#quicksilver fluff

[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

[quickiesgirl]

Cuddle Me For a Bit Longer - Peter Maximoff

Warnings: None <3

A/N: Omg, my fluff is so rusty right now, I'm so sorry.

After a long stressful mission, you were finally on the jet safely with your teammates, heading back home. Your boyfriend, Peter Maximoff, sat beside you in the second row of seats just behind Jean and Scott. 

Peter pulled his goggles upon his silver hair, and gazed over at you, watching you let out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair. 

 “You okay, babe?” He asked, those dark brown eyes looking into yours. He slid his hand under yours and held it, bringing a tender smile to spread across your face. “Yeah, just exhausted.” 

“If you want, you can lay against me and get some rest.” Peter told you, his thumb nervously fiddling against the back of your hand, “I’ll wake you up when we get home.” 

“Deal.” You softly nodded and scooted closer to him in your seat, resting your head against his shoulder, hugging his arm like a pillow that was pressing against your chest. A warm fuzzy feeling overcame you as your eyes slowly closed, happy to have Peter safely in your grasp. 

The whole team was pretty worn out when the jet landed in the middle of the night, everyone was practically dragging themselves out one by one.

Peter gazed over at you as you slept, he knew how much you needed the rest so instead of waking you, he slowly unbuckled you and slipped his arms under your legs and around your back, lifting you up in with ease, bridal style before carrying you into the mansion. 

 He couldn’t help but smile as butterflies grew in his stomach, you looked so adorable snuggling against his chest, nestled in his arms. 

Peter quietly pushed your bedroom door shut with the back of his foot as he carried you over to your twin-size bed and laid you down on your back.

He moved down and carefully unzipped your bulky boots, setting them on the floor beside him before eying your tight suit. He didn't want to take it off you without your permission, but he felt bad leaving you to sleep in it, so instead, he decided to wake you.

“H-Hey, Babe.” He softly whispered, watching your eyes slowly open and adjust on the silver-haired boy, “mhm yea?” 

“You have to take off your suit.” He softly whispered. You sleepily nodded as you detached your chest plate and unzipped your suit, slowly slipping it down your legs. 

 You were still too sleepy to realize that you only had on a shirt that you stole from him and some white silky underwear. Peter tried to look away until you were covered up but couldn’t help but ogle you for a split second, his eyes moved down taking a quick glance at your pillowy thighs with warm, blushing cheeks before looking off into the distance, replaying the image he just saw over and over in his mind. 

You laid back and wrapped your arms around your waist, holding the sheets against you as you looked up at him, “Hey Pete?”  

He gazed back at you, “Yeah?” 

 “Could you cuddle me for a bit longer?” You asked, making Peter's heart almost skip a beat. “S-sure, of course.” 

You scooted over as you watched him quickly speed his shoes and suit off, almost tripping in the process. He slipped under the covers and tenderly held you as you laid your head against his chest with your arms draped around his waist.

Peter and you couldn’t be any happier, all night the two of you snuggled, basking in each other's warmth.

Taglist: @de4ds0up @raincoffeeandfandoms @try-cry-why-try @murd3rrhouse @writinginpeace @mayo-advance @violate-larmon

Message if you want to be added or removed.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff xmen #quicksilver #quicksilver fluff #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver xmen #x men fanfiction #xmen #quickiesgirl writing

[sunflowerharrington]

The Dating Plan (Part Two.)

read part one here <3

-> Summary: The smutty part. Minors DNI! And the fake relationship doesn’t seem so fake anymore 👀

-> Notes: @quickiesgirl is still an icon, as always. Enjoy babes! Also the first time I wrote part 2 it didn’t save at ALL so… whoops? i guess

-> Word Count: 3212

-> Warnings: Minors DNFI, smut, 18+, viewer discretion is advised, p in v, not that graphic cause they’re still like 18 and 19 in this respectively, praise kink, peter is not a good dom lol (bottom bitch tingz💅), not a warning but a condom is used because like i’m not writing a baby fic yet

-> Taglist: @quickiesgirl, @xxlangdon, @langdon-cumslut, @sympathyforher, @wzrlds, @taecube, dm comment or inbox to be added to my taglist!

"Peter? Peter! Peter Maximoff! Where are you going?!"

Outside of the venue, you called out to him, waiting by the road on his own, making sure to keep your voice down so as to not attract attention.

"Home," he said, not looking at you.

"I thought you were coming to m—"

"I'm not feeling well, sorry." Peter replied, kicking at the stones beneath his feet.

"I don't get it. You were just fine an hour ago. What happened?" You walked down towards him, crossing your arms over your chest. "I know you might not think the world of me, but I can at least listen."

"That's where you're wrong."

"Excuse me? If you knew how many times I had to listen to Jean blab on about Scott…”

“Not that. I'm sure you're a great listener... but you're wrong. I do think the world of you. I really do, Y/N.”

The silence was disarming, but Peter had said it. Not in the exact words, but close enough. He couldn't let it hang here.

“When we started this whole thing, I thought it'd just be for a joke. That I'd have all these mad horror stories about Y/N Y/L/N to tell my friends and maybe get a few free lunches off of it. But it didn't happen... well, apart from the free lunches. Those were the shit. But they weren't with this unattainable, emotionally unavailable asshole like I thought it would be. You're funny... charming... you're beautiful, obviously. You drive me absolutely crazy with some of the stuff you do but that's what makes hanging out with you even more fun. I loved seeing how our worlds would collide. But this... this is supposed to be the end of it. And if I take your guardian’s offer, or even if I just try to be friends after... it's not gonna be fun anymore. Because it's going to be knowing that I'll never have the chance to be with you, for real.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. Peter looked down. His hands were shaking. “That’s why I think we should say goodby—“

He couldn't get another word in edgewise before your lips collided with his, your lip gloss tasting sweet as your lips met in a passionate, long overdue embrace. Peter felt his heartbeat accelerate and his entire body tingled with sensations as he realized what was happening, before you released yourself delicately, looking deeply into his big brown eyes.

"I... I don't want to say goodbye, Pete."

"But I... but you..."

"I know. There's not exactly a good way to show someone you convinced to fake date you how you actually feel, but... it hasn't been just you. You're unlike any other boy I've ever been with. You're unpredictable, funny and out there... but that's what I love about you. I'm always banging on about structure and order, when really? The variety you've added to my life has made it so much more exciting and fast paced." She squinted as she saw his eyes mischievously light up. "And no, that's not a speed joke."

"Damn it!" Peter laughed.

"But... know that... no, it's not just you. So, if you'd really just like to go home after all this, I don't blame you. I'll give you all the space you need, but... I'm not washing my hands of you. I don't want to."

"So, you're breaking the agreement?"

You sighed, a smile on your face as you shook your head. "I'm breaking the agreement."

“I think this calls for a celebration!”

You chuckled. “And what exactly would that be?”

“Let me show you,” he said, this time his voice was more raspy, lower than usual, and it made your stomach somersault.

In a split second, Peter pulled you in by the chin and met you in a searing kiss. A blush all over his face, and you gladly reciprocated it, a warmth exchanged between you both in finally being beyond the terms of your agreement. And in another second, you were sitting in his lap on his bed down in his mom’s basement slash his bedroom, ball gown hiked up to your hips, lips still attached to his. Peter knew his speed would come in handy, and would also come in handy for locking the door so you would be away from prying eyes and ears. Cough, Wanda and his mom, cough.

His hands never left your hips, holding you closely to him, and once you pulled your lips away from his you looked back into his half lidded eyes; he looked so peaceful and sleepy, so you kissed him in the centre of his forehead and then both of his temples, his nose, his cheeks, his chin… But not his lips.

“Mmph, Y/N. Kiss me!”

“I did,” you chuckle.

“On the lips you dummy!”

“Nope.” You watched as he pouted, his eyes widening and rounding, looking up at you like a lost little puppy.

“Pleeease? I’ve gone so long waiting to kiss you!”

“But how am I meant to do anything in this huge ball gown? I left all my clothes at home. Would Wanda have anything?”

“Oh, uh… yeah… sure! Let me just go and ask my mom,” he said. “Since Wanda’s still at prom.”

He came back with a grey hoodie that had a tiny line of writing reading ‘bee-lieve in yourself and anything is possible’ with a small stitching of a cute bee beneath it, and a pair of shorts. Peter handed them to you and offered to help you out of your dress, which you accepted.

“Thank you so much, I can barely breathe!” You laugh, and he gets to work unzipping the back.

“I’ll stop when you tell me to, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything… I’ll just unzip your dress and then I’ll go and get changed too, in a different room, obviously.”

You stepped out of your dress as Peter unlocked the basement door and left the room to go change in the bathroom, leaving you alone in his room. You fought the sudden urge to snoop around his room, and quickly changed into the bee hoodie and black shorts. But you wanted to keep your heels on because you knew damn well that if you took them off now your feet would ache for days, and you didn’t want the pain to start right then.

When you were finished dressing, you sat back down on Peter’s bed, waiting for him to come back down into his room. He audibly gasped as he walked back into the room with a plate of cookies, almost dropping them to the ground upon seeing you.

The dress that had been covering your legs had now been ridden of, and we’re now exposed before him, and there was a look on his face that you had never seen before. You subconsciously began fiddling with the sleeve of the hoodie you borrowed as he set the cookies down on his dresser and he walked towards you.

You’d thrown your hair into a messy bun, and that added to the fact that you were wearing baggy clothes sent his mind into overdrive. His clothes were against your skin, and he could barely comprehend that.

“You could’ve asked me nicely and I’d strip for you, baby,” you said in a joking manner, but nothing in Peter’s expression read as being amused as he bit his lip.

“Really, peaches?” He asked, sitting down right next to you, your bare leg brushing against his. “And would you fuck me if I said please?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the air shifting around them. Peter got closer, leaning towards her and sliding one hand down the side of your body, brushing his thumb ever so slightly against your warm thigh. You could feel the familiar warmth climbing your skin as your heart pounded like crazy and you swallowed dry, feeling Peter’s breath against your neck as he planted kiss after kiss on it.

“You look so fucking beautiful wearing my things," he said, leaving a trail of kisses up your neck and jawline. "That hoodie looks so good on you. You can keep it if you want. Take all my clothes, they’ll all look better on you anyways."

“I thought it was Wan—”

And when he finally locked your lips with his, it was like the whole world had just disappeared and the room started to spin in slow motion. There were no teachers, no students, no ‘she did’ ‘he did’s, and no parents in that world that could make your world spin so fast yet so slow at the same time. Not when his tongue tasted heavily against yours, not when your nails scratched the back of Peter’s neck making him shiver with delight, not when his slow hand ran down your arm, all the way down to rest on your inner thigh, mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“You do not know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you, babe,” he muttered, his voice raspy as he continued to kiss up and down your neck, stopping at the pulse point to suck your skin into his mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together, trapping his right hand between your legs, arching your back, leaning your head back to give him more access to your neck. He mumbled something into your skin, moving to take your heels off, slowly, too slowly for your liking. Was this payback for when you didn’t kiss him? Maybe. Maybe not.

As you grabbed his t-shirt in your balled fists you began slowly lifting it up over his torso, arms and head. Piece by piece, each piece of clothing ended up strewn all around his bedroom, he would sort out the mess later but for now his attention is solely on you.

He flipped your positions so you were now sitting on the bed instead of his lap, and never did his lips leave yours. Peter trailed his kisses down your neck to your now exposed collarbone and you took his cock in your hand and began stroking him slowly through the fabric of his boxers.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, babe?” You asked, whispering softly into his ear, your breath hitching in your throat as did his. Already his breath was ragged, the temperature in the room heating up with every rapid rise and fall of your chests.

You could feel him nodding, and so that gave you permission to stroke him harder, listening to the soft moans eliciting from his throat, slicing through the quietness in the room like a knife. Peter climbed on top of you stopping your movements for a moment, kissing your lips once, finally, holding the spot on your thighs just below your ass to lift you at an angle.

“Peter, please I can’t take this anymore,” you whine, the sexual tension between the two of you becoming too much for either of you to handle.

A thought flickered in his mind and he gently lowering your back down onto his bed, the sheets brushing against your bare skin as he hooked his slender fingers into the band of your panties, slipping them down your legs, pressing soft kisses over your exposed skin with so much care as if you were a doll made from porcelain or ceramic.

You were everything his wet dreams had prepared him for; so warm and inviting, and yet your body felt cold to the touch.

He leapt off the bed and dashed out of the room before coming back a second later with a silver wrapper in his clenched fist. Some might think condoms are a mood killer, but so are babies, so Peter made sure he was always careful when having girls over.

“How long, Peaches? How long have you been waiting for this?” He says, voice low and dangerous, and if his voice got any more soft you thought you would pass out, or simply pass away at peace and utter bliss.

His breath is hot on your neck as you work on pulling down his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace, ridding them and throwing them… somewhere across the room. You didn’t know where, and that’s not what you were worried about for the moment.

You did the honours of rolling the rubber up his length, taking your sweet, precious time, chuckling as he groaned in frustration.

Peter lined himself up with your entrance, kissing you on the lips as he stroked himself firmly through the rubber, waiting for the right moment to slide himself between your legs, and when he did you couldn’t help but whimper his name under your breath. He rested his forehead against yours as you gradually took him all the way in. Every inch, every rapid pulse, every vein, every pump of blood worked to stretch your walls.

“So tight for me, peaches,” he moaned, voice breathy, and you swore to yourself that you never heard a sound so beautiful in your life before this moment. He hovered above you for some time as you adjusted to his size.

“Please, baby,” you pant, giving him permission to start moving, but he didn't. “Peter…”

“I uh… I don’t like how we’re doing this, Y/N,” he began, his voice shaking as he asked, “Can you be on top?”

His heart pounds in his chest, he hated the fact that he was a bottom, but that would all change tonight. He lay down beside you and you took this as your sign to straddle his hips, pushing yourself back down onto him.

You held onto the headrest and slowly began lifting your hips up and down, taking his cock almost out and then back in again while watching his eyes roll into the back of his skull from the pleasure.

The image beneath you was breathtaking; his silver locs splayed out over his pillow, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your movements, his hands taking a loose grip on your waist, and his soft whimpers. “Fuck,” he moaned, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. “That’s it, just like that peaches.”

Tiny bolts of electricity began shooting through your body as you rode him faster, picking up your pace as he writhed under you, becoming a whiny moaning mess beneath you. His cock brushed along your sweet spot, causing the breath to hitch in your chest.

Peter’s hips bucked up against yours, stretching your walls that little bit more, making you cry out his name. You leaned forward, almost against his chest, to move the sweaty hair from his forehead, and then he thrusted up into you again.

“Holy fuck- do that again!”

He sat up in the bed, wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close to himself as he could, as he thrusted up into you. You weaved your fingers into his soft hair, tugging lightly, but hard enough to cause a moan to escape from his parted lips.

Peter wanted to make himself last, so he tried distracting himself by driving his cock into you quickly, faster, his grunts matching his rhythm as he erratically slammed his hips up into yours. He kept an arm around your waist and wrapped his fingers of his free hand around the back of your neck, holding you still as he fucked you from below.

You buried your face in his neck as he picked up his pace, and with your face buried in his neck he could hear every angelic sound that escaped your throat.

“Oh my god… Please, I’m right there! I’m—”

Your pussy spasmed around his cock, milking him as he slowed down his thrusts as he came with you, his whimpers quieting and dying in your hair as you both came down from your high. Panting, you both slowly caught your breath back, chests heaving, caressing each other’s skin, Peter’s thumb brushing your cheek.

“I… I think I’m in love with you,” you whispered, your cheek still pressed against his warm, slightly clammy shoulder. You couldn’t believe you just admitted that in front of him, but you’d already said it and it could never be taken back. “I— I love you, Peter Maximoff.”

“And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N,” he found your hand and held it tight for a moment, before extracting from the embrace (though he didn’t want to, he never wanted to let you go), getting up from the bed. His insides were intensely screaming and cheering for him, over the moon that you said that, thanking the heavens that you felt the same way.

His eyes glazed over as he went to grab a towel to clean up before his mom would come down and see what had happened—Peter was pretty sure she heard what happened so it wouldn’t make any difference if his bed was a mess or not. He wiped beneath his eyes, his back to you so you couldn’t see what was happening, and sniffed his tears back in. Or so he thought.

As he walked back into the room with the towel in his hand all he could see was you, sitting on the edge of his bed with his bee hoodie and shorts back on. Your heart felt heavy as you watched his movements as he cleaned up, insisting he did it since it was his bed, sniffling a little.

“Are you okay, babe?” You asked, and he nodded wordlessly answering your question, but not a second later the tears started again and you ran to throw your arms around his waist.

“I just… Why me? You’re an amazing, beautiful woman and I’m… well… me. And don’t girls like guys who do it on top?”

“Peter, look at me,” you encouraged, standing on your tiptoes to be as level to his height as you could.

“You,” you started, pressing your index finger against the centre of his chest twice, “are perfect to me. All of your small insecurities are valid but I don’t see them! I wouldn’t have this relationship any other way, and I don’t wanna be with anyone else. Stop doubting yourself!”

The smile on your face was contagious, infectious, making Peter grin back at you brighter than ever before. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, holding his waist tighter as you felt your knees weaken a little, playing with the hem of his shirt to distract yourself, though you wouldn’t need that distraction moments later.

Lost in each other’s gazes you smiled at each other, taking in this precious moment and sealing it inside your hearts forever. Peter wrapped his arms around you, sniffling from his recent tears, one lone tear falling down his cheek. You raised your hand up to his face and gently caught the tear on your thumb, wiping away any insecurity he had with it. And though that tear was alone, Peter was not, and neither were you.

The world around the two of you faded away as Peter’s lips caught yours into another sweet kiss, your love for one another blooming all around like daffodils in springtime along with your relationship, which blossomed into something truly beautiful.

#peter maximoff #xmen #evan peters quicksilver #quicksilver #quicksilver x fem!reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x fem!reader #peter maximoff fluff #fluff #xmen x reader #xmen fluff #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver fluff

[fandomnerd9602]

Pietro: where have you been?

Wanda and Y/N, their hair total messes, look to one another...

Wanda: nowhere

Y/N: out...uh...nowhere

Pietro: well which is it?

Wanda: out nowhere.

Pietro: sestra you haven't responded to Vis' date request

Y/N: I read her answer loud and clear-

Wanda ribs Y/N...

Wanda: I'm just not interested in Vis.

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel incorrect quotes #mcu fandom #incorrect marvel quotes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff incorrect quotes #the scarlet witch #pietro maximoff #quicksilver

[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

[bluerthanvelvet444]

ᯓ★⋆˚🅰🅿🆁🅸🅲🅸🆃🆈⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)

tags: smut with plot and a bit of fluff in the end.

warnings: subby!Peter, restraints, handjob, fingering, riding, p in v, denied orgasm, praise, mentions of abuse, mentions of alcohol, mentions of fight, swearing.

summary: Peter gets captured by the villains. This fic takes place after x-men apocalypse and before x-men dark phoenix.

character count: 19k.

full fic under the cut ↓

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Memoir. What’s its provenance? What is it?

According to scientists, memories are “formed as a result of connections between neurons in the brain”. The poet Sylvia Plath, instead, “sardonically embraced the most horrific and vulgar fragments from the storehouse of collective memory”. The great philosopher Aristotle believed that “memory is like a writing that remains etched in wax, and whose inscriptions remain more or less durable”.

Although you continually researched and seeked in books for the perfect depiction, you weren’t able to find anything that could comply with your personal belief. You were staunch that memories are, in fact, the mirror of our being. Disgraceful memories, glorious ones…they’re both needed to construct the way we act, the way we think, and the way we are. You had always been involved in memoir personally, because of your quirk. You had the marvelous capacity of intruding into one’s memories. You couldn’t directly change or interact with them, instead, you could see, reproduce, assimilate and mimic them. Phenomenal, isn’t it? You may think it is but, your biggest gift to you was, in fact, your biggest ruin. Your life started its downgrade the exact moment you found out about it. You remembered it all.

You were standing small in front of your mother, who had either fallen asleep or passed out. The bottle of cheap tequila in her hands made both answers valid. You were just a kid but you knew it wasn’t easy. Your father had left when you were just a fetus in your mother’s womb. Since then, she had never been the same. All the bills, the rent, expenses were on her. Her job exhausted her and the little time she had left, she spent drowning her worries in alcohol. She didn’t need any more problems, so you never told her about that awkward energy growing inside of you. That particular day you felt it bigger than ever, the need to find out what it led to even stronger. So you put your tiny fingers on her temples, as the little voice in your head told you to, and you started seeing. All of your mother's life was flashing in front of your eyes quickly. You stopped at one particular memory, you inspected it. Your mother stood pregnant in front of a man that kept yelling at her. You put the pieces of the puzzles together. It was clear, and the new knowledge of the situation triggered something inside of you, inside of your power. You kept replaying and replaying the scene, tears in your eyes, as the man’s words dissolved from the memory and came directly out of your mouth. That woke your mother up, she was holding her head as the same image kept banging in her mind, and as the man’s voice spit those known words harshly from your little mouth. She yelled for you to stop, and you lowkey wish you never did. As soon as you stopped, she grabbed you and threw you inside of-what you playfully called-the dark room, your basement.

“I-I’m sorry…I can’t-you’re him…I-I see him-” Her words came out broken from her mouth, her sobs stopping her mid-sentence as she locked you inside.

That became a habit since then. You grew up in the “dark room”, hardly ever going outside if not to eat and respond to natural calls. Your main activity was watching TV and day-dreaming about the outside world. You knew it was better than what you were living, it had to be. Especially because you found out that you weren’t crazy or evil but that you simply belonged to a different species. They called them mutants.And apparently, there was a school for kids just like you, the interviews of the famous Charles Xavier were the ones you liked watching the most on TV. As the years went by, your urge to run away grew more and more, and so you did. One day in the early 70s, you grabbed all of your things and left, taking advantage of your mom’s blackout. You took different taxis and avoided the questions about your young age, and you were finally standing in front of Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Although, it seemed different from what you saw on TV: it looked abandoned, the plate with the name on it rusty and absentmindedly resting on the ground, and the gates closed. You tried peeking inside, before being startled by an unfamiliar voice behind you.

“Don’t waste your time. They can’t help you anymore, but we can.”

This is how you found yourself with a group of mutants who had the exact same hopes you had, before they were broken by the closure of the school. You were guided by The Captain-that is how he wanted to be called-that was trying to create a new safe place for young mutants. And his plan seemed to work, kid mutants were actually starting to come…before Xavier’s school opened again. At this point, your group desperately found itself in front of the school’s gate again. You were dismissed,though, by a blue beast mutant.

“We’re sorry, the school only accepts young kids between 5 and 17-” He told you before turning his back.

“You can try and talk to Charles though, I’m sure he will find some space for y-'' He stopped seeing you had all left.

This is why The Captain’s plan was ever created in the first place. He believed that Charles Xavier was a man only drawn by his personal needs, and that he only used the young mutants to gain popularity and be idolized by the US government.

“This is why we were rejected. Our powers aren’t conventionally pleasing. No human kid would ever desire our powers. So if he believes our gifts can’t be used for good, we won’t use them for good.” He spoke firmly to you all.

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Your flow of memories was interrupted by The Captain.

“We’ve captured one. You will watch him while we take care of the others. Do your thing on him and find out his weakness.” He spoke with a deep voice.

You nodded and began making your way downstairs before he gripped your wrist.

“Don’t disappoint me, Y/N.” You felt his piercing gaze in your eyes.

“I won’t.” You gulped and quickly left the room.

When you opened the door you scanned your surroundings. The room was all white, with petty furniture. No windows, a table, a chair, a small closet, and a bed which had a figure laying down on it. You inched closer and scanned the boy. His eyes closed, he was probably knocked out, a few bruises on his skin, his hands and legs restrained by the strong collars around them… he looked your age, his hair was silver with some goggles resting on them. He had a pleasant face to look at, if the circumstances had been different you could’ve even admitted that he was pretty attractive. He was wearing a black protective suit, probably X-men’s equipment, you guessed. The more you observed him, the more you were confused. You expected them to capture the great Mystique, the glorious Magneto…not a newbie. You sighed and started walking towards the desk, ramaging in your bag for a sleeping pill so that you could do your magic without being interrupted.

Peter slowly opened his eyes, he could feel his body sore from the previous fight. He started to panic as he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He tilted his head forwards, noticing the person standing in front of the desk.

“H-hey…! Ppsttttt…Lady! Yes! You! Lady!” You heard his desperate calls.

You walked towards him and stopped at the side of the bed.

“Hi! So there’s a bunch of bad people who captured me and probably want to beat my ass-” You stopped him mid-sentence.

“I know.” You replied with a monotone voice.

“You-you know?! Don’t tell me you’re one of ‘em- oh shit! You’re one of ‘em! C’mon you have to be kiddin’ me…you’re too pretty to be mean! Hey! C’mon help me!” He rushed, his hands and legs squirming at high speeds against the restraints. You didn’t budge at his compliment, instead, you were focused on his movements.

“A speedster, huh.” You mumbled.

“A speed…A speedster?! Babe I'm not a speedster- I’m the speedster! Quicksilver! Peter Maximoff! The one and only!” He replied cockily, almost as if he was offended by your lack of knowledge. You raised your eyebrow, clearly having no clue of who he was.

“Aah babe you’ve got to be kiddin’ me! I’m Quicksilver! The one who beated Apocalypse’s ass! I did it all myself heh- I’m basically a hero, everyone loves me. Don’t ya watch TV or what?” Even though you had no idea who this guy was and what he did to be part of the X-men, you could sense the exaggeration in his words.

“I prefer books.” You shrugged before turning your back and making your way to the desk again.

“Hey! Hey! Where ya goin’?! Are ya a mutant too? Hey, yer not gonna hurt me aren’t ya?! What’s your power? C’mon tell me…What’s your power? Whaddaya do?!”

You rolled your eyes as his continuous questions started to annoy you.

“Will you shut up and let me do what I need to do?!” You snapped while holding between your thumb and index the sleeping pill. His pupils dilated.

“Whoa-whoa…let’s chill down a bit, yea? No need to use that, babe. Ya just gotta ask and I'll do whatever you want me to do.” He said with a smirk forming on his face. You sighed.

“Close your eyes and stay still.” You began pressing your fingers against his temples.

“...Will it hurt?” He said with a nervous smile, big brown eyes looking up at you.

“It doesn’t have to.”

Just like that you were thrown into Peter’s memories. You saw his child self, his mom, his sister…his first time using his powers…Magneto…many memories about Magneto, weird. You decided to dig a little deeper. You replayed the memory where he found out that…

“Magneto is your father?!” You exclaimed, visibly surprised.

“Hehe, I guess…so that’s your power?” He said with a tiny chuckle.

You kept thinking about what you just saw. You never saw a direct contact between Peter and Magneto, so you supposed he didn’t know about his son. That could’ve easily been used against him, you had to tell The Captain. You walked towards the table and gathered your bag.

“That’s a cool power…I’ve never heard ‘bout it. Actually, I’ve never heard ‘bout ya either…do ya have a supervillain name? Why didn’t ya fight with the others?” The words fell rapidly out of his lips. You gulped.

“Just Y/N. I don’t fight with the others. My powers weren’t made for physical combat.” That’s true, they hardly ever let you come with them on missions. You were useless for superheroes as much as you were for supervillains.

“Pffffttt…that’s bullshit! Ya can do those cool things with yer mind! Ya totally have to meet Charles, he’s gott-”

“Charles? Charles’s a selfish man who puts his needs first. I don’t want anything from him.” You scoffed.

“Wha-what? Are ya out of yer mind? Have ya ever even met Charles? He’s the coolest. I was literally a loser who lived in his mom’s basement before meeting him. Always been cool though.” His words made your blood boil, hearing that he didn’t hesitate to help him but discarded you immediately. You told Peter your story, how you truly believed Charles was gonna save you but ended up breaking your inner child’s heart. Your eyes started to water as memories flooded in front of your eyes.

“Hey-I-I’m sorry that happened to ya but- hey- if I get outta here alive, I promise I will take you to the school. The professor will help ya, he always does.” You looked at him, a tiny glimmer of hope appearing in your eyes even though you knew that you couldn’t leave.

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You spent all your day talking to him. He was funny, you had to admit. The nicest company you had ever had. He told you about his family, how he joined the X-men, everything. And before you knew it, the night came.

“Oh uhm. You should get some sleep, you’re probably exhausted.” You said while getting up, ready to leave.

“Wait- uhhh…I can’t really sleep with this armor thingy on. It’s uncomfy.” He complained.

“Oh. Right, I can bring you some clothes. But I…can’t untie you. It’s the rules.” You shrugged.

“No need to. I usually sleep naked.” He winked at you.

“...” You contorted your face, not really knowing how to respond.

“HA! Gotcha. Just kidding. I sleep in my boxers.” He said with a proud grin on his lips.

“...I’ll bring you clothes.” You said before being interrupted again.

“No! Seriously, I just need to take my clothes off.”

You raised your eyebrow.

“...Not because I’m a creep. Simply because my speed speeds my body’s functions, and by speeding it highs my temperature so I get hot.” He spoke as if it was obvious.

“...Right.” You sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

“How does this thing open?”

“W-whoa whoa…you-are you gonn- wait-” He stuttered as his cheeks slightly reddened.

“You said you wanted your clothes off, and I’m not gonna risk getting scolded by The Captain by freeing you.” You sighed. He gulped and pointed where his zipper was.

C’mon Peter…ya can do this, buddy. Ya just need to focus, yea? Don’t let a fine chick undressing ya speed yer speedy hormones, mh? Peter thought to himself. Your hands gripped the zipper and started pulling it down. Stay focused soldier. His broad chest was revealed as you slowly undressed him. You stopped at his abs to hop on the bed and take his shoes off. As you leaned to pull his boots, your arm slightly brushed his crotch. Holy fucking mother of all the fucking mutants, fuck. She barely touched ya and yer already growing hard, Peter? Must be tha speedy genes, yea, has to be. Totally not has nothing to do with ya being a virgin in your 20s. Nuh-uh. Goddamn you, Peter!

You threw his shoes on the floor, and started pulling his suit down again. You let your gaze linger as he was half-naked in front of you. He was wearing boxers with lightning bolts on them, a tiny chuckle escaped your mouth at that.

“Someone’s excited.” You said with a playful grin on your lips as you pointed at the prominent bulge in his boxers.

“Hey! Not my fault ya got all handsy- how did ya expect me to react?” He said with a tiny blush on his cheeks, he was so cute.

“...And it’s the speedster genes, by tha way. They call me Quickie for a reason.” He replied, annoyed because of how embarrassed he got.

“Do you need help?” You suggested. It may have been wrong, since you were “enemies” and you barely knew each other but…when are you gonna have another cute speedster all for you again?

“DoIneedawhat-” He blurted out, not believing what he just heard.

Your lips curled up in a smirk, and before he could process anything, your fingers grazed his crotch through his underwear.

“Oh- fuck- yea…yes-” He moaned, you giggled.

“So eager, mh?” You teased him by pulling his waistband up and then leaving it smack against his skin. He groaned and nodded, he was so worked up by nothing. You undressed him of his boxers too, his shaft springing free against his stomach, leaving him naked on the bed. His hips bucked up in search of friction. You grinned and gently took his dick in your hand, slowly pumping it.

“Aaah…f-f-yes…please…faster…” He whined.

You giggled and leaned in to kiss his lips gently, muffling his pleas. You started speeding your movements, and he deepened the kiss as his moans rolled off his tongue. As you made out, you could hear the sound of his hands desperately squirming against the restraints.

“Please…let me touch you…” He whimpered, big puppy eyes gazing up at you.

“Mh…sorry, can’t do, baby. It’s the rules.” You smirked and leaned in to peck his lips again. You stopped and sat up to pull off your shirt. He groaned at the sight. You took him in your hands again and fasted your pace even more.

“O-oh..f-fuck...gonna…gonna cum babe…c-cant hold it in…ahh..” You giggled and sped up even more, your mouth working hungrily against his, eating up his moans. He came with a loud groan, muffled by your lips. He kept whining after that.

“Pleasepleaseplease…wanna please ya too…lemme…I’m good at it- I promise…I’m basically a human vibrator-long lasting rose toy- please…” You giggled and nodded, pecking his lips. You took off your pants, before untying one of his hands. He groaned and immediately pulled you closer, his hand making its way under your panties. He suppressed a moan by biting his lip as he felt your slick with his fingers. He gently started circling your clit, and after he heard a few moans of confirmation from you, he began buzzing his fingers against it.

“Ooh…f-fuck…just like that, baby, don’t stop…” You moaned, he answered with a cute whine. He looked up at you, his middle finger gently pushing at your entrance, not fully sliding in. You nodded and bit your lip to suppress any more unholy sound coming out of you as his fingers started to fuck you slowly.

“F-fuck…” You threw your head back. He was gazing up at you with parted lips, as if he had never seen something so breathtaking. He kept picking up the pace, until you stopped his wrist and tied it up again.

“Wha-Wait-Why..? Y-you didn’t like it?” He said with his silver brows furrowed, he was lost and scared of what your answer could’ve been.

“Oh, it was fucking awesome, baby. But I wanna use something else to come, yea? Will you let me do that?” You said in a cooing voice, clearly driving his mind crazy.

“Mhm…yesplease…” He nodded, his gaze not daring to leave your body.

You undid your bra, his eyes widening, and straddled his hips. Your entrance just above his cock. He groaned at the sight, his shaft fully hardening again. You smiled and slowly sinked in, until your hips met his.

“Aaah…w-warm…so warm n’tight…mppph…” He moaned loudly.

You grinned and started slowly sliding your hips up and down repeatedly, reaching a stable pace. You moaned as you started speeding up, yet it wasn’t enough to satisfy you fully.

“Mhh…baby…mind helping me a little?” You said looking down at him.

He moaned and nodded. He started superspeeding his hips to meet yours as you bounced on his cock. The new sensation making you moan loudly.

“Ohhh! Fuck! Just like that, baby…such a good boy…” You groaned as you felt yourself closer. He let out a tiny whimper as he heard your praise and kept speeding up, his wrists and legs straining against the collars, forming tiny red lines.

“Fuckfuckfuck…can i cum? P-please-ah…?” He whined.

“Mhhh...not yet- baby…let me finish first…” You smirked.

He groaned and sped up even more, trying desperately to bring you to the edge. He hissed as he felt that knot in his stomach urging to snap. It didn’t take much for you to come undone. You cried out as you were still jumping up and down at lightning speed. As soon as he felt you clenching around him, he moaned loudly, as he was just about to cum. You quickly pulled him out of you and allowed him to spatter his fluid on your body. He panted heavily, droplets of sweat sinking from his forehead to the mattress. You waited a few moments before grabbing a towel and cleaning you both. You laid down on the bed with him, moving his head on your chest as you ran your fingers in his silver locks, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

“You're my apricity.” You said while caressing his hair and pecking his temple. His eyes were closed, and he was clearly drifting off to sleep.

“Mh?” He mumbled, not moving one single part of his body, still restrained.

“Apricity. I read that in a book.” You chuckled.

“In simpler words?” He mumbled.

“The warmth of the sun in winter.”

“In even simpler words?” He muttered, his voice coming muffled by your chest.

“My life is the winter, you are the warmth.” You admitted. He didn't answer to that. You weren't sure if he actually understood the concept or even just your words, but one thing you were a hundred percent sure of.

He fell asleep smiling.

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taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87

a/n: raaaahh!!! I'm honestly so proud of this, the fic came out just like i imagined. Anyways, hope you like it, love you all🤍🤍

join my taglist!!

all rights reserved.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #smut #fluff #x men #x men apocalypse #quicksilver #evan peters #american horror story #tate langdon #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #kyle spencer #violet harmon #james patrick march #kai anderson #taissa farmiga #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs coven #sarah paulson #lily rabe

[icannot3]

"Holidaze"

(Peter Maximoff x Reader)

Word count:4.3k

Warnings: Smut with a LOT of plot below. Mutual pining. Female reader. Oral (f receiving), riding. So much sap it makes your teeth rot because I'm an unapologetically corny mf.

.......

The snow gently falls to the ground with a sense of elegance you find yourself encaptured with. Today has made for the perfect white Christmas as a hefty coating of fluffy snowfall stretches for as far as you can see. Your window is rather small, perfect for the modestly sized room you have in the X-mansion. The festivities around this time of year always excite you. Lights of every color illuminate your room in contrast with the dark night air from outside. Unfortunately, the weather hindered you from visiting any family, as they too were trapped in the security of their own homes. Nevertheless, your day was still rather enjoyable.

A knock at your door pulls you out of your relaxed state. It's already rather late, and the day is nearly over. Visitors at this trifling hour are typically frowned upon by Charles. Although you're a teacher, he always claims that it sets a "bad example" for the students. Luckily for your visitor, rules are only flexible guidelines in your eyes. You open the door and to your delight it's Peter.

His hands are behind his back, and he grins mischievously. Peter's balance switches as he moves back and forth on his heel, unable to contain his insurmountable joy. You already have a suspicion for what he's about to do. Perhaps the reason is because of the noticeable glittery bag he has in his hands that he is blatantly failing at hiding. You laugh at his antics, allowing him to come inside.

"Thanks, babe." Peter takes no time in allowing himself to get comfortable. After handing you your gift, he lazily flops down into your loveseat, right next to the tree. He props his feet up in a flash and stretches out comfortably.

This was nothing out of the normal for the two of you. Peter would often drop by just to keep you company. He himself bought the very couch he sits on just for that reason. Or at least you'd like to assume he bought it with his own hard-earned money. Chances are that he snatched it from a display window. Not that you felt bad for the greedy corporation he likely took it from. Peter would never steal from a small business, which truly was all you believed mattered. Peter grabs a sucker from his pocket, one of the ones you stuffed his stocking with earlier in the day. "I told ya' I got you a present, I just left it in my room."

You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning. "You're so full of it, I bet whatever is in this bag you got today." You begin to take out the red paper at the top, taking a seat on your bed. "But thank you regardless. This is sweet." There's a few filler candies, all notably your favorites that he's observed through the past couple of years you've known him. Your final gift is at the bottom, wrapped sloppily in perfect Peter fashion. There's multiple layers of paper wound around the small box, one of his trademarks he does every year to mess with you. You've counted five so far before there's a layer made entirely of ducktape. With that, you dramatically sigh and glare at him from your seat.

Peter cackles at your aggravation, offering absolutely no assistance. It doesn't help that your nails are short and give you no leverage in peeling the material away. After lots of triumph, the final layer is torn away at your desperate hands. A black jewelry box is revealed. Peter raises from his spot, standing in front of you. "I promise it's worth it."

He bites into his sucker impatiently, which makes a loud crunching noise that makes you cringe. Then, he places the stick back in his pocket. His eyes are locked on you, awaiting your reaction. The anticipation had nearly killed you already. Your thumb quickly pops off the top of the box to reveal whatever is inside.

It's a beautiful necklace, one that suits your style perfectly. It has sparkling diamond chippings shaped in the form of an infinity symbol. You gasp in awe at how thoughtful of a gift this is, especially from Peter. In the past, he'd never gotten you anything so sentimental. Granted, his gifts are always delightful, but this one in particular leaves you dumbfounded. The DVDs you'd gifted him earlier that day suddenly felt underwhelming in comparison.

"You like it?" Peter inquires. "It's because we're gonna be friends forever. Try putting it on." He gestures at the piece. For only a moment, you wonder if this is truly an act of simply friendship. A part of you hopes there's something more. But Peter remains nonchalant, acting as if this gift is casual. Shoving your feelings inside, you take the necklace out of the box and fidget with the hook.

Peter gently takes it from your hands. "Don't want ya' dropping it, aye? Am I the greatest gift finder or what?" He instructs you to turn around. You can hardly find yourself the will to deny him. His fingers tease the sensitive back of your neck as he fiddles with the chain. It sends a shiver down your spine. Your silence seems to worry your friend. Once Peter attaches the necklace together, he taps your shoulder. "You alright, bud?"

You swallow, turning around quickly to face him. "Oh! Yeah, totally. This was just so thoughtful of you, Peter. Seriously. How did you even come up with this?" You hope he doesn't notice the shakiness in your tone. Suddenly, rather riled up, you find it hard to sit still and speak to him.

He offers a grin you find assuring, his big brown eyes looking into yours. "Ah well, you know. I happened to be passing by this suuuper large jewelry place. I'm talking three stories alone were dedicated to just bracelets. And I thought, 'I know someone who wears this stuff all of the time!' So I walked in, saw it, and thought it was totally you!" Peter expressively talks with his hands, insisting on gesturing how large this place was by stretching his arms out as far as possible. His hand bumps your shoulder, leaving you laughing at his dramatics.

He stands up from your bed, which makes you feel rather upset at the now lack of closeness. "Anyways, it is getting kinda late. I guess I'll let ya' sleep. I heard from Raven that Hank is gonna be putting us to work during training tomorrow since we didn't do anything today." He slides by the door. You groan with frustration. No part of you doubts that statement. Peter nods his head in agreement, his eyebrows raising. "Oh, yeah, one final thing!"

You look at him, giving all of your attention. He turns the door knob getting ready to exit. "I figured, since neither of us really has anyone to be with for the New Years Party, that it might be cool if we kiss at midnight? You know, just cause' were pals, and it would be weird kissing anyone else. I mean, Jean has Scott, Raven and Hank will obviously go for one another like last year. And I trust that you don't wanna kiss Charles anytime soon. So it would probably be best for you and me to do it, that is if you're down?"

This leaves you stunned to silence, face red hot from the proposition. Your mouth is wide open, and you try to speak, but only a few incoherent noises come out. Peter throws his head back, laughing. "Don't stress, bud. I'll leave you to think about it. Later!" Without another moment to spare, he zips away.

Sleep doesn't come easily that night. Nor does it for the next six days at the thought of Peter suggesting kissing you.

New Years Day comes all too soon. The topic had not resurfaced since Christmas night. You'd thought about it daily. The topic had made you an absolute wreck, and Peter seemed truly unbothered. Everything had to be perfect. You spent nearly two hours preparing. From doing your hair to ensuring your lipstick went on just right. You chose a flattering black dress that did marvels for your curves.

It only made sense that at the beginning of the party, you'd taken a few shots of liquid courage to prepare you for what was to come. There isn't enough in your system to leave you incompetent, just to make your doubts feel a little lighter. Everyone gives you a kind word when you enter the room. Ororo is the first to shoot you a wink and compliment your outfit. You curiously scan the room, looking for your best friend that you did all of this for. Unable to spot him, you waltz over to the punch bowl. Whoever made it put edible glitter in the mix, which you found rather charming. There was also an array of different finger sandwiches, a cheese plate, fruits, and other mouth-watering treats you couldn't deny yourself from. Grabbing the largest plate available, you pick your fair share of what is there to offer. Loading the last small cookie onto your plate at the end of the line, you turn around only to jump at the sight of Peter right in front of you.

He catches your tray that slips out of your grasp for you expectantly. "Woah there, wouldn't wanna lose all of the snacks I prepared." He hands you back your plate graciously. "I'm glad someone wants them." Peter's eyes check out what's on your plate, scanning the items before taking a sandwich off it. You frown in disapproval as he takes a bite. "Hey! Get your own." You jokingly scold him. His hand cups his ear as he leans forward, acting as if he can not hear you. The sandwich is gone in three bites at his mercy. He guides you away from the snack station, pulling you to the side.

"Hey, I just wanted to talk to you about the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable at all. I'm sorry if what I said made you feel kinda creeped out. I promise that by me asking that I didn't wanna -" Quickly you object the rest of his sentence, shaking your head no at his apology. To silence him, you take a cookie off your plate and shove it into his mouth. His eyes grow wide when you do, but he takes bite and allows you to speak.

"No! I agree. You were right. It only makes sense that we kiss. No hard feelings at all!" You stammer with your words, the composure from earlier slipping away as you begin to already sober up.

Peter sighs with relief, putting his hand to his chest. "Good, I was getting a little worried. I guess we should get ready then. The countdown is about to start." He throws away the remaining scraps of your treats and leads you to the TV screen broadcasting the ball drop.

There's five minutes on the clock still, which gives you only a few moments to prepare. When Peter looks away, you check to make sure your breath smells fine. You hope he doesn't take too much notice of it. Adjusting your hair, you make sure all knots are untangled. There's a lingering thought that wonders what he'll do while he kisses you. Will he run his hand through your hair? Or will he pull you in by the waist? Your nerves begin to heighten when you remember how long it's been since you kissed someone last. What if you'd forgotten how to do it right, and it just makes the entire experience awkward? Peter is encaptured by the screen in front of him and takes no notice of your frenzied panic. There's thirty seconds on the clock now. You can hear your heart beating in your chest when everyone around you begins to count down.

15...

Surely there's no way he'd judge you? He's your best friend. If the kiss goes badly, the two of you could just make a huge joke out of it, and it won't be an issue.

10...

Peter finally turns to face you, grinning. Your doubts still ramble on. What if it is a big deal and he actually likes you, and every chance of the two of you getting together is ruined by this one single moment?

5...

Peter pulls a festive paper hat with polkadots and streamers on it out of his pocket and places it on top of your head. There's a soft look in his eyes as he adjusts the string comfortably underneath your chin. Finally, your final doubts flow into the idea that this kiss could make your relationship more than just a friendship. You question everything leading up to this moment and think about the fact that there is a chance that Peter may truly love you in the same way.

The ball finally reaches the ground, and everyone cheers around you. There's no thinking allowed now, only action. Peter cheers with the others, blowing into his party horn before finally leaning in.

He places his hand underneath your chin delicately in order to tilt your face up to his. His free arm pulls you in closely. Like the fireworks being set off right outside, his lips ignite you with overwhelming emotions. He's soft with his kiss, sucking your lip with a sense tenderness you could only dream of receiving. You return it to the best of your ability, melting your lips with his in harmony. His nose brushes against your own as he pulls away, leaving you breathless.

It ends all too soon. You desperately crave for more and wish more than anything that he would pull you back into his arms and kiss you again. But instead of voicing this, you cheer giddily. Grabbing his obnoxiously loud party horn, you blow into it as well.

You look around at everyone else in the room who seemingly are also enjoying the party. This is because you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, or else you'll become a mess. Peter was right on the money, predicting all of the couples that would be kissing at midnight. Hank and Raven are secluded in the corner, sharing a glass of wine. Scott and Jane laugh together by the fire before he pulls her in again. Erik and Charles sit together as if nothing had happened and continue their chess match like normal. It's a wonderful sight to see that fills you with joy.

That is, until there's a sudden blur of colors as you can feel yourself fly in the air. You're brought back to your room, coming to an abrupt stop. Peter clutches your shoulders with his hands, looking your face over a dozen times. Your brow raises in confusion. "Peter, why did you take me here? Are you alright?" He only shakes his head, mumbling something under his breath you can't make out. "What? I can't hear you."

He meets your eyes, trailing his hand down your back. "I can't - I mean, I just." He inhales sharply. "Please just stop me if you don't want this." Before you can even respond, his lips meet yours once again. They're just as soft as before, transcending you to a greater state of mind. Each one of his kisses pulls you in more. It's only when you need to breathe that he pauses for a second. He pants, leaving you equally as spent.

You trail your hand up and push his silver locs to the side in order to get a better view of his face. "I didn't actually care about having someone to kiss tonight. I just wanted an excuse for it to be you." Peter gently pecks your lips. "I didn't just come across a jewelry store and randomly think about getting you something there, I thought about it months in advance." He traces his finger across your lips. "I'm really really sorry if you think all of this is too much. I know I've been really pushy with this, but you just kissed me back. I feel like if you didn't sorta kinda feel the same way, you wouldn't do that. I'm not trying to force you into anything you don't want, and if this is not it, then your words the way and I will skedaddle."

Peter points his thumb in a backward motion, clicking his tongue. "But if you also want this, and there is some formidable God out there that has granted me the honor of having someone like you like me, I promise I'll make sure you don't regret it for a single second." He presses his hands to his sides as if he's scared of breaking you with his touch.

You can't find the words to describe how you feel. It's far too overwhelming to try. Instead, you crash your lips into his, never wanting to break away again. Peter wastes no time in grabbing you by the hips. You wrap your arms fully around his neck, allowing him to consume you for all you're worth. You lead him back to your bed as his kisses trail down your neck. The sensation of his hand coming up your thigh is so delightful that it makes you want to scream. All of this time that you've longed for him has made you sensitive to his touch. You tug at his jacket, which he gladly removes at your request.

Finally, he lays you across the bed. This allows you to wrap your legs around his waist eagerly. "Fuck, you've gotta be careful with that babe. It's hard to control myself when you make it so damn hard." Peter runs his hand through your hair delicately. "I don't want this to be just a one-time thing. I really care about ya." You can feel your eyes gloss over ever so slightly at his loving words. Your head nods in agreement. "I know, I'd love to be a real thing with you. I've liked you for a long time." Confidence has finally made its way back into your body, allowing you to freely speak. "Please kiss me."

Peter flashes you a cheesy grin. "Yes, ma'am!" His hands trail up and down your body in ways you'd never felt before while he kisses you. They trail down your back and across your rear imploringly. His thick finger slips underneath the strap of your dress, tugging it down your shoulder. He freezes, resting his forehead against your own. "Is this okay?"

You nod fervently, begging for his touch. He begins, moving the sleeves expertly off your arms before pausing yet again. "You sure?" He's teasing you now, and it's driving you insane. You can tell by the smirk you can feel against your neck. You smack him on his arm without doing any harm to get your point across. Peter lets out a deep chuckle and continues to pull your dress down, eventually discarding it on the floor.

You're eager to touch him. Tentatively, you trail your fingers down to the zipper of his jeans. You can feel his hard on and slightly squeeze, which makes him gasp at the contact. Imploringly, you continue, unbuttoning his jeans. Peter's hand reaches down to grab yours. He intertwines his fingers with you. "Hey there, eager beaver. I'm not finished with just you yet." His kisses sloppily start at your chest, right between the mount between your breasts. Your bra is very quickly discarded, which Peter shows clear delight about. His eyes light up at the sight of you, almost bear beneath him. "You're really beautiful, babe. Do you know that? I'd hope you do."

He rolls a nipple between his fingers, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. You're blushing more at the fact that Peter just called your beautiful more than him seeing you naked. You gasp when Peter's hand cups your clothed cunt, still not yet breaking that boundry. Your thighs squeeze together in anticipation, holding him there.

Peter curses under his breath, moving his kisses down your body to your lower abdomen. His finger loops under the delicate lace as he finally reveals all of yourself to him. You're elated to see his cheesy grin as he gawks at the sight, staring at you as if he's a pirate and you're his lost treasure. His hands come up your thighs and halt at the curve of your hip. It's only now that you realize what he's going to do and try to stop him. "Peter, it's okay! You really don't have to do that for me." There's a slight panic that drills you as his head lowers to your heat.

He softly laughs at you. "Trust me, I'm gonna love this. You just sit back and relax, madam." His tongue trails through your folds, leaving your further protests caught in your throat. There was no arguing now with the undeniably pleasurable feelings Peter was drawing out of you. His mouth works into you more, kitten licking your sensitive clit. The strong feeling of him holding you in place only elevates the sheer delight. Every noise you make in response only pushes him more to continue. His ministrations get unfathomably better after every second.

You gasp his name. "Peter, I want you. All of you." He meets your pleading eyes that tears threaten to spill out of from the pure extacy. Peter finally stops, removing his t-shirt. His toned body is a sight to see. With his pants already halfway undone from your previous handiwork, they slide off with ease. You bring yourself to sit up on the edge of the bed to meet him. He plays with your hair, smiling at you sweetly. Your thumb hooks under his boxers, which are Star Wars themed. Something you note that you can tease him about later. With that, you tug away the final layer of clothing that separates you.

Peter goes to climb on top of you once again, but you take the initiative and flip him onto his back. He doesn't dare to stop you as you rub against his cock with your wet cunt, teasing the idea of it slipping inside you. You kiss him, allowing the sweetness of his lips to put you in a comfortable daze. His arm reaches up your back and soothes you. Lining him up with your entrance, he thrusts his hips slowly forward and pushes inside of you.

The stretch you feel is heavenly. Your plush walls suck him in completely. Peter can only bring himself to roll his head back with delight. He struggles with holding in every little noise that he feels the urge to make at your ministrations. You raise your hips up as far as you can without him sliding out, only to sink back down and take him fully once more. Repeating this, Peter brings a hand to his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut. "You're doing so well- fuck." He leans up, kissing you fiercely. His tongue sloppily explores your mouth with a sense of desperation you could never imagine would be over you. He uses his now free hands to guide you up and down his cock, doing most of the lifting to spare your aching legs.

Peter rolls you beneath him, staying connected to you still. His thrusts become relentless and almost too much to bear from the inhuman speed. Your orgasm is steadily approaching. You can feel your senses highten from it. His sensual touches and praise leave you in a state of bliss. Nothing else matters, only the tight coil in your stomach and Peter's lips that precariously suck your neck. He's surely already left a mark you'd have to explain the next day, but this is a concern for another time.

"You're so good. So fuckin' perfect. Why have we never done this? You're the best thing that could've happened to me. I'm not gonna last much longer, baby." Peter groans in your ear, bringing his hand down between the two of you. His fingers trail over your swollen clit and a rippling sensation that follows makes you gasp with suprise. It sends you over the edge immediately, which makes your entire body quake beneath him. Your back arches uncontrollably, and your mind goes blank.

Peter stiffs above you, pulling out. He paints your stomach with his cum opting not to do so inside. You're both short of breath, Peter especially. He collapses beside you, looping his arm around you for a hug. "Thank you so much. So, so much." He pecks your temple. "Give me one sec."

The space beside you becomes empty for just a moment before he returns, wiping you softly with a wet cloth. "I'm so sorry, that probably feels disgusting." He laughs, "Maybe we should take a bath together."

You raise at last to peek at him, the beaming expression on your face being incredibly obvious. "Yeah, I'd like that." With another fluid motion, he sprints back to the bathroom and starts the flowing water for the tub.

You pull Peter into a tight hug when he returns. His skin is comforting and warm against your own. He brings his strong arms tightly around you. A euphoric buzz flows through your brain. This was better than anything you could ever dream of. Taking a deep breath, you bask in the wonderful scent of him.

You press your cheek against his chest. "So, I see you like Obi-Wan Kenobi." You laugh and recall the design on his boxers from earlier.

Peter confidently replies, "Damn right. I have a whole set of them I'll have to show you."

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

[sokoviansimp]

Hey i saw you wanted two prompt ideas, so how about

"I can't protect you."

"I don't know how much longer I can do this."

With Wanda saying both lines and if you could add a 'both' after you in first one.

And maybe its wanda being worried for yn who's pregnant with their daughter about whether she's strong enough to protect them both, and contemplating turning herself in to protect them. Or being retired but still being called. Something along those lines of whatever takes your fancy :D just happy ending tho lol

Thank you

Love's Triumph: A Maximoff Miracle

✒ Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

✒ Summary: Wanda almost loses you in battle and then finds out that you're pregnant in the hospital while you fight for your life.

✒ Tags and Warnings: angst and fluff

✒ Author's Note: Hope you like it Twilight! Thanks for the request :)

✒ Word Count: 1487

✒ Read Time: 7 minutes

Masterlist : Socials : Part 1.5

The Avengers had faced countless battles, but this one was different. The enemy was more formidable, and the stakes had never been higher. It almost seemed as if all those previous fights led them to this one. After years of searching for leads and extracting moles from their own organization, they knew the new information that they extracted would lead to something big. 

In the midst of the chaos and devastation, a blue streak appeared rushing past the front lines. Too quick to even make out anything, but before anyone could even react, a powerful blast struck the battlefield, sending shock waves through the Avengers' ranks. Wanda, not having time to notice the action, was thrown to the ground, her world spinning. She desperately looked around for you, panic gripping her heart.

It took agonizing moments for Wanda to locate her wife amidst the smoke and rubble. You lay motionless, buried beneath a pile of debris. Wanda's heart nearly stopped as she rushed to your side, using her powers to clear the wreckage as quickly as she could.

When Wanda finally reached you, you were pale and unconscious. Fear coursed through her like a tidal wave. Desperate, she cradled your limp form in her arms, her voice shaking as she called for help. 

The battle raged on around them, but Wanda was oblivious to it all. She focused all her energy on protecting you, her mind consumed by the thought of losing the love of her life. Her emotions got the best of her as she sat there helplessly by your side. In an explosion of her power, the battle wrapped up instantly. Her only thought was to get you somewhere safe. 

In the aftermath of the battle, you were rushed to the hospital, battered and bruised, but miraculously alive. The relief that washed over Wanda was almost unbearable, but it was short-lived.

Read here for part 1.5 (takes place here)

As Wanda sat by your bedside, days passed before you regained consciousness. On the third day, you groggily opened your eyes as you gently rubbed your thumb against Wanda’s hand as she held yours tightly, you looked up at Wanda with a weak smile. "Detka, oh thank god." she let out relieved to see your eyes again as she smothered you in a tight hug. Never wanting to let you go again. Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes as she leaned down to kiss you's forehead. "I thought I had lost you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

You reached out to cup Wanda's cheek, her touch gentle and loving. "You'll always protect me, Wanda. That's what you do."

But Wanda's relief was tainted by a new fear that had taken root in her heart. She had been so close to losing you, and now, as they faced the reality of the situation, she couldn't escape the overwhelming anxiety that had been building inside her, “I don't know how much longer I can do this." Wanda whispered, almost ashamed. The last thing she wanted was to lose you, but somewhere in her heart, she truly felt you would be safer without her. 

“What? Wanda, what do you mean?” Still a bit groggy, you weren’t sure where this was coming from, what you had done to make her feel this way. 

"I can't protect you both," Wanda finally admitted, her voice barely audible. She placed a trembling hand on your stomach, her eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. 

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Wanda, what are you talking about?"

“It worked. We’re pregnant.” Tears streamed down Wanda's cheeks as she tried to explain. "I'm scared, Y/N. Scared that my powers, my life, will put you and our child in danger. I can't bear the thought of losing you both." She rambled on as you were still processing the new information.

Your expression softened with understanding. She reached for Wanda's hand, intertwining their fingers. "Wanda, we'll face this together. We always do, and little Benji will be even stronger for that." 

At the sound of the name you had chosen for your child, Wanda perked up as if instantly forgetting all the fears she was harboring, “Benji?” She nearly snapped, “What are we giving birth to, a dog?” 

You knew the name would get a rise out of your wife, and just as you expected, you were able to distract her from the fear she was spiraling into as you pondered on a name, “Oh, you think you can do better, Ms Maximoff?”

“Eh ehm, that’s Mrs. Maximoff to you, and yes absolutely. What about Tommy?” she reasoned. 

“Hmm, I like Timmy better.” You didn't really, in fact, you loved the name Tommy, but you just liked to get under Wanda’s skin a bit in any playful way that you could. 

The night that you were released from the hospital, you had both decided to spend a quiet evening at home. Wanda had ordered your favorite takeout, and the cozy aroma of food filled your living room as you snuggled up on the couch, blankets draped over your laps. 

Wanda leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. In return, you wrapped your arm around Wanda, pulling her close. You both let out contented sighs, reveling in the comfort of each other's presence.

As the two of you ate, Wanda couldn't help but steal glances at you. You were radiant, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light on your features. Wanda reached out and traced a gentle finger along your jawline, her touch feather-light.

You turned to look at Wanda, a soft smile playing on her lips. "What's on your mind, love?"

Wanda blushed, her cheeks turning a faint shade of scarlet. "Just how lucky I am to have you."

Your smile widened, and you leaned in to place a sweet kiss on Wanda's lips. "The feeling is mutual, baby."

They continued to eat, their conversation drifting from the mundane to the profound. Wanda's fingers found their way to yours, as you interlocked them, your hands fitting together like pieces of a perfect puzzle.

After you finished eating, the two of you were sitting on the couch snuggled in each other's arms when Wanda decided now was a good time to bring up something that had been bothering her, “Y/N?” 

You leaned into her further in response, “Hmm?” you acknowledged. 

“What do you remember about the battle?” she wondered. 

“Oh, uhm. I think I remember it all. We were fighting the soldiers at the peak of the hill when there was an explosion.” You explained from what you could recall, “After that, I woke up with you by my side.”

“Do you remember what caused the explosion?” Wanda pushed. 

“I don’t, oh! I remember something weird happening. Like a light or something.” You tried your best to give her the answers that she was looking for. 

“There was a blue streak of light and then an explosion before we knew it. It was him.” She softly said, knowing you might think she was out of her mind for thinking this, but if anyone would believe her, it was going to be you. 

“Who?” you weren’t sure where she was going with this. 

“My brother.” she said just above a whisper, “I know it was, you have to trust me. I could feel it. When they said he was dead I- I never believed them and you knew that.” She tried to get the information out as quickly as she could, worrying you were going to cut her off and dismiss her like all the other Avengers often did. It was easy for them to chalk her feelings up to denial, as it was just a part of the grieving process. 

You weren’t like the other Avengers though, you trusted your wife, “You really think so?” you said pulling back and catching her eyeline. 

“I know it was him.” She said confidently. 

“Where do we go from here?” you asked. Not knowing what she had in mind, especially with a baby on the way, “Why was he attacking us?” you wondered further. 

“I’m not sure. Do you think they’ll believe me?” she asked, wondering how the rest of the team would react to her theory. 

“If you’re sure it was him, they'll come around. I’m sure of it.” You matched her confidence. Knowing that even if they dismissed her, you would be able to persuade them. 

Wanda nuzzled her wife's neck, breathing in your familiar scent. "You know," she whispered, "every moment with you feels like magic."

You chuckled softly, your heart swelling with affection. "You're the magic in my life, Wanda."

As you gazed into each other's eyes, Wanda pressed her lips to yours once more. This time, the kiss deepened, a gentle dance of love and devotion. In that quiet, intimate moment, you found solace, knowing that your love was the most precious magic of all.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #anon ask #bry answers #sokoviansimp fics #sokoviansimp requests #wanda mcu #wanda maximoff x you #wanda marvel #angst #quicksilver #ask bry #fanfiction #wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x y/n #lgbt #lesbian #gay

[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

[deceitfuldevil]

Hi! I'm so excited for your Sleepover writing and was wondering if I could request the fluff prompt “Your cheeks are really soft.” . . . “Stop squishing them!” with the loml Pietro maximoff (but like- reader squishing pietros cheeks yk) (STOP THAT SOUNDS SO DIRTY BAHAHAHA)

Not that there's a need to title this but I'm giving this one a title anyways.

Freshly Shaven

Harassing Pietro was just about your favorite downtime activity at the avengers compound, I mean how could you not love annoying him when he just made it so easy.

Like today.

You were sprawled out on the couch waiting for the day to get less dull, and then your favorite person walked in. Pietro was patting down his jaw with a towel, tossing it over his shoulder and leaving you to gasp in awe at the sight.

"No." Pietro said with a wavering tone, but you sat up and turned around on the couch with a wide mischievous smile. "No no no." he repeated himself.

"You shaved!" you nearly shouted, and Pietro quickly stepped forward to clasp his hand over your mouth to hush you. Flashing his icy blue eyes at you as if so ask "are you going to be quiet?" and a moment later, unclasped his hand from over your mouth.

"You shaved." you said in a tone barely above a whisper now. Silently reaching your hands up to feel his cheeks, and Pietro only noticed right before your palms came in contact with his skin; leaving him no time to protest.

You let out a soft and quiet gasp as you ran your fingers over his clean, smooth cheeks. "Your cheeks are really soft." you said, pinching and poking at them a bit.

"Ah, stop squishing them!" Pietro said with an annoyed tone, bringing his hands up to push yours away. Grasping your small hands in his much longer ones as he lowered your hands away from his face, you went silent as soon as his hands came in contact with yours. Tension building in your check as Pietro still maintained a upbeat and unaware attitude.

"How would you like it if I did it to you huh?" Pietro said with a light chuckle, only igniting a fire inside of you as he took one hand and firmly grasped your jaw and squished your cheeks. Was it such a crime that a small whimper fell from your lips because of his actions?

"Oh, I see." Pietro said with a dark grin. "Maybe I do know a way to keep you quiet..." he said lifting your jaw up so you were looking at him, leaning in slowly. "Listen dragâ, I think I already know the answer to this but, can I kiss you?"

At a loss for words, you nodded frantically. Prompting Pietro to smile wide and for the first time, press his soft lips to yours.

Ironically enough, his cheeks feel softer against yours than they did in your hands.

#marvel #mcu #fan fic #fan fiction #cute #fluff #love #au #1k celebration #sky’s sleepover #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #mcu pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quickersilver x y/n #mcu reader insert #mcu x reader #avengers age of ultron #age of ultron #1k follower celebration #quick silver #blurb #pietro maximoff blurb

[traintomoon]

FORMULA TO YOU

summary: tangerine finds you studying for an exam.

Tangerine had been away for a few days. You had expected the silence to drive you to preparing for an upcoming exam you had. You were studying neuroscience in a prestigious university.

Life had tied it's ways around to you bumping into Tangerine while he was on a mission at your university. Although that had ended up in a Thursday of blood, but feelings were caught when he had shielded you against raining bullets, pulling you into a crevice, while blessing your ears with agitated curses. In one moment he had his back pressed against you, shooting at a man, while the rest was spent with him facing you, his breath kissing your neck. You had forgotten to breathe. Not in a romantic manner. But in a gruesome reality of you being meters from death. Tangerine had whispered words to reassure you over and over again. "Lemon is taking care of those fuckers, darling. You're safe here, I promise."

He had for a moment squeezed your hand, before turning back to the men who came pouring out from the end of hallway.

Lemon had taken control, but Tangerine had to busy his frantic heart. Your face being so close to his made him feel an unknown ache inside his chest. He couldn't get lost in your eyes at this moment. "I'll treat you to dinner as an apology. Does that sound pleasant in the midst of bullets?" He spoke over his shoulder. You hadn't laughed then, but you did now, thinking about it.

It was a whole new experience to get to know him. He was the busiest person you had known. One day he wouldn't sleep in Australia and then wake up in Bolivia. He didn't speak much of his job, but you knew it wasn't pleasant.

Now after weeks of Tangerine's absence, you felt uneasy. You couldn't contact him either, because he had to stay low. So you held onto hopes of him being brave just like he was while protecting you that day.

Sighing, you pushed at your books, resting your head on the table. You missed him terribly. Maybe it would have been easier if he was there, either watching television while sitting on the couch, or him alarming you by burnt concoctions of his in the kitchen.

Just when you were thinking about him, there were softened footsteps outside the door. Then the familiar keys jingling. Your heart was in your throat. You had never ran faster, beating the person to open the door.

"Lemon?" The disappointment in your voice visually hurt the man.

"That's harsher than macheting limbs, mate." He sighed.

You mumbled an apology, opening the door wider to let him in. "I'm not here to stay. Tangerine sent me."

"What did he say? When is he coming home?" You held onto the doorframe.

Lemon held up a paper bag. "He'll come to his own accord. He asked me to deliver you coffee and cake. You have exams coming up, right?"

You nodded, taking the bag. "It would have been better if he was here himself. I know I'm being selfish right now, but I really miss him. "

Lemon gave you a sympathetic look. It was rare, so you allowed yourself to treasure it. "Thanks for the food by the way." You smiled, looking inside the bag.

"Study well, y/n. He's rooting for you."

You hadn't expected the words to touch you so deeply. Somewhere inside you a light burnt. "Tell him I'll do my best, just like he's doing his."

"Sappy confessions for that man?" Lemon snickered. "He'll hear of this, don't worry. I'll leave then. You take care."

You were quick to return to your desk. You tied your hair in a braided bun before opening your books, feeling more at peace. The food kept you fueled till morning. You didn't sleep a minute, because you had to prove your worth to Tan. He meant a great deal to you. You wanted him to be proud of you.

Tangerine on the other hand drove back towards your place. He ran out of wipes to clean the bloody splatters from his skin. He felt giddy inside, like a teenage boy, at the thought of seeing you.

When he pushed the door open, he was welcomed by silence. He didn't call out for you, hoping he finds you fast asleep in bed.

But when he entered the bedroom and didn't find you there, he panicked, rushing towards the office. He sighed when he found you sitting on the table, back facing him, unaware of his presence. You had headphones on, as you typed along the knowledge you had learnt over the night.

Tangerine felt his heart beat faster, as a soft smile spread on his lips. He walked towards you softly, leaning down to plant a kiss on your neck.

The fright from his touch made you flinch out of the chair so much, that you stumbled back, shoulder hitting Tangerine's chest, and sending him for the floor with you in his arms.

"Nice greeting, my love." Tan looked at you with the softest smile. You were surprised to core. You didn't hold back and pulled him in a hug.

"I missed you so much. You had me worried sick. Are you okay?" You didn't let go, and he couldn't protest. He was too tired to do it. He melted into your arms, the air smelling of vanilla, home and you.

"I missed you more, amor. Sorry for not being here to help you with your work."

You pulled away, taking a good look at his face. He pushed loose strands of hair from your face, then placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Don't apologise. You sent me food, and so much energy. You inspired me to work harder."

"Don't say that. I'm not the best person out there. You on the other hand are an intelligent woman. There is so much brightness inside you. You guide my soul, my sweet. Look at me, talking like a pathetic bastard. I don't talk like this, but you twist me into a softer person."

You cut him off with a kiss which he returned back with just as much passion. You sighed at his touch. He was magical. You pulled away. "Quiz me after you freshen up, okay?"

Tangerine held your face in his hands. "But I want to kiss you." He looked at your lips, making your heart flutter.

"You can, for every correct answer."

"You better study hard then while I shower." Tangerine pulled you up, making you sit in the chair. The sudden change in his whole mood made you laugh. You had to win every single kiss, so you were back to work.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #fluff fanfic #writers on tumblr #quicksilver #lemon bullet train #Spotify

[cafeacademia]

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been warned to stay away from your scary, bad boy neighbour, Pietro Maximoff. He's a biker and rides with a gang and he's intimidatingly handsome. While you try to avoid him at all costs, he corners you, determined to make you realise he's just as soft as you are, and he doesn't want to scare you the way he does.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Reader is super terrified of Pietro, lots of softness after the initial fright of being cornered by him, soft autumnal feels, gentle fluff, kissing, pet names, Pietro - he is a warning himself of course.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 1.5k

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello loves! Here's a little Pietro fic. It's been a while since I've written for this boy but I really missed him! I hope you enjoy this, I've been excited to write this ever since I got the request from @reyhanahasanli!

He was outside again. Pietro Maximoff, silver hair, beautiful face. But god, he terrified you.

He leaned against his bike in his driveway, looking down at his phone. You needed to go outside to check your mail but he was right there. The only times you had ever interacted with him were when he tried to talk to you. But the old lady who had lived in your little house before you had told you before you moved in to watch out for the Maximoff boy. He was in a gang and he would hurt you if you got in his way, according to her at least.

So you kept your distance, scooted past him as fast as you could and even, on one rather embarrassing occasion, bumped into him and then squealed with terror as you ran away and into your house.

But probably the worst part was that Pietro was devastatingly handsome. You saw him from the front window all the time. He was usually out in his driveway, working on his bike. Or he was in his house, shirtless and standing way too close to the window. That always made you feel even more intimidated. How was that man so handsome but so terrifying all at the same time?

You decided after a very impatient five minutes of anxiously working yourself up to just going outside and ignoring him to get your mail, you finally flung the door open and rushed out to the mailbox.

“Hey!” Pietro waved at you from his driveway, but when you looked up at him, you looked like a little rabbit caught in the headlights and you almost had the reaction to run away. But you did come here for your mail, so you fiddled, uselessly with the keys, hands fumbling as you struggled to find the right one and hold it properly. “Hello?” His thick accent made you pause. You felt him standing over you, his shadow looming over your mailbox and you swallowed nervously before you slowly tried to get the key into the lock. You were here now, running back to the house without your post would make you look ridiculous.

“Um,” Pietro said, watching as you finally got the mailbox open and pulled out the magazine that had been delivered. “Huh cute, you read about knitting. Hey, wait, hold on!” Pietro stopped you before you could walk away, his hand coming down to gently hold your wrist.

“I am sorry - do you think I’m going to hurt you, mica Prințesă?” He asked softly. For once, you looked up at Pietro and didn’t feel so intimidated. His features were soft, he was pretty and his lips were turned down in genuine concern. “I-.” You couldn’t quite muster the words, but you nodded when they failed you. For some reason you couldn’t help but be truthful with him, no matter how embarrassing it was to admit that you were afraid of him. “I won’t hurt you, I promise, Printesa. I just came to ask you what you were cooking last night, it smelled really good and-.” “Lasagne.” You interrupted, eyes wide and mildly petrified like he might hurt you for interrupting him, but you slowly relaxed when all he did was smile at you, satisfied and grateful.

You were way too scared of Pietro, but something in the way he looked at you soothed you enough to relax and let him hold onto your hand, his fingers slipping down to hold onto you, his touch gentle and calming and you felt the sudden warmth of calm. You could have pulled away, he wasn’t holding onto you tightly at all, but you didn’t want to.

What was strange to you, was that you had barely ever spoken to Pietro. The only word in this conversation you had said was a food item and now you were holding hands. But somehow, it felt right.

A storm was brewing overhead, and as you stood outside with Pietro, the wind picking up and the loose leaves blowing around the street, you heard the low rumble of thunder overhead. “Do you, um, want to come in for coffee?” You asked, voice timid and very quiet, but Pietro heard you. “Only if you are comfortable, Printesa.” He nodded. Oh… Maybe he wasn’t so scary after all. “I will leave if you ask me to, no questions asked, yes?” He reassured you and you met his eyes, trust forming as you nodded, accepting his reassurance and letting him walk with you towards the house.

As you walked in, you took your shoes off and began to warm up, rubbing the chill away from your arms with your hands. Pietro followed and toed off his boots. He was a huge contrast to the way your home looked. It was calm and warm and cute in your house and Pietro was a biker, hard and rough and tall, built with muscle, painted with pretty tattoos and messy silver hair. But you liked the way he contrasted you.

“This way.” You showed him to your kitchen, quickly going about making him a nice, pretty coffee. “Can I ask you something?” Pietro asked. “Mhm.” You nodded, barely meeting his eyes before turning back to your coffee machine. “Are you scared of me, sweetheart?” He asked quietly, watching you as he leaned against your kitchen counters. And for the first time, Pietro sounded unsure of himself, worried about how you would answer. “Um, maybe a bit.” You nodded, avoiding eye contact. Pietro softened at your words. You really were afraid of him and that broke his heart. But also, it sparked a need to protect you, to make it known that he’d rather protect you than hurt you. “Please do not be, I know I look scary but I am nice. I have a twin sister and I cannot go a week without hugging her and I really like coffee. I really like dogs and I am not part of a gang, is that why you are scared of me?” He rambled. “You’re- you’re not?” You frowned, finally looking over at him. “No, I meet with my biker friends to ride but we are not a gang. We just ride our bikes for fun on Sundays.” He explained, accent thick on his words as he tried to get them out as fast as possible. “Oh… Like a club.” You nodded, passing him a coffee decorated with pretty patterns in the foam.

“Yes, like a club.”

From that moment onwards, you and Pietro were a lot more friendly. Instead of being terrified of him, you often said hello to him and waved if you were in a rush. On the days that you weren’t busy, you sometimes found yourself enjoying the comfort of his living room while it rained outside on cold autumnal evenings. You even showed him how to make traditional lasagne. He loved that.

And one Sunday evening, after his biker friends had left, you peeked your head out of the door to watch him putting his motorbike back in his garage, only for him to call over his shoulder, “are you just going to stand there or do you want to come over, Prințesă?” That was all the prompting you needed to leave your house, cross over to his driveway and throw yourself into his arms, Pietro catching you and hugging you tight against his chest, warm and loving.

“I want to make you a paprikash tonight. Will you cook with me?” He asked, leading you out of the garage and into his house. “Of course.” You nodded. “My good girl. Come, I’ll show you.”

You didn’t do much helping. You mostly just sat on one of his countertops and watched as he cooked while you told him about your day. He let his paprikash cook slowly and while it did, he moved over towards you, stepping closer to rest his hands on the counter, either side of you. “I’m glad we met.” You spoke softly. “Mm, me too, pretty girl.” Pietro gave you his lopsided grin and you nearly melted at the sight. “Are you still afraid of me?” He asked quietly, voice suddenly serious as he leaned closer to you, lips only a breath away from yours. “No, Piet.” You whispered truthfully. “Promise, Printesa mea. Please.” And he captured you softly in a kiss, lips warm and gentle against yours, hands careful as he held you. He felt perfect. Everything about being with Pietro felt perfect. “I promise.” You whispered against his lips. You poured your emotions into your kiss, hands trailing up until they met at the nape of his neck. Pietro kissed you until you were both breathless. He took his time, loving you slowly, kissing you how he had always wanted to kiss you, meaningfully, genuine and full of adoration.

@russian-potatoes @hallecarey1 @reyhanahasanli @mgcllovdrms @liltimmyst @spikedhe4rt @landoisokay @megantje123

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff fluff #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you

[quickiesgirl]

Hey can you do a story where y/n goes on a cruise ship with her parents and she meets Peter there?

Hi, anon! I'm so sorry this took so long for me to write, I tried making it perfect. Hopefully, you like it! <3

The Cruise of Love - Peter Maximoff

Paring: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader Warning: Just some cussing, and my crappy writing.

It was a beautiful morning. The sky was bright blue with little to no clouds above you. Your black round sunglasses blocked out the sun as you laid back on one of the sun loungers on the cruise deck, facing the luxurious pool. You slowly closed your eyes and felt your body subtly sway back and forth as you unwind. 

You were on a seven-day cruise vacation of relaxing amenities, poolside fun, and live music with your parents. This was the first cruise you’ve ever been on and the only other cruise you knew of was the Love Boats, Pacific Princess. 

You took in a deep breath of fresh air as the sun warmed your skin, but you felt a little uncomfortable. You had on a vibrant orange two-piece bathing suit and a matching see-through top over your chest, fitted around the top and loose on the arms.

It was your first time trying it out, and it wasn't really your usual style. Your mom found it for you in one of those girly magazines. She suggested that you should change up your outfits a bit and keep them less dark and grungy. She was old fashion in that way and preferred seeing you in bright womanly colors. 

Your eyes fluttered open as a tiny giggle caught your attention across the deck. You watched a little girl, around 9 or 10, run across and dove into the pool as her older brother playfully chased after her, shouting, “I’m gonna get you! Rrroar!!” 

Her brother made a bit of a scene as one of the older couples who were sunbathing in some of the loungers looked over and groaned. You continued watching as the little girl swam around her brother, as you got a better look at him.

He was the only person you’d seen around your age, and he was super cute. He had a sweet smile and awesome silver hair. You couldn’t help but quietly chuckle to yourself. It was pretty freakin’ cute watching them playing together. He looked like a good brother. 

After a few minutes of playing, Peter's head popped in the water. His silver hair, which was once fluffy, was now flat with water dripping down the strands. He looked up in your direction and spotted you in all your beauty. He was star-struck as butterflies filled his stomach, and a flutter of excitement rushed over him. 

It was love at first sight. 

 “Woah,” Peter muttered beneath his breath. Lorna swam over and giggled, “Oooo, you have a crush!!” She teased, giving him a toothy grin. 

“Huh? No. Mind your business.” He playfully splashed his little sister, bringing her to stick her tongue out at him in response before she swam over to the steps and began walking over to where their bags sat, which was right beside you. 

 Peter’s eyes widened, knowing what his little sister was up to, “Oh, shit.” 

The little girl sat on the chair beside you and smiled widely, “Hi!”

You politely smiled back and lifted your glasses, placing them on your head, “Hello!” 

Her brother was now quickly hopping out of the pool and walking up behind her. 

“My brother thinks you are super pretty!” 

You lightly smirked, looking up at the boy who stood behind her, his eyes went big, and his face became completely flushed. He quickly covered his hand over her mouth and blurted out, “No.” 

“Well, wait no- I-I don't mean that I don't think you're pretty because I do, but I just meant for my little sister to stop.” He attempted to recover himself quickly, making you start to giggle softly. “It’s fine.”  

Lorna looked up at him with a giant grin as he let go and groaned, mouthing, “I’m telling mom.”  

Peter grabbed his Dark Side of the Moon shirt from the bag and threw it over his wet chest. You gazed over, admiring how the wet Pink Floyd shirt outlined his chest and subtle abs. 

“Nice shirt!” You complement as he gazed over and smiled, “Thanks, you like Pink Floyd too?” He asked.  

“I love them! They're one of my favorite bands.” 

Peter sat down on the chair next to you and the two of you began sharing each other's love for the band. “Y-you know, they named themselves Pink Floyd because of their favorite singers, Pink Anderson and Floyd Council.” 

“Really?” You knew this already but found it pretty cute that he wanted to tell you. He excitedly nodded in response, and introduced himself, “I’m Peter Maximoff.” 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” 

 It would be your first encounter with the silver-haired boy until later that night, while you were sneaking out of your bedroom and walking down the hall. Just as you turned the corner, in a quick blur your shoulder hit the passing stranger beside you, making you start to fall. You felt arms suddenly wrap around your body and firm hands hold your back before you could hit the ground.

Your eyes widened as they came into focus on Peter. His body was against yours, and you could feel his warm breath tickling your skin as his dark brown eyes looked down at you with concern, “Holy shit, are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I think so.” You nodded, gazing down at his hand attached to the side of your waist as you felt the other rest on the middle of your back, holding you up with his strong arms. He looked down, realizing his hand placement before lifting you back on your feet and letting go. “Sorry.” 

“Oh, it’s fine! I’m sorry. I should have been watching where I was walking.” You nervously smiled and glanced down, trying to hide the redness that was forming across your cheeks. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, y-yeah, of course.” He nodded and nervously scratched the back of his neck. 

“Your Peter, right? We met by the pool earlier with your little sister?” You asked. You knew it Peter. How could you not? With the small amount of time you’d spent with him, you’d admire everything about him. His cuteness caught your eye. He had dark brown eyes that you could get lost in, pretty, soft-looking lips, an adorable nose with a little beauty mark on it, and an awesome style. 

“Yes! Wait, you remember my name?” His eyes widened with a glimmer of surprise. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I remember?” 

Peter glanced down at his converse shoes and fidgeted with the end of his silver jacket, “I honestly just expected you to think I was a loser and not care.” 

“I would never think that!” You shook your head before leaning in close with a little smirk, “and trust me. You're the coolest person I’ve met here.” 

Peter's eyes meet yours and his cheeks dimpled as he let out a timid chuckle. 

“So, Y/n, what are you doing out this late?” He crossed his arms and suspiciously tilted his head, somehow recognizing that you weren’t allowed to be out this late. “Just needed some fresh air.” 

“Wanna come walk with me?” Your lips curled into a smile that made Peter's heart flutter, “Yeah, sure!” 

“What about you? What are you doing out?” You questioned, looking over at him. 

 “I wanted to explore and pick up some souvenirs from the front desk's candy bowl.” 

You giggled at the man-child who stood before you, revealing the front pocket of his silver jacket, full of wrapped candies. “Jesus Pete, what did you steal the whole bowl?” 

“No, only like… Half of it.” He gave you a giant grin, “Want some?” 

“I’m good, Peter, thanks.” You chuckled. 

The two of you walked together up to the top of the deck. The crackling of the ocean waves filled the air, and a nice breeze against your back cooled you off. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and admired you from afar as you gazed out towards the deep sea. He could watch you forever. You were beautiful as your hair blew in the wind with a small twinkle in your e/c eyes. “So, Y/n, where are you from?” He broke the silence. 

You looked over, noticing a tootsie pop suddenly sticking out his mouth. “I’m from D.C.”

His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, “No way, we’re just a little outside of D.C.” 

“Really? Well, maybe, after we get off this cruise, we can see each other sometime.” You suggested with a little smile, watching his head happily nod as he held the lollipop in his cheek and nervously smiled back. His mind was racing as the words spilled out, “Hey. I-I know it might be early to ask this but… Tomorrow night, do you want to go on a date with me?” 

You swallowed back all the fluttering warmth this boy made grow inside you and looked passionately into his eyes, “I’d love to.” 

He felt the relief of excitement rush over him, “Okay, I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” 

“Sounds great!” 

The next night came. You had just finished slipping on some jeans, putting on your favorite shirt, and one of your jean jackets that had pins and patches lined across it before hearing a gentle knock on your bedroom door and rushed over, widely opening it to see the silver-haired boy. “H-Hey, Y/n!” 

“Hi, Peter!” You greeted sweetly, “My dad told me that we have an hour and a half.” 

“Perfect! I set everything up.” Peter told you as he gently took your hand in his and pulled you along. “Set what up?” You asked, still very unknown to what he had planned for the two of you. 

“It’s a surprise!”  

Peter led you up to the deck, over to a little corner where some small lit candles were set around the sprawled-out blanket and rose petals sprinkled around. It was a perfect night for the two of you. The moon was bright, the stars were out, and little to no wind, so the rose petals weren't blown away. 

Your heart melted at the sight. It was so sweet how much effort he put into making this date special. He looked over at you and fidgeted on his feet, “I-I didn't really think you’d agree to go on a date with me when I asked, and I haven't had much time to plan it out. I know it's not the best spot for our date, but-” 

“Peter, It’s perfect!” You stopped him from his cute nervous rambling. 

The two of you sat beside each other, and Peter sweetly wrapped the wool blanket around his and your shoulders and looked up, admiring the stars together. “It's such a beautiful night.”  

Peter gazed at you as his cheeks dimpled, “Not as beautiful as you.” He said cheesily, earning a little giggle from you while you playfully rolled your eyes. “Your too sweet, Pete.” 

The water swayed the cruise ship pushing your arms against each other, bringing you closer together as the two of you talked. You felt so comfortable around Peter. It was almost like you’ve been together your whole lives. You laid your head on his shoulder, making his heart melt as you doted over his comforting scent of soft lavender that filled your nose. 

“I’m so happy I’ve gotten to meet you, Maximoff.” 

Peter's cheeks reddened as he let out a sheepish chuckle, “Yeah, I'm happy we met too. You’ve been like the best thing on this cruise.” 

“Thanks.” Your lips curled into a smile that you hid against his shoulder as you continued looking up at the moon of love that shined down on top of you.

The two of you enjoyed each other's warmth and comfort. A few minutes passed before you heard your tummy lightly rumble beneath you, making Peter grin and glance back at you, “Shall I get some snacks, m’lady?” 

You nodded with a little chuckle, “Yes, please!” 

Before you could say another word, you watched in disbelief as your date suddenly disappeared from your sight in a split second and stood in front of you with a handful of little snacks. Your eyes widened as it dawned on Peter what he had just done. 

“Shit-” He whispered, under his breath, concerned that this would completely freak you out and fuck up everything. You tilted your head to the side and asked, “Woah. You're a mutant?”

“Yeah… I'm sorry.” He avoided eye contact as he shook his head. 

“Why are you apologizing?” You stood from the bundled blanket and walked over. 

 “Because I ruined everything… I- I didn't want to scare you.”

You placed one hand on his shoulder and used your other to place your fingers on the bottom of his chin and raise his head to look at you. “You didn’t scare me. In fact, I'm amazed. It’s pretty incredible that you have these abilities, Peter, and I promise you didn't ruin our date.” 

Those dimples appeared across his adorable cheeks before he sped the snacks aside, and you wrapped his arms around you. He gently picked you up off your feet and spun you around as you laughed while wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “You’re the best, Y/n! You're the best!” 

It was that summer night when you fell in love, and in the six days you had left on the cruise, you and Peter became inseparable and hung out with each other more than your own families. 

You loved him, and every night when you’d get into your bed, the only thing that was racing through your mind was him. Only a few rooms down, Peter laid in his bed and holding his pillow to his chest, imagining it was you burying your head in the crevice of his shoulder, kissing his neck as you laid against him. 

You promised yourself that at the end of the cruise trip, you’d shoot your shot and finally kiss him, and on your last day, while your parents were waiting for you in the car. You stood with Peter on the dock as passengers exited the cruise ship. 

“Well, I guess this is goodbye?” Peter’s eyebrows scrunched as he frowned sadly and stared deeply into your eyes. “Yeah...” You sighed, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. 

“I’ll call you tonight?” 

“You better!” You told him, slowly leaning in and draping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around your waist and melted against the hug. He didn't want you to leave his arms, but he knew you had to, and as you pulled away, you gently caressed his cheek in the palm of his hand and pushed your lips against his, sharing a tender, passionate kiss, one that filled Peter's tummy with butterflies and gave him goosebumps. 

You stood up on your tippy-toes to reach as he held your body against his chest and his soft, satisfying lips kissed you back. 

What felt like minutes was only a few seconds. You slowly detached your lips and smirked. He stood there with wide eyes and a bright blushing face, starstruck with euphoria. That day, he had kissed you, long and good. It was everything he'd dreamed of ever since he met you. 

“See you around, Maximoff.” 

Peter watched you wink before walking away, back to your parent’s car. But after that morning, he knew it wouldn't be very long until he was holding you in his arms and calling you, his. 

He sped to his mother’s car, and when he hopped in, he found Lorna and his mother, Magda, both staring at him with surprise. “See, aren't you happy I told her how pretty you thought she was?” Lorna asked, making him laugh. 

 “Yeah. I am.” Peter said, looking off into the distance with the happiest grin his mother had ever seen.

Taglist: @de4ds0up @raincoffeeandfandoms @001swhore @writinginpeace @mayo-advance @violate-larmon @spider-starry @josephines-simps-fics @in-love-with-srk

Message if you want to be added or removed.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x fem!reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff xmen #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver fluff #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver xmen #xmen #xmen x reader #x men fanfiction #evan peters #quickiesgirl writing

[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

[fandomnerd9602]

Wanda approaches Y/N…

Wanda: you’re a robot created by Stark?

Y/N: yes.

Wanda: you single?

Pietro: sestra?!

Wanda: sorry! Y/N is just so attractive!

Y/N: if I could blush I would. Will you be the center of my world?

Wanda blushes…

Pietro: I can’t even.

Pietro runs out…

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff incorrect quotes #wanda maximoff imagine #age of ultron #avengers #pietro maximoff #quicksilver

[quickandsilvers]

Sick Day 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

Summary: Reader has come down with an illness, so Peter decides its time to repay the favour and take care of her.

Warnings: Oral sex(fem), fingering, kissing, humping, mention of a sex toy, embarrassment on readers end, Peter being an annoying and yet also very adorable airhead

Word count: 5083

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

A/N: im really happy with how this turned out, so im hoping anyone reading will enjoy it too.💕

A good night's sleep was tough enough to get as an Xmen.

Sleeping in went unbeknownst to you, with late nights on missions and grueling 6am training sessions, requiring you to be up and ready to go while everyone else slept lethargically in their rooms without a single care in the world.

This weekend was supposed to be your reprieve, no early mornings, no new work, just a chance to lie in and scoff as many cake snacks as possible until you grew nauseous. Or it should've been. This weekend was anything but.

Since it was a Friday night, and you’d just had a full day of lectures (courteous to Charles, of whom seemed to thrive off of your misery) you promised yourself that Saturday was the day you would crack on and do.. Well.. nothing.

Lying in bed, however, the probability of this happening seemed bleak. Dull, aching pain shot through your stomach intermittently, and the feeling of whole body numbness and nausea couldnt be shaken.

Whimpering and clutching at your stomach, you feebly use your powers to close your bedroom door. You would rather be caught stark naked running through Charles prized white rose bushes than be seen writhing in your bed like you were doing your best attempt of a caterpillar in the process of metamorphosis. You were very aware of Peter’s frequent roaming of the halls, knowing if he caught you in such a state you would never be able to live it down.

You felt weak. Insecure. A class four mutant and yet you succumbed to something as simple as a stomach ache and fever?

It was a fight to repress the pain. A fight you were in fact losing, and you weren’t sleeping because of it.

You weren't exactly sure how your sickness had flared up, but living in a mansion full of prepubescent kids that paid more attention to what was being served for lunch, rather than the basic hygiene and cleanliness standards made you less than surprised.

A glance at your phone. 2:37 AM. A sorry sign given that you’d gone to bed at quarter to twelve. With an exasperated huff you got up, instantly squatting to the ground to lessen the pain that was realized with it. Then, slowly, you maneuvered yourself into your bathroom, supporting your jittery hands on the countertop of your sink before looking into the mirror.

Holy shit, someone alert the authorities. Exorcism needed, stat. Pale faced skin, lidded eyes and disheveled hair greeted you like a slap in the face, only seeming to aid in your shitty mood.

Groaning, you trudged back into the confines of your bed, too lazy to attempt fixing whatever happened to your appearance and disappearing under the covers. You ignored the sweltering heat emitting off of your body, instead picking up your phone once more and dialing a number you knew off by heart.

As an adult, you should’ve been able to handle being sick on your own. But you still wanted to talk to Peter, at least let him know that you weren't feeling great. He owed it to you anyway, you reassured yourself, remembering his leg fracture after the Apocalypse battle, making you his personal assistant for the next two weeks.

A very, very long two weeks. Not that you minded too much, especially when aiding him in getting dressed in the morning, but you soon realized he was essentially just a giant toddler, with no sense of spatial awareness or consideration for your busy schedule.

Peter had somehow influenced you into sharing the same bed for the time his leg was broken, exaggerating the fact he might ‘roll off the bed and be confined to the floor like a turtle stuck on its back.’ His words, not yours.

You weren’t even sure if that was a plausible excuse. Nonetheless, it worked, and you spent the next while being laid upon as though he were a weighted blanket, his stifling speedster body heat having the same effect on you as a sauna.

That you could deal with until you discovered his tendency to constantly be moving around on the bed, even whilst sleeping. One time you woke up with your best friend sprawled out in a way you can only describe as a malfunctioned starfish, limbs stretched out in ways you didn't imagine were possible.

The morning after you made a satirical statement of tying Peter down to the bed to keep him still, only to instantaneously regret it after being met with wiggling eyebrows and a plethora of bondage jokes.

Snapping yourself out of your tranfix, you dial the number, not having to wait as Peter picked up before the first ring.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He said. You could practically hear his grin from down the phone.

“Hey, are you busy?” You spoke the best you could, wincing at the voice crack you made.

“Geezz, what's up with you?” Peter snorted, and you could hear the faint buzz of his Mrs Pacman machine, telling you he was in his basement. “Yer mouth sexed a can of helium or what?”

Rolling your eyes, you cleared your throat, ignoring the burning sensation traveling through your trachea. “Shut up, Maxipad-'' you could hear his groan through the screen “i was gonna say that i'm just not feeling that good right now. Nothing terminal, was just gonna ask if you could stop by or someth-?”

A woosh sounded from your phone before the call ended, and with a fwip, Peter was standing in your bedroom.

With your half-lidded eyes you glanced up to see your best friend, clad in his million dollar man tee and the only pair of pants you’ve ever seen him wear, the dark metallic color almost black due to the lack of light in your bedroom.

Donning his signature grin hinted with a smidge of concern, Peter blew a section of his silvery hair out of his face before his chocolate eyes locked onto yours. Peter titled his head in amusement, snorting at what you could only assume was your current state of appearance.

Before you could come up with a witty remark, a cough attack silenced your words, making you lean into a sitting position and struggle for breath. When it was over, you noticed Peter now standing on your left with his grin replaced with blatant concern, handing you a glass of water he seemed to have just magically pulled out of his ass.

You eyed the glass, your throat thirsty and parched, but suspicious over the unusual act of care.

“Did you spit in it?” You ask hoarsley, although accepting the drink.

“Please, i’m not that much of an airhead.” Peter argued, laughing at your deadpan gaze. “Besides, it’s not me who you should be worried about. We both know Scott is the most diseased out of all of us.”

“You're still hung up on that?” You barked in laughter before sputtering at the wave of pain sent through your throat.

A few weeks prior, the mansion held a birthday celebration for Kurt, where Scott had one too many to drink. The night ended with your friend sprawled out in a nearby bush outside the mansion, hurling into what poor Scott drunkenly believed was a bag.

The bag in question? Peter’s silver jacket.

“It was my only one!” Peter whined, “they don’t make ‘em anymore!”

You covered your laugh with your hand, knowing Peter’s beloved jacket was a sensitive topic. Although, you made a mental note to find a jacket as similar to his as possible, knowing that the speedsters birthday was just around the corner.

“I’m sure you’ll live.” You smiled, before furrowing your brows as you watched Peter rustling around your cupboards.

“I’m looking for some cough sweets” Peter remarked as he continued to rummage through your things, sensing your confusion. “-for your throat”

You nodded, pointing to a pair of drawers on the opposite side of where you were laying in bed. “Bedside table drawer.” Fwip.

Whilst focusing on adjusting your position into a comfortable one, you could hear the sound of the drawer being pulled open, the rustling indicating Peter’s fumbling.

A half-minute later, you find a comfy spot and turn towards Peter, the background noises coming to a stop and his voice speaking up.

“Found i- oh, hel-lo.” He whistled.

“Did you find the cough sweets?” You asked. Studying his gaze, you wrinkled your nose in puzzlement as Peter stared into the drawer, a wide grin forming on his flushed face.

From knowing Peter since the Xmen formed in ‘83, you recognised this smirk from anywhere, identifying it from when Peter teases you about something. Which of course, is constantly.

“What?” You turn to throw a blanket over yourself before looking back. As you do, you see Peter staring at you with a wicked smile, an arched eyebrow and-

Fuck.

Your silver vibrator in his hand.

Your eyes get impossibly wide and your jaw goes slack in a combination of surprise and pure horror. You completely forgot about that thing, being so busy with missions and training meant that you hadn’t had the time to kick back and relax like you used to do.

The realization that the vibrator was silver, your best friend's infamous signature color, only added to your embarrassment. How were you gonna dig yourself out of this one?

Peter’s grin only gets wider at the comical realization on your face. A few moments of silence and, as if you had been cured miraculously, you scrambled towards him, kneeling upon the bed so that you were only just in line with his twinkling eyes.

Peter snickered as you got closer, drawing the vibrator closer to his chest, almost possessively.

“A vibrator, huh?” He confirms in that annoying tone you had got to know so well. The tone that makes you want to sink into the ground and be one with the soil, no conscience or memory of the situation you are facing.

“That’s something personal, give it back.” You point out, sharp and firm. You extend your hand, waiting for Peter to give you the vibrator, but of course, you remain ignored. “Don’t get cocky about it. The color choice was a coincidence.”

Peter smiles lopsidedly and glances down at you. “I wasn’t sayin’ it was, babe.. But now you’ve got me thinkin’..” He ponders, quirking one of his eyebrows again and waving the silicone in the air mockingly, his thumb resting on the button of the vibrator keenly.

“It was the only color left in stock.” Liar.

Noticing his disbelieving gaze and cocky smirk, you know that you are just digging yourself a bigger hole. You grit your teeth, darting your hand out to try and grab your toy but to not avail, it doesn’t seem like he was giving it back anytime soon.

That annoys you more than it would if it was anyone else, but it's Peter, the most childlike, insufferable, annoying jerk you had ever had a silly crush on passionate hatred for.

You step closer to once more grab your embarrassing secret, but Peter yanks it down and hides it behind his back gleefully. You can't stop that quick move, but you manage to grab Peter by the bicep and push him back and against the bedside table.

You realize that you are now standing really close to him; one side of your body is pressed against Peter’s and you can even feel his tickling breath on your face. Peter stares at you with that twisted, amused look for a few more seconds before he starts blabbering again.

“I guess that you're more of a naughty chick than I was thinkin’, huh?” He speaks in a weird, yet somehow seductive, low voice.

A high-speed buzz trembled next to your ear and you turn, only for your eyes to set on the vibrator Peter was clutching, the silicone moving in rapid motion as he fiddled with the settings.

“This surely ain’t the fastest it can go?” Peter asked rhetorically, and you noticed as his teasing expression switched, as if he were struck dumb with surprise. “Pretty lame if you ask me babe.”

You clench your jaw as you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, the suggestive undertone from his words not going unnoticed by you. You fight against it, not wanting to blush and give Peter more satisfaction.

Another ego boost you fear may be fatal, but you can't help it; your cheeks turning crimson. Peter notices and giggles, nibbling the side of his lip.

“Ya know yer look totally bitchin’ when yer blushing?” He says coyly, and that comment only makes your blush intensify, however you refuse to back down. Nothing you do can bring you back from an endless lifetime of teasing hanging over your head.

“Stop that,” you say harshly, albeit shakily “And give me the vi-.. Just give it back,” Your nose wrinkles at the mere word, embarrassed to come to terms with what your best friend has found in your drawer. You tug Peter’s arm, harder this time, but he doesn't relinquish.

“Yer want it back?” he teases and you know exactly what's coming next. “Then come get it,” Peter pulls back his arm. Fwip. He stands confidently at the other side of your bedroom. You groan. “Why do you always have to act like this?!” You yell, exasperated but not surprised, feebly running after him.

Peter is now standing in the middle of your bathroom with a shit-eating grin and the vibrator dangling in his hand, joyfully inspecting the streaks of silver running along it.

You can only imagine what he is thinking in this moment, the thought of you spread out on your bed, thrusting your toy in and out at a steady pace, soft whimpers and praises of his name squeaking out of you. Peter’s cock twitched at the mere thought.

“Come on babe, if you want it back, you have to fight for it,” he goads, waving the vibrator right in your face.

That's it, you have to stop this now.

You throw yourself against Peter and you both fall back onto the bed. You struggle for a moment and the speedster is giggling the whole time, evidently amused by the situation. He surely loves torturing you like this and the thought of that makes you feel even angrier and struggle harder.

You keep trying to yank his right arm, but Peter pushes you back and hides the hand that's holding the vibrator behind his back once more, sporting a borderline malicious grin.

“What, babe? Are yer gonna give up now?” He teases with an evil smirk that makes you lose it again. You push him forward and manage to make him fall back in the bed. Then you get on top of him, straddling Peter as a way to keep him from moving, but the effort seems to be futile as he keeps shifting under you; his head ducked in the hollow of your neck and one of his hands holding you back by the hip.

After a moment, he stops struggling and you realize that Peter is breathing heavily. You can feel his warm breath brushing the side of your neck and you notice that your own breathing is hitching too.

You pull back, observing Peter's devil gaze. In record time, literally, Peter flipped your positions, his hands snaking into yours as he holds them either side of your head. You stay quiet, glancing up at your best bud and awaiting his next move.

Glancing down at your lips, Peter’s tongue protrudes as he swipes it across his own, chest heaving in excitement. “If yer gave me the chance, babe?” His words were sincere and low.

“I could take real good care of ya.” Peter’s now dark gaze looks up and bores into your own, emphasizing his words in a way that had you needing him already.

You gulped as your breath hitched, your legs involuntarily rubbing together for friction. Arousal seeped from your entrance, beginning to soak your panties, being concealed only by the oversized sleep shirt you had over you.

If Peter had this effect on you with just his words, you wondered how you would survive with him balls deep inside. The thought alone made your thighs quake.

You weren’t stupid. You were very aware of Peter’s dating history and his tendency to ‘get around.’ But could you blame him? With the power to move any part of his body at mind bogglingly rapid speeds, you were surprised that there wasn’t a line of women outside his dorm room each night, cash in hand.

Peter was a respectful lover, of course, making it known his intentions from the get-go, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure from the inexperience you had against him. You weren’t a virgin, but you absolutely weren’t experienced either.

Peter felt your legs quivering as he looked down, fighting against the Gods themselves to not moan at the sight before him. Your baggy shirt had lifted up during the tussle, revealing your lace panties, wet from your arousal. His own cock leaked in response, and Peter looked back up, awaiting your response.

He was Peter. Your Peter; and you trusted him wholeheartedly.

“Really?”

“Scout’s honor, babe.” Peter grinned, holding up four fingers. He wasn’t a scout, nor was he holding up the right amount of fingers, but that was enough for you.

Smiling, you nodded, and Peter’s nervous facade dropped instantly as a teasing smirk adorned his features. He sat up to pull his shirt over his head in one swift motion, then leant back down to meet you in a passionate kiss.

Your lips parted instantly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth while his fingers found the hem of your shirt, sliding up until the pads of his fingers tickled and grazed your waist. Peter hummed in content, enjoying the slight jolts your body made in reaction to his soft touches.

Sliding his hand along your spine, your back arched, allowing Peter to pull you up into a sitting position and gently take off your shirt. Once the material was discarded on the floor and you were left in just your panties, Peter grinned like a schoolboy at the sight of your bare chest, watching your nipples gradually harden from the exposure to the cold air.

A low groan rumbled from the back of his throat as he leant forward to blow cool air on your tits briefly, making you whimper and curl your hands into his unbelievably soft hair that you were impossibly jealous of.

He leaned back quickly to remove his shirt, discarding it in the general direction where he threw yours.

Peter’s focus moved back to your face, taking you in another sweet kiss as his chest collided with yours. The warmth between your bodies was comforting, especially when Peter pressed them together and pulled back from the kiss to travel back down. He kissed down the valley of your breasts, moving to the underside with an unsuspecting nip, making you gasp and clutch onto his hands.

Your eyes closed as Peter worked on your chest, nipping, licking and sucking the both of them, leaving a trail of marks that showed your belonging to him. When his soft touches subsided, you opened your eyes, only to be met with Peter’s dark ones and a smirk gracing his pinkish lips.

You were about to question him on why he stopped before he shushed you and tilted his head teasingly.

“Be honest with me, babe. Yer bought that vibrator with me in mind.” Peter smiled cheekily as you flushed once more, shaking your head in denial.

“It was just a big coincid-” you stopped mid sentence as your best friend quirked his eyebrow, disbelief coating his expression. You sighed.

“I guess.. It might've been at the back of my mind..” you mumbled almost inaudibly, averting your gaze due to the sheer embarrassment of admitting your dirty secret to the very last person you intended to tell.

Peter mockingly leaned closer towards you, cupping his ear with his hand as if it were impaired. “I’m sorry, babe, couldn’t hear yer there. What did ya say?” You glared at him, only making him laugh and continue with the gesture until you did what he wanted.

“Okay- fine! Yes, it was about you. Don’t be gettin’ so cocky about it, alright?” You admitted, exasperated.

Peter snickered jovially, his chest puffing out in show that your words had already given him the ego boost he was craving for. You could barely revel in your humiliation before you gasped, a buzzing emitting from your clit that made you writhe in a frenzy.

“All yer had to do was tell me the where and when, babe.” Peter grinned, gazing at your blissful expressions as the pads of his fingers pressed deeper into your clit, making you rock your hips into his hand. “Yer don’t need that toy when ya have the living, breathing, undoubtedly sexier thing.” You failed to answer, instead nodding vigorously and whimpering.

The buzzes came to an abrupt stop as his hands slid back out of your soaking panties, and you whined at the loss of contact, humping the air to gain some sort of friction to keep you going.

Peter snickered beside you, a comment about how needy you were for him going unnoticed by you as you whined for his touch.

You gripped onto his hands tight, gasping as Peter once more began kissing down your chest, but this time passing your breasts and moving down your stomach, peppering kisses along the way.

“Your skin is so fuckin’ soft,” Peter groaned, grabbing your thighs with a “c’mere” and pulling you towards him “what typa baby powder are yer usin’, huh?” His voice blabbered on and you let out a sound that was between a chuckle and a moan, your chest heaving as you awaited his heavenly touches.

Hooking your aching legs over his shoulders, Peter reached for the strap of your underwear, his fingers hooking underneath and sliding them off. You could faintly hear the fumble of the material, unknowing that Peter had shoved your wet panties in his trouser pocket.

One of his hands reached upwards to join with yours again, giving you the added reassurance that you would be okay and safe with him.

Your mind completely dissociated from anything other than him as Peter parted your sticky folds with his tongue, sliding the wetness up until he reached the other end. He giggled into your core, making you furrow your brows in confusion but shiver at the vibrations rippling through you.

“I was thinkin’.. It just reminded me of that old guy parting the seas.” Peter chuckled, and your head lifted up to look at your best friend in pure shock. ”What was his name? Monty? Moses? Moses! It was Moses.”

The Fuck?

“You seriously cannot be quoting the bible whilst eating me out, Peter.” You couldn’t believe what he just said. He couldn’t have been the furthest from sexy in this moment, and yet your body was still trembling from anticipation and want. You laid back down, chuckling from the irony and utter bullshit Peter spew out.

“Sorry, sorry.” Peter grimaced, cringing at his own actions “not the time.” Letting out a breath of hot air that hit your center, you gasped, immediately forgetting about what just occurred.

Peter dove in fully this time, leaving you almost no time to prepare as his tongue swirled around your slick in a way that had you clawing at your interlocked hands, gripping Peter so tightly you feared you may be cutting off his circulation.

Your body jolted uncontrollably, and using his other hand, Peter pressed it against your stomach to cease your movements, your skin burning up underneath his touch.

The bed rocked underneath you, not only from your involuntary movements but from the relentless thrusts Peter made on the bed, his cock hardening from your squeaks and moans that he was creating. He humped the bed, groaning into your core, only adding in the stimulation and pleasure, taking you to the brink of screaming so loud that Ororo could be able to hear you from the other side of the mansion.

Peter’s nose tickled your clit as he lapped at your heat, giving you that extra stimulation that took you where you needed to get faster. Your breathing quickened as you felt a finger penetrate through your folds and fully into you, making you gasp and clench, begging him to just move. Move.

The mix of his tongue flicking and buzzing your clit and his now two fingers pumping you in and out sent you into a frenzy, your moans only spurring Peter on, taking him to the edge of his own release.

The only thing you could think about was Peter and the exhilarating pleasure that he was providing you. You seized up as if you were in fear his actions would stop altogether, burning pressure building inside of you to the point you felt like you might explode.

With a curl of his fingers against a particularly spongy spot inside of you, you cried out Peter’s name as your back arched expertly off the bed, blazing intense bliss shooting out from your core and spraying the mattress, your thighs and Peter’s face.

Crying out once more in pure euphoria, your back hit the bed as you spasmed, Peter’s tongue working you through your orgasm.

Breathing heavily, you shuddered as Peter’s fingers slid out of you, a trail of your sticky release coating his digits. He all but moaned at the sight, arousal pooling in his belly as he unconsciously jutted his hips forward once more, seeking and finding the contact for his rock hard erection that was painfully constricted in the tight confines of his pants.

After a few more sharp thrusts, a filthy moan came out from Peter, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and thick ropes of hot cum spilling into his underwear.

As your high came to an end Peter moved to kneel above you, putting his slick-covered fingers into his mouth and closing his eyes, humming at the taste. You didn’t even have the strength to utter out thanks to Peter, watching him tiredly as he wiped his chin of arousal.

He leant down briefly to kiss the inside of both your quivering thighs before laying them down to rest against the mattress.

Humming a low chuckle at your blissed out state, Peter took you into a delicate kiss, the taste of yourself and the heat of your altercation invading your senses. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling away after short intervals for air.

“Well?” he said, tucking a sweaty strand behind your ear.

“Well what?”

“Was it better than the vibrator?” Peter smirked, leaving wet kisses and hickies along your jawline that your peers would surely question about tomorrow.

You let out a few breaths, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that you just fucked your bestfriend.

“I think you know the answer to that, Peter.” You breathed lightly as his hair tickled your cheeks. He grinned against the skin of your neck, encouraging a tired smile of your own to break out.

He then sat up promptly, adorning a mischievous smile before using his speed to grab the vibrator, you watching him with wide eyes.

You thought he had the intentions for a second round, but you were dumbfounded as he sped over to your balcony, stepping outside and using his speed to throw the toy as far as a speedster deemed possible.

“Peter!!” You screeched, jumping out and quickly pulling on his tee, of which thankfully covered your bare bottom half, running up to the balcony and staring into the vast darkness. “That was mine, you airhead! You have to get it back!”

“It didn’t even work that well, princess.” Peter promptly shrugged at his actions, bending down to throw you over his shoulder. You screech once more, flinging your arms about in an attempt to cover your bare lower half, a string of obscenities leaving your sore throat.

He threw you onto the bed under the covers, disappearing for a nanosecond to clean up and then reappearing, wearing a sweatshirt and sleeping pants. Peter crawled under with you, nuzzling into your neck contently as if he hadn’t just lobbed your expensive toy to the other side of the continent.

You scoffed, pushing against his head. “I can’t believe you’ve actually just done that.”

Still unrelenting, Peters warm hands slowly rubbed up and down your thigh, as if trying to hypnotize you into sleep. “No regrets,” he grinned, voice slightly muffled as his breath hit your neck “besides, yer have me now babe.”

“Really?” You looked up at the ceiling in shock, not even thinking about what all this actually meant. “Like, as a couple?”

Peter nodded gleefully, moving his head away to look up at you with tousled hair and droopy eyes. “Just imagine, i can be your strong, handsome, ladies man, dreamy, seductive, great music taste, badass boyfriend that you can show off to all friends and family.” You laughed at his dreamy sigh, caressing your fingers into his hair.

“Seductive?” You question, your teasing smirk letting him know you were only joking around. “I would hardly compare you to Patrick Swayze.”

Peter gasped overdramatically, his hand quickly removing itself from your thigh, clenching it by his chest as if he were heartbroken. “Babe, have you seen my smoulder? The chicks faint at the sight.” You turn to look at him, only to see him adorning a quirked eyebrow and a theatrical smoulder not-so-gracefully embellishing his face.

You snort, using the hand in his hair to push Peter’s head back into your neck.

“The fact you just referred to women as ‘chicks’ only proves my point, Maxipad.” You say after a brief pause, only to be met with light snoring as Peter’s eyes closed, his arms wrapped around your middle and legs intertwined with your own.

You bit your lip from cheerfulness, relishing in the moment as your arms curl up by his chest, comforted by the heat radiating off his body.

It was the same cuddling as when his leg was broken, only the air had changed to that of intimacy, a warm buzzing feeling in your chest.

So yes, you had found something to do this weekend.

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