, ooh

Fidgeting, you glanced between the record player and Peter, feeling nervous. Peter did the same with you, though he seemed unbothered. You tapped your fingers tensely, wondering what possible course of action to take so you could slip away. It wouldn't be too random to jump out the window and army crawl through the bushes to escape, right?

Peter opened his mouth to speak, and fearing what might come out of his mouth, you said, "Yeah my dad bought it when he was younger, and he asked my mom out while they danced to this. She loves telling that story, always saying that without this song I might not have been born. So that's one of the reasons I like it, and it's a good song."

You stopped rambling, and noticed Peter had a curious expression on his face. "Do girls actually like that?"

"Huh?"

"That cheesy romance stuff, like your mom did. Girls like that?"

"Umm..." Your brain seemed to have short circuited at his question. "I mean it depends on the girl. Some girls do and some don't. Also depends on the circumstances, and who's asking is pretty important too." You let out a chuckle at the end, attempting to alleviate a bit of the awkwardness. 

Peter held the album for a few more seconds, digesting the information. He tossed the cover on your bed and asked, "Well, speaking of pleasing me, do you wanna go to 7-Eleven. A little bird told me they got a new shipment of twinkies." He had a lopsided grin on his face. 

You would've said yes, been happy to spend any amount of time with Peter, but now being in his company was unbearable. It was difficult having to joke, laugh, talk, and pretend you were content to be with him but not be with him. You couldn't keep up the façade. Not now. You replied, breaking eye contact, "I'm sorry, Pete. I don't want to right now."

"It'll take less than a minute. We can get some silly string too. Scott's room is lookin' real drab and it needs a bit of color stop to liven it up," he coaxed.

"No, I have a headache. I just want to be alone this evening." You gave him a sad smile, hoping he'd understand.

Peter was unhappy that you wouldn't come with him, but didn't pester any further. He nodded and departed without another word. You returned to gazing at the window, feeling dissatisfied with Peter's friendship and frustrated at your inability to tell him the truth.

"I'm glad I could come, Peter."

"Yeah, it's been a while since we hung out."

It was a hot July day in the suburbs of D.C. where you were staying with the Maximoff's. Over summer break, you had grown bored at home, so you decided to pay your favorite speedster a visit. An ample time had elapsed since that evening in May, that you felt confident enough to be around Peter without becoming a stuttering lovestruck fool.

You had even gone out with a couple of dudes to get your mind off him. But now, with the two of you alone in his basement, your mind wandered over to possible romantic scenarios that could happen. You mentally rebuked yourself for thinking such things about your friend. Maybe there was some cute guy in a movie you could obsess over instead of Peter.

To distract yourself, you started looking through his extensive collection of stolen albums. He had all of Pink Floyd’s, including Atom Mother Heart, Meddle, Obscured by Clouds, and Dark Side of the Moon which was his favorite. 

"So, what do you feel like listening to?" You asked Peter who was playing Ms. Pac-Man on the other side of the room. Just as you were about to suggest Obscured by Clouds, he sped off and appeared again, this time closer to you, holding up a new one. It was Please Please Me.

"I was thinking of this one." He put it on his record player and fast-forward through a few songs until "Do You Want To Know A Secret" started playing. He held out his hand to you. Shocked by his actions, you took his hand hesitantly.

He put his other hand on your waist and began swaying. Peter was dancing with you! You tried to regain your composure and hoped he couldn't hear your heart beating a zillion miles per hour. 

You'll never know How much I really love you You'll never know How much I really care

You tried to begin a conversation to preoccupy yourself from the warm sensation spreading throughout your body but was stopped by Peter whispering in your ear. “Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell?” You stiffened at his words. "Closer, let me whisper in your ear. Say the words you long to hear."

He murmured the lyrics along with the song as it played. He continued, "I've known a secret for a week or two. Nobody knows, just we two." Peter twirled you around once then brought you closer to him. His lips brushed against your ears once more as he continued his soft singing. "Say the words you long to hear. I'm in love with you."

Tingles traveled up your spine when he said the romantic words. You looked him dead in the eyes, determining if this was all a giant joke, Peter being a jerk and playing with your tangled emotions, or if he was genuine. He returned your gaze and explained, "Technically it's been more than a week but that's what the song says."

You gaped at him. "Peter, are- are you serious? Are you joking?" You swallowed all of your apprehension and hardened your voice. "Cause if you are, I'll knock you into next Tuesday."

He gave a small chuckle at your reaction. "I wouldn't be slow dancing with you in my basement if I didn't like you." He emphasized the slow part to get his point across. However, something was off about Peter, he licked his lips, and looked, dare you say it, scared?

You realized he was waiting for you to say if you liked or didn't like him back. The thought made you smile. The fact that you, of all people, could make Peter nervous. How the tables had turned. You contained the laughter bubbling up inside you and answered, "I like you too, Peter."

His worried expression was quickly replaced with a cocky grin. "Huh, who knew this cheesy romance stuff worked?"

"Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

"Yeah, I should thank your dad next time I see him for the tip."

You let out a breathy laugh at his comment, before gingerly pressing your lips against his. He kissed back. You broke away first and rested your head on his shoulder. Peter hummed in contentment.

He whispered, "You know, I could get used to going this slow with you." In his cluttered basement, you and Peter danced to the Beatles, stopping more often than not to kiss each other. You were glad that his and your affections were no longer secret anymore. 

Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell, whoa, oh Closer, let me whisper in your ear Say the words you long to hear I'm in love with you

Taglist: @spderm4nnnn

#peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel #x reader #peter maximoff x fem!reader #quicksilver x you

[quickiesgirl]

Can you write reader is Charles daughter x Quicksilver?and she's very introverted?!? She has the same powers as Charles where she newly joined the other mutants and also she was the youngest one like 18-20y/o

Sorry, this took so long for me to finish. I've been overloaded with requests. Hopefully, you like it! <3

Study Buddies - Peter Maximoff

Paring: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Xavier Reader Warning: Friends To Lovers, Introverted!Reader, Shared First Kiss, Playful Teasing.

You were an introvert for as long as your father could remember. Charles always noticed how shy and silent you were towards others.

While kids were outside playing together, you were enjoying your own company. Only ever open and vulnerable to people you felt most comfortable around. 

Not long after the X-men were formed, you had turned 19, and your father finally allowed you to join. You were Xavier's daughter to your fellow members. A very reserved yet observant, strong, and powerful mutant. 

One member, a certain silver-haired speedster, craved your affection. He wanted to know more about you and yearned to share those deep and intimate moments with you.  

You had met Peter throughout the chaos of the apocalypse. Now, he was moved into the bedroom beside yours with another teammate, Scott Summers. 

On this particular day, you headed down the long, empty corridors of the school while all the kids were in class. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the halls, and the muffled voices became clearer from your father's study. 

The closer you got you recognized that fast-speaking, gruff sounded voice. It was Peter. You peeked into the open doors, locking eyes with his dark brown gaze that adored you so sweetly in passing. 

You eyed him for a quick second, taking in all the features you adored, like his dimples that formed when those soft, kissable lips curled into a smile and that cute little beauty mark on his nose. 

You glanced back down and began heading up the wooden staircase, squeezing the books encased in your arms tightly as a fluttering sensation filled your stomach and warmth filled your cheeks. 

“Oh, Y/n?” You stopped in your tracks and took a step back while you heard your father's voice call you. You turned around on your toes and walked over to his study, “Yeah, dad?” 

“Peter is having a bit of difficulty with his studies. Would you mind helping him?” Charles asked, glancing between the two of you. 

“Uh, yeah, of course, I’ll help.” 

-

You knocked on the bedroom door and felt a light breeze of wind across your body as the door opened in a blink of an eye. 

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Peter smiled as he nervously shoved his hands in the tight leather pockets of his pant, trying to cover up the fact that he was practically star-struck by how cute you looked in your oversized shirt and your favorite pair of black jeans that notably hugged your beautiful hips. 

You could feel his eyes wandering across your body, and it took everything to keep you from seeing what was in that pretty boy's mind. 

“Of course! I’m happy to help. Ready to study?” 

“Yeah, I believe so. Come on in,” Peter said, holding the door open. You walked into his surprisingly neat bedroom, cleaned up last minute, especially for this occasion, and sat on the end of his striped mattress, taking a moment to admire the small rock band posters across his side of the room. You two shared a great love for music.

“You have great taste.” You pointed towards the wall, watching the man speed across you on the mattress, laying the study material between you two. 

“So do you.” He added, noticing you tilt your head in curiosity, wondering what he knew, “oh, uh, I hear your music in the middle of the night. Hendrix, Bowie, Depeche Mode, Rolling Stones. They’re some of my favorites.” 

 “Mine too.” You say, sweetly smiling, your lashes fluttering up at him. He catches himself before he gets lost in your eyes and clears his throat. His pink tongue pushed out and licked his bottom lip with one quick swipe.

“So, Scott snuck off to Jean’s room. Luckily, we won’t have to hear him complaining about how loud and noisy we’re being.” #

Your eyebrows perked as the sudden realization hit him, embarrassment rushing over his face, not expecting to make a fool of himself this early on. 

“T-that isn’t what it s-sounds like.” He studdered, listening to you giggle softly behind your hand, finding it adorable. 

-

Peter sat across you, doing his very best to concentrate though he was struggling, something about your soft touches, smiles, and reassurance only made it better. 

This boy made you feel comfortable like you could be yourself around him. Then you realized, your father did this on purpose. 

Charles could see how much you truly adored this boy, and he knew this would be a great bonding experience. Putting the two of you together was giving you a little push that you wouldn’t normally get, helping you out of your shell to make a move, and so far, you were seeing sparks. 

“Fuck yes!” Peter grinned happily after getting all your questions correct, pulling you from your train of thought. 

The silver-haired man leaned back against the wall, arms crossing behind his head with his chest puffed out as he playfully boasted about his success, “I’m pretty much a pro at this point.” 

“Your very cute when your bragging.” You teasingly smiled, finding it even adorable when he attempted to hide that pretty, blushing face of his. 

“Well, you're a very cute teacher, Ms. Xavier.” 

Your cheeks grew warm to the touch, experiencing the same feelings as him. You glanced down, picking at a piece of paper before looking back into his dark, lustful eyes, speaking softly, “I-I really enjoy hanging out with you, Pete.”

“Really? You do?” He asked, expression changing to surprise, mouth slightly widened, brows raised as he brought his arms down and rested his elbows upon his knees. 

“Yeah. You're so sweet to me, and I feel so comfortable around you.” 

Peter's eyes traveled between your eyes and lips. One thing on his mind, and that was how badly he wanted to kiss those perfect lips of yours. Butterflies filled your stomach while you leaned forward, moving your body towards his, hands straddling his knees, sending chills down his spine. 

Peter’s lips were inches away from yours before the door suddenly swung open, startling the both of you, and causing your body to jolt back from his. 

There was Scott, interrupting the moment, “Hey, dude, where’s my- oh... My bad, I didn’t think you had company… I’ll uh leave you guys to it.” 

The door shut quickly, and looking back, resting your hand comfortably upon his knee, “I better get going anyway so you can get some rest for tomorrow’s test.” 

“Y-yeah, you’re right.” He nodded understandably, mind racing with a billion thoughts, unable to get that picture out of his mind of your bodies moving together, lips being closer than ever. But, before he knew it, the night was ending, he helped you to the door and thanked you sweetly for everything. 

As you stepped out of the door, you felt your regret rush over you, there was still something you wanted to do, and you built your courage before turning around and gazing back at Peter. “Hey, maybe you could come over sometime when you hear my music. We can listen together.” 

“Yeah! I’d love that.” 

You took a step forward and latched your fingers onto the collar of his shirt, “Good…” 

 You stood on your toes and connected your lips with his, sharing a sweet, long-awaited kiss. The speedster's eyes broadened widely before all his thoughts suddenly washed away, melting into a blushing mess of euphoria. 

Peter was soft, gentle, and sweet like sugar. You couldn’t get enough of him. He was perfect. 

As you reluctantly pulled away, you smirked teasingly, whispering into his ear seductively, “Night, Maximoff,” before walking back to your room, hips swaying with pride, leaving the lover boy too stunned to speak. 

Peter Maximoff Fluff Taglist: @rottenstyx @cantthinkofauserlololol @pikachupepito2 @clowwderr

Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x fem!reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff xmen #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver xmen #charles xavier #xmen apocalypse #xmen fanfiction #quickiesgirl writing

[what4wh0re]

little Drabble Ig (Peter Maximoff x normal Fem!Reader)

Authors Note: Hii this is like my first time writing again since like 2020-2019, aka my wattpad era (ToT), so I hope it's not totally horrible! There will 100% be million of grammatical issues and mistakes! -Jaz

Summary: You and Peter are friends who just happen to be roommates. After turning 21 you and Peter decided to get an apartment together since you don't like living alone, and he needs to get out of his mothers basement. Months later he gets a Super Nintendo and decides to show you, and teach you how to play..

warnings: kissing, suggestive comments, fluffiest fluff ever, and bad writing.

You had just gotten done with training some students, and had started getting ready to go home. Then you hear someone clear their throat, you turn to see your favorite boy with silver hair, Peter.

You smile, 'what do you want?' He smirks 'babe, you know I always come to see you after your training'

turning from him to grab your bag off the floor, 'I know, but you look like you need to tell me something' standing up to turn him, he then crouched down, signaling you to get on his back.

'get on, we're goin home' you nodded getting on his back, shutting your eyes and holding him tightly. In seconds you're back at your guy's apartment.

He smiles, leaving you on his bed, 'you can lay down on my bed for a minute, imma go change n' get, The Coolest Thing Ever! You'll love it!' He is such a dork, honestly.

Looking around his room, it matches him so well, like those teen boy rooms from the movies; game posters, arcade machines, light grey walls, book shelves loaded with comics, and the messiest closet ever.

Speaking of closet, you decided to grab one of his shirts and change into it, taking off your previous clothes. Leaving you in his shirt and your shorts, he always has a pair of your shorts in his closet, you're always in his room or he's always in yours.

He comes out in his own merch.

You burst out laughing, taking a photo of him on his polaroid, you take the photo out and hold onto it with your life, as he walks over to you.

'sweetheart, can I see that photo?' He says as sweetly as possible. 'no, I love this photo!' you laugh.

'You haven't even seen it yet, it's not even done developing, hon.'

'so, it's almost done, and I just know that it's a cute photo'

'how so?' you smirk, deciding to tease him a bit 'cause it's you, and you know that you're cute.' He blushes, he's so adorable, he blushes, and always becomes a bit shy after a compliment, especially from you.

He rubs his neck, looking away from you for a moment. 'Yeah, I knew that, I know that. Uhm,' he clears his throat, 'yeah, oh, Oh, I wanted to show you, this,' He pulls a box from his desk drawer, A Super Nintendo box. He grins ear to ear.

'I thought that maybe you'd like to play with me or something, it's two player, so yeah.'

I smiled, sitting up to watch him set the game up. God he is just the best; cute, funny, dorky, and the sweetest boy ever. And he looks so good doing anything, but right know he looks like an angel.

He looks back at you, 'finished, how d'ya like it?' you smile 'I love it'

He sits on the edge of his bed holding the first player controller, giving you the second, you sit next to him, more like on him, but it's not like he minds, he's having the best day ever.

You in his room, with him, laying on him, playing a game with him, looking at him with those eyes. God, he could just die, and it's been like this for almost a month now, you and him together everyday, he just loves life.

you guys continue to play almost every game on the disk for hours, two hours, and 57 minutes. After changing into three different positions to get comfortable you end up, with him laying on your back and you laying on your stomach.

Turning to look at him 'wanna watch a movie and eat snacks?' he nods and scoops you into his arms walking to your room, 'I'd rather eat you, ya know, winking, before you hit his chest jokingly, laughing a bit. He then throws you on the bed, and jumps onto your bed, with you underneath him.

He stares at you, mostly your lips, okay, you're starting at his lips, so what. You think about what would happen if you kissed him. Only for your thoughts to be cut off by his lips.

He kissed you softly, then panicked breaking away, 'Peter, why did you-' he sits up, apologizing like crazy, 'I'm so sorry, I just, oh my god, I didn't mean too, well I did, but I should've asked first, I'm soso-' only to be cut off by your lips.

Grinning as he kissed back pulling you into his lap, 'Oh, so you feel the same?' he questioned your actions 'Peter, I've liked you for a year now. Of course I like you.'

He smiles, cupping your face 'I like you too, I like you like, a lot, a lot. I've been trying to find the right time to say it, but would you officially go on a date with me as my girlfriend?'

You bite back a smile 'Yes, of course. Boyfriend.' kissing him deeper than before, making him settle his hands onto your hips pulling you closer his chest.

____________________________________________________________

So was that like okay, I'm very good at using Tumblr in fact I've never really used Tumblr in a writing/typing setting, so, yeah. Let me know if you like want a part two I guess, idk maybe I'll write smut for it. I'll try to post at least like twice a week. I will probably be writing for like Evan Peters/some of his characters, Jack Champion/some of his characters, and TASM Spiderman/Andrew Garfield. -Jaz

#peter maximoff x reader #x men #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff fluff #x men fluff #evan peters #Evan peters fluff

[ro-is-struggling]

Could I request prompt number 16 with Peter Maximoff (the X-men one), where the reader is the owner of the handcuffs. She’s kind of a nerdy tomboyish type, who’s not suspected because everyone knows she’s got net zero experience when it comes to dating. I think she’d probably have them because what if the opportunity to have sex finally arrived and she didn’t have all of the gear? What sort of fool would she look like then? Maybe not as much of a fool as… say a woman who was explaining her stock pile handcuffs to the guy she still hasn’t confessed to… If possible I’d like it smutty please!

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for participating in the celeration (and sorry it took me so long to get to your request). I had a lot of fun writing this one! I tried to make it smutty but for some reason I couldn't :( It's more funny and fluffy than smutty, but there are a few suggestive okes here and there, I hope you don't mind and that you like it anyways!!

The one with the embarrassing secret || Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: A mysterious pair of black handcuffs is found which leads to a search for their owner and some embarrassing confessions

Warnings: fem!reader, my attempt at humor, suggestive tones, fluff

Word count: 4500

This fic is part of my 600 followers celeration

When Charles asked you to fix up the room down the hall on the second floor you didn't think much of it. You were excited to meet the new occupant of the abandoned room and although cleaning wasn't your favorite thing to do, at least you knew you wouldn't be doing it alone. Jean, Scott and Peter were with you and you were optimistic that you could get the job done if you put in a little effort —especially if Peter dropped the jokes and used his powers to help you. 

That room had been unoccupied for so long that sometimes you forgot it even existed. It was a dump where things that no one used anymore were stored, so it was a total mess. You were so overwhelmed by the amount of things there were to do that you didn't think about the fact that you also used that room as your personal junk stash a couple of times. So you set to work without thinking about the embarrassing things you had hidden there from your former roommate, certain that you had retrieved them all the moment she left school.

That was until you heard Jean let out a gasp of pure surprise, emerging from the closet with a pair of black leather handcuffs in her hand. The world around you stopped for a moment as panic spread throughout you. The blood all over your body rushed to your face, the shame evident in your expression as you realized the horrible mistake you had made. You knew you should never have bought that stupid being. You didn't need it. You didn't even have a partner! You should never have listened to that stupid magazine article. It didn't make sense, to fuel the flames of passion in a relationship you first had to get one, something you felt would never happen. Not with your shy and awkward attitude at least. 

"Who do you think these belong to?" Jean's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You let out a sigh as you looked at their expression of confusion and curiosity, realizing there was no way they could know the handcuffs belonged to you. You just had to keep your cool so as not to arouse suspicion and they would eventually grow tired of the subject, wouldn't they?

"Well, I hate to be the one to say it but this is Charles' house..." Scott said and everyone winced —yourself included— at the implications of his words.

"Eww, Scott, gross!" Jean punched him in the arm to shut him up. "I don't want to think about the professor like that!"

"You asked!" The boy defended himself, stroking his arm where Jean's fist had impacted against his skin. Although he recognized that the mental image of Professor X's private life, someone he respected and loved like a father, was not a pretty one.

"Maybe these belong to Raven," she suggested as she inspected the handcuffs in her hands. You remained silent, returning to your chores as your friends talked. It was better for them to think they were Raven's than to find out they were yours. "I mean, she lived here too and she kinda looks like she'd be into this stuff."

"I don't know," Scott hesitated. Realistically they could belong to anyone, even people they didn't know. Many mutants had passed through the school for gifted youngsters and many others had sought refuge there. It wasn't exactly easy to deduce who owned such a scandalous object.

"Whose else could they be?" said Jean, though she was interrupted before she could continue her speculation. 

Peter, who had remained silent playing with junk he was finding while moving a couple of boxes, interrupted his friends' conversation when an idea formed in his mind. Using his abilities, he snatched the handcuffs from Jean's hands before she could do anything to stop him. "I know who can help solve this little mystery!" he stated with a smile, dangling the handcuffs on his fingers playfully.

"Who?" you asked him, fearing that he somehow knew the handcuffs were yours. Instead of answering you he disappeared from the room for a split second and when he returned he had on a dark leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses in his hand.

"This is a case for Detective Brad Steel, FBI," he said, speaking in a deeper tone of voice than usual as he put on his sunglasses. He looked at you with an exaggeratedly dramatic look in his eyes, acting like he was on a detective show and this was the most important case of his career.

No one could contain the laughter, not even you. You were amazed at Peter's ability to come up with stupid things that made you laugh. He had a great imagination and got bored easily, a combination that was the perfect recipe for disaster 90% of the time. Oh, but that remaining 10% where things didn't go terribly wrong was usually hilarious for everyone involved. Peter was a fun guy to have around and always knew just what to do or say to make you laugh. That was one of the things you liked most about him.

"Why doesn't Brad Steel stay to clean up like he's supposed to be doing?" you said looking at him with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed. You knew full well he was using that as an excuse so he wouldn't have to stay and tidy up. He was like a little kid who got bored easily, especially when it came to tasks like cleaning and organizing. His world moved too fast to make sense of such things. "We could really use your talents to help out with this mess, Peter."

"I'm sorry, but Brad Steel has more important things to do. His talents can't be wasted with such trivial chores when there's so many mysteries out there that need to be solved!" Peter explained in his exaggerated FBI detective voice. You opened your mouth to complain, ready to argue with him to make him stay, but he vanished from the room before any of the three of you could say anything about it.

"Let him go," Jean said, resuming her chores. "He probably would have slowed us down more than helped us anyway."

You thought you were safe. After Peter left, you all focused on cleaning and tidying up the room as quickly as you could so you could get out of there. The conversation did not return to the subject of the handcuffs, the object easily forgotten now that you no longer had it lying around. You really thought that for once the universe had sided with you, quickly releasing you from the embarrassing moment and allowing you to have a second chance. All you had to do now was wait for the buzz to die —something you didn't think would be very difficult as Peter got bored easily with everything—, and then you could retrieve the handcuffs and make them disappear forever.

However, your hopes that this disaster would die quickly were crushed when you saw Peter talking to Professor Xavier. He still had his sunglasses on, so you didn't have to be very close to them to guess what they were talking about.

"Who used to stay in that bedroom?" you heard Peter ask a very confused Charles. "Or perhaps it was always a storage room?"

"I... I don't know, I don't remember." The professor muttered, looking at the boy with a frown. "Why the sudden interest in the room? How is any of it relevant to cleaning and organizing?"

"It's not, he's just joking!" You intervened in the conversation before Peter said something stupid. "We were bored while we cleaned up and we started a game, but it's all done now so the new guy can move in!"

You didn't give Charles time to answer you, you just gave him a smile and pushed Peter away from him. "What are you doing?" you asked him in a whispered shout. You couldn't believe he had dared to go up to the professor to ask him questions about the room. You had to stop his stupid game before things blew up in your face.

"I'm working the case," he said as if it were obvious, shrugging his shoulders.

"He can't know about this!"

"I wasn't going to tell him! I was just asking around to see what he could remember." Peter defended himself, throwing his hands up in the air at your accusing look. 

"No, you were avoiding work just like you always do." You complained, crossing your arms over your chest. "Besides, do you really think he wouldn't figure it out? He's a mind reader!"

Peter rolled his eyes, annoyed at your persistence. He didn't understand why you seemed so concerned about the matter. It wasn't like you knew who owned the handcuffs, so why did you seem so concerned that Charles wouldn't find out. Unless... you were hiding something. 

It didn't make sense in Peter's mind that you were the owner of the handcuffs. You weren't the kind of person anyone pictured when thinking of someone who used those kinds of sex toys. You were too innocent and indifferent to the world of love and sex for that. In fact, Peter wasn't even sure you had any experience with it. But that didn't mean you were completely ignorant of the subject. Maybe you knew who the real owner was. Maybe it was a friend you were trying to cover for. Maybe he knew the owner himself and didn't know it. 

That idea piqued Peter's curiosity and unfortunately for you, that meant he wouldn't let go until he got to the bottom of it.

"Why do you care so much about people finding out about it?" 

His question threw you off as you didn't expect him to pick up on your discomfort so quickly. Your brain froze for a moment, your mouth hanging open as it struggled to come up with a good lie that would get you out from under the spotlight. However, when you saw the look in his eyes you knew it was too late.

"I-I don't care." You lied, shrugging your shoulders in a desperate attempt to look relaxed. "I just think it's dumb and it could be embarrassing for whoever owns these to have the whole school spreading rumors about it." Peter squinted at you, inspecting your expression for signs that would confirm his suspicions. 

"I think you're lying." He said after a few seconds of silence. "I think you know something about this whole thing and you don't want to tell me."

"I do not!" You exclaimed in a high-pitched tone that immediately gave you away.

"Are you sure about that? Because my detective instincts are telling me otherwise." He teased you, looking at you with an amused smile plastered on his face.

"Well, your detective instincts suck then cause I don't know anything." You were starting to get nervous, speaking at a rapid pace and in a high-pitched tone that was unusual for you. Peter knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but even if he didn't, it was pretty obvious.

"Why are you so nervous then?" he stepped closer to you, invading your personal space with his presence. His eyes never left yours, staring at you with a paralyzing intensity. It was hard to focus when he was so close to you. It was like he knew the effect he had on you and was using it to his advantage. Your poor brain that was already having trouble functioning properly lost all hope of recovering. You needed to get out of there, get away from him before you ended up saying something you would regret. 

"You're making me nervous with your stare!" You said without thinking about how he might interpret that phrase.

"I make you nervous?" Peter repeated, looking at you with an arched eyebrow. You felt the blood in your entire body travel to your face from embarrassment at his implication. He was right to assume that, but it wasn't what you had meant. 

"Not like that!" you were quick to correct. "I mean you make me nervous with youe accusatory looks."

"Why? Are you hiding something?"

"No! You know what? Forget it! Do whatever you want, I don't care." You did care, you cared a lot, but you knew that this conversation with Peter would get you nowhere. He seemed more interested in teasing you than anything else and you were dangerously close to saying something stupid, so you decided it would be best to walk away. You headed back to your room, climbing the stairs to the second floor as fast as you could. However, when you reached the last door in the corridor you discovered that Peter was waiting for you there, leaning against the wood. 

"You can't escape from me, you know that, right?" he said arrogantly, giving you a cheeky grin. 

"Ugh, I hate when you do that!" 

"No you don't."

No, you didn't. But you still rolled your eyes, faking annoyance. 

"Go away, I need to do stuff."

"What stuff?"

"It's none of your business. Let me pass."

"Not until you tell me what you know."

You let out a frustrated sigh at his persistence. It was clear that Peter wasn't going to drop the subject anytime soon and you weren't sure how much longer you could put up with his questions. He was going to learn the truth eventually, of that you were sure. His curiosity and persistence would not allow him to drop the subject. It was a matter of how and when he would find out what was at stake.

And then it occurred to you that maybe if you told him the truth, if you controlled the way he found out everything, it would be less embarrassing for you. You knew that if you told him and asked him to drop the subject he would because you were friends and Peter wasn't a complete jerk. He would playfully tease you from time to time, sure, but he wouldn't seek to really hurt you. 

"If I tell you, will you let it go?"

Peter's eyes lit up at your words, like those of a child getting his way. "I pinky promise!" he nodded, raising his hand and stretching out his pinky finger for you to shake. You shook your head, unable to believe what you were about to do, but shook his finger, sealing the promise. 

You pushed Peter into your room, closing the door behind you to make sure no one heard you. The last thing you wanted was for the rumor to spread around the school, that was a kind of humiliation you weren't prepared to face. He watched you intently as you paced around the room, waiting for you to speak. It was clear you were having trouble finding the right words —or the courage to utter them— which made Peter even more confused. Why was this subject affecting you so much?

"Spill it out already!" Peter exclaimed when he couldn't stand the silence any longer. His voice brought you back to reality, stopping you on your feet as your eyes locked on him. There was no easy or non embarrassing way to say what you had to say, and you knew that dragging it out would only make everything worse. Just like removing a band-aid, sometimes it was better to be quick and precise to get things over with as quickly as possible. So you took a deep breath and blurted out your excuses as fast as you could, barely breathing between words as you tried to explain your reasoning to a very confused Peter.

"You have to understand it was an impulse buy, I don't even know why I did it... in fact I was going to throw them away, but I forgot where I put them and I-"

"Wow, wow, wow, slow down a minute!" Peter interrupted you, surprise written all over his face. "Are you saying these are yours?" You felt the blood travel to your face once again, igniting your skin from the embarrassment you felt under Peter's curious gaze. You didn't trust your voice to answer him, so you just nodded your head slightly, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to face him anymore.

"How? I mean, no offense, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who would even know about these, let alone own a pair."

"Cause I'm not!" you said honestly, trying to defend what little was left of your dignity. "I haven't even had-" You stopped abruptly before finishing the sentence, realizing that confessing to the guy you liked that you were a virgin was as embarrassing as admitting that you had bought a pair of handcuffs for no apparent reason.

"You've never had sex?" He asked you after a few seconds of silence. Your gaze dropped to the floor, too embarrassed to look at him as you shook your head. If he didn't think you were pathetic before, you were sure he did now. "Then why did you buy these?"

You shrugged, unsure how to answer. Honestly you didn't even know why you did it, you just blindly followed the advice of a women's magazine —a mistake you weren't going to make again. "I don't know... I thought I might need them. There's this guy I like and I've been building up the courage to ask him out and I was scared he might think I'm lame or something if I don't have all this stuff."

Peter could tell that all this was a sensitive subject for you, so he tried to be as serious and understanding as possible. He approached you, taking a few steps until he could touch your face with his hand. He lifted your chin carefully, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. "You're not lame for not having experience in this stuff." He said in a soft voice. "And if anyone ever makes you feel that way then they're a dick and don't deserve your attention."

Hearing Peter say that put a smile on your face. His reassurance made you feel a little less pathetic, it wasn't enough to repair your bruised ego, but it did make you feel better to know that he didn't see you as a loser. You knew everyone else did, even if they didn't say it to your face. You were the weird girl who didn't fit in and had never been on a date. How could you when you acted like that? No guy would find you attractive! You weren't very feminine, always opting to hide in baggy clothes. You also didn't pay as much attention to your appearance as other girls your age seemed to do, and you weren't even interested in the world of dating and romance. It all seemed so complicated to you that just thinking about it overwhelmed you, so you were pretty sure you would die alone.

"So, who is it?" Peter's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. 

"Huh?"

"Who's the guy that you like, the one that you bought these for?" Peter twirled the handcuffs in his fingers, fiddling with them as he gave you an amused smile. He was back to his usual goofy self, trying to lighten the mood with his jokes.

"It doesn't matter!" you were quick to say, trying hard to control your imagination and not let it picture Peter doing something more than teasing you with the handcuffs in his hand. 

"That makes me think that it does matter," he remarked with amusement. "C'mon, who is it? I wanna know, please tell me." Peter spoke, stretching every syllable to the point that it was annoying —just like a child who wants to convince an adult to listen to them. He always did that and you usually found it amusing and adorable, but this time it was different because you just couldn't give in to his demands.

"That wasn't part of our deal."

"Yeah, cause I didn't know there was a special someone. Tell me who it is! I deserve to know."

"No you don't!"

"You're right, but I want to know so tell me, pleaseee."

"No!"

"Is it someone I know?" You tried to control your expressions, to remain serious so as not to expose your feelings, but it was pointless. Somehow he knew, you saw it in his eyes and in the smirk he was giving you.

"No. Actually, you don't know him." You lied, struggling to control your micro-expressions. You spoke casually, faking disinterest to see if it would get him off your back. But you sounded too casual, too disinterested, and Peter knew you were lying. 

"I do know him!" he gasped at the realization. "Who is it? Is it Scott? You know he's in love with Jean, right?"

"It's not Scott!"

"Then who? Kurt?" Peter made a funny face, finding the image that had formed in his head of you and Kurt together weird. You were friends, but he didn't picture you as anything more. You weren't compatible. Even though you were both innocent, your personality was too intense for him. That would never work. 

"No, ew, he's my friend!" It was your turn to cringe this time. "He's nice, but I don't like him like that. He's not my type."

"And who is your type?" 

You fell silent, admiring Peter's warm eyes. 

'You are my type,' you thought, feeling your heart race under his intense gaze. He was the one guy you wanted to see you in a special way, the one you sighed for when he passed you by. He owned your heart, but you couldn't tell him. Especially not now after he found out one of your most embarrassing secrets. 

"It's none of your business." You said simply after a few seconds of silence, turning your back to him to escape the vigilance of his beautiful eyes. 

But Peter could tell something was wrong, his instincts giving him an answer to the questions you refused to answer. It was the sparkle in your eyes and the strange tension in the air that gave him the hint. You looked at him as if you wanted to tell him something, as if you were biting your tongue to keep your heart from leading you to make a mistake. He couldn't think of a single reason why you'd try so hard to keep your mouth shut, unless....

"Is it me?" Peter asked you, appearing in front of you in a flash. His sudden movements would have surprised you if it weren't for the fact that you were used to being around him already. Being friends with Peter came with his weird behaviors and silly jokes. No, what surprised you were his words. How had he noticed? Were you so obvious?

You didn't know how to answer so you didn't say anything, you just looked at him, letting your eyes speak for you. You couldn't have formed a coherent sentence even if you wanted to, you were too mortified to do so. Your brain was spending all its resources preparing you for the worst, screaming at you not to cry the moment Peter rejected you. You knew he would try to be nice about it —there wasn't a single ounce of malice in that boy's heart—, but it would still hurt, and the last thing you needed at that moment was to humiliate yourself any further.

However, the rejection never came. Not even a look of awkwardness on his part. He only moved closer to you, invading your personal space as he reached out to caress your cheek. 

"I need to hear you say it." He spoke, his voice almost a deep whisper. It took you a few seconds to process his words, brow furrowing in confusion at the gentleness of his touch. You were expecting to be rejected, even mocked for the stupid secret Peter had just discovered about you. But instead he looked at you with a special shine in his eyes, admiring you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him at that moment. That threw you off, your brain too stunned to stop your lips before uttering the most sincere response you could at that moment.

"it has always been you."

There wasn't much more you could say because Peter's lips silenced you as they crashed against yours in the most anticipated kiss of your life. You didn't have much experience in the area, but you knew that was the best kiss you'd ever had so far. Butterflies flew in your stomach and colorful fireworks exploded behind your eyes as you let him guide you, taking control of the kiss. His lips tasted sweet, like candy, something that didn't help you want to pull away from him. But eventually your lungs betrayed you, forcing you to break the kiss so you could breathe.

"I'm flattered you bought these thinking of me," Peter spoke, twirling the handcuffs in his fingers. He had a mischievous smile plastered on his lips, but there wasn't a trace of malice in his eyes. He wasn't trying to mock you, he was just trying to make you feel good about yourself. "But we don't need to use them. We can take things slow, go at your pace."

You appreciated his thoughtfulness. It was a sensitive subject and Peter wasn't precisely known for being the most serious person. But he was really going out of his way to make you feel comfortable, from the gentleness in his eyes to the calmness in his voice. He wanted to be counted as much as you wanted to be with him, and he was going to do everything he could to make his work.

"I'd like that." you smiled at him and he gave you a quick kiss on the lips as a way of sealing your commitment to each other.

"But I'm keeping these! You never know when they might come in handy." Peter put the handcuffs in his pocket, giving you a suggestive wink that did nothing but earn him a slap on the shoulder from you.

"Gross!" you grumbled, though you ended up laughing at the exaggerated scowl Peter gave you.

"Excuse me? I wasn't the one that brought them. You're the gross one for putting weird ideas in my head. I was actually as pure as a dove before you presented me with such a filthy object!"

"I'm already regretting this." you said, rolling your eyes. But Peter didn't care, he knew you weren't serious. He knew you well enough to know when you were joking and when you were really upset with him. He could always tell in your eyes, something changed in them when he crossed a line. He didn't know how to describe it, but it was obvious when it happened, so he always knew when to stop joking. 

And at that moment, despite your crossed arms and your look of annoyance, he could see nothing but love in your eyes.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x fem reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x female reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x fem reader #ro's 600 followers celebration

[make-me-imagine]

Disheveled Confession

Prompt: Surprising each other with chocolates/flowers.

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Gn!Reader *Reader is referenced to have Aerokinetic abilities

Requested By: @skylions-den

Words: ~700

-

With everyone around the school whispering about who they were going to ask to be their Valentines, or asking each other out for the Valentines themed dance, you felt a constant hum of butterflies in your stomach.

You had already been asked out a few times by various people, each of whom you had to let down easy. There was only one person you were interested in, but you weren't positive they felt the same.

Even with doubt on your mind and anxiety in your chest, you had every intention of giving him the chocolates you had sought out specifically for him.

You had no idea if he would care, or if he would understand the intention behind them, but that was not going to stop you.

The chocolates were shoved in your bag, taking up all the room left, as you marched through the mansion, looking for the silver haired mutant. The longer it took to find him, the harder it was for you to stay confident.

Looking into one final room, and still not seeing him, you let out a defeated sigh. Maybe he was in town? Or maybe he was with someone. That thought sent a sharp ache through your chest. But you pushed the thought away and made your way up to the roof. One of your favorite places to sit in silence.

Sitting on the edge of the roof, you looked out over the school campus as a light breeze blew through your hair. Lifting a finger you formed a small whirl of air, scooping up all the leaves on the roof, before letting them fall into a pile in the corner.

Hearing a sharp whistle, barely audible, followed by a whisp of air, Peter was suddenly standing beside you on the roof. You felt your heart leap lightly as you looked over at him.

Lifting his goggles as he stared down at you, he let out a soft breath "I've been looking for you, should have known you'd be up here."

You blinked "You've been looking for me?"

He nodded before he sat down in front of you, "I wanted to give you something."

Watching as he reached into his jacket, you felt your heart flutter.

Pulling out a small bundle of disheveled tulips, Peter looked at them for a second with a frown.

"Oh. Oops. Sorry, I put them in my jacket to keep them safe from the wind." He slowly handed them to you.

Taking them you smiled, repressing a giggle as your cheeks and neck warmed up. They may have been slightly beaten and bent, but they were still beautiful. Meeting his eyes, you could tell he had a nervous air about him.

"You got me flowers?"

He smiled softly and nodded "I know you've been asked by like several people to be their Valentines, and to go to the dance with them, but I thought- well, I hoped, maybe, I had a chance."

"Yes."

His eyes met yours with surprise as you smiled, caught off guard by your own eagerness.

"I was hoping you might ask.

He adjusted nervously "You were?"

You nodded "Yes. Oh!" Remembering the chocolates, you reached down into your bag, you pulled on the box of chocolates, having to yank them out with force.

You chuckled as you handed the bent box to him "I got you something too."

He smiled as he took the chocolates, recognizing them as his favorites.

Looking over at the flowers, seeing them in a similar state to the box, he grinned. "Thank you."

You smiled bashfully, feeling another nervous flutter as he inched forward to get a bit closer to you. "You're really gonna go to the dance with me?"

You nodded "I'd love to."

"And, uh" he cleared his throat lightly "You'll be my Valentine?"

You nodded again repressing a grin. He smiled brightly "And then after that?"

Shrugging lightly you smiled "After that?"

"You'll uh, still be with me?"

Unable to repress your grin any longer, you let out a soft giggle "Yes, I'll still be with you Peter. If that's what you want."

He nodded "It is, definitely is."

"Good, me too."

xx End xx

I kind of hate how this came out, but I hope you liked it lol

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Marvel/Xmen/Peter Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @gay-and-ready-to-cry, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @soultrysworld, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @malindacath, @maellem, @starship-argo,

#Peter Maximoff #Xmen #Xmen first class #x-men #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver (xmen) #peter maximoff/reader #peter maximoff fluff #xmen imagine #x-men imagine #xmen fluff #marvel imagine #X-men #Peter maximoff imagine #valentines drabble #peter maximoff oneshot #peter maximoff one shot #peter maximoff drabble #xmen drabble #xmen first class

[in-love-with-srk]

You were lying on your bed trying to sleep, when you heard a certain someone quicksilver his way into your dorm. So of course you did the sane thing and pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't bother you.

You expected a loud announcement of his arrival but not him quietly rushing over to you and hugging you from behind. "I missed you, my sick sweet little angel". "But you saw me yesterday" You say turning towards him and he jumped not expecting that you had heard his little confession. But he quickly made a recovery "So? You think I can go a day without seeing you're pretty face.". You scoffed "Pretty, in this state?" His expression softened "Of course you're pret-"

"PETER GET BACK TO CLASS" Logan yelled. "Oh shit" Then Logan came to drag his ass back to chemistry. You gave him a tiny wave before smiling secretly. "I WILL BE BACK MY DEAR". He left and you turned your face into the pillow. Then he noticed that you had waved at him and ran back into your dorm. He quickly moved your face to make your look towards him but slow enough to not give you whiplash. And then he pecked your cheek before bashfully waving at you, saying bye and running away once again.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #peter maximof x reader #quicksilver x reader #evan peters #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff drabble #Xavier! Reader #Xmen is not much on tumblr #xmen #xmen imagines #xmen apocalypse #evan peters x reader #167 notes

[quickandsilvers]

Consider: something like this w/Peter.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGed5Ysh5/

Like, Peter gets hurt on a mission and he comes back with just a couple bruises and he's like, "it's just a bruise, I was shot in my costume".

[Cue the touch bit here]

Idk, I'm just,,,,, thinking,,,,, 😳😳😳

A/N- I made this wayyy longer than it had to be but.. sue me? I decided to do Reader/Peter’s introduction too because why the hell not! Also, whats a fic of mine without smut, huh?

Medical Malpractice and Awkward Interactions🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT 🔥

Summary: Many times Peter Maximoff embarrasses himself in front of you, and one time you patch him up… and screw him against a shower wall. It’s standard first-aid procedure, right?

Warnings: slow burn (kinda), pining, blood, wounds, LOTS of sexual innuendoes, Nurse/Patient role-play, handjob, p in v, oral (Peter receiving), dirty talk, grinding, public humiliation, creampie, shower sex

Word Count: 9905

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 @pretzel-bunnie (Please ask if you want to be added/removed!)

—————————————————————————

For most of his thirty plus years of his life, Peter Maximoff considered himself as a relatively easy person to get along with. He had friends who were somewhat happy to have him as company, despite his overly-outgoing nature and lack of social cues.

Magda had raised him to the best of her ability, or at least until the damned speedster mutation kicked in at twelve. After school nights of pretend tea-parties with Wanda or playing kick-the-can with the neighborhood children turned into petty-theft and a challenge of sending poor mama Maximoff on the brink of insanity and financial instability.

So yeah, said mutation sorta sent Peter into a boisterous, thieving tailspin. But hey, at least he wasn’t a complete jackass.

He never smoked, never drank, and since joining the Xmen, Peter only stole things from major companies that wouldn’t notice it was missing in the first place; and occasionally the few Rainbow or Jimi Hendrix vinyls that caught his attention passing by. ‘No one’s perfect, prof!’ Peter would tell Xavier as he returned to the mansion, only to be greeted by an unimpressed shake of the head.

And yes, he did pay back the money his mother paid for the local police to keep the mass amount of snack cakes in his basement under wraps. Once again, Peter wasn’t a complete jackass.

But then, he met you. You were a fellow professor at Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Children, and were renowned across campus - if you weren't teaching music theory, you could either be found giving study sessions for students falling behind or making your famed lasagna bake whenever the Xmen came home from a mission - and you were loved for it.

And you were pretty. Like, shit! Hella pretty. Whether it was your skill at engaging everyone in your lectures or your jaw-droppingly gorgeous face, you held the unofficial record for the most loved on campus. Peter, as the school’s physical education teacher, was second place, and for once he didn't mind getting the silver medal.

He'd heard about you in the staff room one morning. All good things. A real glowing report card. Everyone loved you and for good reason, apparently. But you hadn’t met yet.

That was until Peter realized your class was in the morning and an hour before his PE lesson began, so he decided to snoop around to check out if you were as good as everyone said you were.

Arriving at the back of the classroom, Peter pushed his goggles up to his head, tufts of silvery soft hair coming with it.

And there you were in all your glory, sitting back on your desk and waving to everyone as they walked in, the occasional student getting 'Love your new look, Cynthia!', 'Ready for class, Michael?' or a giant grin and the sporadic finger guns.

Okay, so you were kind too. Kind and pretty. Kind and pretty and obviously smart enough to get a doctorate. Though, how hard was it to get a degree in music; what did you even have to know? Def Leppard formed back in ‘77, Neil Peart is the best drummer of all time, blah blah blah. Pssht, enter Peter into an exam and he’d have a degree in lickedey split!

The fact you had devoted your life to getting a music doctorate compelled Peter to wonder what your taste in said music was. Admittedly, he wasn’t so keen on the idea of you lecturing if Charles had formulated the curriculum himself. What did that old man even listen to? Peter found it hard to imagine his higher up rockin’ it out to Journey.. and God forbid- Black Sabbath?!

Definitely not. Xavier would be limited to the likes of Beethoven. Peter's skin crawled at the thought. Expand your horizons, you powdered-wig wearin’ maniacs!

No matter. If you did turn out to be some kind of sonata orchestral devotee, you wouldn’t be able to resist Peter’s charisma and persuasive techniques. Said persuasion would be helluva lot of nagging in your ear until you subsequently cave; and you would, because everyone does. And eventually you would join the light side of the force, and Peter would teach you the music ‘way of the jedi.’

"Hi! Hello everybody!" You greeted cheerfully and stood up, waving your arms around for emphasis. “It’s great to see you all back looking nice and refreshed!”

Peter normally would have snorted in irony. In most cases, an hour-long lecture at six am in the morning wouldn’t have people ready to learn and raring for the day ahead. In Xavier’s literature lectures, one could easily mistake the students to be flesh-eating, grumbling zombies who hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in a millennium.

However, as he looked around the room from his seat in the very back, the students filing in had almost cheshire grins on their faces, smiling eagerly at your buzzing figure and sitting up straight in their seats.

Peter’s eyes flitted back to you. The bell bottom jeans you were wearing were dark and fit you perfectly, the flare swishing around as you slowly paced around the room. For the first couple of minutes, he didn't hear a thing you were saying because the swaying was far too distracting.

His eyes trailed upwards. A faux shearling collared leather jacket hung off your frame, belt loose at the hem and clashing against your hip when you took a step. You looked like something straight out of the 60s: and Peter was totally diggin’ it.

The zip was undone, allowing a slither of your t-shirt underneath to show the letters “ardbi” peaking out in a red font. His heart leapt. The Yardbirds, nice, and fitting. Right this second Peter’s walkman hummed the tune of ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton through his headphones. Quiet enough so he could hear your voice, but loud enough so his head could bop along to the instrumental. Shuffling in his seat, Peter adjusted his RUSH t-shirt, as if wanting him to catch your attention so you could strike up a conversation about it.

What would he say if you did? He needed to impress you, stat; before Scott could find you and chat you up with his extensive motorcycle knowledge that seemed to be all the rage nowadays. Pfft. RUSH was cooler anyways.

All in all, you didn't look like the stereotypical lecturer. Your outfit was far from professional attire, but it didn’t matter; the kids loved you.

Peter was addicted to all of you; from the browline glasses on your head to the Mary Janes on your feet. It was comforting.

"I know you’ve all been working so hard this past semester," you began, leaning against the podium casually, your arms folded as you eyed the students. "And the lovely gentleman that is Professor Xavier would never allow this, but I've decided we can allow ourselves a breath of fresh air and watch a film today."

Cheers and excited whispers rang out in the room as the students smiled impossibly harder, rushing to shove their textbooks into their bags so the film could start.

“Now hold on!” Your laugh graced Peter’s ears, holding your hands up to settle the class. “We haven’t yet discussed the film options! How do we feel about ‘Bobby deerfield’?”

Groans and scoffs resonated through the classroom, and a girl with pigtails a few rows in front of Peter spoke out. “You’re not kiddin’ anybody miss! Everybody knows that film is wack!”

You laughed and stood off the podium, moving towards the open window that was letting in a cold draft. “You know me too well, Jubilee. No one likes that film.” You bent over an empty desk to reach over, closing the window and turning the lock to the right “How about The Empire Strikes Back?”

In a moment of total stillness in the classroom, Peter let out a choked-off groan. Whether it was the sight of you bent over a desk or the mention of that god-tier film, he wasn’t all too sure.

Silence.

Peter knew he had royally embarrassed himself yet again when howls and giggles erupted in the classroom, some students convulsing in laughter and others wolf-whistling as you paused, turning to look back at him.

Jubilee turned around in her seat to stare at her PE teacher, ponytails swinging wildly as she covered her mouth with her hand and guffawed. Peter’s cheeks burned.

"Excited for the film are we, Mr Maximoff?" You quizzed, bemused.

Oh, you noticed too. Great. But you knew his name. Cool, less sarcastically speaking. You were both staff members of the same school so it wasn't that outlandish, but Peter’s stomach still flipped nonetheless.

"Yeh.. aha.. Erm- yunno Luke became a Jedi master in this film, right?" Peter blurted out instinctively, his thoughts in overload under your stare. He kissed his teeth and nodded his head in affirmation. “Pretty.. Pretty cool stuff.”

Congratulations, you thirty-somethin’ year old virgin. You have well and truly out-nerded yourself. This chick will certainly be beggin’ for you to burrow yourself between her thighs now.

Peter swallowed, waiting for someone to say something. Literally anything. All he was met with was muffled giggles and snorts echoing around him. He teaches people in this lecture, dim-wit! How were they gonna respect him and do laps in his classes now, O’ Jedi Master connoisseur?

You grinned sweetly, amused, silently waving your hand for your students to quieten down "Thank you for sharing that, Mr Maximoff, truly. Although I have seen this film before." You nodded in acknowledgement to his RUSH shirt and then returned your focus to the class before Peter could word vomit anything else.

You began to ramble on again. It made sense. Why would you pay attention to him when you had a job to do?

What could he do? Embarrass himself further by standing on his desk and demanding that you have a conversation that ends with you saying, 'Wow, Peter, you're so smart and fast and criminally handsome. Would you like to go to a record store so you can continue to impress me with the sheer amount of knowledge you have stored inside that adorable silver-haired noggin’ of yours?'

A mumble still traveled across the class, primarily because one of their teachers is a raging airhead, but you shushed them quickly by clapping your hands together. It was a casual movement, but one that got everyone's undivided attention again.

"Can anyone guess what year it came out?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the blur of a hand go up but you weren’t going to call on them, and so, Peter was left with his palm awkwardly facing towards the stage. You reiterated your question, "Can any of my students take a guess? Mr Maximoff, I'd appreciate it if you could give my class at least 2 minutes so they can discuss the answer."

Peter’s hand lowered slowly and he narrowed his eyes at the person snickering next to him.

“Don’t make me give yer extra laps next lesson, Christopher, the weather forecast ain’t lookin’ so good fer this Friday.”

Christopher abruptly stopped and faced back to you.

Once again, silence met your question until it was broken by a timid voice. A boy in the front row with curly brunette hair was looking at you unsure. You smiled encouragingly and nodded for him to speak up louder.

“1980?"

"Like always, Bobby, you are correct!" You exclaimed happily. Bobby blushed, embarrassed by the attention and compliment but smiling nonetheless as you moved on to another question. "The film came out in 1980. Does anyone know who it starred? Don’t be afraid to speak up!”

The film started soon after and for the entire time, Peter was completely transfixed by you. You leaned against the door and peered up at the projector screen, a smile on your face as you snuck a few handfuls of popcorn out of Bobby’s grasp as he watched the film intently. He now understood the enthusiastic compliments from the staff room, and why you were so loved by everyone. You were infectious.

He couldn't help himself, Peter found his eyes wandering over every part of your body, studying every inch of you before he'd had the chance to properly comprehend that he was being a creep. Appreciating beauty was one thing, leering at women he hadn't met before was another. Keep it in your pants, Maximoff.

As the students piled out of the lecture hall, all chatting loudly as they walked out, Peter waited. A group of girls surrounded you and asked you a bunch of questions, and you answered them all like you were their cool older sister rather than someone who was paid to teach them things. Then they left too, and you were alone.

"Did you enjoy the class, Mr Maximoff?" you asked kindly, a smile tugging at your lips as you turned around slightly. You sat on top of the nearest desk and folded your legs under yourself, resting your elbow on your knee and your head on your fist.

Blinking, Peter froze before nodding vigorously. So vigorous, in fact, that his goggles slid from his head down to the apex of his nose. He huffed in irritation and the exhaled breath fogged up his lenses completely. Peter bets he looks so irresistible right now.

Say something- think of something fast, moron! Isn’t that your whole gimmick? Impress her with your natural God-given charm!

Who are we kidding, this is Peter Maximoff. Master of the Jedi’s and embarrassing silences.

He wiped his goggles with the end of his shirt "I would think a music teacher would be lecturin’ about music, not films.. But yes, yer were- the film was.. very entertainin’."

Shit. Your lip twitched. Did he do somethin’ wrong? Of course he did- he just insulted a Professor’s lecturin’ to their face, ewok!

"You're a professor of...?"

"Err, I teach PE.. yunno.. I just make the kiddos run laps ‘n kick a ball around, basically." No shit, doofus! Maybe stop mansplainin’ what workin’ out is and apologize? “Fuck i’m so sorr-”

You cut him off with a simple wave of your hand, that gorgeous smile of yours decorating your face once again. “It’s alright, honest!” You say, observing his exasperated look as his mouth parts, ready to apologize “Jean told me that your mouth moves faster than your brain sometimes, I don’t take any offense to what you said.”

Peter sighs, relieved yet processing your words. “So, uh..” he hesitated, an awkward yet boastful smirk building then “Yer talk about me? All good things, I hope.”

You felt a heat rising to your face immediately and you looked around the room to avoid his intense stare, your eyes falling to another window you had yet to close. The cogs in your head turn and you whip around to face Peter, fanning yourself with your hand and beginning to shrug off your jacket. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” You faux panted, moving away from him to open the window like you needed a cold breeze.

Peter watched as you bent over, much closer now and able to see you from straight behind. His eyes grazed your body with a suggestive smirk.

“Just you, babe.”

Okay, babe?! Not helping your flushed state, at all!

You muffle your sputter by coughing, turning around once again and sitting on the desk. You watch as Peter walks up to you, standing close enough that his thighs force your legs a little wider around him.

The silence is unbearable, so you break it. “I mean, of course I've mentioned you once or twice, dude!” You chuckle nervously, “It’s hard to miss someone that looks like you speedin’ around the mansion.”

You register the confused shift in his gaze and now it’s your turn to run back on what you said, jumping in realization and your knee knocking into his trouser-clad outer thigh. “Not that you look weird in any way! I just meant the whole ‘silver’ aesthetic is totally bitchin’! And obviously I’ve heard about that whole Apocalypse fiasco in ‘84. It was really brave, what you did, and I can’t help but thank you for savin’ the whole world.. and whatever..”

You trail off as you babble yourself into a frenzy, Peter’s delighted grin humiliating you further as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Thanks, babe.” You let out a shuddery breath. Again?! Where was this confidence when he was making a fool out of himself not just a minute ago?

Peter gave in at your pleading gaze and stepped back, a sheepish smile on his face as he looked down to the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. He swayed back and forth on his heels. “I better go anyway. Places to be, worlds to save.. Y’know how it is, babe.” The uneasiness on his features left as soon as it came, now replaced with a cocky smirk and a sly wink.

“Well, if you come back in one piece, maybe we could, I dunno, go out for a movie or somethin’?” You ask apprehensively “since you seem to like Star Wars so much.”

“Y-yeah!” Peter said almost too quickly, clearing his throat before gathering his thoughts and masking the elated grin battling to appear. “I mean, only if yer gonna be makin’ that lasagna, right?” He quipped, stomach rumbling at the thought.

You nodded in answer, grinning. “Just come stop by whenever you’re free and we’ll figure out a date, yeah?” Your eyes widened. “I mean date as in time!”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows again, speeding to the door and saluting you before making his way to the training room, fistbumping the air. Fuckin’ score!

For the remainder of the day, Peter couldn’t keep his mind off of you and the promised movie date you were set to have after his mission, uncontrollably vibrating in excitement whilst boarding the X-jet the day after.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe, yeah?” You ask him, standing on the runway as you smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform, your palm flat on his chest.

A broad grin spread across Peter’s face as he placed his own hand above yours, running his thumb smoothly over your skin.

“Don’t worry about little ol’ me, ‘kay? A promise is a promise, sweet-cheeks.”

——————————————————————————

Peter’s not a jackass. He would never intentionally go back on his word.

But that was a pretty damn hard promise to fulfill.

As soon as the jet landed four hours too late, Peter crashed into the living room couch, ignoring any questions of passers by for medical assistance. He practically melted into the linen cushions, exhaling deeply.

The kid previously sitting on the couch scowled as Peter stretched himself across the furniture, waving the younger student off with his hand. “I’m an Xman, I have the authority here.” The cushions muffled Peter’s grumble.

All in all, he wasn’t that hurt. In reality, the mission was fairly easy-going. Peter was barrelling through an evacuated suburban village, rescuing any stragglers that had found themselves lost or stuck under rubble, whilst the other Xmen dealt with arresting the rogue mutant. Blurs of grays and browns passed him at rapid speed as he did one last sweep of the area, confident in the fact that all people had been safely vacated.

Leaning onto a particularly large mound of debris, Peter swung his leg in boredom, waiting on Charles to give him the go-ahead to start the X-jet back to the mansion. The wind picked up, sending his tufts of hair back and away from his forehead.

Abruptly, a flurry of white flew into the air, startling Peter as he whipped around, ready to attack.

The sight wasn’t as menacing as he thought, though. Small seeds dispersed across the terrain, each carrying a bundle of fluffy white bristles in its wake. He looked down to the sparse grass and was met with a patch of green stems, like a blossom without its petals. Peters brows furrow. What a funny lookin’ flower.

Crouching down, Peter plucks the base of a stem with all its remaining puffballs, cupping his hand in the direction of the wind so it wouldn’t fly away. He grinned, standing up again and inspecting it. It looked peculiar, and rather outlandish. Just his style.

He was halfway through tucking the flower carefully into his back pocket before something slammed into him, sending Peter tumbling into a jagged pile of rubble and fragments of serrated wood.

Motherfucker! He groaned, feeling a searing pain shoot through his stomach. A pile of dust shot up into the air almost comically, leaving a tangy taste on his tongue. Bleh. With feeble limbs, Peter lifted himself onto his elbows, looking down from his cracked goggles to shakily unzip his uniform halfway, revealing a hefty patch of crimson fluid staining his white undershirt. Scraps of wreckage tore holes through the fabric, revealing shallowish wounds littering his chest and stomach. Fuck!

Peter blinked slowly, turning his gaze to try and detect who or what had struck him. Just to the right of his aching body, a sizable slab of concrete stuck out of the ground, that had presumably collapsed from a nearby building.

How fuckin’ embarrasin’! Peter was probably gonna scar from this incident, and he would have to tell people the ‘heroic’ tale of how it went down? That he was assaulted by a chunk of rock? The students barely respected him from the whole classroom debacle with you the day prior; how were they ever gonna treat him with high regard now?

That’s right. You. How were you gonna react when he tells you? ‘Oh, How am i doin’, sweetcheeks? Thank yer for askin’, i got a real wild story fer these battle scars. What was it, ya ask? Hand-to-hand combat with buildin’ material. Sexy, right?’

Yeah, no. He had already embarrassed himself enough around you.

Once he had been strapped back into his seat, with the help of Hank, Peter now had to endure two hours of throbbing pain, and Scott giggling next to him.

Peter slumped into his seat, whining into his dust-cracked hands. “What the fuck am I gunna tell her, man? I can’t keep on embarrassin’ myself like this!”

“Don’t worry too much, dude, you’ll forget about this in no time.” Scott assured, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder, before screwing his face up and wiping the dust frantically on his sleeve. Peter hummed, albeit confused. When was Scott ever the one to give Peter actual reassurance?

“All in all, it’s just another brick in the wall, man.” Ah, there it was. Peter slowly turned to face Scott, deadpanning and watching the boy’s shoulders shake from silent laughter.

Scott shrieked as Peter shook his head like a wet dog, showering his best friend in a flurry of dust.

Once the flight had come to a halt, Peter limped through the mansion's corridors, hobbling to the living room couch as he was in too much pain to climb the few flights of stairs to his room.

Peter grumbled into the couch, eyes hooded as he melted into the material, ready to fall asleep.

And then you came barreling into the room. Peter sat up as you rushed into the room, nudging him into the back of the couch and placing your knees either side of his quivering hips, clutching his face. Peter really wished he had showered now.

“Take off your shirt.” Come again? Were Peter’s wounds making him hallucinate some filthy apparatition?

He blinked. “Eh?”

“When did you get back? No one told me you got back and I've been worried like crazy. You were four hours late, Peter!” You stressed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “Kurt told me you were injured! Did the mutant hurt you? He said you went flyin’ into rubble and practically got impaled!”

You were speaking in such quick succession that it had impressed Peter by your pace. He merely blinked once more, too caught up with your smooth hands against his cheeks and your frantic words. You were worried about him?

“I’m fine, babe.”

You glance down to his stomach, however you couldn’t see much of anything due to the dark hue of his uniform. “I can’t believe you were impal-”

“Not that I don't appreciate yer concern fer me babe, but 'm fine.” You glared at him “Honest! It’s just a few scrapes. Nothin’ i can’t handle.” he grinned, attempting to ease you up a little.

Despite Peter’s best efforts, you still seem just as on edge as before. Taking your hands off his cheeks, he whined at the loss of warmth, chasing your touch. Instead, you reach down to grasp hold of the zipper at the top of his ensemble, zipping it down to just above his hips. His mouth makes a small ‘o’ before contorting into a lazy smirk, glancing up at you.

“Easy there, tiger.”

A glimpse of his stained undershirt tells you all you need to know. You meet his gaze anxiously as Peter gives you a guilty grin, shrugging his shoulders at being called out. “Okay, maybe it’s slightly worse than i let on but-”

“Take your shirt off.” You urge imperatively, and he flushes.

“I dunno babe, I'm like, supeerrr sore. I don't think I can do it by myself, yer gonna have to help me.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. It was blatantly obvious Peter was flirting, any common idiot could tell. But he looked pretty beaten up, and you were mostly sure that moving him around too much would not feel too great for the speedster, so you obliged.

You lift his shirt up in gradual intervals, keeping your focus on the garment as he grins straight at you, clearly wanting to catch you peeking a glance at his body.

“Normally I'd be buyin’ yer dinner before showin’ off the goods… but-” Peter cuts off as you peel the shirt away from one particularly deep wound, the skin sticking to the material. You whisper apologies, lifting the shirt off his head and discarding it to the side. You glanced back down.

Peter noticed your blatant staring and looked up at you, tilting his head to the side. "So are you goin’ ter look me up and down like that ‘er are yer gunna patch me up?"

“Shush, ‘m not looking at you like anythin’!”

“Mhm, sure yer weren’t sugar.” He beamed. You redden, his thoughts transmitting like a beacon through his facial expression.

“Dont make this sexual..” You mutter, avoiding his gaze as you look around for the medkit you brought with you. Peter follows your movements with his gaze, head leaning back to rest of the edge of the couch whilst you shuffled about the room.

“Now what fun would that be, hm? Can’t I enjoy some attention from a beautiful woman like you?”

With the supplies you return to your earlier position, standing over his shirtless body and desperately trying to keep your thoughts at bay.

Finally taking a closer glance, you see his wounds, shallow, but littering his stomach and chest. There was a fairly large but not too serious cut on the right side of his abs and you lightly gasp, your fingertips reaching for it. “Can I touch you?”

Peter groaned “Ooh, yer can touch me anywhere yer want sugar.”

Choosing to ignore him, you open the first aid box with a satisfying click, taking out a roll of bandages, cotton pads and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, placing it down on the couch next to you. As you do so Peter takes a deep breath, letting him savor the scent of your perfume before the alcohol’s smell eclipsed it.

“So are ya my nurse now?” Peter observes “Kinky. Didn't know yer were into roleplay, but i'm not gonna lie, im kinda diggin’ it babe.”

You choke, smacking his arm. Too far, maximoff.

Peter winces, “Hey! Do ya hit all yer patients? This is medical malpractice right here! I was just sayin- this is like the start to every porno ive ever see-” he hisses as you press down the alcohol soaked cotton pad on his wound.

“Sorry, this may sting a little.” you say half apologetically.

“Well it don't mean anythin’ if yer warn me after, babe!” He whimpers, reaching to grab your hips for support from your position above him. You suppress the urge to rut into his lap, continuing your cleaning as you feel an onslaught of slick ooze from your core. You tried to keep in the sigh, but it fell so easily from your mouth at his touch.

“Ouch. Ow. Ow, ow oW OW!! Babe?! Does the word ow mean anythin’ to yer? Ye- agh-OW!” Peter shrieks, and you wince at the voice crack “Jesus christ! Who taught yer how to tend to people’s injuries? A construction worker with a jackhammer? OW!”

Despite his clear pain you stifle a laugh, swiping more gently this time. “It’s all part of the process, Peter. I’m trying to help you here.”

“Oh really? Are yer tryna help me or finish the fuckin’ job, babe?!”

A moment of tranquility passes, and just before you think Peter will stay quiet and let you get on with your work his voice drops, a sultry tone now teasing your ears. “I've got ter say babe.. when I pictured ya with yer hands roamin’ my chest, the wound was conspicuously absent.” You failed to keep in your reaction this time, a shuddery whimper leaving your mouth as you tense. Peter bites his lip, grin impossibly wide and his hands snaking around your hips.

You feel him pull you in closer and you oblige, facing him as you sit down onto his lower thighs as carefully as you can, not wanting to cause him any further strain. He grins.

“Okay, one more cut to clean and I'm done, yes? Then you can be bandaged up.” Clearing your throat, you await his response.

Peter inhales, screwing his eyes shut in preparation “M’kay, ‘m ready. Jus- FUCK.” You press the cotton ball onto his wound, watching as his muscles tense up and he grips onto your hips for support. Chewing on his lip in anguish, his head throws back once more. You refrain from looking at his adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.

His tight grip on your hips loosen after a minute and you hum, proceeding to unravel the bandages and wrap them around his torso.

Peter looks at you seriously for a moment, breaking the silence in a much more apologetic way this time. “ ‘M Sorry about blowin’ the whole movie thing, I know yer wanted to go out after i got back.. I guess this will have to be our version of a first date, huh?” He chuckles half heartedly, but his eyes oozed regret and mourning for your date to the theatre.

You move a slither of hair out of his eyes, smiling. “I don't mind either way, we could always go out another time, yeah? And no one predicted you were gonna get hurt like that, it’s not your fault, Peter.”

“Yeah, thanks babe.” your heart clenches as his dimples show through his toothy smile.

Clearing his throat, Peter’s large hands splayed across the small of your back, sliding you from his lower thighs to be flush against his crotch. He grins cheekily as you gasp, feeling his semi hard cock through the soft material of his unzipped uniform.

Hands laying to rest on his bare shoulders, you smooth your thumb over his collarbone. You move your other hand down from his left shoulder, your fingertips grazing down his arm before reaching his hand. Gently coaxing his grasp away from your hip, you interlace your fingers, clasping them together as his other hand frames your jaw.

“Hey.. uh, I think I might have a little scratch up here on my lip. I don't s’pose yer would be interested in checkin’ it out, doc?” Peter’s sweet, chocolate browns shed a spicier shade when he captures your gaze.

Your body answers before you can talk, tongue wetting your lips, leaving him in suspense for a moment.

You faux sigh in thought, “I guess I can’t leave a patient suffering. It would be medical malpractice, and I always make sure my patient gets the care he deserves.”

Peter’s eyes dilate then, and you begin to question whether or not he was joking about the roleplay kink. Alas, you had no more time to ponder as he didn’t waste a single second, bumping your nose against his before seizing your lips.

Kissing him sensually, your tongue swims smoothly against his as you move to scrape your fingers across his scalp. Whining in response, Peter’s head lolls back at the stimuli as you nibble his lower lip. You could feel Peter’s cock twitch and you grind slowly against it, eliciting a filthy moan from his mouth into yours.

As you swallow and get over the initial wave of adrenaline, a bitter and rather tangy taste invades your mouth, forcing you to pull back as Peter chases your lips. You place a hand to his chest, breathing hard and scrunching your face up. “Bleh!”

Peter’s half lidded gaze snaps back open as he observes your clear disgust, swiping his tongue over his own lips in questioning. “Uh- yer.. yer alright over there? I know ‘m sorta outta practise but-“

You swipe your thumb over your lips, noticing a few specks of dust covering them. Peter notices and brings a hand to his forehead, slapping himself at his idiocy.

“Shit! Sorry, babe. I totally just crashed here when i got back, forgot about the whole.. grime situation.” Peter grimaces, cursing himself under his breath, “Way to kill the fuckin’ mood, Maximoff.”

To his surprise, you only lean in closer, batting your eyelashes at him. “Patients have to be clean before assessments can begin. Standard procedure. I hope you don’t mind if I scrub you down?”

Your sultry voice forces a heat to pool in Peter’s belly, and he chokes on his own groan, pupils dilating further.

Fwip. You don’t even get the chance to scooch off his lap before Peter had you in his bathroom, shirtless and with his navy uniform dangling around his v-line. Another Fwip and Peter turned on the shower before pulling your back against his chest, tugging at your t-shirt as a silent plea of desperation and unbridled horniness.

Your mouth parts as his head dips into your shoulder. You swore you could hear the faintest of whimpers leave his mouth as he tenderly kisses your clothed shoulder, his lips humming small vibrations of aroused distress.

What choice did you have but to comply?

As you turned around, undressing yourself before him, Peter’s eyes drunk you in, his eyebrows twitching and his teeth sinking into his lip at your little strip show. Down to the last few articles of clothing, you removed your underwear slowly, a thread of wetness connecting your pussy with the soaked fabric.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, his hands quivering as you then slung your t-shirt somewhere around the room, eager to surge forward and grasp at every part of your body.

You smiled, flattered yet unsure of what to do, your eyes too preoccupied with Peter’s uniform, of which was slowly sliding down his hips, revealing the black band of his underwear.

“So.. nurse, I think 'm ready fer my physical.” Peter chuckled, observing proudly as your breathing sped up rapidly, gazing at his torso.

“Need any help undressing?” You asked, motioning to his bandaged chest and bruised arms. “It must be sore.”

“Yes please, nurse.” Peter replied flirtatiously, maintaining his character as patient. You stalk over to him, getting on your knees as you start pulling his uniform and boxers down as slowly as possible without Peter getting frustrated. As you do so, you notice his painfully hard dick slapping upwards from its confines. Smiling, you innocently glance up at Peter’s blushing state, inching forward as if you were about to…

Peter’s cock twitched and he gasped as you surged forward, only to completely pass where he needed you most as you teasingly peck the inside of his thigh, eyes still boring into his own.

“C’mon babe.. That ain’t playin’ fair.” A mix between a whine and a growl left Peter’s throat as you stood up to face his pleading eyes. Taking his face in your palms, your soft lips tease him by brushing against his lips, but not yet giving in to kissing him.

“I think It’s best if I check your temperature orally first.” You mumble. Capturing his lips roughly, your kiss turns into a wet, dueling passion. As you battle for dominance, Peter kicks off the clothing pooling around his ankles, guiding you backwards and into the awaiting shower.

Hot water cascades over you as he pulls you close again, diving in for another heated kiss that you’re all too eager to return.

You have no idea how long your tongues swirl around one another, but eventually a hand grips your wrist and tugs you away. You go easily, and when you look up at Peter, he grins giddily and places a bar of soap in your hands. You lick your lips, this time no longer unwelcomed by the taste of dust and plastering, but of Peter.

The room becomes stuffy as the water from the shower starts to get hot. You sigh as the hot water caresses your skin, or maybe it was from Peter running his hands over your body. They stop on your breasts before gently squeezing them, looking down at you with a dopey grin. You throw your head back as the water runs over your chest.

As Peter prodded and squeezed your tits like they were some new gadget you began the slow, worshipful task of running your soapy hands across his chest, making sure to leave the bandaged areas alone.

"I would really appreciate it if you communicated every ache, any pain that needs tendin’ to, sir." You say, moving to whisper the words in his ear sweetly, the filthy undertones dripping from your tongue.

Peter pauses briefly before managing to regain control over himself, grabbing your arm and pulling you impossibly close. He nuzzles into your neck as he whispers back in a playful manner. "I've got one in a specific place. Maybe yer could help me by usin’ those magic hands of yours, doc?"

"Mhh, or do you need me to kiss it better, Peter?" You tease, licking your bottom lip suggestively before biting the plump flesh with a wink.

Peter’s face turns into a huge blush and his heartbeat starts accelerating even more as he watches you move in close, staring into his eyes. His mind goes absolutely blank and he can only stare at you in shock. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks at your lips and how you bite them; and with that a strange flurry of stammers leave his mouth.

“Nghnaawhaaaaat?”

"Peter? Can you show me where it hurts, honey?" You continue to tease him with a pout. God, you were such a fuckin’ brat.

He can't help but feel both embarrassed and surprised at how forward your question is. He clears his throat "Uh... R-Right here, doll..." He says in a nervous manner as his blush deepens even more, then he points at his twitching cock. You follow his line of sight and smile, watching as beads of pre-cum drizzle out of his tip.

"Aww, poor baby. How long has it been hurting?" You furrow your brows, a mischievous look in your eyes as you place your hands on his chest, traveling downwards.

Peter looks at you with a shocked expression for the fifth time that night, tilting his head much like a puppy as he watches you in awe.

Shiit... Are you really doing this? It’s a good thing you didn’t fully embrace the doctor-patient performance with a stethoscope and all, because you’d certainly be worrying about the freakishly-fast roadrunner beat Peter’s heart was jammin’ to. Fuck.

"Do you want me to kiss it better, baby?" You quiz sweetly.

Peter starts to feel his breath getting heavier as his heart is racing faster, wayy too fuckin’ fast. "Ah... Y-Yeah..." He replies softly, still feeling his face turn into a brighter red as he slowly nods.

Every nerve in his body went on high alert as Peter watched your fingers close around his aching cock and move over the swollen flesh. A tortured gasp escaped his lips, and he threw his head back against the shower wall, panting; it felt so good, your smooth palm creating a delicious friction. He thrust forward into your hand, wanting you to continue, his shame at being naked and aroused gone entirely.

Your face was still close. Close enough to observe his face, fascinated at the raw sensuality flickering across it. Drops of water freckled Peter’s cheeks and forehead; you weren't sure if it was the spray from the shower or his own sweat. His mouth was open slightly, and his rough breathing was causing yours to speed up as well. You smoothed your hand back down his wet length and drew the other hand down to cup his balls.

Peter hissed loudly and pushed his hips forward again, cursing. You couldn't tear your eyes from his profile; he was flushed, his lips dusky and moist, the silver of his eyelashes standing out against his fevered cheek. Simply delectable, and you wanted to have a taste.

The touch of your lips on his neck brought Peter to the surface as you pressed your breasts to his chest, your lips everywhere. They ghosted over his collarbone, shoulder, neck and jaw before closing over his earlobe. He moaned, turning, seeking out your lips.

Peter's eyes opened as you released your hands from him. In no time Peter had locked lips with you once more, in a clash of teeth and moisture; whether it was spit or water you weren’t entirely sure. He raised his hands to your breasts at the same time your tongue parted the seam of his lips, and the two of you moaned together before fusing your open mouths.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Peter ground the raised centers of your nipples into his large palms, then rubbed a thumb over each in rhythm. Your initial intentions were to tease the ever-loving shit out of the speedster, but you couldn’t but melt into a puddle at his tender touches.

Peter’s erection was pressing into your belly, hard as steel. You ground against it, wanting it lower and inside, quickly losing your intention to mess around. Abruptly breaking the kiss to breathe, you quirked an eyebrow at Peter. "So, have you made up your mind?"

"Wha-?" He was adorably confused, his pupils dilated in the shadowy light. You grinned and reached between yourselves to stroke along his cock lightly, picking up the trickle of pre-cum on his cockhead and rubbing it around the smooth, ragingly red area.

Lightly pushing Peter back under the full spray, you sank to your knees in front of him. Handling him gently, you sucked the tip of him into your mouth, savoring the much nicer tangy sensataaion.

"Oh Fuck," The speedster moaned on a sharp inhalation of breath. This was progressing past the realm of sweaty-palm fantasies and straight into the embodiment of every pornographic dream he'd ever had; only those dreams had never felt quite so hot.

Your mouth was liquid fire over him, your tongue circling and teasing, making him grow even larger.

He resisted the urge to grab your head and thrust into your mouth like he had seen in the pornos, giving you free reign over his pleasure. Instead Peter coursed his hands through your damp hair, giving you wordless pats of praise when you traced up a particularly sensitive vein.

Already weak at the knees from your mouth, Peter nearly shot when he looked down and caught you watching him with feverish eyes. The image was so blatantly erotic, he couldn't help but complete it by curling his fingers deeper into your hair.

The slight jerk of his hands on your scalp told you that Peter was close to going completely out of control. His slight grunt and increased participation, in turn, increased your enthusiasm. Releasing your grip around the base of his cock, you tried to take him deeper. This you had tried before with varying amounts of success, usually gagging as the overzealous recipient tried to choke you.

However, with an untried Peter, you were having a great deal more success with the technique.

After figuring out how to time your breathing with the motions, you crept forward and began in earnest, taking Peter in until your nose touched his silvery pubic hair. His hands tightened again, and this time his whimper of pleasure was louder, needier.

He was so close, water pounding his chest, blood pounding in his ears, lips, tongue and friction at the center of it all.

Nearly mindless now, searching for that sweet release, Peter thrust forward a bit, searching for the movement that would send him over the edge. When he encountered no resistance from you, he thrust his hips in rhythm with your mouth until he could take no more.

You could feel Peter's flesh tightening and knew he was ready to blow a load. He tried to push you away before he let go, but you gripped the back of his thighs tightly and sucked hard, an explosion of cum shooting down your throat and tongue.

You gagged a little when the first stream hit the back of your throat, but you recovered enough to hear the incoherent whines Peter made. Another grunt escaped from him as you rubbed your soft tongue over the underside of his dick, moving over the pulsating veins there.

It was all Peter could do to keep from crumpling as he shot harder than he ever had in his life, knees weak from the sheer force of it.

If you hadn't been there to maintain the grip on his legs, he would have melted into a pile of jelly at your knees.

Once you had ridden out his orgasm and released him you stood back up, pushing back the soaken strands of hair that hung off his forehead. Peter grinned, chest heaving as he watched your tongue come out, licking a spot of his release you had missed on your lip.

“Feeling any better, sir?”

Again, Peter felt tongue-tied. He wasn't sure what to say or do. Even though he'd had the most soul-sucking orgasm of his life, his dick was still half-hard. Typical speedster sex drive.

The water was still hot, yet wouldn’t be lasting for much longer. He had to make this count.

Your breasts brushed his chest again when Peter leaned in to capture your lips with his. A slight squeak of surprise escaped you when he separated the seam of your lips with his tongue and pushed forward aggressively. Your tongues duelled, battling for position. Peter could taste the musky odor of his own arousal on your lips, strangely exotic. His hands were tender when he lifted the weight of your breasts in his hold.

Nothing in his fantasies matched the feel of your nipples as he circled over them. Softly puckered flesh dragged under the smooth calluses of his thumbs, causing you to moan softly and push your torso against his.

Straightening up, Peter grasped your waist tightly and with a smirk, swiftly spun you around, pushing you forward into the shower wall.

You let out a hiss as your nipples came in contact with the cold tiles, them becoming painfully hard. Peter gently pushed your hair aside before placing a chaste kiss on your neck; you moved your head to the side, allowing him better access.

Peter rested his forehead between your shoulder blades as the water ran down his back. He took a deep breath in, trailing a hand down your back before pulling back and slapping your ass. The loud moan that fell from your lips made him chuckle, "You've done yer job doc, now yer need payment.”

You nodded your head as you whimpered, feeling yourself become more and more turned on and unbelievably wet. You feel Peter’s tip rubbing your folds, spreading your moisture around as you whimper in anticipation.

You looked back over your shoulder to Peter glancing down at where you two meet. Raising an eyebrow, you went to say something but Peter's quick thrust into you made all the air in your lungs escape. You were wet enough that it didn’t hurt, but the delicious stretch it provided you made your eyes roll back into your head.

Hands slipping as you try to hold onto something, your breasts bounce into the wall as you whimper, legs spreading further so Peter could fully enter you.

Without stopping and with a thoughtful hum, Peter reached up towards the detachable shower head and flicked the setting to a steady stream of fast water, pulling it down.

You could hear him doing something and looked back over your shoulder to see him messing with the shower head, "Are you about to-" You let out a cry as you felt the pressure from the water on your clit, "Shi- shit! Peter!" The pleasure making your eyes roll back.

You attempt to snap your thighs shut, trying to escape the intense pressure on your bundle of nerves. Peter, however, had other plans as he huffs breathlessly, lips dragging up the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips at your ear, using a free hand to spread your legs apart.

“Yer need to keep ‘em spread for me. Y-yer can do that fer me, can’t ya, babe?” He grunts into your ear. You whimper, nodding.

“That’s a- f-fuck.. good girl.”

In a carnal rage, a clatter sounds as Peter drops the shower head, gripping your hips with both hands as he fucks up into you, leaning his bodyweight onto yours to give him more leverage. The faster he fucked into you, the faster the feeling of your climax crested. This one felt different, more intense, and you both knew it.

You make a pitiful noise, again and again as Peter drives his cock into your cunt, hitting your G-spot every single time.

“Therrre she is. Is that it, yeah? That spot feel good, honey?” You could feel Peter’s grin against your throat. “Yer squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. Can yer hear that?”

The slick sounds of his cock fucking into you was loud over your pants for air, and you nodded weakly. You felt slick and pre-cum run down your thighs as Peter moved in and out of your heat in rapid succession, much like an animal in heat. "I think yer might even squirt fer me, doc.”

A shuddered moan fell from your lips before you agree. Sharp, white hot pleasure tore through your body, from head to toe, and you keened as Peter forced himself deeper. "Yer pushin' me out, babe-lemme in, need to feel it," he moaned. "Fuck, yer so pretty; that's it, that- Fuck!"

You felt the dampness of your thighs before you could comprehend the heightened pleasure, and you glanced down to watch Peter’s lower half become soaked from your climax. "Oh-" You turned your head as much as you could to face him, eyes half lidded.

From his position behind you, Peter crashed his lips to yours and forced his tongue into your mouth, fucking it languidly while his hips stuttered in their rhythm. You panted as he pulled back, his breath fanning over your spit-slick lips.

"I need ter cum, baby-" he pleaded, thrusting deeper.

"Please, please-lemme cum in-"

"Yes," you rasped, nodding. “Please- i need you to cum in me so bad-”

Peter groaned and shuddered. He lowered his head to your shoulder and rested his forehead on vour collarbone. You could hear him panting over the slapping of skin and slick noises of his cock in your cunt, and you matched his thrusts in an attempt to bring him closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure curling up your spine, but you brushed it off, intent on making Peter cum - you squeezed around him and circled your hips. The whimpery noises he makes only make you clench harder, wrapping him in a vice you never want to let go of.

Suddenly, the hot spray of water turns cold and you gasp, arching your back and clamping yourself down on Peter’s cock with all the strength you could muster, tipping him over the edge.

“I-ngh.. Shit!” Peter panted and his hips faltered, a warmth soon blooming in your cunt, filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your quivering body.

The slow, rocking rhythm Peter set with his hips soothed you, bringing you slowly down from your high while he descended from his. "Fuckin' hell, babe," he murmured, and he kissed you on the lips, then the forehead.

The room is full of the scent of arousal, and it makes you feel high up in the clouds, filling your head with the syrupy-sweet fuzziness of speedy contentment.

You must have zoned out for a little bit, because the next thing you’re aware of is the sound of the shower being turned off, and strong yet shaking arms scooping you up off your feet. You were deposited outside the walls of the shower, and then a soft towel is being worked around your body, collecting the droplets of water falling off your hair and frame.

"Let's get yer warmed up, babe."

Before long, you’re bundled up in a bathrobe, hair perfectly brushed out, and being placed gently onto the couch you had been making out with Peter on not too long ago. The volume of the TV had been lowered, allowing you to hear Peter's soft mumblings of praise in your hair as he lays below you, arms cradling you to his chest. His sweatpants feel comfy against your bare legs, and your palms rest on the cotton of his white t-shirt he had changed into.

“Can we watch The Empire Strikes Back?” Peter murmurs into your hair, making you grin as it takes you back to the day you met him in the auditorium. Humming contently, you fish your hand down the side of the sofa in search of the tv remote. You furrow your brows however as you feel something rather furry brush against your fingertips.

Pinching it between your two fingers you pluck it out of the couch, inspecting the small… seed?

Peter’s eyes follow your gaze as he gasps softly in remembrance, craning his head to the side to see an abundance of dandelion seeds littering the couch. Peter frowned. He had forgotten about the strange flower he had plucked due to the abrupt slab of concrete disrupting his day. The seedlings must have fallen out of his uniform when you were tending to his wounds.

“Shit! That was meant ter be a surprise, babe.” Peter frowned sulkily, plucking the puffball from your fingertips. “I found these weird lookin’ flowers on the mission and wanted to show them to yer. Thought i discovered a new species er somethin’.”

Despite your heart warming at the kind yet failed gesture, you laughed. “Peter, honey, they’re dandelions. Weeds.” You grinned, watching as his mouth forms an ‘o’ in realization.

“But.. at least they’re rare, right?”

You thin your lips out into a line whilst shaking your head, trying not to laugh as the speedster groans, throwing his head back.

“Ugh, I could’ve totally avoided that wall if it weren’t fer these fuckin’ things,” Peter drops the dandelion seed, letting it float to the polished wooden floor. “All that fer nothin’!”

You snuggle further against him, grazing around his bandages with a confused expression. “I do appreciate the gesture, but I thought you got these from the fight? Not from.. A wall?” You appear more perplexed as you try to imagine the scenario. “Did you.. run into it or somethin’?”

Peter sighed. Another point to add too his ‘you royally suck, dude!’ tally chart. How many times had he embarrassed himself before you now, five?

“No, it-” He grimaced “-it slammed into me.” He watched as you squinted your eyes, picturing how it went down. “Don’t fret though, babe, I totally showed it who’s boss. Knocked some sense into it.” He grinned, stroking your drying hair.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,�� You grin, tracing further down the trail of wounds and scratches. “Seems like it knocked more sense into you, though.”

Peter scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal before looking down at you, smiling lopsidedly. “Do I get a lolly fer bein’ so brave, doc?”

He smirks at your flushed expression and you still for a moment, before reaching into your bathrobe pocket and pulling out the panties you had strewn across the bathroom earlier. Peter's eyes widen.

“Here, take these.” You say simply, lazily dropping the material into his hand. Peter beams, face dusted pink. He’ll find some use for those, you’re sure. It won’t be a surprise if you find them framed up in his room, next to his Greta Van Fleet poster.

The next morning you change, treading down the corridor into the living room. Scott is slung across the sofa’s armrest watching the news as Jean sits on the other end by his socked feet, reading a book. Kurt and Ororo share a large armchair nearby, also watching the TV as Peter leans against a wall, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Not like he needs it anyway.

As you walk in Peter raises his mug at you, nodding and grinning toothily as you greet him back. You silently hope he hadn’t mentioned the prior events to the others.

You ask Scott to turn the volume up and he groans tardily, reaching down the back of the sofa to fish for the remote. You go into shock, however, when he furrows his brows, pulling out a lacy pair of underwear instead. Your underwear.

Scott holds them up in the air with his index finger and thumb, flushing wildly and looking around the room in search of answers. Jean lowers her book, giving you a disapproved stare before continuing her new read of the day. Ororo squeals in laughter and Kurt goes a deep shade of bluey purple, his gaze anywhere but your panties.

“Well, what do we have here?” You could hear the smugness through Scott’s voice as you look wildly across the room to Peter. He only hums, as if in question, no doubt reminiscing on the memories of last night as he sips his coffee, pleased.

You meet his eyes, desperately searching for something to say as he winks at you, strolling up behind the couch to inspect your underwear like he didn’t know whose they were.

Sighing in relief, you thought you were going to get away with it, the embarrassment slowly ebbing out of your head; that was until Peter’s voice piped up.

“Babe, I swear those are your panties, right?”

Okay, maybe Peter was a little bit of a jackass.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #quicksilver #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff smut #quicksilver smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters x reader

[icannot3]

"The Ice Cream Massacre"

(Peter Maximoff x reader)

Today, I got my wisdom teeth removed, so this is a bit of a self insert based on what happened lmaoo. But the idea came to me and I figured, why not have someone else also laugh at my actions? LMAOO hope you enjoy it. Hopefully, I'm not still too high and can actually write coherently :').

1.1k words

This is honestly really fluffy, no warnings unless the idea of getting your wisdom teeth taken out makes you squeamish!

................

Peter rarely would ever drive, not with his ability to run anywhere at any given moment. But today, he'd found it to be something he needed to do. When you'd asked him to take you to get your wisdom teeth removed, he figured you knew about the fact that he would have little to no mercy when it came to photographing the moment. He considered capturing the experience a boyfriendly, no- a civic duty. He himself had never had them removed, nor did his sisters. This was just an entirely taboo experience for the both of you. But what he did know was the fact that this was going to be absolutely hilarious. That being said, he'd been looking forward to this particular moment for a while.

You were lucid and hardly able to sit in the car. He couldn't help but notice you were also unable to control your face, jaw gaped open and stuffed with gauze. Despite the roughness of your exterior, he still found your disheveled state all the more endearing. He closed the door behind you after making sure you were safely fastened in before entering the driver's side. The nurse that had wheeled you out was laughing. She was quick to inform him about a few of the comments you'd made in your high state of mind that had left she and the orthodontist in hysterics during the operation. This was perfect.

He looked over, and you were touching your chin as if you were confused it was there. Clearly distraught, your hand then went to caress the rest of your now rather ample cheek. "Peter, I can't v'eel my v'ace." Your words were almost incoherently slurred as you were unable to tongue certain syllables. You turn towards him and look over, eyes creased with concern. He'd already lost it.

"Babe, trust, it's still there." He was laughing whilst shaking his head, fully excited now for what he was getting into. He was careful to bring his finger to your cheek, gently squishing the inflamed area. "See? Right here." You shook your head in disbelief. "I don't f'ink so." He pulled down his car mirror, allowing you to examine yourself in disbelief. "My head is so big." You were touching your lips that were way beyond numb, unable to register the sensation beyond your fingertips.

"Peter, I want a frostie." The statement reminded him of what the nurse had said to him prior. She'd explained that you'd been talking about how badly you wanted to go to Wendy's for some ice cream. You were rather insistent and apparently repeated your desire for it a multitude of times. He switched the car into drive, obeying her wishes. "I can do that for ya', sweetie." You were smiling to the best of your abilities, but the swolleness of your cheeks made it look more like a joyous grimace if anything.

"I feel wonderful. I get why people smoke weed now. This is justtt- great!" You went on extatically, "they can pull another one of my teeth any day if they promise to do that." You were giggling, enjoying riding out this perfectly legal high. His jaw dropped, running his free hand across his forehead and through his hair. Not in annoyance, but rather shock over your boldness on the anesthetic. He hadn't stopped laughing since you entered the car and it was only getting louder with each small remark you made. "Kinda wish I had mine pulled now so I'd know how it feels." He spoke, eyeing you up in your blissfully unaware state.

"Yeah, you're missin' out, man." You stretched your arms out as if to exemplify the large amounts of happiness you were feeling. What would he do with you? Well, love you, of course. Finally, the two of you pulled into the Wendy's Drive through. It was still breakfast time because you were one of the first operations of the day.

"Can I please get a large Vanilla Frostie?" He spoke into the microphone, a hand squeezing your thigh playfully to respond to the small excited squeal you'd made in response. "I'm sorry, sir, we don't sell those until lunch." The service worker had singlehandedly crushed your dreams with just one statement. Peter looked over at you, frozen with a face of displeasure. Pulling out of the drive-through, he went into the parking lot to discuss another game plan.

But you didn't want another game plan. As a matter of fact, you were so set on your own craving that the sudden denial had you in tears. In any other state of mind, you wouldn't have taken this loss so hard. But this Frostie had felt like your lifeline, the excitement of the hour. You were left in complete, unfixable, distraught. In seconds, you were sobbing with despair. Peter panicked, unsure how to console your clearly shaken state. He rubbed your back, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. Acting fast, in the corner of his eyes, he saw a McDonald's restaurant. They sold ice cream, right? All hope towards pleasing his lady was restored. He turned his car quickly into the other drive-through. You'd surprisingly registered what was happening enough to calm down, finding contempt in more than just Wendy's ice cream. He rolled down his window, "Can I please get a plain vanilla sunday?"

And guess what was fucking broken? The ice cream machine, of course. Mcdonalds should have never even been a thought or suggestion when it comes to their ice cream machines known reliability. Peter had done a lot of stupid things in his life, but this felt like the absolute cap sealing it all, especially his unrelenting foolishness. Once again, you were in hysterics because the small town the two of you were in just so happened to only have a choice of three restaurants to choose from. Defeated, he had no choice but to take you home. When he did, he quickly ran to the nearest grocery store and opted to grab you ice cream in a tub instead. But even that was fruitless because the moment your head hit the pillow you were gone in a deep, drug-induced, comatose sleep that any reasonable force of nature wouldn't dare disturb.

It was that moment he realized he'd not yet taken a photo. Quickly, he grabbed his small Polaroid camera. A loud click followed underneath the pressure of his trigger finger. He watched the photo as it developed. It was a beautiful sight, truly. There you were, spread out across his bead, mouth wide open and drooling as if the other stresses of the day meant nothing. He just couldn't wait to remind you of it all once you awoke.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #x men #x men comics #fluff #peter maximoff fluff #wanda mcu #peter maximof x reader

[jellyluvr]

I mean, if you want requests, I'll gladly oblige 👀. How about one with Peter Maximoff (you write him really well) where he takes the reader out on a cute date that happens to be a little illegal. For example, like him running them to the top of the Eifle Tower or something just because she said she always wanted to see it. (It doesn't have to be this I was just throwing out an idea). Thank you!

For you 🫵

- Peter maximoff x gn!reader⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Okay so this is rlly cute!! I'm thinking like, maybe like to Egypt? Cuz he can probably flirt better. Plus it'd be really cute. And this is gonna be pretty short!! Probably under 1k. Sorry!

Tw: heights and hotness. From u 😉💋

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧

Peter opened your door, no warning before he stepped in with a huge grin on his face.

"Heyyyyyy beautiful." He smiled, flashing his pearly whites before he stood infront of you, shifting his weight on one foot making him look sort of like a diva. "What's up?" You smiled, laughing a little. Peter was always a dork. A weirdo, but at least he was unique.

"You wanna go somewhere? Like China? You can uhh.. I dunno. Go see the great big wall..?" He grinned, his hands going up to set an example. You laughed at him, leaning back on your bed as you thought about it. Egypt'd be pretty cool. Standing on top of a pyramid? That'd be awesome.

"Egypt?" You asked, looking up at him. He just stood there for a second, then in the next few seconds you stood infront of.. well.. the world.

The blazing sun hit your face and you stumbled back a little, covering your eyes as you looked around you. You looked down, sand and hundreds of stairs staring back at you. You then realized where you were, and you turned back to look at Peter, his hands on his hips as he smiled.

"Hi." He waved, not seeming to understand how disrespectful he was being. At least that was what you thought. You didn't know fully, but you assumed it was pretty messed up to get on an ancient pyramid.

"Hi??" You shook your head slightly, looking at the sight in front of you. You began to feel sweaty, turning back at Peter only to be flashed with a white light. Peter held a Polaroid, shaking it before handing it to you. You looked at it, peter taking a photo of himself as he smiled bigger than ever.

"Yknow I've been here before." He bragged, quite proud of himself. "I'm sure you've been everywhere peter." You rolled your eyes, a smile creeping up on your face before you took another photo, him and you in the frame this time. But, in this one you looked angelic. So did peter.. but he was always somehow majestic.

"Jesus.. it's so hot." You complained finally, peter now finding a time to compliment you again. "Just like you." He winked, his perfect teeth peeking out again. He seemed to find too much enjoyment in teasing you. Or just complimenting you, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

Your face turned a pink, but it was from the sun and from him. Peter did finally take the hint, and in another second you were back in your room, not so sweaty anymore.

You sat down on the bed, recovering from the little amount of dizziness as you watched peter mess with your bulletin board. You watched him write something, but then he turned back, giving you a little kiss before going back down on your bed. You squinted up at the photo, it being you two in the orange heat, the writing under it being

"Hotties?" You turned to peter, him laying down on your bed his hand behind his head. He nodded, his eyes closed as his smiled. "You're so unoriginal." You laughed, leaning back on the bed next to him as you laid your head on his chest, one hand of his going down to pet your hair.

"We should go to the Bahamas." You muttered, and peter just sighed. "Unoriginal."

⋆ ˚⋆ ˚

Alright thats all. Sorry for how short it is I have A LOT to write. Like 15 drafts.. lol... anyway no more requests pls!!

Taglist: @kaismanwich @tatelangdonsgirll @howtobesasha @kaiju-superstar @daylas-life @hyperharlz @ima0nahlol @luttic

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximof x reader #evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #evan peters fluff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This pt. 15

Dark! Peter Maximoff x fem reader (Mob Au)

I hope you like it! we’re getting into the middle stretch of sweet dreams and as the chapters go on there will be even more angst but even more fluff. And not to mention some smut, not quite yet but soon. 

Summary:  Peter has felt like a piece of him has been missing ever since he was taken away from his mother to be raised by his father. But when you seem to fill that piece there’s no way he’s ever letting you go

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1.4K (on the shorter side but I’ll make it up to y’all in the next chapter )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11| Part 12 | Part 13

Peter had been reluctant to let you go, every time you had tried to ease him off the floor he resisted. Head burying further into you, and hands attempting to drag you down to his level. So you had settled with sitting on the floor behind him, leaning against the frame of his bed while he sat with his face hidden in the crook of your neck, hiding his tear stained face from you as he breathed in your scent. When you were at the manor before you had never indulged him this way unless he had begged and pleaded for it. So while you were willingly giving it away Peter was going to milk it for all it was worth. 

When he first saw you he wanted to demand you to tell him why you left, he wanted to yell until his voice got hoarse and until you cried the way he had every night since you left. He wanted to make you feel as much pain as he had felt in your absence, but he couldn't help the way he sank to his knees upon seeing you. Like a faithful worshiper falling before their benevolent god. And it all melted away to be replaced with that boyish sadness that he had been trying to keep at bay. It manifested into waves as he felt your gentle touch welcome him in, a thing you had only done once before. And once again he was entirely yours. 

Truth be told his anger with you was nothing compared to the longing he had felt in your absence.He had tried finding you and he had, but he wasn't allowed to contact you at all. All his letters were returned and his calls blocked. It was as if a piece of him was ripped away and placed on a shelf he couldn’t reach no matter what he tried. For the longest time he believed that those were intentional, that you had moved on and cut him out as his father had told him in between strikes. Each stinging of the belt across his wrist or across his back cemented the idea that you didn't want anything to do with him. 

As a result he reverted back into what remained of his old self. He did things he regretted and some that he was numb to. He did as his father told him to do without so much as a complaint. A verbal one at least, he still found other forms of retaliation. Silent ones that Peter seemed to care about more than his father. Such as refusing to eat, his father didn't seem to care as long as he got his work for the day done. His lack of eating was something he regretted terribly now. When you had moved to sit on the floor with him he had caught a glance of himself in the reflection of the window and was mortified. His silver hair was dull and hung limply around his face, its shine long gone. His eyes were dull and bloodshot, dark purple bags marring the pale skin under his eyes. His face gaunt from a lack of food.

That's why when you asked him to look at you he couldn't. You looked even more beautiful than he remembered, and now more than ever he knew you were too good for him. “Peter.” You tired, shifting as you felt his head shake against your shoulder. You had left him alone for a while after that, but the ache in your spine from sitting on the floor for too long was taking its toll. So you tried again.  “Please look at me.” 

“I can’t.” His words muffled. 

“Yes you can.” You mused, hands petting the hair at the nape of his neck and the exposed skin below it. “I missed your pretty brown eyes, I want to see them.” 

After a moment Peter spoke, his voice cracking from its lack of use. “Pretty brown eyes?” His voice was hesitant. “You think I have pretty eyes?” 

You smiled to yourself at his unsureness. “Yes. You have very pretty eyes. May I see them?” 

Peter reluctantly removed himself from the comfort of your embrace, one he had been in for hours on end. You let him move at his own pace, waiting until he was face to face with you, his eyes cast downward. You gave him a moment before your hands came to lay on either side of his face. The action making his brows shoot up and eyes meet yours. You thumbed at the apple of his cheek in a soothing motion, your brow furrowing as you took him in. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

“I’ve slept.” He muttered, shaky hands coming up to mirror the way you held his face. You did your best not to flinch when his cold hands made contact with your skin. Peter let out a shaky breath, never touching you this way before. He laid his hands flat across your cheeks, far from the gentle cupping of his face that you were doing. Almost as if he was trying to memorize your face through feeling alone. His nimble fingers tracing the contours of your nose and the lines of your jaw. Stopping when they found their perch, your skin soft under his calloused hands. 

“You haven’t.” You chided, feeling the raised and puffy skin under his eyes. 

“I have.” He grumbled, upset that you weren't taking his word for it. You just hummed and took your hands away from his face. Automatically his hands quickly flew to yours, forcing them to stay pressed against his face, thumbs hooked under his jaw. His nails digging into your skin in an uncomfortable way. Like he had the first morning you spent with him before he had punished himself for the action. You gritted your teeth and waited for that moment to come, where he would let you go but he didn't, the pain increasing with every passing second. 

You tried to move your hands again only for his to slip lower, hands now slotted around your wrists, a grip that would be impossible to break without damaging your skin.  “Peter.” You tried, voice laced with fear. You were alarmed by the fact that he didn't seem to care about the pain he was causing you, it seemed that he only cared about whether you held him or not. “Peter please.” When he didn't let you go, you angled your fingers so that the nails of them dug into the skin of his cheeks, it wasn't very much pressure but the slight prick of pain caused Peter to drop your hands and move away.  

He fell back onto his hands and stared at you in horror. “You hurt me.” 

You didn't know how to respond to the broken tremble in his voice. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“You hurt me.” He repeated, eyes glossing over before the tears spilled over onto his cheeks. “Why did you hurt me?”

You tired to make your voice as understanding as possible, heart breaking when he flinched as you reached out for him. You retracted your hand. “You wouldn't let me go.” 

Peter frowned at your response, you felt yourself shrink into yourself, scared at how quickly his tears seemed to dry. But as if sensing this change in you his tears reappeared. “Because if I let you go, you’d leave me again.” The rawness of his words was like a sucker punch to your gut. 

“I’m not going to leave you.” You whispered; voice soft. “I made you a promise.”

“My dad makes me promises all the time.” Peter muttered, hands picking at the sleeves of his shirt.

“I keep my promises.”

“I don’t believe you.” Peter said, still not meeting your gaze.

You could feel yourself losing the momentum your had over him, and the feeling hurt you in more ways than one. In a way you didn’t want to admit you cared about. But it prodded you and seemed to rip the next words straight from your throat. “How can I prove it to you?”

Peter starred at you with calculating eyes, sensing an opportunity at hand. There was so many things he wanted to ask for, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. The shame of it making his face burn red. But after a while he managed to ask. “Spend the night with me?”

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[violetwitch12087]

When you're walking down the street to go home you bump into something or someone a silver headed mutant and when you guys become best friends and you go over to his house his mom loves you and as you're about to beat his high score on his arcade game he tries to stop you but you have an idea..

Clumsy

I walk down the street my backpack on my back going home from school when suddenly i bump into something i fall and land on my butt but my hands cushioned my fall i look up too see a silver headed actually really cute boy

He has dimples you can barley see when hes not smiling perfect lips a silver jacket a pink Floyd shirt and black jeans i thought i was the clumsy one it was almost like he appeared out of no where well maybe hes a mutant since his hair is literally silver

We look at each other for a moment before he quickly stands up and puts a hand out for me which i gladly take "sorry for running into you" he says and i shrug my shoulders a bit "its whatever at least you aren't a asshole" i say and he smiles his dimples more defiant

"And at least you didnt use your backpack to hit me a whole bunch of times" he says and a laugh escapes my lips and he looks down at my lips almost thinking of something but i just met him i dont wanna push him already "you're really pretty" he mutters out regret filling his face after but a blush just appears on my cheeks making butterflies in my stomach erupt

"Thank you" i mutter softly and nervously if theres one thing i hate about myself is my anxiety and nervousness i clear my throat trying to look more confident and put my hand out "my names y/n" i say and i see his eyes light up a bit "peter" he says taking my hand in his, his hand engulfing mine thats so attractive holy shit

I shake his hand our handshake lasting longer then it shouldve but im not complaining "can i uh maybe have your number? If you dont wanna give me it its fine I've gone through that before and stuff you know like really its fine" peter starts rambling and i laugh again softly before i grab his phone and put my number in it putting my name and a heart next to it

I pass the phone back to him and he looks down at the contact almost in disbelief before he looks back at me a smile going back on his face "thanks" he says and i nod softly "text me later handsome" i say before i breeze past him my arm touching his before i start walking home thinking of peter the entire time when i finally get home i put my backpack down and change before flopping onto my bed and i feel a vibration from my pocket i pull out my phone and see a random number texted me and i open it

'hey sweetheart its peter or should i say handsome?' he teases making me blush even more damn it i barley met him and i get butterflies when i even so much as think about him 'oh yeah? Okay babe i need to go to bed ill text you tomorrow?' i send and wait a moment before he responds 'yeah text me when you're free my love' he says and i squeal covering my face with my hands we barley met what the fuck but he's really cool i mean he listens to pink floyd i think i might really get along with him

I close my eyes pulling the blanket closer to me as i fall asleep peter stuck in my mind all night

______________________

The next day after school i walk down the same path where i met peter i would be lying if i said I didn't hope i saw peter when i feel a gust of wind infront of me i look up and am met with the eyes of speak of the devil, peter.

"Hey sweetheart" he says and i roll my eyes playfully "hey handsome" i say and i see a smile appear on his face "where ya headed off too?" He asks and i shrug "i might actually go to the store i needa pick up some things" i say and he nods "well can i go with you?" He asks and i look up at him before nodding and we start heading to the store

We get to the store and we walk inside going to get bread and milk and just the essentials and all that and before i could walk up to pay and scan my stuff i end up in the blink of an eye in the cart moving fastly for a split second and were outside i look around and see peter pushing the cart "what the hell was that for pete?" I ask and he shrugs a smug grin on his face "well with my mutation lets just say i don't really pay for a lot of stuff i cant resist it" he says "kleptomaniac" i murmur under my breath playfully and he nudges me with his elbow "exactly" he says making me smile

"Okay now i have to walk all the way to my house while holding these bags" i whine resting my hands on the cart and resting my head onto my hands covering my face "who says you alone?" He says and i smile lifting my head up "okay here's how its gonna work you grab the bags and put them on your wrists and hands and stuff and ill carry you to your house" he says and i look at him in disbelief

"What you dont believe me or somethin?" He asks and i shake my head "okay fine grab the bags" he says and i grab them putting my arm through the holes in the bag and peter walks over to me and picks me up bridal style making me squeal "omg peter please dont drop me" i say "im not that weak you know" he says rolling his eyes playfully making me smile "okay lay your head against my chest" he says and i look up at him confused "so you dont get whiplash" he says like it was obvious "oh" i mutter softly and rest the side of my head and face against his chest. Totally not enjoying this

In a flash we end up at the corner of the store and i give peter directions every time we stop and we make it to my house way quicker than if we walked i turn to peter "stay right here i havent said bye yet" i say and he smiles slightly as i go inside and set the bags onto the counter and walk back outside i go over to peter and pull him into a hug which he surprizingly accepts

My arms wrapped around his neck my head on his shoulder his arms wrapped around my waist securely i smile and give peter a peck on the cheek lingering it a bit "thank you handsome" i say softly "no problem sweetheart" he says and we finally pull away from each other despite my body and mind and heart yearning to hold him close to me again "ill text you later" i say and he nods "okay talk to you later" he says and i send him a wink before walking into my house and i start putting groceries away

After a while i end up finishing and i go to bed peter stuck in my mind like everytime

____________________

It has been a couple weeks now maybe a month and a half since me and peter met and started flirting and my feelings for him have sky rocketed i talk to him every day and night i think about him i even have dreams about him

Today i actually dont have school its the weekend and i really wanna see peter i dont know he just makes me so happy and we really get along hes so sweet to me i pick up my phone and press his contact 'hey handsomeee i dont have school today what ya doin?' i text him and wait for an answer which comes quick (pun intended) (get it cs hes fast? No? Okay my bad😭)

'hey sweetheart im really just bored you wanna hang out?' he sends and i smile 'of course i always wanna hang out with my favorite person' i say 'awe ur so sweet ill meet you at the same meet up spot' he says 'okay im heading out now see you in a bit' i send and i turn off my phone before putting it in my pocket and i start heading out the front door

I walk to go down the same trail where me and peter met that day and look around for peter when someone grabs my shoulders from the back and shakes me a bit "boo!" Peter says making me jump "god peter you scared the fuck out of me" i say raising my hand to hit him on his arm he saw this hit from miles away but let my hand come in contact with his arm (cs hes such a sweetheart)(god i love him)

"I had to do it" he says shrugging his shoulders and i roll my eyes playfully "what do you wanna do?" I ask as we start walking "okay dont make this seem weird but do u maybe wanna come over to my place?" He says and i immediately nod "of course i dont mind you're my bestfriend after all" why did i say that no i wanna be more than friends peter god im so stupid

Peter walks behind me making me confused before he bends down and picks me up bridal style again making me smile and i lay my head against his chest again and in a flash were infront of a pretty good looking house and peter slowly sets me down "thank you" i say softly "your welcome" he says smiling at me before we start heading to the front door

He opens it and we walk in "ma im home i have a friend" he yells "im in the kitchen" someone responds im guessing his mom since he called her ma we walk down to the kitchen where im met with a lady with brown almost blond hair in a ponytail to the side she seems sweet hopefully shes as sweet as peter is?

"Hi ms maximoff" i say putting my hand out and the lady seems taken back she smiles and takes my hand in hers "nice to meet you.."

"Y/n" i say "oh nice to meet you y/n you seem like a sweetheart, you and pete a thing or what cause she isnt that bad and i wouldnt mind" she says making a blush appear on my face a small laugh building inside of me "unfortunately me and peter are just friends, even if i wish we were together" i mumble the last part thinking she didnt hear it but oh she did "and she is a sweetheart thats what i call her" peter says and i have to look away to not show myself flustered

"Well me and y/n are gonna hang out downstairs" peter says as were about to start walking when his mom stops me she pulls me close to her and puts her mouth close to my ear "peters been gushing about a girl recently and i heard him say her name and it sounds like yours if you wish you guys were together then maybe go for it you only meet someone once and you seem like you would take care of pete and keep him in line" she says and i nod "and if he does like me i will ill treat him so well ill keep him off your shoulders i know how much energy he could have" i say and she smiles before i head back towards peter and we head down the steps to the house basement guess he lives down here its fine it looks actually kinda cool

"What did my mom say to you" peter asks as i look around and start to walk to a arcade machine peter has wow i want one of these "nothing important" i lie starting a game moving the joystick peter stands up and walks over to me standing next to me watching the screen as well after a couple moments im almost about to beat peters high score when he starts trying to take my hand off the joystick

Without thinking i grab peters collar and pull him close to me and place a quick kiss on his lips making him pause and look at me confused after a second i keep going and then i finally die i excitedly jump up and down "i won! I beat you peter!" I taunt starting to turn towards him when my lower back is pushed into the game peters hands on my waist my arms reach up to wrap around peters neck he looks down at me with doeful eyes

He starts to lean down our lips teasing each other as we barely touch then finally our lips connect we move our lips against one another my hands pulling him impossibly closer by his neck his arms wrap around my waist pulling me flat against him before he lets one arm go and gently puts his hand on my cheek as we kiss softly not wanting to let each other go our lips finally separate and he looks down at me while i look up at him looking into his beautiful brown eyes i dream of

"So uh you have a boyfriend?" He jokes nervously "yeah his names peter" i say before i grab his face with my hands and lay more kisses to his soft lips which he gratefully accepts kissing me back more relaxed and freely than the first time making me smile into the kiss causing him to smile as well

We pull away and i turn back to the game peters arm wraps around my waist as he watches me playing the game i couldnt be happier....

****************

This is the cutest thing I've ever seen omg i love this with my whole heart i love peter so much hes such a sweetheart hes a lover boy god i wish this was real😭 anyways i love you a lot as well you mean so much to me you dont even understand *mwah mwah mwah* bye bye my love

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