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quickandsilvers · 5 months

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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

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frankenkyle19 · 5 months

Text

The Twinkie Thief

Peter Maximoff x fan!reader smut

word count: 8.4k!!

warnings/description: Smut, handjobs, oral (male and fem receiving), Use of peter’s powers in bed, hair pulling, begging, Peter being a cocky brat, teasing. Reader hosts a college party and a certain speedster stops by trying to steal some twinkies… Enjoy!

You’d been planning this party for months. Well- okay not months, maybe like… a few weeks, but in your defense it sure felt longer than that. It was your first time hosting a college party, despite being in your third year. You shared an apartment with three of your friends just off of campus. Having roommates wasn’t always great, but it made the rent cheap and that obviously made it well worth it. You were a broke college student and you definitely didn’t make enough money to rent your own apartment. It was a three level house. With a main floor, an upstairs, and a downstairs. The basement had been transformed into a little hangin’ cave where you were currently setting up the chips and drinks for the party, trying to distract yourself and keep your buzzing nerves at bay.

Doritos, pretzels, tortilla chips and salsa, various sodas and punch as well as alcohol sat on the table. Beer, vodka, all the cheap shit you could buy at the nearest gas station. It didn’t need to be good, college kids didn’t care for good alcohol, they just needed it to get them drunk. Especially at a party.

You weren’t sure who all would come to the party and a bubble of anxiety slowly built up inside you. What if no one showed up? Currently you were home alone because your roommates were all out doing their own thing and would be coming home much later. That’s why you had decided to have the party, but now? What if some creepy pervert dude was the first to arrive and you were forced to hang out with him until the next person came? You tried your best to ignore the screaming in the back of your mind as you finished setting up, taking a handful of chips to eat as you made your way back up the stairs.

The house was modern and sparsely decorated but still homey. You’d luckily put away anything valuable or breakable because god forbid something gets broken.

As time went on you came to the realization that maybe this wasn’t the best idea… but it was too late to go back now. Surely it’d be fine. How bad could it be?

You finished the handful of chips right as the first knock of the night sounded through the house, causing you to jump a bit before making your way towards the door, just praying it wasn’t some creep.

And luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a group of three younger college girls, all smiling brightly the second the door was open. They didn’t say much to you as they scurried inside the house, out of the cold as they shivered a bit. They led themselves downstairs, talking amongst themselves and not really paying you any mind at all. Wow. Kinda rude.

Soon the pace started picking up and in no time the basement was full of chatter and bodies as people laughed and drank, talking about the latest gossip.

You’d long since abandoned your post at the door, figuring people would let themselves in, and they did exactly that.

You had made your way downstairs, a drink in hand as you looked at the crowd. It was a good turnout, nearly every corner of the dimly lit room was occupied by groups of people talking about one thing or another, sipping from solo cups and snacking on mini pretzels and Doritos. The sight had you smiling. This was going exactly how you wanted it.

To be honest, you weren’t a super social person but one thing you did enjoy was people watching. So seeing all the different people here made for a fun activity. Hearing whispers of conversations, not able to make out much as other noises drowned out the words into a jumbled mess of sounds. You were planning on just sitting in a corner, sipping your drink for the rest of the night as you kept a close eye on the party goers, making sure they didn’t break anything.

That’s how it went for a few hours. You sipped at your drink, going in and out of the basement to get refills on chips and ice for the drinks every so often. Overall, it was a success.

On one of these trips upstairs to get a break from the crowd and the noise, you caught the shadow of what appeared to be a man in your kitchen. Unease settled over you like a dark storm cloud as you crept closer to the kitchen, back up against the wall as you swallowed hard, heartbeat uneven and frantic.

You knew it was most likely someone from the party who had either gotten there late, or had snuck upstairs. Maybe he needed a break. Just like you. But the idea of a random man in your kitchen, which, keep in mind, was dark, made you uneasy.

You crept to the entrance of the kitchen, hand moving slowly towards the light switch, ready to bolt back downstairs if you were in any danger.

The man froze when you flicked the light on, bathing him in the yellow light. And that’s when you saw it..

It wasn’t some random creeper that had snuck into your kitchen and was waiting for everyone else to leave so he could like- kill you-

It was a certain silver haired mutant superhero that you may or may not have had a small (huge) obsession with.

Peter Maximoff… aka Quicksilver.

Okay rewind- what in the fresh hell was Peter Maximoff doing in your kitchen?

You both just stood still, staring at each other unblinking, each waiting for the other to say or do something.

Peter had an armful of little, wrapped cake snacks that had been quite literally stolen from your pantry, giving you a shy, remorseful smile.

“Uh… Hi-” Peter said, swallowing hard as he set the snacks on the counter with an embarrassing grin.

You just blinked a few times, unable to think of any words. What does someone say in this situation? When a literal superhero was stealing snacks from your kitchen. Nothing in your life had ever prepared you for this..

“I- Hi?” You said, an eyebrow quirked as you took in the look of the man in front of you. Yup it really was him. Not just some creep dressed as him. He was the real deal.

“You can uh- you can take anything you want… Mr. Maximoff” You said with a shy smile, playing with your hands as you tried to keep calm.

Peter blinked in surprise. Oh. So you knew exactly who he was. Great. Of course you did. That made this even more embarrassing. A superhero sneaking into a party to steal some cake snacks? He would never live this down if anyone else found out.

“No I just- uh- was just- organizing… the pantry. It was a bit messy..” he said, trying to lie his way out of the situation.

“Mhm. Yeah okay.” You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head. You didn’t believe that lie for one second and the thought of a silver haired speedster trying to get away with a lie despite being caught red (silver?) handed made you chuckle.

“Okay okay ya got me- I’m a thief-“ he raised his hands over his head in surrender, sighing in defeat. The gig was up.

You raised a brow, watching him curiously. He was so… Down to earth? You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t that. He didn’t act like a famous person… he just acted… Normal. Maybe you were a bit naive as to what someone like Peter should act like, but he was definitely much different than what you had imagined. In a good way of course.

And it didn’t help with your obsession with him. You almost wanted him to be rude or full of himself. It’d be easier to get over this little (big) obsession with him. But no. Of course he had to be perfect.

“It’s okay- if you want one you can have it- really-“ you said, taking a few more steps into the kitchen, the background music from downstairs making the silence between the two of you seem not so awkward.

Peter didn’t waste any time after that. He snatched a Twinkie off the counter and unwrapped it before shoving half of it into his mouth, some of the cream smearing on the sides of his mouth. If it was anyone else, it would be kinda gross, but because it was him, it was endearing.

“So why exactly are you… Here?” You asked and Peter held up a finger to signal to let him finish chewing the snack cake before he began to explain.

“I heard about a party goin’ on here and thought hey, I’m sure there’s snacks. So I came. And I was right.” He shook the other half of the Twinkie that was in his hands before shoving it into his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the trash can and wiping off his fingers on his silver jacket.

“Okay but the party is downstairs-“

“I didn’t think you’d mind if I just took a few.” He interrupted, already on his way to opening another hostess snack.

He was bold. Very bold. And pretty cocky too. A drastic change from how he was acting just a few minutes ago. All shy and apologetic. Was that just a hoax? A trick?

“I mean- I don’t- but it’s not just every day when I get a superhero in my kitchen.”

“So you rent this place? It’s pretty bangin’ I gotta say.”

“I have roommates. But they aren’t here right now.” Why did that sound so suggestive? Jesus Christ…

Peter nodded, looking around the kitchen and examining it now that the light was on, leaning against the marble counter.

“So this is your party then I take it?” He asked, eyebrow quirked as he turned back to face you. It was weird making eye contact with the speedster just because you never expected to actually be this close to him.

“Mhm, my first college party actually..” you said a bit shyly. He was trying to keep up a conversation with you… but why? Did he actually care? Possibly?

“First?”

“Well the first one I’ve hosted I mean- I’ve- I’ve been to lots of parties before-“ you paused “not like a lot a lot! I’m not like a crazy party person- I have…” you wanted to bang your head against the wall.

“I’ve gone to the normal amount of parties that a college person does.” You said, a blush dusting over your cheeks. Way to embarrass yourself in front of your crush. Your superhero crush at that…

“Coolio- and hey, between us, I don’t judge. I like party girls.” Peter winked.

Your brain has just short circuited. Either you were delusional or the man was flirting with you. The way he winked? There was no way.

You gawked at him for a moment before chuckling “yeah, hah… parties are pretty fun- you go to them often?” You asked curiously, trying to not be so fucking awkward.

“Eh, depends. When I’m free I usually just zoom in to steal some snacks- which was exactly what I was doing before you caught me.”

“Okay well the party snacks are downstairs. At the party.” You said, sarcasm dripping from your tone and it caused Peter to grin. He liked your attitude. Feisty. Just the way he liked his women. Not that he… No.. He totally wasn’t attracted to some random quicksilver fan.. Not at all. There had to be some sort of moral rule against that.

Except… He was. He was totally and utterly attracted to you.

Holy shit. He was truly and utterly fucked. Done for. Game is up, time to go- before he royally ruined this whole interaction.

But yet, he couldn’t get his mouth to just shut up.

“Y’know what, I like ya. You’re down to earth, chill. Totally unfazed that I’m in yer kitchen right now.”

You shook your head, looking up to meet his eye and trying not to get too lost in his sweet syrupy brown gaze.

“Well I mean- I am- I’m just good at hiding it.” You admitted, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear, an obvious thing you did when you were nervous.

Peter subtly, with his super speed, looked you over, trying not to make it too obvious that he was staring, but who wouldn’t? You were… Geesh words couldn’t even describe the way Peter felt when he saw you. His literal dream girl, and you were interested in him? At least wanting to talk to him… not like… romantically or anything crazy like that.

But you were. You were both acting pretty dumb at the moment, dancing around the sexual tension that literally anyone could cut with a knife. How did it happen that the two of you were so damn oblivious? It’s like the universe was holding up a big sign that said “Fuck Already!” And somehow the two of you were both blind.

Peter stretched his hands over his head, revealing a sliver of silver hairs that led under his waistband to-

No. You needed to get your mind out of the gutter. There was no way Quicksilver out of anyone was going to fuck you. No way. Not in a million years.

Peter zipped around the kitchen and for a moment you thought he’d left, until the breeze and silver settled and you saw him, now much closer than he was before.

He was uncomfortably close, but you were… Okay with it. In fact you wanted him close to you. It had made your heartbeat speed up in your chest and your cheeks reden.

You felt his breath on your neck and it made your hair stand on end, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as you turned to face him.

He was taller than you, but your faces were only several inches apart, the feeling of his breath hit you, the leftover smell of the Twinkie he’d devoured a few minutes ago hitting your nose.

You blinked a few times, unsure of what to do or what to say. I mean… What do you do in a situation like this? You’d never experienced it before and doubted you ever would again.

Peter glanced down at you, unblinking as he watched you before he spoke up

“Want a drink?” He asked, swallowing hard as he gestured to the rest of the alcohol that you hadn’t brought down to the party yet.

The tension was getting impossibly thicker between the two of you, a heat seeming to fall off of Peter in thick waves, filling the air. It was addicting.

You nodded, still not speaking as you watched him zip back around the kitchen, barely able to make out his outline as bottles shifted and moved from their places.

He was so… Interesting and you wondered what it was like to be able to move that fast. Did he have full control over it? Did he sometimes go too fast? Had he ever hurt himself by speeding around the way he did? These were all questions you longed to be answered but were too shy to ask.

A few more seconds of him zooming around the kitchen and he was next to you again, holding a drink in either hand. You weren’t really sure what was in it, but you trusted he hadn’t done anything suspicious. I mean he was a superhero- superheroes didn’t like- drug drinks… Right?

“Here, it’s a sex on the beach- or well, my attempt at one. You didn’t have all the ingredients so I had to substitute a few things.”

By a few things did he mean everything? You’d had plenty of these drinks before and none of them ever looked the way the drink he held out to you did. It looked (smelled) like the only ingredient the two drinks had in common was vodka.

Still, you took the glass from him and smiled, taking a sip. It wasn’t horrible, he hadn’t added a lot of alcohol so it was mostly a mixer, but still you’d had plenty worse before.

He sipped his own drink, watching you over the rim of the glass, waiting to see how you’d react.

“Decent.” You shrugged, taking another sip.

Peter laughed in disbelief “Just decent babe? Wow, I’m offended.” He placed a hand on his heart dramatically and shook his head.

You were about to laugh when it dawned on you what he’d called you just now. Babe. Uhm.. pause. What? Why had he called you that? Did he call everyone that? Surely he did… Don’t get your hopes up so quickly. He was just being friendly.

You ignore it, giving him a friendly smile before taking another sip of your drink. Maybe it’d be nice to get drunk but you’d surely make a fool of yourself. You were already well on the way to doing that.

“So- you were really just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by?” You asked, swirling the remaining drink around, watching it slosh inside the glass.

Peter set his drink down on the counter, leaning against it as he nodded “Yup, could tell it was a party from a mile off so I decided to see what was goin’ on. Glad I did, you’re good company.” He grinned.

“I was honestly having a pretty boring night before you got here.” You admitted, setting your own half finished drink down close to his before glancing back at him. You were beginning to let your guard down and it made Peter smile.

“Aw I'm flattered that I’m the reason you’re havin’ a good time now.” He grinned, full of himself and cocky as ever.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around the kitchen.

“So uh- m’not usually like this but-“ He was blushing again… Quicksilver was blushing because of you? What was he trying to say that made his cheeks turn the color of ripe tomatoes?

“I’m catchin’ a vibe off ya. Y’know the whole fan thing- I just-“ He shook his head, bringing a hand down over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. Dammit Quickie, ruined it again from your big mouth.

At least… He thought he’d ruined it, and was so distracted by embarrassment that he hadn’t even noticed you’d stepped closer to him, standing right in front of him and staring up at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’m giving off that vibe-“ you took a deep breath and decided to continue, making a bolder choice of words. It was now or never.

“Not everyday you meet the person you dream about fucking every night.” You were only half teasing him, hoping you’d be able to play it off as a joke if it went the wrong way.

Peter’s eyes were wide as he stared down at you and finally he made a good choice that night, leaning down to capture your lips with his own.

It took you several seconds to process but when you did, you nearly squealed with joy.

He tasted sweet like twinkies and just… Him. There was no other way to explain it really.

You kissed back for several seconds before pulling away to look up at him, eyes wide.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, glancing around the room once more to make sure no one had walked in on the two of you.

Peter, unbothered, leaned down to capture your lips once more, never wanting to stop kissing you. He deepened the kiss, a hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, a quiet moan slipping from his lips which caused him to blush even further.

He pulled you closer to him, a bit of urgency in his movements as he panted against your lips, worked up from the slightest bit of kissing.

“Quicksilver- n-not here we can’t. There’s people downstairs-“ you said, a surprised gasp leaving your throat as he started to plant kisses to your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist to lock you in place.

“Tell ‘em to go. I need ya-“ he said, nipping ever so slightly at your collarbone as his hips connected with yours, his hard on brushing your leg.

“Okay okay okay slow down- is this really happening?” You asked, Peter never once stopping his assault on your neck, leaving marks that would surely result in bruises the next day.

“So fuckin’ real baby. I want it- if you do too-“ He added, his hands adventuring up the small of your back in an attempt to explore more of your body.

“Ya tellin’ me you don’t wanna clown around with yer favorite superhero?” He breathed against your neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, wanting to memorize this moment.

“I do! I do want to- very very badly I just-there’s so many people downstairs- I don’t know what to do about that.” You said, reveling in the way his hot breath fanned across your skin.

“I’ve got an idea-“ He mumbled “just tell ‘em the cops are coming and they gotta clear out. Easy peasy baby, then we got the whole place to ourselves.” He grinned against your skin, much too eager for this.

“You think that’ll work?”

��Worth a shot at least.” He shrugged, groaning as you pulled away from him to face the basement door, ready to barge down there and tell everyone to leave. You’d do whatever you needed to to get Peter alone.

Peter, as impatient as he was, didn’t wait for you to handle it and instead zoomed downstairs in a blur and several moments later people were running up the stairs, drinks in hand, obviously caught up in the moment and not expecting the news that police were going to be there any second.

The last person up the stairs was Peter himself, grinning from ear to ear, obviously proud that his plan had worked and the two of you were now alone. The second the last guest had scurried out the door, the threat of police crashing the party more than enough to get their drunk asses moving, peter pulled you into a bruising kiss, arching his hips against yours to try and get any desperately needed friction on his aching cock confined in the fabric prison that was his pants and boxers. He’d never wanted to be naked more in his entire life. Okay- maybe he had- but right now he felt as if he hadn’t.

Your tongues fought for dominance and you inevitably won, backing Peter up against the kitchen counter before sinking to your knees. You were not wasting a second. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and with just how fast Peter moved, you weren’t sure how long you’d realistically have him here for. How often did you get to meet your idol and fuck him? The thought made your head spin. Like holy shit? Holy fucking shit.

“Woahhh mama-“ Peter ran a large hand over his face, his dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes were nearly black as he watched you, his brain still trying to grasp the situation in which he was in. A quicksilver fan getting on their knees in front of him? Holy shit, someone pinch him. There was just no way this was actually happening. Like in all the years of his life he had never experienced something like this. Despite what some may think, Peter didn’t get laid a lot. He either didn’t have the time, or didn’t have the charm. And he was sure that realistically, this could have some serious repercussions.. Having sex with a fan? There weren’t any laws against that, right? Right? Fuck it, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Especially not with how eager you were.

You pulled his pants down to his knees, instantly scooting closer and mouthing over the cotton of his boxers, your tongue tracing the large length of him as he mewled above you pathetically. He was hot against you as you nuzzled your cheek against the length of him, a string of pre-cum leaked through his boxers and stained your cheek with a sticky, opaque fluid.

“Holy shit- can’t believe this is actually happening to me right now-“ he mumbled, hands going behind him to clutch the cold, marble counter his back was up against. Thank god for it. His legs were so shaky he was barely able to keep himself up and the embarrassing thing was you hadn’t even really done anything yet. Keep it together dude.

You pulled his boxers down in one quick motion, his cock springing to full attention now that it had been freed. He was hard as a rock, twitching and throbbing red, pre-cum spilling from the tip as it bobbed in the air, right in front of your face. Peter inhaled sharply at the cold air against his bare cock, but the second your warm hand wrapped around him? He was a goner. Total goner. Like thank the gods above? It felt sooo fucking good. Like… Too good.

“O-oh geez-“ He involuntarily jutted his hips into your touch, causing his cock to slide through the tight grip of your fingers with how slick it had become.

You made eye contact with the speedster above you before leaning closer, licking over the head of his cock, collecting the pearl of pre-cum that had leaked from the slit, dripping down the side.

He was salty and a bit bitter, but the sheer fact that you were getting to taste the Peter Maximoff’s cock made any disgust you may have initially had fly right out the damn window.

Peter’s knees buckled the slightest bit, thighs quivering as he watched you with a kind of intensity and focus he didn’t even know he possessed. So he could focus. Just… only on things he really wanted to. Hah… As long as you didn’t tell any of the other X-men that.

You continued your exploration of the speedy mutant's cock, pressing gentle feather light kisses to the head of his cock, which you soon learned was extremely sensitive.

“Mmm- please! Gentle! It’s so sensitive, baby!” He yelped, writhing in place as his knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the countertop.

You ignored his requests, wanting to see just how worked up you could get him, your tongue tracing around the bulbous head several times before dipping into the slit, causing Peter to wince in overstimulation. You took this as a sign to pull back a bit, instead taking the whole tip into your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop, flattening your tongue on the underside as you hummed.

Peter spiraled even more. The way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you suckled on his cock? When was he going to wake up? Because there was just really no way that this was actually happening. It had to be a dream.

“A-mmgh- shit-“ he groaned out, running a hand through his now damp with sweat silver hair, slicking it back in a way that was more attractive than you’d like to admit.

You slowly took more of him into your mouth, inhaling through your nose so you didn’t choke, and soon enough you had fully engulfed him before pulling back, gagging a bit as the tip hit the back of your throat. A string of spit connected your lips to the head of his cock and Peter nearly came right then and there at the sight, hips subconsciously humping the air as he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing.

“God baby- this is so fucking unbelievably good- god damn-“ he panted, babbling words as his hips arched upwards in search of your mouth once more. You pulled back from him completely, watching as his throbbing red cock bobbed in the air between you two, desperate and aching for whatever you planned to do next.

Peter inhaled a deep breath, straightening up a bit as he got a better grip on the counter, some of his damp silver hair falling back over his forehead.

Coming back to stroke him with your hand, Peter’s hips jerked once more, biting his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet, despite not needing to. It was just the two of you alone in the house. He could be as loud as he wanted.

“Really? That’s all ya got, speedy? Tiny little whimpers? C’mon I want to hear more.” You surprised yourself with your boldness, and it obviously surprised Peter too by the way that he nodded, letting his lip fall from between his teeth as a pleasured sigh left him. It was finally sinking in that this was really happening to him. He was getting head from a super mega quickie fan. And damn you were good at it. Too good. Or maybe Peter was just that desperate. It was honestly a little embarrassing but you obviously didn’t care so he didn’t either.

You stroked him with increasing speed, thumbing gently over the tip and collecting the pre-cum on the pad of your thumb before bringing it up to your lips and licking off the glossy liquid. Peter groaned, cursing under his breath at the sight below him, a hand coming to brush through your hair gently, giving him something to do to keep his hands busy.

“Can’t believe this is happening. I’m actually getting to do this to the Quicksilver-“ You shook your head, still in a state of disbelief

“Y’can call me Peter y’know- please-“ He chuckled breathily, hand still gripping your hair as he tried to subconsciously pull your head closer to his length, a quiet mumbled plea coming from his red lips. Okay. Noted. Peter.

“More- please? Feels so good, baby- feels so fucking great-“ He pleaded with you, giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes. You didn’t take him for a begger, but you were definitely not complaining. And of course who were you to deny him? He did so much good for the world, he’d literally helped save it multiple times, hadn’t he? He deserved this, plus, his taste was addicting. Manly and a bit salty in a way that had your pussy throbbing in your underwear.

You took him into your mouth again, suckling on the tip before going further once more, suctioning your lips around his length, dragging your tongue on the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent vein that was found there.

Peter tossed his head back once more, closing his eyes as he moaned, this time a bit louder than before. It made you smile around his cock.

You continued your exploration of his cock, bobbing your head up and down before focusing on the tip for a few moments and then repeating over and over and over-

Peter was growing increasingly worked up, chest heaving up and down heavily, cock beginning to twitch in your mouth as you gagged on him, tearing up as you inhaled through your nose.

“I’m close! F-fuck!” He groaned out, hips bucking farther into your mouth as he gripped your hair a bit tighter, causing you to let out a whine and choke even more around him, tears falling onto your cheeks, mascara smudging under your eyes as you swallowed around him.

That was all he needed to cum hard down your throat in heavy ropes of thick white, his hips jutting forward harshly, causing him to slide even further into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck! Shitttt!” He cursed, gasping as he shuddered, thighs shaking as he fought to keep himself up right. Damn. He hadn’t came that hard in… Well he couldn’t even remember when. But it had been a long time. Too long.

You pulled back, the biggest gag yet coming from you, the feeling of his cock so deep in your throat and his cum filling the back of your mouth causing you to retch. You held onto his thighs as you tried to catch your breath, wheezing heavily, head bowed as you attempted to swallow all his release. Dear god, he came a lot. Maybe it had something to do with his mutant powers, or maybe it was just the fact that he came a lot. Either way it amazed you.

Once Peter caught his own breath and calmed down enough to come back to his senses, he glanced down at you with a worried look, watching you attempt to catch your breath.

“Shit- you okay? Sorry I- kinda lost control- I’m so sorry-“ he apologized, worried he’d ruined the whole moment by not being able to control his damn hips. A crimson flush covered his cheeks as he looked away, embarrassed. Great. His one chance to get laid had been ruined by his actions. Like everything else in his life.

“Peter-“ your voice was a bit hoarse as you swallowed hard, wiping the corners of your mouth as you stood up, dusting off your thighs as you cupped his cheek.

Peter’s attention was on you again in an instant, tilting his head ever so slightly into your palm. Peter was touch starved. Extremely so, but it was something he wouldn’t ever admit. Not that he really needed to, it was pretty obvious.

“I’m okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. It was actually really fucking hot. Watching you lose control like that.” You blushed softly at your own words, giving him a shy smile despite being so bold in your previous actions.

Peter was quiet for several moments and if anyone walked in on the two of you right then, they’d see you standing in front of Peter, and Peter, pants down, leaning against the countertop as he stared at you longingly.

“Uh- anyway I can return the favor?” He asked, large hands coming to hold your hips, a subtle buzz seeming to come from his body. Specifically from his hands. It made you shiver, your already wet panties seeming to soak even more at his words that were dripping with lust. You were much too curious about those hands of his and what they could do. Especially with that power…

You pulled him into a kiss, practically jumping on him as he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you made out with the silver haired man. Honestly, if someone came up to you and told you this was how this night was going to end, you wouldn’t believe it. Not one bit, but the fact that it was actually happening? That this wasn’t a dream? You were fucking around with someone you were quite honestly obsessed with? It made your head spin.

He stumbled down the hall, kicking his feet out of his pants and boxers as he held onto you tightly, his blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass as he brought you to your bedroom. You weren’t sure how exactly he knew which one was yours, and chalked it up to him snooping around when he first got here. His superspeed made things like that easy.

He practically tossed you onto the bed, kissing any inch of your exposed skin before he pulled your shirt off, laughing a bit as it briefly got stuck around your neck before it was thrown… Somewhere. It’s location wasn’t important right now when you had Peter right in front of you.

Peter’s eyes zoned into the way your breasts bounced with each laugh of yours, looking so totally perfect in the black bra you were wearing.

“Sorry- obviously didn’t think this was gonna happen tonight so it’s not special or anything-“ you said, speaking about the bra.

Peter scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief “you kidding? Have you seen yourself? God you’re a masterpiece. Really-“ His hands came up to cup your breasts in each palm over your bra and you mewled lightly at the contact.

“Peterrr'' you groaned, wriggling around underneath him. Your words seemed to snap him out of his boob induced trance and he refocused once more. Eye on the prize, Peter. The prize just so being the beautiful mound between your legs. Well, Peter didn’t really know that it was beautiful since you were still wearing pants, but he could just tell. Maybe another, more secret super power he had? Or just common sense.

Peter, ever the speedster sped your jeans down your legs and off your body before you could even blink, settling comfortably between your thighs before tossing his own shirt off. Finally, Peter was fully naked and you were pretty close to being so as well.

“So uh I won’t say I’m like.. A master or anything but I’d like to return the favor. Like I said.” Peter's eyes were dark as he slid further down the bed before he was face to face with your sopping wet panties.

He brushed the pads of his fingers against the wet fabric, shocked that he’d had that effect on you. Holy shit, you were this wet for him?

The second he touched you, you closed your eyes, tossing your head back. You weren’t sure if you just really needed to be laid, or if it was the fact that it was Peter Maximoff barely touching you that got you going. Either way, you were desperate and didn’t plan on waiting much longer.

“Please don’t tease-“ You breathed out, already out of breath as you watched him, begging for him to just do something already! This was torture! Why was he going so slow!

Peter sensed your need and decided it’d be rude to tease. Especially considering how generous you’d been with the blowjob in the kitchen. Something he certainly wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. He pulled your panties to the side, nearly drooling at the sight of your pussy right in front of him.

He licked his lips, swallowing his excess drool as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of the small black panties and pulling them slowly down your legs.

Your breathing increased exponentially when he tossed them off your legs and spread your thighs wider to give him better access to you.

Blushing in embarrassment, you weren’t able to meet Peter’s eye. This was really happening? You were about to be eaten out by The Quicksilver-

That was mind blowing to you, just like the rest of the night had been. You’d have to host more college parties in the future if this is what you got in return.

A subtle buzzing had started on your thighs, slowly creeping closer to your core and you soon realized it was Peter’s fingertips, buzzing gently as they crept closer and closer to where you needed him most.

You opened your mouth to beg again but any words you had died in your throat as his nose brushed against your clit, causing a sharp burst of pleasure to run up your spine.

“Ahhhh Quicksilver- Peter-“ you quickly corrected yourself, remembering he had said you could call him that. That he in fact wanted you to.

Peter grinned at your response to the slightest touch, brushing his nose across your folds again before blowing a cold burst of air over your core that caused you to shiver.

“Stop!” You suddenly shouted, a pout set on your lips “stop teasing me! Please! I didn’t do this to you! This isn’t fair!”

“Who ever said anything about me playing fair, baby? I mean me? Fair? Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.”

This cocky side of Peter was hot, but you also found it hot that the hunger in his eyes never once subsided, a hint of desperation hiding behind his bratty, full of himself demeanor.

He did eventually decide that maybe he was being too mean with his teasing and finally let his lips brush against your clit, his tongue flicking across the hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth gently, humming the whole time.

Your body seized in pleasure, trying not to crush him between your thighs as he played with you to his heart's content.

He began to finally eat you out the way he should have all along, messy and fast, making sure to give extra attention to your puffy clit.

Your back was arched and your eyes were closed, head thrown back against your pillows. Your chest heaved heavily with each brush of his tongue against your core, a pleasure building up in your belly so fast that despite him only being at it for a few minutes, you were already embarrassingly close.

And that sense of being close was only amplified when Peter, cocky sex god he was, brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it before he began to vibrate that thumb, a dull buzzing sound filling your ears.

You had barely any time to warn him of your impending release before your toes were curling and your thighs tightened around his silver head of hair, locking him in tightly.

Peter smirked against you, letting you ride through your orgasm before pulling away from you, his lips shimmering with your release.

He quickly licked them clean, grinning from ear to ear as he crawled over you, pulling you into a kiss.

You panted against his lips before finally kissing back, taking a fist full of his hair and yanking ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt him by any means.

You didn’t expect the reaction that followed. Peter whimpered, leaning into the touch as he bucked his hips against you ever so slightly, his hard on brushing the plush of your thighs.

You grinned against his lips, nipping at his bottom lip gently, running your hands through his hair a bit more.

He pulled away just a bit to meet your eye, his own blown wide, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he swallowed hard.

“You got like- y’know- a condom?” He asked, a blush covering his cheeks. Sweet boy. Still shy even after everything the two of you had done so far.

“Like I mean-“ he continued, blabbering on, “My pull out game is pretty good- I’m fast-“ he laughed at his choice of words. Of course he was fast, that was his whole thing.

“But it’d be nice just in case- to not have to worry about it, y’know? Just bask in the moment. Plus it’d be pretty hot to cum inside. Even with a condom.” He shivered at the thought, cock twitching and oh so ready to be inside of you.

You laughed softly and reached over into your bedside drawer, rifling around for a few seconds before you found what you were looking for, pulling your hand back and showing off the shiny package to Peter.

He went to grab it from you but you pulled it away, shaking your head “can I put it on?” You asked, looking him over.

Peter seemingly got even more shy at that, blushing harder as he nodded “yeah- yeah course ya can, mhm that’s fine that’s-“ You cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheek gently.

“You don’t do this often do you?” You asked, running the pad of your thumb across his cheek, hot to the touch from how hard he was blushing.

He shook his head in embarrassment. God, Quicksilver himself didn’t get around, despite how much he wanted it. It just… Didn't happen. Nothing he could do about it really. It wasn’t for lack of trying, so when you seemed so eager, he was more than ready to get down with you.

You ripped the condom out of its wrapper with your teeth and Peter thought it was the hottest thing ever, eyes wide as he watched you, completely mesmerized. There was just something about you that seemed to draw him in.

You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him slowly as he let his hips gently buck into the feeling, burying his face in your shoulder.

You continued like that for a few moments, enjoying the way Peter’s body shivered against your own and how his moans and whines got increasingly more desperate.

You brought the condom to the tip of his cock and slowly rolled it down, making sure it was on correctly before giving him a few more firm strokes.

Peter groaned against you, pulling from your neck to look you over. You’d never expected that this could be so gentle, especially with someone you really didn’t know.

“You can put it in, baby.” You whispered, wondering if that’s what he was waiting for. Confirmation. Proof that you actually did really want this as much as he did. You definitely did.

He swallowed thickly, heartbeat fluttering heavy in his chest as he positioned himself at your entrance, letting the head of his cock slide against your slit a few times, causing the both of you to moan softly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go further, unable to wait anymore. The idea of him inside you made your breath catch in your throat. The Quicksilver was about to be inside of you. Peter.

Peter Peter Peter was all you could think. This whole time you’d been obsessed with the superhero aspect of the man without really thinking that just him himself could be perfect.

He locked eyes with you as his tip breached your hole, and after that he sunk in easily thanks to your slick. He didn’t stop till he was balls deep inside of you, his lips inches from your own as he panted, adjusting to the warm tight feeling of your walls squeezing around him.

Peter groaned against your skin, hands clenched in the sheets at your sides, trying to steady himself as he let you adjust to his size.

He was big and it was a bit uncomfortable at first but the stretch was more than welcome and you found yourself trying to pull him deeper, needing more than what he was giving you in the moment.

“Peter please-“ you choked out “Need more- I’m ready- please-“

“I’m gonna rock your world, babe.” Was all he said before he thrust into you, finding a nice rhythm that was fast, but not so fast that you couldn’t physically handle it.

You were glad now that the party had ended and the two of you were alone so you could be as loud as you wanted. You took full advantage of that, moaning and clawing at the speedsters back, most definitely leaving marks as his hips slammed against yours.

The drag of his cock inside your thick plush walls had to be one of the best things you’d felt in a long time. He was pretty shy at first you’d have to admit, but he definitely knew what he was doing.

“Peterrr- fuck-“ you gasped, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the mattress, knocking the air from your lungs with each thrust inside of you.

He went so deep you swore you felt him in your stomach and a pleasurable ache began to form in your groin, bubbling into a tingling pleasure that spread through your veins. You knew that feeling all too well. You were close. Already.

You didn’t want it to end so soon though and tried to fight it off. In a desperate attempt at distracting yourself, you pulled Peter into another kiss, nipping his bottom lip which caused him to moan against your mouth, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm.

“My god baby- can’t do that to me- gonna make me lose it-“ He chuckled breathlessly, trying to regain control of himself.

Realizing that he was close too, you smirked, squeezing around him purposely, causing his jaw to drop and the hottest little whines to leave his lips.

“Don’t want this to end- so soon-“ He complained, body begging to buzz with built up energy that was ready to burst.

“Who said it had to end?” You questioned, smirking up at him as you placed one of your hands in his silver hair and pulled on it a bit. Peter let his head fall back, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard.

“Y-yeah? Think you can handle another round?” He asked with a smirk, but was obviously trying to cover up how desperate he was.

You didn’t respond with words, too far gone and basically mindless on his cock at this point as he fucked you within an inch of your life.

You felt the tight band in your stomach snap, euphoric release flooding your system as you clenched around him, a loud moan leaving your parted lips as Peter kissed you, resulting in the two of you really just breathing into the others mouth, too caught up in the moment to focus.

Peter was right behind you, a few more thrusts had him tipping over the edge, stilling inside you and stuffing the condom with his white hot release.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, attempting to catch your breath as Peter leaned over you, muscles flexing as he gripped the blanket before he pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it onto the floor, which you’d yell at him for later. Once you came to your senses.

Peter wrapped you up in his arms, holding you to his chest as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You felt so safe in his arms. It really was a nice feeling and you hoped it’d last.

The two of you fell asleep like that, too tired to have another round that night. You woke up in the morning a bit sore and when you reached for Peter, he was already long gone. You should have expected that.

Sitting up, a bit of disappointment filling you, you saw a quickly scribbled note on a piece of paper that lay on your bedside table. It read:

I had a righteous time with you last night baby. Had to leave earlier than I wanted to, but I obviously know where you live and intend on stopping by again soon. For twinkies of course…

and other things if y’know what I mean- Quickie

#evan peters #evan peters icons #xmen #quicksilver smut #xmen quicksilver #quicksilver #peter maximoff #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #evan peters smut #evan peters fanfic

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jellyluvr · 11 months

Text

Tastes delicious

- Peter maximoff x fem!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

So I'm making peter sub in this one cuz y not. Plus he's definitely not the type to become some daddy so we're going for a sub Peter. No mommy stuff, but there's like typical nicknames. Kinda slow burn

Warnings: sub peter, Dom reader, oral sex, kissing, and actually a little mommy action

Summary: peter is watching a movie with you and there's a scene that gives him a boner.

Word count: 1.6k

(Got gif off pinterest)

Peter was sitting on the couch in the mansion, the lights turned low. It looked pretty gloomy, but your invisibility helped you hide. Peter was watching a 'spicy' movie, which caught your eye. Peter seemed to be enjoying all the kissing and grinding, the bright flashing lights also showing the sexual scenes.

You creeped behind the couch, it sitting in the middle of the lounge, the tv on the wall, a fireplace under it, obviously not lit.

You wanted to stay in there as a secret. You wanted to see what was going to happen, and while peter chomped on his popcorn loudly, the tv also got loud.

But, in a millisecond, peter appeared with a popsicle while he sucked on it. It was about to make you giggle, the way he decided to eat his popsicle.

But now, the scenes were getting a little too much, and it was obvious that peter liked it, a slight, but obvious bulge appearing in his overly tight pants.

You, still hidden in the shadows, finally decided to lean on the couch, it making a squeak noise from it being leather. Peter turned his head immediately, seeing the indent in the couch, no person.

He immediately knew it was you, you were the only one that had invisibility. His face turned a pink color while he looked at you, the movie still playing.

"Hey y/n..." he smiled sheepishly while you showed yourself finally.

"Hi Peter." You smiled back before finding a place on the couch next to him. It was clearly too close for comfort, but peter didn't say anything. Bless his innocent soul.

You were aware of his boner. His very obvious boner. But, it became even more noticeable when you sat down next to him. He didn't do much, he just sat there and continued to watch the movie, you watching his pants instead.

You were wearing a skimpy skirt, 'small as a belt' and a camisole with white lace. You liked wearing white, it brought out the whole invisibility thing. Plus it gave you the nickname ghost. Or ghosty.

But, unfortunately for peter, your skirt was too much for him. For his little goofy brain to comprehend. Yeah, he watched porny movies, but he never tried to do things with girls. It wasn't like he had a chance anyway.

The silence was thick. The only thing in the room making noise was the tv, oddly lewd noises coming from it.

But, the silence broke with you.

"Can you pass me the popcorn please?" You fluttered your eyes at him. Why did you sound so.. seductive..? It was all peter could think about. He didn't even register what you had asked.

"Or don't.. that's okay too." You chuckled lightly before moving your hand over his lap, purposely touching his sensitive boner. He let out a whimper in response. And a cute plea.

"H-hey!..." he said, looking down at your hand. You just giggled slightly.. "what?" You knew exactly what, but it was better to act clueless.

Peter was clearly flustered by this, his face red and his boner almost twitching. The tight restraints of his pants held that back, only making his boner more painful.

Grabbing the popcorn, you placed it on your lap before eating some, making sure to keep peter in view the whole time. You took peice by peice, placing it in your mouth slowly.

"What are you watching anyway? This movie sucks." You reached over to take the remote, not touching his boner this time. He was obviously flustered, he needed touch. His hips even jolted up when you reached your hand over again.

"It's uhm.. nothing. Just change it.. it's fine.." he said, his voice soft and quiet. That was unusual for him. Most of the time he'd be beaming with pride. Now his pride was the equivalent to a squashed berry. Or bug.

"Nothing? Really?" You teased, poking him jokingly. He didn't react, he was still hot, his body acting like a furnace.

"Mhm. Maybe we just shouldn't watch a movie.." he said, still acting like he had been traumatized or something.

"So what do you suggest?" You placed the remote down, also moving the popcorn over.

"No.. I know just the thing actually." You smiled, peter now even more afraid.

And it all made sense when you moved over right onto his lap. He let out a soft gasp, your clothed cunt rubbing right on his boner.

"What..?" He asked his hands staying on the couch, gripping into them slightly.

"What?" You teased again before grabbing one of peters large hands and placing it right on your chest.

"This is okay, right?" You asked. Even though this had all been really sudden, you still asked for his consent even though you knew it'd be yes.

He only nodded, his eyes staring at your chest. You giggled a bit, putting your hands on his shoulders before kissing him lightly.

It had started out sweet and slow, but over the time peter got comfortable and let his tongue enter your mouth. The two of you pulled from the breathy kiss, you smiling and peter just panting, his face a cherry red.

Your hands traveled down his chest before stopping right at the button of his jeans. Before you could even say anything, he said it first.

"Y-yes.." he pushed out, his hands moving down to your waist and rubbing slightly there.

Your smile stayed while you unbuttoned his restraints, his baggy boxers popping out. You pulled his pants down to his knees before placing your fingertips over the little wet spot, stained with precum on his boxers.

"Such a pretty boy.." you rubbed his tip through the fabric while he squirmed a bit, his grip on your waist tightening.

He hummed while you teased him, his hips rolling into your thumb and finger.

"Patience hun.." you purred, letting your fingers travel along his length. He jolted his hips up again, whimpering as you touched him.

"Please..." he cried and you finally moved your hand up to the waistband of his boxers.

"Please what? Use your words, baby." You looked up at him, your finger playing with the waistband. Peters fingers rubbed into your waist while he looked down, huffing a breath.

"Please, momma.." he was desperate for touch clearly. And you had to be good to him, he deserved a little reward, after all.

"Good boy." You praised, letting your fingers go down to touch his rough silver bush, then to his piping hot shaft.

You moved the boxers down more, letting his cock spring free, it letting some pre cum drip out. His tip was a rosey pink, his veins active.

He let out little moans when you touched him, them being perfect in every way. The sounds he let out when you rubbed your thumb over his tip made you feel a little spark in your stomach.

"Mmm.." he moaned, his hips rolling a bit to feel more of your touch. You didn't mind, you just wanted him to feel good.

Your hand slipped down his length, feeling every vein and pulse in him, hearing ever moan and whimper.

All of it got you worked up too, but peter was more worked up.

You moved your hand up and down at a steady pace, his pre cum acting as a sweet lubricant.

But, your hand went quicker with no warning. Peter bit his lip but noises still seeped out.

And peter became a mess. Like melting butter in your hands.

His hips jolted up again, but went down as you pulled your hand off. He was about to say something before you stuck your mouth on his tip, your tongue swirling around skillfully.

His breath hitched and whatever he was about to say became letters on a fridge. All scrambled and incoherent.

He couldn't help but let a moan slip when you tucked your tongue under his shaft and began bobbing your head. His tip hit the back of your throat, you gagging a little.

Drool seeped down his shaft, it making him squirm a bit more.

"OooOoh!~" he moaned, his hands grabbing onto your hair tight. His short fingernails dug into your scalp as you sucked, pulling off and slurping a bit before returning to your previous position.

It drove peter crazy. The way you moved your tongue, the way you felt on his cock.. he loved it. It was like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

He moved his hips into your mouth, making you gag some more.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum.. I'm gonna cum.." he said breathlessly, his eyes shut while he took a few deep breaths.

You pulled up, your mouth secure on his tip while you looked up at him. Your tongue continued to assault his slit while your hands went to his shaft, moving with no mercy.

He let out a loud moan, squirming a bit. You sucked harder, your cheeks hallowed while he became a moaning mess infront of you.

"F-fuck!!~" he said, just under a shout. Then, warm thick cum filled your mouth, it landing right on your tongue.

You pulled off, swallowing what he left in your mouth before standing up and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

His chest rose frantically while his mouth stayed slightly open, his dick finally softening up a bit.

"Tastes delicious." You smiled at him while he just tried to calm down. His face was still hot, and you were still extremely horny.

"W-wait..." he said, his head turning to you, his eyes half lidded.

"Hm?" You hummed, that cheeky smile still on your face.

"Can I return the favor..?"

──────────────────────────────

Sorry if it's kinda choppy. I tried tho! 🤧

And should I make a taglist? 😭

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silverzoomies · 8 months

Text

Screwball

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: smut, slow burn, kissing, hand jobs, loss of virginity, temperature play, mutant reader, ice powers, porn with plot, clunky writing

word count: 14,151

a/n: im so late posting this. i meant to finish this one like a month ago. but it's already september !! and a heatwave fic seems so out of season !! oh well !! i hope someone out there enjoys this. i went through hell tryin' to finish it. but i'm pretty happy with the way it panned out,,

apologies for the usual: clunky writing, slow as fuck execution, potentially ooc dialogue, etc etc etc kbgsjbdghsoiheg

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Westchester, New York had never seen such a record breaking heat wave.

And in all his reckless, fast paced years up to the ripe age of thirty, neither had Peter.

His fragmented memory is jam packed. Cluttered with disorganized checklists of every place he’s ever been. Not that he’s bragging or anything. But Peter’s basically seen the entire world, and then some. If one were to count those gnarly, X-Men space missions. He’d gone places no non-mutant could ever conceivably dream of reaching. From the deathly cold peak of Mount Everest, to the blistering sands of the Sahara desert itself.

Even with all that collected experience, Peter’s a hundred percent sure; he’s never faced summertime heat as insanely lethal as this.

Okay, sure. Maybe declaring Westchester as hotter than the Sahara might be a bit of a stretch. But to Peter’s credit, this heat wave is dangerous enough to warrant a citywide advisory. Which, in layman’s terms, means: don’t get ballsy. Unless you wanna end up fryin’ like an egg on the sidewalk.

The weather outside is so grisly, in fact, the X-Men themselves had to call their latest mission quits. Imagine that! Crazy, right? A fierce team of mutant heroes, capable of taking on behemoth sized sentinels. And even they didn’t dare another second in the heat.

Peter detached himself from the concept of religion ages ago. But thank the mysterious powers above, whoever they may be. Because he was legit two seconds away from collapsing to the ground, in a boiled heap of skin and bone.

He stumbles off the X-jet on wobbly legs. And no joke, Peter swears his muscles have somehow melted into jelly. It’s supremely embarrassing, the way he struggles to keep up with the team as they move ahead. They all stop before going upstairs, waiting to reconvene with Xavier. Organized in a careless, half circle; the X-Men look as though they’ve returned from an Olympic marathon. Their bodies exhausted, and blanketed in buckets of sweat.

Naturally, on account of Peter’s super dope, mutant genes; his body functioned at a nonstop rate of super sonic speed. As a repercussion, his average body temperature burned leagues hotter than any non-mutant’s. It wasn’t abnormal for Peter to dread the tormenting heat of the summer season.

In the blazing eye of a dangerous heat wave, swarming the city like an apocalyptic storm; Peter’s absolutely certain – like, for sure, he’s teetering on the brink of death. A miserable, stewing-in-your-own-sweat kinda death. Leave it to Logan to recite the eulogy at Peter’s funeral. No doubt, Wolvie would have nothing but positive things to say about Peter after he died. Most definitely.

Peter might be a teensy bit freaked out actually. Since he had no idea he was even capable of experiencing heat exhaustion. It almost makes him paranoid. Like a hypochondriac with a chest ache. In an attempt to force his recovery, Peter chugs through exactly thirteen bottles of dollar store water in a flash. The source of his stash? A stainless steel, mini fridge in Hank’s lab.

He knows Hank’s gonna be totally peeved when he finds the fridge raided clean. But Peter doesn’t bother worrying about that right now. Instead, he makes a mental reminder: Water bottles. An IOU. One he’ll probably forget about within the next two seconds. And never get around to fulfilling.

Professor Chucksters is talking, but Peter can’t find it in himself to listen to a single word. Whatever momentous info the ol’ baldy drops, flies a thousand miles over his feverish head. Peter cranes his neck back in overheated agony, lazily chugging Hank’s last remaining bottle of crisp, cold water. The smooth bite of that cold down Peter’s throat makes him exhale with relief through his nose.

Halfway through, he stops to shower his head in the rest. Letting chilly droplets rain down over his silver hair. Sharp tingles erupt down his neck and across his shoulders. Peter shudders, humming in delight to himself.

Oh. Shit. Wait…

Peter then comes to the regrettable realization that, in a heatwave so hazardous; water is a necessity to be shared.

No shit, blockhead.

Now, mind you, Peter isn’t known for his forethought. He’s pretty overzealous. Had he taken time to stop and think for a hot sec…yeah. Sure. Maybe he should’ve been more mindful of his suffering teammates. Oopsie daisies.

Much like a careless dog, Peter shakes off the cold drops soaking his hair. Sprinkles of water splash all around him, with Jubilee caught in the line of fire. She jumps in place with an abrupt, but silent exclamation of ‘ew!’ Shooting Peter a look of burning fury. Damp strands of Peter’s hair fan over his eyes. He runs his fingers slowly through them to give his forehead some air.

Maybe Peter’s a little delusional. Because he swears on his life he catches a red tint in Jubilee’s cheeks. She scoffs, like she can’t stand his bullshit. He throws her a wink. A beat later, she smiles and rolls her eyes.

Peter smirks. Lucky for him, his speedster charm has yet to fizzle out.

The team waits patiently for their opportune moment to flee. It’s obvious they’re all pretty antsy. Probably since they’re dying to change into something lighter. Better fitted for Satan’s city wide celebration of hellfire and brimstone. Anything but the jumpsuits, at least. But that’s just a hunch.

In Peter’s own personal opinion? The most ideal scenario would be to strut around naked, in nothing at all. Sounds awesome, right? Freedom from the suffocation of needless threads! However, societal standards and modern customs definitely wouldn’t allow such debauchery. Not to mention, Peter isn’t super keen on the idea of peeping his teammates in their birthday suits.

Except for Raven, maybe. He never gets tired of looking at those scales. All that blue. Nice.

Oh. And…you. Frankly, Peter’s willing to risk it all just to catch a glimpse of you in the buff.

He swallows a thick lump forming in his throat, sneaking a lightning fast glance in your direction. Observing you with a gawking gaze, Peter ignores the way his heartbeat kicks up to roadrunner speed. Faster than fast. Like, cartoonishly fast. It’s ridiculous.

You’re completely impervious to any heatwave debuffs. Lucky lucky. Standing there without a care in the world, you listen attentively to professor Charlie Brown’s ramblings. Since you’re so distracted, Peter lets his speedy eyes shamelessly wander. Trailing down the glittering, icy blue of your jumpsuit. Uniquely personalized to coincide with your wintry gimmick.

Which doesn’t at all explain why it’s so inappropriately skin tight.

Peter feels himself choke on his next breath. But he’s quick to blame it on the weather. Yeah. It’s just the heat that’s stifling him. Nothing else. Get real, dude.

The sparkling material of your suit hugs your figure a little too perfectly. Complementing every irresistible curve. Peter always thought you looked so ludicrously fine in that suit. If not way, way, way too distracting. Sometimes, he found it ultra hard – ignoring any euphemisms – to maintain focus during missions. Usually because your frosty ass came twinkling in his peripheral, throwing off his mojo.

But let’s chalk Peter’s lack of focus up to his chronic ADD instead, ‘kay?

Heck. Maybe it wasn’t the ADD’s fault. At least, not entirely. Like, cut the bullshit for a sec. Peter doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience. He’s never gone any further than a dozen heated sessions of heavy petting. And from time to time, though he hates to admit it; it haunts him. The way he’s so suppressed. Overflowing with pent-up desire.

Thirty years old and still a virgin? Clock’s ticking, Quickie. No wonder he can’t take his hungry eyes off your body.

Speaking of your body.

Damn, is it hot in here? Or is it just you?

It’s most definitely not you.

Your body naturally radiates a refreshing aura of frigidity. It’s no coincidence, the way your teammates linger so closely in your proximity. Peter can’t really blame them for doing so. You’re the human equivalent of an icebox. Even a touch of your finger could turn the entire X-mansion into a winter wonderland. Part of him wonders why you haven’t done so already. Since you’d be sparing everyone the infernal anguish of this awful heat wave.

Maybe you’re just as absentminded as he is.

Anyway, right about now, Peter desperately yearns to be a long lost tub of neapolitan. Stuffed deep inside your metaphorical freezer.

Which…sounds way dirtier than intended.

Fuck. Alright. Moving on.

Tugging at the collar of his jumpsuit, Peter fights to catch his breath. The fierce heat from outside has somehow seeped its way into the X-Men’s base of operations. Almost like an act of god. Or more like a punishment, maybe.

In desperate need of relief, Peter looks to you once more. He finds himself struck with an ingenious, lightbulb moment then.

A blink, and he bolts, appearing directly behind you. A faint gust of wind flutters your hair. But the breeze fails to even make you flinch. Peter isn’t the least bit subtle with his actions, as he presses his burning body a little too closely into your back. And hoooooooooooooo mama! The sweet relief of your icy presence is so worth any consequences, should they arise.

You whip your head around suddenly, giving Peter a weird look and a once over. He can’t really blame you for staring at him like that. Sure, you’re both teammates. Even family, one might argue. You’re both fighting for the same cause. But you haven’t built an inseparable bond with Peter or anything.

Honestly, he’d be totally down if you did. But that’s neither here nor there.

Peter always thought you were pretty damn cool. In more ways than one, if your glacial mutation was included in the mix. If he were more honest with himself, he would’ve acknowledged his dumb, boyish crush on you an entire ice-age ago. Oh well.

He’s still too much of an awkward spaz for his own good sometimes.

You seem…confused. Staring at Peter as if silently asking him a question. If he had to guess, it’s probably something along the lines of – what the hell do you think you’re doing, you handsome scoundrel? Peter exchanges your puzzled look with an uneasy smile. Dramatically, he fans himself with a hand. Hoping you get the hint, he pokes his tongue out to playfully express his suffocating torment.

Thankfully, you pick up what he’s putting down. As you turn back around, you giggle cutely. Peter breathes an alleviating sigh. He’s left to bask in the glory of your wintry aura. So freeing, and so, so cold. He could kiss you as a thanks, if only you’d let him. But you’ve already directed your attention to Xavier’s painfully long lecture.

Wait. Seriously, how long was this talk supposed to last? It feels like a million years at this point and-

Peter checks the Star Trek watch on his wrist. It’s only been…five minutes. Huh.

The gathering of ye olde X-council draws to a close. At long last! Xavier wraps up his spiel of heroic efforts , world peace , and wonderful work everyone. Bla bla bla. Don’t get Peter wrong. He harbors a lot of respect for the guy. Any other day, and he would’ve found those words somewhat awe inspiring. If not the slightest bit misguided.

But today? Professor, dude, now’s not the time to be preaching words of wisdom. Your nerd club’s literally cooking from the inside out. Give it a rest.

The team wastes no time. As soon as Chuck’s given the go-ahead, they’re gone. High-tailing it upstairs as fast as their tired legs can go. Which isn’t all that fast. At least, not by Peter’s standards. But he’s hella impressed with the enthusiasm.

Unlike everyone else, you move at a frustratingly slow pace. Walking behind you feels akin to waiting too long in a DMV line. Something Peter’s never had to do a single day in his life. And he’s not about to start now. It’s monotonous, and borderline infuriating. But his heightened impatience is probably just another consequence of this outrageous heat.

You take your sweet ass time – and holy moly, did you have a sweet ass – as you ascend to the first floor of the X-mansion. Peter follows after you like a lost puppy, not too far behind. On your way to – presumably – your room, you climb another, dreaded flight of stairs. And since when were stairs a hindrance to a speedster like Peter? He’s never once felt winded making a simple ascent like this. Ever.

Peter’s growing more and more restless. His skin feels sticky and uncomfortable under his jumpsuit, but he can’t rush home to grab a change of clothes. He’s unwilling to risk a race through whatever hellscape lies in waiting outside. No matter how little time it takes him. Not while his lungs are cooking to a crisp.

He aches for the touch of your icy hands. Plain and simple. Nothing to it. Nothing sexual. No strings attached.

Unless…you had a preference for strings. Peter would tie them around his wrists and move like a marionette puppet if you asked. Shit, you want a whole show? Bring out the dancing Muppets.

Midway through your ascent, Peter appears in front of you. He stops you suddenly, leaning casually with his hand against the wooden railing. His other hand rests on his hip. Lamely, he forces himself to act as naturally as he can. Which is virtually impossible, considering the circumstances. But even so, Peter throws you his signature grin and nods his head.

Be cool, dude. Be cool. Ease into it. Just try not to think about how you’re literally baking to death here.

His overheated exhaustion is impossible to miss. Even a dense chimp in a blindfold could sense something’s off about him. The quick rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a dead give away. Revealing how labored his breathing really is. Trickles of sweat race in a tense competition down Peter’s temples. Warm heat pools in his cheeks, and his skin appears ghostly pale.

That…might be the reason you gaze at him like you’re worried sick. As if you’ve seen a haunting, silverette ghost. Peter looks like he’ll pass out sometime within the next five minutes. Realistically, he should probably seek medical attention immediately. But he fakes his aloof casualness anyway.

“Heyyyyy, what’s the haps? Where’re you headed in such a rush, Screwball?” Peter asks, somewhat condescending.

“Screwball?” You narrow your eyes, puzzled, “Oh, y’know, my room probably? I might take a nap. Why?” You laugh despite your confusion, crossing your arms. Fixing Peter with a look that only suggests one thing: suspicion.

Fair enough.

He nods, rapidly tapping his fingers on the railing.

“Cool. Coooooool. I can dig it. Nothin’ wrong with that. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna spend a summer afternoon like this lazin’ around in bed, amiright?”

Good. Nice and easy. Peter should probably stop there, and speak no further. But his hazy, addled mind works on autopilot. The words race past his lips faster than he can keep up.

“It’s hot as hell today too. So, you could totally sprawl out butt ass naked and-”

Too late.

“...Yeah?” Based on your expression alone, Peter knows he’s made a total ass of himself. By some miracle, you don’t deck him with an icy fist of freezing fury. Not that you seemed the violent type to begin with.

“Wait, no-” He abruptly pauses to try and make sense of his thoughts. A stifling heat in the air swarms his head, drowning Peter in hot molasses, “Oh. Gah! What the hell am I even saying? Sorry, that was-uh…that was totally weird, right? Uh, lemme start over-uhm-”

Peter clears his throat, masking his mortification with his speedster charm. Super popular with the ladies. Tested on the battlefield of life and approved. A five star rating. No need to question why he still hasn’t managed to get laid, like ever.

“Sooooooooo…anyway. Y’wanna hang out?” He asks, cheesing a dorky grin.

“You never ask me to hang out with you. But today, of all days…that’s when you do? Everything’s closed, Peter. Y’know, because of the heat advisory? I mean, clearly…you look like you know.” You gesture to Peter himself.

A sweaty sheen coats his skin. He really should’ve taken a cold shower in the communal washrooms. At least before confronting you like this. Man, he really screwed this up. If this interaction falls flat, Peter’s just gonna bail. Maybe he’ll try and stuff himself in that mini fridge of Hank’s. He’d be way better off there. Until Beastie finds him, anyway.

“Uh, yeah? Pffft …no duh. I knew that. But, so what? Just ‘cuz there’s some lame stuff happening outside. That doesn’t mean we can’t do somethin’ totally cool inside. Know what I mean?” Simple and subtle.

“Hm…” You think on his offer for a moment. But it feels like he's aged another thirty years by the time you reply, “At least let me change first, okay? You probably should too! I know you gotta be burnin’ up in that jumpsuit, sweetheart!”

A dopey smile plays on Peter’s lips, pressing into his dimples.

So…sweetheart, eh? That’s a new one.

Politely, you push past Peter to make your way up the remaining stairs. Without any forethought or plan of action, he cuts you off again. He slides across the floor into your visual radius, worn sneakers squeaking along polished wood. Wait…why’s he losing his balance?? Peter doesn’t usually lose his balance. Shit.

Ah. he’s lightheaded now. Great.

You’re close enough that Peter can feel the tempting coldness radiating off your body. Oh, man. If only you’d envelop him in your frosty arms completely. You could even lay on top of him like a blanket of snow post avalanche. Anything. Please. Peter is so beyond desperate to beat the heat, he’d let you pelt him with a flurry of snowballs. At least then, he wouldn’t feel a spark away from igniting into flames.

Staring at him with an impatient look, you tilt your head and furrow your brows. Awkwardly, Peter shifts on his feet. Thick humidity overflows his lungs, close to bursting with the force of an atomic bomb. Breathing is near impossible at this point. Peter may as well bite the silver bullet, before he finally kicks the bucket.

Godspeed, or however the saying goes.

“Hi…sorry. Okay-uh…hear me out, please?” He begs. Peter brings his hands together in front of him like he’s praying at the altar, “This is gonna sound weird. Like, next-level weird. Yer probably gonna think I’m a huge creep. And I’m not tryna freak you out ‘er anything. ‘kay? Like, I totally get it if yer not down for this. ‘Cuz, y’know, we’re not really all that close. Plus, you probably have other stuff you’d rather be doin’ than helpin’ out some loser like me, but-” Peter rapidly stammers over his words.

Way to go, ponyboy. Graceful as ever.

Holding out a small hand to politely silence Peter, you utter his name in the sweetest tone he’s ever heard. Hushed, soft, and so gentle. Your voice is the equivalent of candy to his eardrums. He kinda really digs the way you sound when you talk. So courteous and nice all the time.

Be still, his palpitating heart. Seriously. Calm down. Or he’s literally gonna die.

“Peter?”

“Uhyeahwhat?” He stammers again.

“Are you…okay? You’re sweating like crazy. You look like you’re gonna pass out, dude.”

Peter throws you an ‘ok’ sign with a hand, his grin sluggish.

“Peachy keen, baby.”

He swears with every fiber of his sweltering soul that calling you ‘baby’ made you blush. But, y’know, since he’s a little bit doubtful, he might have to test that theory again. Just to be a hundred percent sure. Break out the ol’ chalkboard and sketch some x’s and o’s like a scientific diagram. Top of the line research. He’s the leading psychoanalyst in speedster charisma.

“You sure about that?” You ask, arching a brow, holding an easygoing smile.

Taking a few steps closer, you bless Peter with your emanating chill. He doesn’t at all expect you to raise your hand. Peter swallows a thick, blistering lump in his throat. Frozen in place, he watches in slow motion as you bring the tips of your frosty fingers to his chest. Brisk, winter cold spreads in fractals of frost over his jumpsuit.

Freezing heaven on scorching earth. It’s sorta…poetic, in a way. Peter blinks rapidly, caught in a mind-altering daze for a beat or two. Your touch really is like a miracle cure, alleviating that stifling thickness suffocating his lungs.

“W-Wow. Okay.” He chokes awkwardly, cheeks flushing. His skin tingles under his jumpsuit, “Wow. That’s cool. Literally cool.”

“Peter?”

“Mmmmmmhmmm?” He hums, slouching his shoulders. Peter shamelessly relaxes under your wintry touch.

“You’re suffering in this heat, aren’t you? You need me to help you out?”

Stupidly, like a colossal, doofus dumbass, he shakes his head. You’re offering the exact thing Peter came to you for. A golden opportunity. He’s really hit the jackpot now. All he has to do is face the music, and admit it. Just be honest. Say it, doofus!

“Huh? Naaahhhh! Pffft …why would-...hey, I told ya! I’m juuuust peachy, Screwball! Don’t gotta worry about me!”

Hanging in the air by a delicate string, is a tension Peter’s too stunned to identify. Taking another step closer, the swell of your breasts meets his chest. The hand you’ve placed over his speedy heart trails tantalizingly slow, up to Peter’s flushed cheek. His dark eyes flutter closed, and he almost falls face first into your touch.

“I can take care of you, y'know? I really don’t mind, honey. It wouldn’t be an issue.” Your soft voice exudes genuine compassion. The sweet, gentle attention burns his skin to a boiling point, his veins melting underneath.

That unidentifiable tension in the air permeates, thicker than summertime heat. Despite the relieving cold you’ve given him to bask in; Peter finds it even more difficult to breathe. It confuses him, the way you act so nice and considerate. And now? He’s melting entirely.

Literally. No dramatizations. Peter can feel his damp skin drooping slowly off his bones.

He’s already close enough to death as is. What’s with the tenderness and affection, huh? Were you going out of your way to make sure he dies faster? Have some humanity, for Geddy’s sake. Jeez.

“I-uh…I…” Peter stutters, at a loss for words, “I wouldn’t wanna put you out like that, but…uh…”

“Alright. Whatever you say.” You steadily pull your hand from Peter’s face, “Offer’s still on the table, though!”

Wait. Wait. Wait. Why are you pulling away? No, no, no! You can’t pull away! Not yet! Come on!

All at once, the soothing cold you’ve gifted Peter disappears. No thanks to the steaming fever brought upon by his overheated, speedster body. He nearly whines at the loss, pulling his lip between his teeth to stifle any embarrassing noises.

It takes Peter only a millisecond to give in. With a slower reaction time than usual – not really all that slow, from an outside perspective – he darts his hand out in a flash. Peter lightly grabs your wrist, stopping you from retracting your hand any further.

“Wait-” Peter groans, acting hasty. Frustrated with his own awkwardness, he rolls his eyes, “...I’m…I’m literally dyin’ here, okay? Like, no joke. I think my heart might actually explode. And I…kinda can’t breathe right now? So, uhm…can you just, like, touch me? Just a little bit? But not-” He panics suddenly, eyes widening, “N-Not like-...not in a weird way, I swear!”

He almost tacks on a suggestive ‘unless you really want to,’ but decides against it. Better not, lest he dig himself into a deeper hole. So far under the Earth’s surface, he’ll come out the other side. Not a bad idea, actually. Maybe it’s cooler over there.

“And I’ll totally make it up to you. I promise. Pinky swear. Cross my heart, hope I don’t die of heat stroke.” He insists.

You giggle again, cute as can be. It’s not the least bit condescending either, thankfully. Peter feels the weight of a billion megatons finally lift off his shoulders. With a nod, you take his hand in yours. A surprisingly intimate gesture, since the two of you have never done anything quite like this before. Hell, you’ve never spent time with each other one-on-one outside of the X-Men.

“C’mon, you silly goose.” You lightheartedly joke.

Your affection catches Peter off guard. Not that he’s got a problem with it. No siree. In fact, his heart might’ve skipped a few beats. A lazy smile plays at his lips, as you guide Peter down the hall to your room in your usual, slow stride.

Oh, sweet, frosty sanctuary calls.

As soon as Peter steps inside, you quickly close the door behind you. Feeling somewhat out of place in the unfamiliarity of your space, Peter distracts himself with the posters on your walls. He casts quick glances over the silly knick-knacks occupying your desk and dressers. Turns out, your room has a lot of personality. Neat.

He overhears a faint click suddenly. Whipping around to find you locking the door, Peter narrows his eyes in thought.

Huh.

Maybe he’s overthinking. Probably. But doesn’t locking the door like that suggest some…implications? Then again, Peter could be looking at this in all the wrong ways. Like, okay, if he were being realistic? More than likely, you didn’t wanna risk someone walking in. Not while you got handsy with one of your teammates in your room. Totally reasonable, he thinks.

But then-

Leaning your back against the door, you steadily unzip your glittering suit. Pulling the tiny, snowflake zipper down just enough to expose the swell of – Oh, hellllloooooooooo snowy cleavage. Where in the world have you been all his life? Peter has to refrain from whistling.

Okay. You totally did that on purpose, didn’t you? That was completely intentional. And Peter’s definitely not reading too far into things. He’s most unequivocally not letting his attraction to you affect his perception of a simple gesture. Not at all.

He can’t control his lingering gaze. Peter’s droopy eyes follow the slow movement of your hand, his mouth falling agape in a heat-exhausted stupor. Somewhere around him, he can barely make out your voice. But it’s muffled. All noise. Akin to a teacher from a Peanuts cartoon. Bwah Bwah Bwah Bwah.

Peter blinks.

“Huh? Sorry…you say somethin’?” It’s a failed attempt at a recovery. Peter taps his temple, “Gotta couple screws loose in here right now. Y’know, heat’s kinda gettin’ to me.”

You arch a brow, gazing at Peter like you see right through his bullshit. And yeah, he’s gonna go ahead and bet you probably do.

“Uh huh?” You scoff, giggling, “I asked if you’d be more comfortable on the bed, doofus.”

Moving closer to your bed, you bend over to adjust the fuckload of plushies resting on the blankets. Wow. Check that out. It’s like a Toys R Us threw up. A colorful mess of too many plushies for Peter to count. There’s barely any space to lie down, even if he wanted to.

Doing a quick double take, he glances between you, and your occupied bed. Peter sways where he stands, light headed from heat exhaustion. His brows shoot up in unexpected surprise. He whistles through a suggestive grin.

“Waiiiit, seriously?” Peter huffs a charming laugh, “Wow. Didn’t peg you for the direct type, Screwball. Y’wanna take me out to dinner and a movie first?”

“Dinner and a movie? I dunno, Peter. You’re askin’ for a lot.” You giggle again, acting nonchalant. You make your way around the room to a record player on a corner shelf. Neatly organized vinyls are aligned meticulously next to it. As you poke through your collection, you continue, “But sure. Fuck it, right? Why not! What movie?”

Distracted, as he usually is, Peter glances curiously around your room. Framed photos, postcards, and letters adorn your walls. Pinned carefully in place. Some of the photos, he suspects, are of your family. Others, more than likely friends. There’s even a few group photos of the X-Men together, bringing a fond smile to his face.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah?

Wait. Shit. You’re talking again. And Peter totally missed whatever you said.

“Huh?” Peter darts his head in your direction, watching with half lidded eyes as you set up the record player.

“Dude.” You roll your eyes affectionately, chuckling, “I said, is it hot in here, by the way? Just wondering. Since I can’t really tell.”

“Oh-” Peter exaggerates a sigh, “It’s really bad, babe. Like, sooo bad. I’m definitely gonna die if you don’t come over here and put those icebox hands on me, like, right now. Seriously.” He snickers, falling limply backwards into your bed.

Several plushies bounce with the impact of his weight. Some tumble onto the floor. Others topple onto Peter himself, but he leaves them be. He clutches a Beatles Blue Meanie plush to his chest. Breathing in quick, muggy breaths. Peter finds he’s even more consumed by the record-breaking heat. It’s a miracle he hasn’t disintegrated into a pile of ash by now.

“Howard the Duck.” Peter adds, staring at the ceiling in cloudy thought. He twirls the Blue Meanie in his hands.

“Pffft…what?” You laugh, “What are you even-”

“That’s the movie I wanna see. When you take me out? I wanna watch Howard the Duck. Oh! And I want popcorn too. Can’t watch a movie without popcorn. But it’s gotta be one of the big ones. With extra butter. And some candy-”

“ When I take you out. C’mon, really? Dude, didn’t critics totally pan that movie? I swear, I saw that in the paper just recently! It’s such an awful movie, Peter!”

“Uh, yeah? And so what? That’s kinda what makes it the ultimate date move, babe. Check it out – we could have the most awesome time makin’ fun of it.” Peter throws his head back further into your bed, peering at you from upside down, “Ooooh! Did you hear about the duck boobs scene? No joke. I kid you not. It’s got duck titties.”

A mellow tune slowly encompasses the quiet, muggy space of your room. Peter instantly recognizes it from the first few beats alone. Obscured by Clouds. Pink Floyd. …Cool. Peter’s pretty fond of that album himself. It’s not necessarily his favorite, per se. But it’s awesome enough. And it’s perfectly fitting for the mood of sweltering, summertime vibes too, he thinks.

“I didn’t until now.” You sarcastically scoff. Meandering towards Peter on your bed, “Spoilers, dude.”

He brings his head up to look at you. Spreading himself out, Peter knocks more of your poor plushies to the floor. Carelessly, he drops the Blue Meanie plush. Letting him fall to his ultimate demise. Au revoir, his blueness.

“Right. My bad.” He snickers. After a beat, Peter adds, “I love this album, by the way. It’s a nice vibe.”

In your eyes, he must look a lot like a beached starfish. Sprawled out and helpless. Drying to death in the heat of the summertime sun. Peter has his long legs hanging loosely off the edge of your bed. Moving in between those spread legs, you carefully climb onto the bed. Your knee stops just short of his crotch. As you inch yourself further over his body, Peter’s eyes widen. He blinks slowly, feeling hot beads of sweat roll down his temples.

“I know you do.” You grin down at him with a warm gaze. Peter’s lungs threaten to shrink into nothingness.

“Y-You do? Huh…no shit?” He appears put off, raising a silver brow, “How’d you know?”

You shrug, keeping your grin, “Guess I pay more attention to you than you think, hmm?” Perched over Peter with a palm to the sheets, you brush the silver bangs out of his eyes, “You got any limits?”

Peter blinks again, dumbfounded.

“Lim-...uh, what now?”

“Limits, y’know. Like, where am I free to touch? Anything you’re not comfortable with?”

“Oh. Uh…you can…touch me anywhere? It’s whatever yer comfortable with. Yer the one doin’ me a favor here.” he gazes at you with an unsure, sleepy eyed look. Nervously nibbling his lip, tasting the salt of his sweat, “Do you-uh…do you do this kinda thing a lot? Fer…other people?”

“Nope.” You blink down at him with that genuine, sweet smile again. Shrugging, “Just you.”

A subtle aura of addictive cold radiates from your body like a light. Peter can feel the faintest hint of it as you move in close. It teases him, promising sweet relief from the merciless summer heat. With his lips parted, Peter stares longingly into your eyes. His smile reveals a glimpse of his front teeth, as he snickers in disbelief.

“Uh huh. Alright. See, now I know fer sure yer just messin’ with me.” He bashfully laughs.

“Not yet I’m not.” You throw him a coy wink. Innocently, you ask, “Where do you want me?”

Which could so easily be misconstrued. Dammit.

Yeah. So, this one’s definitely on him. Peter’s inexperienced, sexually charged instincts immediately jump somewhere totally depraved. He’s a little ashamed of that fact. But hey, who’s the one climbing over him on their bed? Who’s the one fluttering those pretty lashes? Giving him those flirtatious smiles. Come on. Really? No wonder he’s lost his mind in the gutter.

Where do you want me?

Peter’s dark eyes immediately dart to his crotch for less than a second. But it happens so fast, he doesn’t doubt you missed it.

“Uhhhhh…I dunno. I didn’t…I didn’t really think about it? But, you cou- HHHHHHhnnnnnnnaaaaaaa-”

Frigid cold invades the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, as you press your hand gently there. A tiny thumb brushes his adam’s apple. Shivering, Peter bunches his shoulders. Tingling chills surge across his body.

“That’s good. That’s g-great. Awesome. Totally awesome. Thanks. Thank you.” He chokes in a rush, instantly melting into your icy touch.

Relaxing his body in your bed, Peter’s head falls loosely back. He breathes a long sigh of relief, his mouth falling open in a dopey smile. His eyes flutter closed as he laughs. Steadily then, your hand travels lower. Grazing frosty fingertips over his chest. Your fingers soon find the zipper of his jumpsuit, and you tug it down a little further.

That heavy tension from earlier grows a thousand times more distracting. For whatever reason, the mellow melody of Pink Floyd’s ‘When You’re In’ only seems to heighten said tension. Almost like it’s setting a certain kinda…steamy mood.

Did Peter wake up in some cheesy, VHS porno? He’s definitely living the plot of one.

Peter flutters his eyes open, met with the sight of you on your knees over him. Your gaze appearing heavy, focused intently on your task. You nibble your lip in thought, looking fine as hell while doing so. Pressing your small palm to his chest, you finally grace him with glorious cold again. Right over the sweaty abomination for a shirt he wore under his jumpsuit. He’s almost embarrassed that you’re even touching it.

Using your glacial gift, you manifest more coolness. Allowing it to spread all over Peter’s body. He sucks in a harsh breath, freeing his lungs from their heated asphyxiation.

There it is. Sweet, icy sanctuary, at long last.

“Ohhhhhhhh …” Peter groans, “Nice.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat, his veins straining under his skin. Digging your nails firmly into his chest, you manifest snowy trails of glittering frost. The biting cold nips at his skin over the fabric of his shirt. Like walking chest first into an arctic glacier.

“Is this helping you much at all?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“You have nooooooooo idea, babe.” Peter breathes a grateful sigh, “This is, like, so amazing. Thanks. I owe ya one.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

Your freezing hand meets Peter’s sweaty forehead, pressing into his skin. Like you’re checking his temperature with the gentleness of a mother’s touch. Humming to the music, you card your cold fingers through his damp locks. Firmly massaging Peter’s scalp.

Peter lets his eyes drift shut again. His mouth falling open out of his control. Leaving his hair, you bring your attention back to his body. Watching him carefully for any sign to stop, you tug the wet, frost nipped fabric of his shirt. Bunching it up over his neck, exposing his broad chest.

He shoots an eye open, fixing you with a curious look. Feeling hot skin under your soft palms, you slide your hands over his raised pecs. Your fingers gliding in a touch as delicate as powdered snow. It sends sharp chills down his spine. A sensation he’s quickly finding extremely addictive and all too pleasant.

Instantaneously, something clicks in Peter’s brain.

A beat, and your touch goes from relieving, to downright pleasurable. Even sort of…arousing. Peter immediately reacts, arching his back in an abrupt jolt. He laughs his surprise through a broken moan, tossing his head back for the umpteenth time.

“O-Oh, fuck.” He chokes, loud enough to disturb whoever occupies the room next door.

Peter’s so righteously fucked now. Because he really shouldn’t be as turned on by this as he is. It’s just…he’s so boiling hot. Miserable as hell. And not only are you finally breaking him free of hellfire’s tyranny. But you’re also touching him sorta intimately. Peter’s really not immune to attention like this. Especially not from a stone fox he’s super attracted to.

His nipples harden under your frigid spell, perky against the tips of your fingers. Peter hisses, whimpering another moan without meaning to. Your only response is to giggle. Curiously, you tilt your head. Quickly taking notice of the way Peter’s noises have changed in pitch.

They’re more like moans of ecstasy now. Because, well, they sorta are. Whoops.

Lowering your hips, you suddenly move to rest on Peter’s lap. Just to give your knees some much needed rest. His hammering heart threatens to burst straight through his ribcage. Rising from the bed onto his elbows, Peter tries to protest.

“Wait! Wait, don’t sit- hoooohhhh.” A throaty groan slips off his tongue.

The full weight of your lower half drops onto his lap. Right over the stiff hard-on in his jumpsuit, doing little to hide itself. Your ass is so outrageously cold against his crotch and… oh, fuck. That’s so perfect. Peter groans again through a shuddering breath. Limply, he lowers himself onto his back. Hoping to conceal his shame, he brings his hands to his face.

Except, there’s no denying his obvious desire anymore.

“Auuuuugh.” Peter curses himself, “Shit. I am seriously so, so sorry-” Your name plays on his tongue in a desperate, apologetic tone, “I-I really…I dunno why I’m so-uh…I’m not usually-”

“Hey, don’t worry! It’s okay. Believe me, I don’t mind…”

Gosh. There you go again, doing that thing. The thing where you act so unexpectedly understanding in the face of an awkward situation. But even then, Peter can hear your smooth voice waver. Despite all you try to hide, he can tell. You’re just as nervous as he is, but ultimately better at masking it.

He doesn’t see it, but you gaze down at him rather suggestively. A fresh, newfound sense of lust lingers in your eyes. Raking your nails teasingly down his chest, you draw numbing streaks of snow, making him wince. The frost manifests seamlessly from your fingers, tickling Peter’s ever burning skin. It melts instantly, leaving beaded droplets.

“Does it really feel good when I touch you like this, pretty boy?” You tease, that waver in your voice barely leaking through again.

Wooooah. Okay. Okay. Hold up. Rewind. What?

Peter isn’t hearing you wrong this time. He couldn’t be. It’s impossible to misread the dirty tease in your tone. In the blink of an eye – rapid fire speed – the blood pooling in his cheeks vacates straight to his dick. Peter’s cock twitches, pulsating under his jumpsuit – under you – and shamefully unveiling just how horny he really is.

The high-speed boom boom boom of Peter’s heart skids to a deafening halt. His exhausted lungs finally collapse. Squeezing out his final remnants of life. If someone were to hook him up to an EKG, he surely would’ve flat-lined. Sayonara, suckers. This foolhardy speedster’s at the end of his road.

But…what’s this?! Peter’s still alive and breathing? Who could’ve predicted such a phenomenon??

He lowers his hands from his flushed face, peering over the tips of his fingers. His black coffee eyes blown exceptionally wide.

“Woah. Hold on now. What?” Peter snorts. He shakes himself free of total shock, frantically nodding, “Uh, yeah? It feels…really fuckin’ awesome, to tell you the truth.”

“Mhm?” You hum a sensual vibration, biting your lip, “Mind if I try something bold then?”

Peter arches a curious brow. You’re kind of a little minx, aren’t you?

“Literally? You can do whatever you want with me, babe. I’m all yours.” He heaves an exasperated laugh.

A smirk dawns your pretty lips, and you shimmy backwards over Peter’s lap. Until the bulging swell of his hardness lies before you, squirming under his jumpsuit. Teasing him, you drag your biting touch down to his crotch. Euphoric cold dances across his pelvis. You stop short of his hard-on, and Peter draws in a ragged breath.

“Awww…feelin’ a little stiff, sweetheart?” You coo in a sultry sound. Peter feels his blood pressure drop to a life-threatening degree, “Let me help you out.”

Testing the metaphorical, frozen waters; you bring your frigid palm over his bulge. You watch Peter for any sign to retract your hand, fixing him with an intense look. But to your surprise, his cock doesn’t soften under your frosty touch. Not like one would expect. Oh, no. The opposite happens, in fact.

“Mmmmhh…oh my god.” He moans, his front teeth clamping hard into his lip. Jolting in response to his own sensitivity, he rolls his hips into your small hand, “Please…”

You squeeze the thick length of him as well as you can over his jumpsuit, applying more pressure. Awkwardly stroking his dick with your wintry tipped fingers. The bleak touch you cast sends chills racing through Peter’s veins, and sharp pleasure rises in his groin.

“F-Fer the record, by the way, this is not how I expected this to go.” Peter shivers, breathlessly chuckling.

“Oh, no?” You mutter, climbing over Peter on your knees. Glacial breath ghosts his lips. You lean in close, giving his cock another firm squeeze, “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Fuuuuuuck no, baby. Not a chance.” Peter groans his reply, lifting his hips. Yearning for more of your gratifying chill. Another wintry wave of cold seizes through his groin, and Peter’s eyes roll back, “Holy shit. That’s it.”

Peter finds himself a little conflicted. His brown hues can’t decide if they wanna gaze into your own, or stare longingly at your lips. In the past, Peter thought about those same lips more often than he’d admit. But to be so up close and personal with them like this…

“I’m not even gonna lie to you, Screwball. I really wanna kiss you right now.” Peter admits defeat. Even in your polar proximity, humiliation burns his cheeks with the force of hellfire.

Knitting your brows, you narrow your eyes. And for a painfully long instant, Peter thinks he’s finally fucked up. As if confessing his desire to kiss you was somehow a step too far over the line.

Is there even a line left between the two of you anymore? Or did you both trip over it the moment you gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes?

You lean in a touch closer, quietly chuckling. Cold puffs of air fan over his lips, a needle-thin space away.

“You’re so silly, y’know that? Why do you keep callin’ me Screwball?” You ask, placing a tantalizing kiss to the corner of his lips. Like the touch of a delicate snowflake, “You make it sound like you think I’m crazy.”

“Well, okay, first of all, you gotta be some kinda crazy. ‘Specially if yer screwin’ around with me.” Peter jokes. He’s beyond winded under the teasing brush of your soft lips, “S-Second of all, it’s an ice cream thing. You ever-uhm…stop by an ice cream truck before?”

Why’s he even doing this? Making casual conversation like it’s a date at the diner. Peter half expects you to pull away. Since this is the least sexiest thing he could be doing. Amazingly, you remain where you are. Trailing kisses across Peter’s cheek, down to his ear. Leaving feather-light sparkles of frost in your wake. Still, they melt within seconds.

“Yeah. Of course I have. So?” You mumble.

He tenses as goosebumps descend down his neck. The tight grip you have on his dick doesn’t let up. Any words Peter planned on saying seem completely lost on him now.

“Uhhhh…Screwball’s the little…it’s got the-uh…gumballs at the bottom. It’s, like, a cone-”

Righteous work, casanova.

“Right. And I’m Screwball because…?”

Damn you, little minx! You know why. The answer’s totally obvious. There’s no way you’re that dense. Nah. You’re just so set on teasing Peter, tempting him to nervously ramble. Like you find his embarrassment…humorous or whatever. Pfffbbtt��…

“You messin’ with me? It’s ‘cuz it’s ice cream, yeah? No duh. And ice is, like, yer thing, babe. I dunno. It made more sense in my head.” Peter laughs in spite of himself, “Listen…can I please kiss you? Before I make even more of an ass outta myself?”

In this position, Peter can’t kiss you. Even though it’s all he can think about. You’re too busy mouthing at his neck, grazing his skin with your teeth. Fondling his cock in freezing strokes, making him whine under his breath.

Up until this very moment, Peter’s hands remained mostly still. He’d dig his fingernails into your blankets, as the pleasure of freezer burn simmered in his pelvis. But he held himself back from ever really touching you. Since this little interaction wasn’t supposed to end up like this to begin with.

But now? Well…shit.

You knead at his junk like you’re making biscuits, flicking your icy tongue across the skin of his neck. Eliciting another husky whine from deep in his throat. Peter’s pretty sure, judging by your forwardness; you wouldn’t mind so much if he touched you just a little, right? Like, you totally wouldn’t protest if he brought his large hand to the back of your head, would you?

He threads his fingers through your soft hair, tugging your head back gently. Pulling you from his neck, just so he can meet your wanton eyes again. There’s a single second of hesitation, as both of Peter’s hands claim your cheeks. That second seems to stretch for what feels like an hour, while Peter memorizes the features of your face. His racing, speedster heart leaps at the sight.

He swiftly pulls you down for a kiss. It’s clumsy as all get out. Initially, anyway. But if there’s one thing he can actually pride himself on? At the very least, he’s had a lot of experience with canoodling. Kissing you comes as naturally to Peter as running does. His skillful lips and tongue guide yours effortlessly. Coercing you into a heated makeout session. Against his own, your lips are frosty cold. Like drinking crisp water straight from a chilled glass.

Or…it’s more like he’s lapping his tongue across some kind of…slushy ice cream. Like…a Screwball cone, maybe?

No?

Fuck it. Whatever. The only difference is, you don’t taste anything like cherry. You taste like you. And Peter would argue that’s almost better. Almost. Cherry’s pretty hard to beat. It’s a tough competition.

As you fall victim to his bitchin’ makeout skills, Peter indulges himself. He touches you the way he’s dreamed since forever and a day. His hands glide thick fingers down your chilly body. Feeling every glittering facet of your suit under his fingertips. Meeting the curves of your hips, he squeezes them firmly.

“Mmmmm…this is awesome.” Peter breathes, “This is really fuckin’ awesome.” He hums into your lips, stifling a moan by kissing you again. You stroke his clothed cock a little faster, and he chokes, “O-Oh…yer so awesome. Fuck.”

“You’re really awesome yourself. But I’ve always thought that about you.” You titter, nuzzling his nose so tenderly, “The others on the team? Yeah. They’re alright. But you? Peter, you’re the coolest.” You admit with a bashful smile. After locking him in one more, passionate smooch, you pull away, “Sexy too.”

“W-Wait, really? Are you bein’ serious right now?” Peter asks, stupefied. He furrows his brows. Another beat, and he forces himself to smirk proudly, “I-I mean…well, yeah. Pssshh …of course. Why wouldn’t you think that? I’m the bomb, baby.”

Peter keeps his hands on your hips, feeling your ravishing curves. Stroking them with his thumbs. They fit so perfectly in his grasp. And Goddamn, Peter doesn’t ever wanna let go. Mark his words. Right here, right now. He’ll glue his hands to you forever if he has to.

Lowering your ass over his crotch, you keep your erotic gaze focused on his. Your intense eye contact never seems to break for even a moment. Pressing into the exposed, damp skin of his chest, you brace your freezing hands over Peter’s pecs. A filthy moan teases your lips, as you roll your gorgeous hips forward and back. Grinding into his needy bulge.

Oh.

This is happening now. Fuck yeah.

Peter squirms in place, tightening his hold on your hips. His nails tear at the tiny sequins of your jumpsuit, digging into the sparkling material. It’s such a needlessly skin tight thing, for fuck’s sake. Criminally skin tight, even. How did Xavier ever greenlight that? Peter can see the tempting outline of your pussy in it, deliciously rolling into his clothed cock. His mouth waters at the sight. Lifting his hips off the bed, he meets your slow thrusts.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, what the fuck-” He moans an octave louder.

A strangled sound catches in his throat, and you’re quick to shush him the moment it frees itself.

“Pietro, honey, you gotta be quiet, okay?”

Hushed moans pour from your parted lips as you speak his given name. Peter’s completely bushwhacked at the mention of it. Since no one ever – excluding his mom, in her more frustrated moods – uses that name. A tickling flutter erupts with a burst in his belly. He almost creams himself at the sound of that name in your voice.

“Come on. Be good for me. You can be good for me. Can’t you, baby?” You plead. Moving your hips in a painfully slow, steady rhythm.

“Fuuuuuuuck. Babe, please-” Peter begs, “Faster? Faster, please. Yer killin’ me."

Your sharp nails sink into his bare chest, manifesting more glassy shards of frost. Winter cold seizes Peter’s body entirely, infecting him with frostbite’s kiss. Peter knits his brows tightly, his dark eyes mesmerized with your every movement. The freezing solace permeating from your pussy proves a little too overwhelming. As sharp, pinpricks of cold rush through his veins; it all morphs into carnal heat.

His muscles quickly tighten, every inch of him tensing in an instant.

“Wait wait wait! Fuck!” Peter whimpers in desperation, a flurry of moans erupting from his throat. His rock hard cock twitches, pulsating under you as he cums. Leaking thick streams of his seed into his boxers and jumpsuit, “F-Fuck! I’m sorry, baby! Ohhhhh god! I’m so sorry.”

As far as Peter knows, you have no clue he’s a virgin. Until now, he was content with that. He hadn’t planned on announcing it anytime soon. In hindsight, it’s pretty fucking embarrassing how easily he comes undone. All from a little dry humping, no less.

Yeah. You’re bound to figure it out sooner or later. Yikes.

Sticky, white pearls of his cum seep through his jumpsuit, staining the material. Your erotic motions slow to a stop, once you notice the streaks sticking to your clothed cunt. Tilting your head, you raise a brow. A delicate blush swarms your neck and ears, as you stare down at Peter with genuine surprise. He tilts his head back shamefully, sighing.

“D-Did you just-” You hesitate to continue. Wintry fingertips trace over his bare chest, “Damn, Quickie, that was fast.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Peter sighs again, bringing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, “Dammit.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling blistering warmth rapidly return. Taunting him with the promise of death by suffocation all over again. Before he finally succumbs to it, you crawl over him. Knees braced on either side of his body.

“I’m…god, I’m really fuckin’ sorry about that.” Peter awkwardly stammers, “I-I just…fuck! Yer just so-”

You shush him, chuckling, “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. That was so, sooooooo hot. Really hot, if I’m being honest.”

By virtue of his blessed genes, Peter takes very little time to recover. And hell, you make it an impossible feat not to chub up all over again. Your arctic tongue intertwines with his hotter one, as you meet him in another sloppy kiss. Cold hands grasp his cheeks, quickly sliding through his hair. Dragging your nails across Peter’s scalp, you kiss him with more urgency.

Peter sneaks his hands to your juicy ass, warm palms feeling at your plush booty cheeks. He gives one of them a light, playful smack. Drawing out a squeak from you, Peter giggles into your mouthy kisses. He’s distracted enough, he almost doesn’t notice you tugging the zipper of his jumpsuit.

“C’mon, get this thing off already.” You pull the zipper down even further, murmuring through frantic kisses, “Before you die of heat stroke in my bed.”

With a hmph , Peter nods his head, “Hey, if it’s life ‘er death? Guess I’ve got no choice then, huh?” He replies, fabricating his confidence, “Just a sec.”

Peter sits up fully on your bed, his feet absentmindedly kicking a few plushies on the floor. You slide off the bed entirely. Stepping back to give Peter the space he needs. From your perspective, the removal of his sweaty jumpsuit takes less than a second. But from Peter’s own POV, it’s a thousand years before he finally pulls himself out of his clothes. Clumsily, he peels his sticky limbs free.

“Fuckin’ shit-” He curses, struggling to free one of his ankles once he’s done.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but a faint air of raw cold filters through the space of your room. With his body free of stifling clothing; Peter can finally embrace that coolness in full. It bites sharply at his skin, making him shudder. Peter inhales a slow, deep breath just to feel it all

“Oh, wow! It feels damn good in here, Screwball! Like, woahhh! I feel like I’ve been sweatin’ my balls off this whole time until now.” He says.

“That’s the most charming thing you’ve said all day.” You sarcastically chime. And he snorts.

Peter promptly rids himself of his sweat soaked shirt, aching to feel more frigid air on his skin. He tosses the drenched fabric to the floor. Left in his cum stained boxers, Peter shifts uncomfortably on your bed. Self consciously, he gazes at you with a doe eyed look. He twiddles his thumbs in his lap.

“Sooooooo…uh…a-are you gonna take off yer-uhm…” Peter gives you a once over, gesturing to your jumpsuit.

He lets his long, sturdy legs hang off the side of your bed. Watching as you take slow steps backwards, pulling that tiny, snowflake zipper of yours. Dragging it all the way down. A mischievous spark twinkles in your eye, and Peter’s heart skips a thousand beats. Even though you’re trying your best to be sexy, you’re still just as clumsy as he was.

Which somehow, ultimately makes you even sexier to him.

You peel your limbs out of your glittering jumpsuit. Revealing the underwear beneath, fitting your body in all the right ways. Peter’s adam’s apple bobs, his eyes flitting up and down your curvaceous form. Drinking in the image of you almost completely bare.

“Holy shit.” Peter mumbles, leaning back and bracing his hands on your bed.

You’re giggling again. Blessing his ears with a precious sound he’s grown to adore over the last…however long it’s been since you invited him in. Peter can’t really remember. It’s impossible to hold any sense of rational thought while watching you like this. Especially when you pull off everything except your little, lace panties. Freeing your-

Whoaaaaaaa, mama.

There they are. In all their beautiful, freezing glory. Your icy cold knockers bounce freely. And with a flawlessly executed jiggle, too. If Peter had a sign, he'd rate them a perfect ten.

The skin of your breasts is heavenly soft, dusted in a faint motif of frosty snowflakes. Nipples perky.

Peter's wondered about those suckers for ages. And you most definitely don't disappoint. He whistles, his eyes flying open. Black pupils dilating like drops of heavy ink. No matter how hard he tries, he can't tear his gaze away from those bouncy beauties.

"Damn, Screwball…" Peter grins, shaking his head, "Yer a smokeshow, babe."

Subconsciously, he palms his hardening dick over his boxer briefs. Momentarily grimacing at the texture of drying cum in the fabric. His focused gaze lingers a little too long on your totally righteous titties. You're talking again. Speaking words in that sweet voice, though they go unheard.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah!

You must have given up on trying. He barely sees you coming, as you collide your lips with his again. Shocking him out of his boob-induced daze. The moment you're in close enough range, he reaches out to touch you. Burning hot palms fondle your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples. Furrowing your brows, you squeal into his mouth.

"Your hands-" You whine, "Your hands are so hot. It's like you're on fire." And Peter chuckles a heated breath in response.

"See? And that's why we're here. Gotta beat the heat somehow, eh?" He says, his hands playing with your frosty titties. Silken and cold on his skin.

Sinking to the floor, you lower yourself onto your knees. Peter knows without an ounce of doubt; your poor knees have to be aching like hell right about now. Yet, you persist. He scoots a little further at the edge of your bed, allowing you to ease yourself between his spread legs. With one less layer of clothing in the way of your touch, the coolness feels even more crisp and harsh over his cock.

“God, you’re so pretty…” He mumbles.

Peter stares down at you in awe, curling his fingers into the sheets. Biting your lip with an impish grin, you ease his boxers off completely. As your glimmering eyes meet the full length of his cock, you're instantly enamored. His dick, colored a scarlet hue and pulsing with thick veins, bounces over a silver bush of hair.

You haven't even touched him directly yet. But Peter can already feel that freezing aura easing in close. Swiping your tongue across your plush lips, you gaze at Peter's dick like your hunger hasn't been satiated in weeks.

No words are spoken between you both. As one of your hands treads carefully. Barely touching his thickness with your fingers. You stroke him in slow, but firm motions at first. Peter arches his back in shock, the cold like electricity rushing through his veins. Arctic temperatures rapidly pump his body full of adrenaline.

Maybe that’s why he’s so into this. Being a speedster, he’s always been addicted to the rush of exhilaration.

“Ohhh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Peter moans.

Your strokes slide up to the swollen, purple-ish head of his cock. Squeezing tightly. But the tip is too outrageously sensitive. A simple, icy cold tug of it gets Peter practically seizing. White light flashes through his vision. And just like that, he’s going totally mental. He jumps with an abrupt jerk, his body vibrating.

Peter whimpers in quick gasps, “Ah! N-Not the tip, baby! Not the tip!”

You make a quick retreat, sliding your hand down to the thick base of his length. Pumping his vascular cock in a frosty fist. He can feel his blood vessels constricting with every motion. Cold creeps under his skin, bringing with it a burning sensation. Peter’s groin tightens, and his moans turn to pleading whimpers.

With a cheshire grin, you flutter your lashes over a naughty gaze. Leaning forward, you tease the smooth length of his cock with your lips. Kitten licking a vein with the tip of your tongue.

“W-Wait! Hold on, Screwball! Fuck-” One of Peter’s hands finds your head, clutching strands of your hair between his fingers, “It’s too much, baby! I can’t-”

A long, chilling swipe of your tongue brings momentary crystals of ice. Igniting the burn along his skin. Peter never thought himself a masochist. But this freaky, frosty jerk-off session has somehow completely rewired his brain chemistry. Pain never felt so good.

In all your wickedness, little minx, you refuse to heed Peter’s warning. Your mouth engulfs the scorching heat of his cock. Surrounding him in a crisp, cold shroud. Bringing upon him a vengeance of the bleakest kind. Like a frostbitten hug, sending shockwaves of pleasure fluttering through his bones. Peter’s breathing quickens.

“Ah! FUCK! Gonna fuckin-...I’m fuckin’ cumming, baby! Sorry, sorry, sorr-” He falters over broken whines.

Acting on impulse like the total spaz he is, Peter panics. Tugging your head from his cock so he doesn’t bust a load in your mouth. He lags a few seconds behind. Late again, as per usual.

Peter accidentally showers your precious lips in his cum. Painting your face in hot, messy strands of it. He writhes in place, sluggishly rocking his hips forward. The spurting tip of his dick kisses your lips, the length bouncing with every eruption of thick, sticky heat.

For a second time in a row, he’s blown his load prematurely. Impressive, in a really lame way. But, hey, even if Peter feels a little bad for glossing you in his cum. He’s gotta admit, you look drop dead gorgeous like this.

Peter quickly snaps out of his post-nut daze, his eyes dancing across your decorated face.

Ah. Actually, now that he’s thinking somewhat clearly again…it’s a little gross. He fumbles over an onslaught of apologies. Reaching to the floor for his discarded shirt without thinking, he wipes your face clean of his nut.

Wait. Fuck. Why’d he use his shirt? Shit. Get it together, Quickie!

As always, you’re just as chill about this as you have been everything else, “That wasn’t so bad. But thanks. Sorry about your shirt, though.” You giggle. But all Peter does is shamefully laugh in response.

You’re perceptive enough to catch onto his sudden hesitance. He tenses, avoiding your pretty eyes. Bouncing a nervous leg at the speed of a rabbit’s kicks. Twice now, you’ve seen him finish way too early. And though he knows in his heart you wouldn’t judge him for his lack of experience; a small part of him fears the worst.

He really likes you, actually. It’d hurt like hell if you thought less of him over something so trivial.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” You ask. Playful, but still concerned.

Peter’s heart aches in the presence of your gentle nature. Swallowing his pride, he opts to confess. And if you think him pathetic for being a thirty year old virgin? Fuck it. He’s betting Hank’s mini fridge is still vacant.

You’re resting on your knees in between his legs, tracing feather-light, frosty patterns into his thigh. Peter’s skin swiftly erupts in goosebumps again, his body never accustomed to your arctic touch. Taking a deep breath, he drops his head forward.

“I…gotta be honest with ya about somethin’. I’ts-...” Peter cuts himself off with a sigh, burying his face in his hands, “I’m kind of…a virgin. Y’know, if you couldn’t already tell. I just…didn’t wanna say anything.”

“Pfffttt …” You puff in disbelief, like you’re assuming he’s messing with you. But Peter blinks, staring down into your eyes with a look that tells you he’s all business, “You’re serious? But, Peter, no offense? I’m really surprised! You always seemed like such a player. Like, you flirt with literally everyone.”

Peter stares at you in silence. He shakes his head, brows furrowed. A timid grin curling into his lips.

“I guess? I talk a big game, yeah. And I’ve made out with a lotta girls. Screwed around a few times. But…nah. I’ve never-uh…actually, really screwed. I dunno if the timing was never right or what, but…” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Despite fighting an internal war of crippling shame.

“Well, we’ll just have to remedy this then, won’t we?” Your hand rises to his chin, thumb tenderly stroking rough, silver stubble.

His eyes fly open, cheeks swarming a bright red. A beat, and Peter’s dick already twitches to life again at the prospect of your offer. However, despite his body’s insatiable desire, he waves his hands and shakes his head.

“N-No! No, babe! Listen, you don’t have to. I really wasn’t implyin’ anything when I said…uh…it’s just…I-I’ve never told anyone. That's all!”

“It’s fine! I said I would take care of you, didn’t I?”

He swallows, caught off guard by your choice of words. ‘Take care of you.’ His brows raise high, and the cartoonishly fast pounding of his heart returns. Fluttering in his chest, hiking up to sonic speed. Peter opens his mouth to protest, to remind you that you shouldn’t feel pressured into stealing his v-card.

But you’re already pushing yourself off the floor, climbing over Peter on your bed. With your icy hand to his chest, you guide him down onto his back. He gazes up at you with an uncertain, but lustful look in his dark eyes. In spite of the significantly cooler temperature of your room; Peter’s entire body breaks out in a humid sweat.

Okay. Calm down, man. Take a chill pill. Relax.

“You got any condoms?” You ask, blunt and up front.

So. This is really happening, huh? Yeah. Peter’s gonna lose his v-card to one of his teammates. No biggie. Screwing his fellow X-Man Screwball? Totally not a big deal.

Peter swallows dryly again, an awkward chuckle vibrating over his tongue.

“Not on me, no. I don’t really-uhhh…carry those around.” He makes a hasty move to sit up, “But I can run to the store really quick and grab some. Y’wanna snack ‘er a drink while I’m at it? I could really go fer somethin’ sweet like-”

Your frosty lips capture his in yet another, intimate kiss. For the sake of Peter’s inexperience, you take your time. Guiding Peter down onto his back once more. Working with tender consideration. When your tongue so lovingly swirls with his, he scowls. Tasting the lingering bitterness of his nut. He curls his lip.

“Euuuugh! Augh! Blegh! Is that really what I taste like? Eck! I’m so sorry, Screwball. I’ll try to spare ya next time. Eugh. That’s disgusting!” He rambles, overcompensating for his uneasy nerves again.

“Next time?” You raise your brows. Supple, wet lips smirking.

“Y-Yeah? Yeah…like… pfftt …if you want…” Peter shrugs, casual, blinking puppy dog eyes, “I dunno about you, but I’m havin’ a killer time fuckin’ around like this.” He adds, fingers toying with the hem of your panties.

Reaching for his cock, you take his length into your icy cold grip. Peter jolts again, cursing under his breath.

“I need to confess something too.” You say, bashful. Peter watches your facade of confidence diminish for a moment, “Would you still wanna do this if I told you I’m just as cold on the inside?”

“Woah…yeah. Listen, that is the opposite of a problem for me.” Peter reassures you, looking between your bodies, “Call me crazy? I’m really diggin’ the whole cold thing.”

He watches your fingers hook through the hem of your panties, sliding them down your smooth legs. It’s a bit awkward for you to get them off in this position. But eventually, you’re entirely exposed.

No more messing around. This is the real deal.

Wiggling your ass, you position your wintry cunt over his cock’s swollen head. Peter’s fingers tremble as they grab your ass for purchase. Holding you steady, he keeps his lidded gaze on your pussy. Entranced in the sight of your puffy lips lowering over his tip. Barely nudging it in, giving just a little tease of what’s to come. He shivers, muscles locking, shockwaves of glacial cold racing through his veins already.

“Ohhhhhhhh …wow…” He whines, teeth clamping his lip, “Please, ya gotta gimme more than that, baby.”

“Pietro, be patient.” You chastise him, fluttering your eyes closed.

Sighs and erotic moans of euphoria rise from the both of you in unison, just as his leaking tip dives through your cushiony walls. Peter shudders again, craning his neck back. Moaning a broken, strangled sound from deep in his chest. The tight, freezing sting of your cunt causes him to tense up. Peter digs his nails into the flesh of your ass, his lips parting for breath.

“Mmmmmfffuuck. You good? You okay?” You ask, little mewls bubbling in your throat.

Through frantic, wordless intakes of breath, Peter nods.

He’s never felt anything like this in all his thirty years of life. It’s a completely new sensation. The plushiest of pins and needles constricting tightly around his cock. Or the world’s softest pillow, pulled straight out of the freezer. Sex with you is the kind he could so easily become addicted to. If it was possible to stay connected this intimately forever, he’d do so in a heartbeat. No questions asked. Totally worth the searing pain of frostbite.

You take a few moments to adjust to the length and girth of him. It feels like centuries before you’re moving, but the wait is more than worth it. Your cunt weeps around his cock, swallowing him up completely in a frosty slickness. Peter chokes, his breath hitching. The pace you set is frustratingly slow, bouncing into his pelvis in steady slams of bush on silver bush.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that. More? C’mon gimme more, baby, please. Oh, please!” He whines, submissive and needy.

Sitting up a little straighter, you balance your cool hands on his chest. Peter’s skin is all raw and red, frostbitten from your previous teasing. It’s a little painful now, actually. Leaving a tingly burn. But the stinging pain registers as pleasure in Peter’s speedy brain.

Your pussy molds perfectly with the thick shape of him. Roughly shocking you with a surge of dull pain, Peter’s cock knocks straight into your squishy cervix. His expression contorts in overstimulation, his mouth falling open. He wets his lips with his tongue.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ ride me. Mmmmm yeah~” Peter moans, “Yer so fuckin’ cold. Shit-” His moans steadily trail off into whimpers.

“Should I stop? Is it too much?” You halt your movements for a second too long.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ stop.” He groans, animalistic and ragged, “Ohhhh~ Please don’t stop.”

As you thrust your beautiful body into his lap, Peter follows your lead. Driving his hips against your ass with each bounce of contact. Overshadowing that sultry melody of Pink Floyd with the lewd smacking of skin on skin. Your cunt hugs his cock in a grip tight enough to induce more freezer burn. But it’s such an alluring feeling, he bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

Peter’s brown-eyed gaze rakes down your body. Intoxicated with the way your titties bounce and your pussy sucks the ever-speeding soul out of him. He has to mentally-prep himself so he doesn’t cum too soon again. But the piercing cold compressing his dick sends thrilling pulses through his limbs. Erotic pleasure burns deep in his gut.

“Pietro!” You cry. Riding his dick and mewling soft kitten noises, you circle your little clit with your fingers, “Want me to cum on your cock, pretty boy? Wanna feel this tight, little pussy cum for you?”

Ohhhhh. You can’t do that to him. Dirty, little minx. He’s never heard such filthy words like that come out of your mouth. And the way you sound, how you look touching yourself on his cock; It all triggers a carnal instinct in the recesses of his mind.

Peter lifts his hips in a display of super strength, abusing your cervix repeatedly with his cock. Pounding your pussy so fast and hard. With a force deep and rough enough to make you see stars. A filthy squelch of a sound echoes from inside you.

“Oh my god-” Peter’s face contorts in needy desperation, brows creasing, “Please? Wanna feel you cum, baby. Need you to cum on my dick so bad.”

Sitting up on his elbows with his mouth hanging lazily open, Peter brings his fingers to his drooling tongue. His eyes are half lidded and cloudy, almost rolling back into his skull. He reaches out, the wet pads of his fingers meeting your cute bud. He buzzes his digits in a scorching vibration, knowing how sensitive you are to his heat. Easily coaxing you towards release.

“HOH! FUCK-” Peter’s eyes flutter in shock, “ Ohmyfuckingod that’s really fuckin’ tight. ”

His body tenses hard as stone. Feeling you clench around him while he fucks you so deep he thinks he’s reached your stomach. Within a few, measly seconds of teasing vibrations on your clit; you’re cumming. Coating his cock in a wave of crisp slickness. You tremble uncontrollably, tilting your head back and crying like a siren of the arctic seas. Singing a mantra of the name Pietro.

Peter grips your hips hard with both hands, sinking his blunt nails into your skin. Animalistic instinct overflows his mind as soon as he’s reached his own peak. Ecstasy tumbles over Peter in an overwhelming crash, much like an avalanche. And just as he’s pumping you impossibly full of hot, thick ropes of cum; something happens.

His release burns inside you, pooling in a milky heat. A stark contrast to the freezing temperature constantly flowing through your body. Your nails scratch red lines into his chest, manifesting glass crystals of frost. They burn like hell, and Peter hisses. One, final slap of your ass against his lap, and –

A ripple of explosive, winter cold rushes from your body in a flash. The bombastic wave coats your entire room in powdery snow and sheets of ice. Turning the small space into a glorified freezer. It even hits the record player, slowing the final tune of Obscured by Clouds to a creeping stop. Piercing cold fires through Peter’s lungs, and he chokes on it.

…D…Did that really just happen??

Glancing around frantically, he pushes himself up on your bed.

A soft, tingling blanket of snow drapes his body. Peter sputters, quickly brushing as much of it off as he can. You’re still sitting over his lap, his softening dick tucked safely between your pussy’s plush walls. With every puff of warm air from his lungs, Peter can see his breath fanning like smoke through the air.

“Woooahhhhh, babe…” He nudges you on the shoulder to get your attention, his expression wide eyed and bewildered, “Are you seein’ this shit?”

Recovering from your numbing state of euphoria, you lazily scan your room. You gasp, though it sounds more like a really cute squeak; covering your mouth with a hand.

“Ah! What the hell did I do!? I’m sorry! Oh my god, Peter, I’m so sorry!” You say, dropping your face into Peter’s frost-bitten chest.

He hisses as you lean into his sensitive, scarred skin. And before you can spout off another flurry of sweet apologies – a noise catches the attention of you both. Outside, the two of you hear the unmistakable sound of children’s laughter. Joyful cries, followed by playful giggles and screams. You raise your head, meeting Peter’s doe eyes with a questioning look.

Narrowing his eyes, he pats your thigh. Signaling you to hop off his lap.

Clumsily, Peter zips around the room in a blur, searching for something to cover himself up with. But his clothes are all caked in snow. And not to mention a little something else. Peter has to resort to a blanket stuffed underneath all the others on your bed. Untouched by your surprise blizzard. He cloaks himself in the blanket, appearing at your door in a fwip.

Discreetly, he pulls the door open.

Or, at least, he makes an attempt. It’s completely frozen in place, sealed with ice around the lock and hinges.. Why is he even surprised at this point? Peter tugs the handle once or twice with barely any strength. And when that doesn’t work, he jerks it open with a harsh flex of his muscles. He pokes his fluffy, silverette head halfway out the door. Looking up and down the hallways.

Only to find…

Your orgasmic snowstorm reached places far beyond the confined space of your room. Looks like Christmas came early this year. The hallways of Xavier’s mansion are all drenched in frosty spreads of snow. It’s not nearly as much as what’s accumulated in your room. But it’s enough to stir up the students and teachers. Many of the kids run around excitedly. Bouncing, cheering, celebrating.

And who can blame them?

To those unseen forces of the universe out there: thanks for blessing us all with the power of Screwball's ecstasy.

Out of nowhere, the X-Men’s laser eyed leader makes his appearance. Scott comes skidding to a halt outside your door just at that moment. He balances himself with a hand to your door, a genial smile on his face. A fuzzy fust of red tickles the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Across the hall, Logan leans casually against a wall. Puffing a cigar, wearing a thin undershirt that compliments his jacked form a little too well. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his fitted jeans.

For a moment, Scott doesn’t seem to register why Peter’s even in your room.

But in this life, one speedster can only be so lucky.

“Wh-...Peter? Hey-uh…where’s-” Scott mentions your name, and continues, “I wanted to give ‘em my thanks for doing this.” He gestures over his shoulder to the mess of snow covering the walls and floors, “Some of the kids were getting really sick from the weather. And I know Xavier's gonna be pissed, but-...” His voice slowly trails off.

Scott’s smile falls for a beat. But Peter finds it hard to read his emotions without seeing his eyes clearly. Those sunglasses must do him loads of favors on a daily basis. If he tries, he can gauge what’s going through Scott’s head based on the look of surprise that crosses his face. Followed by a sly, knowing grin.

Summers is an intelligent guy. It doesn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

Especially with the way Peter stands in your doorway. He’s draped in a blanket that clearly isn’t his, shoulders bare underneath. The surface of his skin burns cherry red in some places. His hair is a tousled, fuzzy mess, and his cheeks are flushed bright pink.

Peter awkwardly swallows, avoiding the vibrant gaze of Scott’s red-tinted sunglasses. He directs his attention over his shoulder instead, making accidental eye contact with Logan. Wolvie arches a thick, quizzical brow, his eyes glancing over Peter’s blanketed form.

He really hadn’t meant for anyone to find out about this. But it looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“You kids better be using protection.” Scott jokes, patronizing.

Which is funny, coming from him. Peter’s got ten years on him at the least.

“Uhhhh, yeah. I’ll totally tell ‘em you said thanks. We cool? Bitchin’. Later, Summers.” Peter rushes through his words ultra fast, before slamming the door shut behind him.

That’ll be a rough one to explain later. But hopefully no one’ll be nosy enough to pry. Besides, Peter doesn’t wanna think about it right now. Since, y’know, he kinda just got laid for the first time. Which is really fucking awesome, now that he can stop and really digest that it happened. And with someone he’s been crushing on too.

Maybe he’s luckier than he thought.

Peter presses his back against your icy door, letting the thick blanket covering his body fall to the floor. Leaving him butt ass naked in your freezer of a room. He rakes his fingers through his hair, cheesing a goofy smile to himself.

“What’s goin’ on? Were you talkin’ to someone?” You ask, emerging from your bathroom and brushing snow off a towel.

“Oh- pfffttt …just Summers. Yeah. He-uh…wanted to tell you thanks. ‘Cuz you kinda went all blizzard on this whole place and now it’s, like-” Peter makes a wide gesture with his hands, mimicking the sound of an avalanche falling. Or, that’s what he tries to do, anyway. He’s never been the best at charades.

“HUH!? What are you-” You rush to your door. Those pretty titties of yours bounce with every step. And Peter ogles them shamelessly. Poking your head through the door, he overhears the sound of your gasp. Followed by the shyest little, “Heyyyyyy, Logan.”

Before you’re closing the door again, marching to your bathroom with your head cast down in shame.

“Xavier’s gonna kill me, dude! I can’t believe this!” You whisper-shout.

Your bashfulness and frustration are so cute, Peter has to refrain from snickering. And as you reach the doorway, you stop yourself. He catches the motion of your eyes checking him out, before your gazes meet again. Peter smirks.

“Uhm…how was your first time, by the way?” You ask in a quiet, uncertain tone, “Was it…okay?”

Oh, you cannot even be serious right now.

Peter gives you a weird look. Staring at you like you’re some strange, newly discovered entity from a far off universe. Really, you must be, if you’re gonna question a good time like that.

“Okay? Okay?? ” Peter appears before you in less than a blink’s time.

He wraps his strong arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body. Grinning confidently, he darts down to kiss your frosty lips.

“Screwball, baby, that was a total rush. Are you crazy? It’s not every day I make somebody cum so hard they kickstart an early winter, y’know. Not bad fer my first time, if I do say so myself.” He waggles his brows.

I’m really glad I could help you out…” You mutter, smiling so sweet.

Your fingers trace the burns littering Peter’s chest with a feather-light touch. Even the faintest brush makes him wince in pain. But he’s not ashamed to admit it’s totally worth it. What’s a little freezer burn and frostbite between friends, huh?

Or, between…whatever the two of you are now.

“Oh, you did wayyyy more than help me out.” Peter winks, kissing you once more, “You rocked my world babe. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay? I had a great time.”

You saunter off to your bathroom then. And Peter reaches out to playfully smack your ass as you walk away. He admires your gorgeous figure in all its naked glory. His eyes following the jiggle of your booty cheeks.

“Yer still takin’ me on that date, right? Dinner and a movie?” He asks, startling you with his sudden appearance in the bathroom. Peter presses himself into your back, standing tall in comparison to your height.

“Can we hold off? Do you think you can wait until the city isn’t on fire?” You meet his dark eyes in the mirror over the sink, “And it can’t be Howard the Duck.”

“No. It’s most definitely gotta be Howard the Duck.” Peter brings his warm hands to your shoulders, thumbs gliding along your soft skin. He leans down to pepper your sex hair in kisses, “I won’t accept nothin’ else, got it?

“Mmmhm. Shouldn’t I be the judge of that, Peter? Since, like, you keep implying I’m the one paying.”

He scoffs, slowly gliding his large hands over the irresistible curves of your body. He gives a mischievous grin through the mirror, his look oozing speedster charm.

“Who said anything about paying?”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #txt #smut

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fear-is-truth · 2 months

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𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼 ﹒peter maximoff

𝜗ϱ| 𝓣ags: fem!reader﹒oral (f receiving) ﹒goofy peter

your best friend, upon discovering that you'd never been eaten out before, made it his personal mission to change that. brown eyes, wide with faux innocence flickered up to yours as he chewed on the inside of his mouth. heat rose to your cheeks, and you gave a slow nod. peter immediately dove headfirst between your legs, making you jolt in surprise— you were so, so sensitive.

he licked a hot stripe up the inside of your thigh before his tongue swiped over your folds, licking your slit up and down with a small hum of satisfaction. it shouldn’t have turned you on so much— he was your best friend, for christ’s sake. still, it didn’t stop your hands from tangling themselves into his silver hair.

the feeling was so fucking incredible, it encouraged you to buck your hips into his mouth. peter groaned at this, eyes rolling to the back of his head. warm hands settled on your outer lips, spreading you wide open before pushing his tongue inside.

“like how my tongue feels inside you, hmm?”

he mumbled, lips brushing against your inner thigh as he moved his mouth, lapping you up greedily like he was attacking a melting ice lolly.

you threw back your head, moaning at the way his nose rubbed against your overstimulated clit. peter couldn’t help but smile; the corners of his mouth lifting slightly but never slowing down with the task ahead. lips latched around your clit and sucked with careful precision, the tip of his tongue caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“peter-”

“mhm?” he tightened his grip on your thighs, inhaling deeply before he drove his tongue inside you again. the couch shook slightly as he humped his hips against it. your breath caught on the edge of a scream as you desperately moved your hips in sync with his mouth.. you wanted this to last as long as possible, and you tried; you really did.

“oh fuck…nugh- peter!”

you dug your heels into the couch when the wave hit, washing over you in a series of spasms that left your whole body twitching out of control, racked with pleasure. peter raised his head up from between your legs, wearing an impish look on his face.

“how was it?”

you laughed, reaching out a hand to poke at his damp nose.

“it was amazing, and you know it.”

he grinned and scrunched up his nose like a rabbit. using the back of his hand, he wiped the remnants of your arousal from his chin before licking it all up.

“only the best for you.”

𝜗ϱ| 𝓐/𝖭: first time writing for peter! sorry it sucks.

TAGLIST:@slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @officerballs @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @doll3tt33 + send an ask to be added!

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #Evan peters

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marchsfreakshow · 24 days

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Lover Boy [Peter Maximoff]

Fluffy n teasing smut // maybe a drabble?

You and Peter have had that coffee he promised. Then, a bit more. Now the speedster just wants a yes or no to his question.

Suggestive. -18 be warned.

Part 2? To 'Gotta Dance' ? Depending on the way this goes it could be read as a stand alone. And totally not inspired by recent events that happened with me and my boyfriend ;)

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"it's a simple question you 'lil princess." He hummed, holding up a small book out of your reach. Whenever you got close to grabbing it, Peter zipped to another corner of the room, grinning cockily.

What was this dreaded question that had him keeping a book out of your hands??

"do you wanna do it again?"

Flustered. That's all you were when he asked that. When you didn't answer, he found a way to torment you with it. Take away your favourite book, and keep it out of your loving hands until he was satisfied. "It's very simple, c'mon."

You shook your head in stubborness, and jumped up on the spot to grab your beloved book. "Just gimme my book Silver."

"No."

"fuck youuu." You mumbled, throwing yourself onto the couch behind you. That cocky grin of his grew as he held the book behind him and leaned down in front of your face.

"You did." Oh god. "About, 10 hours ago?"

Now, incredibly more flustered than earlier, you immediately pushed Maximoff away, rolling on the couch to get away from the closeness of his face. Looking up at you before standing up, Maximoff smiled smally. "You want me that bad huh?" The blush on your face almost transferred to his own face. As soon as the speedster was distracted, the book was snatched out of his hands and into yours.

"never said that."

"oh but you did, Silver Sliver." Book in one hand, and another, trailing up Maximoff's chest with a sly smile on your face. "Wasn't you, allll of last night, whimpering out for me?"

Peter's mind went blank as he thought of nothing but the last night you two shared. "Exactly."

No response from the silver speedster until he pulled you closer to him, chests pressed together. His lips instinctvely met yours, and that beloved book of yours was dropped to the floor. Your back on the couch, and his knee wedged between your thighs.

"round 2 already Maximoff?"

He nodded desperately and you just smiled against his lips.

"trousers off then mister."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @coentinim @nahoyasboyfriend @bluerthanvelvet444 @tatelangdonsweater @fear-is-truth @newwavesylviaplath

#evan peters #peter maximoff #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #xmen #xmen apocalypse #x reader #suggestive #fluff

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luuuuucyscorner · 6 days

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Can we get some Peter maximoff bf hcs pls? I miss him so much😔💔

Don't we all nonnie! I can't stop re-reading silverzoomies fics!

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

peters your dream guy if your into funny guys.

he can be a little immature sometimes

nicknames include; hot stuff, babe

will open doors and pull out chairs for you

hes a complete dork

you have to tell him "just because you can, doesnt mean you should" because this man will literally run to thailand if you say you want pad thai.

dont get me started on his ADHD

this man cannot sit still

always bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers

ARCADE DATES!!!

he would be playing lazer tag and accidentally shoot you, then beg a little kid to shoot him so he could join you. (i read this one somewhere)

LOVES PDA literally always has his hands on you somewhere

would love you if you were a worm

He's the GOD of spooning. he'd switch between little and big spoon depending on his mood.

he fell first AND he fell harder

is an absolute menace whenever you go shopping together

he's like a little kid

"can we buy this?" "no peter" "what about this?" "no peter"

ALWAYS remembers important dates

except that one time he forgot your brithday

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doll3tt33 · 2 months

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I’d be the prom queen if crying was a contest ٠ ࣪⭑

he has clammy hands but he called me adorable so how can I say no? 😩

The greeting message:

Sorry for the cliche ass title but I couldn’t think of anything more fitting than this tbh 😭😭😭

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yandereunsolved · 1 month

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⍣ ೋ Yandere Peter Maximoff ⍣ ೋ

"You can run but you can't hide, babe. They call me Quicksilver for a reason."

#x men #peter maximoff #yandere peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #yandere #yandere aesthetic #aesthetic board #reader imagine #yandere imagine #imagine #reader insert #gn reader #x reader #drabble

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 10 months

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Sweet Dreams Are Made of This pt.18 Dark Peter maximoff x Fem Reader (mob AU)

Guess who's back!!

Summary: Peter has felt like a piece of him has been missing ever since he was taken away from his mother to be raised by his father. But when you seem to fill that piece there’s no way he’s ever letting you go

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.1K

His eyes were unwavering as he took it in and after a moment you broke the silence. “What is it?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes moved to look into yours, dark and unreadable. He made you wait a moment more before replying in a hushed voice that set you on edge. “You look like you belong to me.” Peter held your gaze, you waited for it to drop like it always did but they held sure. “Say it.”

“What?” You were taken aback by the tone shift in his voice.

“Say it.” His hand reached out to play with a strand of your hair, winding it tight around his finger as he stepped closer, his hips pressing against yours. He dropped your hair and his hands came to grab yours, moving them to hook around his shoulders. When he released them you let them hang limply. Peter clasped his own hands behind your back, tight and unbreakable. “Say you belong to me.”

The way he spoke sent a shiver all the way down your spine, dropping your heart into your stomach. It was different from the way in which he normally spoke, there was something darker laced in his tone. It reminded you of Erik, of the way everything he said was final and unquestionable. It reminded you that despite his moments of softness there was still a part of him that you had yet to see. Something cruel that he did his best to keep under lock and key, but in his moments of desperation managed to rear its ugly head.

You had glimpsed it once, during when you first tried to escape. You saw how quickly he turned to violence when his soft spoken cries weren’t enough. You had let yourself forget that moment, of how close he was to snapping, how badly it had hurt when he flung you to the ground. You had lost yourself in delusion and allowed yourself to get comfortable. Last night was proof of that.

Peter is something much more dangerous than his father, while Erik’s actions are justified and calculated using logic, Peter’s were guided by emotions. Emotions which he seemed to have very little control over. Peter’s dark gaze continued to stare you down until you said it. Yet he still regarded you with that unsettling gaze until you locked your hands behind his neck and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. You felt the tension release from him and his eyes fluttered closed. He leaned down to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.

You did your best to keep your body relaxed, praying that he didn’t hear the pounding of your heart. Something had changed in him since you left. He had never been this way unless you had provoked him, now it seemed as if it was bleeding into his everyday without him knowing. You wondered how much longer it would be before there was nothing left but the version of himself that his father had created. You didn't know if you’d have any leverage over that version of him, you weren’t sure if your old tricks would work anymore.

Peter nudged his face against yours, a noise rumbling in him as you returned the gesture. For now it seemed you still had some, but you weren’t sure how long it would last. It wasn’t as simple as it was before. You couldn’t just play house with Peter because his father commanded it and do the bare minimum to keep them both appeased. Peter no longer seemed to be satisfied by your meager attempts at affection, he wanted it all. Peter’s obsession had grown in your absence and something darker had grown to accompany it. To ensure that you did as he wanted. You hated to see what would happen if you didn’t.

You needed to get out of here, you weren’t sure if you could keep doing this. You had barely been back one night but you noticed that Peter was becoming attached, even more than before. Meaning that there was no way you could leave, unless you could get him to come with you.. But you had no idea how you were going to convince him to leave. You knew you had to try before it was too late, this new side of him scared you. And you knew that if he wouldnt leave you’d have to go without him. You slightly shook your head, trying to shake the thoughts from now. The motion didn’t go unnoticed by Peter. He lifted his head, resting his forehead against yours. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” You mused, petting his hair with your shaking hand. “Are you hungry, let’s get something to eat.”

************

You didn’t know how to tell how much time had passed, all your days seemed to bleed together into one. Everyday was some variation of the one that came before. It usually started with Peter waking you up to get breakfast, which Peter prepared each day. The first day he did it, it had taken you by surprise, you had presumed that he knew very little about any domestic tasks, assuming that Erik had deemed them beneath him and had discouraged his son to learn them.

You had asked Peter how he knew how to cook and his motion of whisking the eggs had paused for a moment. His brow pulled together, as he looked down at his hands. “I don’t remember.” He mumbled, looking at his obscured reflection in the half whisked yolks. You had dropped the topic after that day, noticing that for the rest of breakfast he seemed lost in thought, as if trying to recall where he had learned how to cook. After that Peter would take you back up to his room, where you would lay together.

Peter’s head laying on your chest, ear pressed close to hear the beating of your heart. You had noticed that after a while your breathing would sync, and any time you’d try to change it he’d follow. An unsettling revelation. During this time Peter would ask you vague questions, you knew he didn’t like to discuss your life before the manor but his curiosity would sometimes drift his questions in the direction. Asking you about past memories or about the kids you taught. But while he was allowed to ask you questions about your life before you were never allowed to do the same.

Every attempt to ask him about his life before was shut down immediately, like that day in the garden. He just pretended that you had said nothing at all. And each day he would leave at the same time, picking himself off of you as he moved his hair back into place with a sweep of his hand and stood up, pressing out the wrinkles in his shirt and dress pants. He would look at you with a forelong glance as he left, mumbling how he didn’t want to leave you. You would tell him that it would be okay as you softly kissed his cheek and let him close the door behind him. The act nauseated you, it made you feel as if you were a wife character stuck in an endless sitcom loop, bidding her doting husband goodbye each day as he left for work. But after a while you became numb to the action and a soft smile sometimes graced your lips at the way it would light up his otherwise dull eyes.

The first day he left you tired the door and found it to be locked from the outside, there were no other points of exit. You had tired the window and were delighted that it opened. But it was short lived when you saw how high up it was. Escape was futile. As the days passed you spent the majority of your time trapped in Peter’s room only leaving to eat during scheduled meals with him. You were no longer free to wander the manor, so you had no idea if anyone else had returned or if it was only just you and Peter.

You had no idea what Peter did all day, sometimes you could hear soft piano music coming from somewhere in the manor, those were your favorite days, you would lean against the wall and listen. The music was always soft and sad, it pulled at your heartstrings but despite it all you always longed for more. Heart sinking when it stopped and you were left with nothing but your thoughts.

Your least favorite days were when you heard the voices of men enter, you could never make out what they said but you could hear the malice in their tones. And there was always one who was different from the others, it was desperate and at times would scream once the doors were shut. It never lasted very long but each time it did you pressed your hands to your ears and waited for it to stop. You didn't know what happened to those men, after the main doors shut it stopped all of a sudden but you knew that it wasn’t anything good.

You also noticed that on the days the piano music played Peter would come back earlier, his actions as possessive as always. But there was a gentleness to him, he let you move at your own pace and never asked for more than what you gave him. But on the bad days he would come back with a hardness in his eyes, it would soften some when he saw you but no matter how much you coddled him it never fully disappeared. These days Peter was needier and more demanding with your affections.

But there was something else that was there, a sort of guilt. He wouldn't quite look you in the eye and when he spoke it was hushed. He would lay his head in your lap as you combed through his hair. Hand gripping your thighs in an uncomfortably tight manner. His hair was always wet, on the bad days he always showered before he came back to the room. But no matter how much scented body wash he used you could still smell something metallic on his skin.

Like tonight, you tried to ignore it as you brushed through his hair. “How was your day?” You asked.

“Fine.” Peter never said much on these days, just wanting to be with you after whatever it was that he had to do. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course.” You hummed, continuing your movements. As the days in captivity passed you found yourself being able to answer his questions with ease. He closed his eyes at your touch.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled, turning his head slightly to look at you. “I wish I could stay here with you all day.” He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss into the palm. On these days Peter was more bold with his affections. “I wish it was just you and me. That all I did all day was stay in this bed with you.” Your eyes widened at his confession, snapping you out of your domestic trance.

“What if it was.” You whispered, tracing the bridge of his nose. His brow knitted together and he regarded you with an unreadable look. You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to voice your ideas about leaving and him going with you. But the longer he looked at you the more you doubted the chances of him agreeing. “Nevermind, I wish you could spend all day with me too.” He smiled at that and went back to enjoying your gentle touches.

After that night you began to feel your desire to run waning, you had tired every means of escaping the room and found there to be none. And as you weighed your chances of escaping from Peter himself the hopelessness of it all seemed to crush your very will to try. You began to grow comfortable to the predictableness of each day.

That was until you awoke one night with a start, the feeling as if you were being watched becoming true as you regarded the dark figure in the doorway with wide eyes. A pair of familiar eyes and a cruel sneer filled with brilliant white teeth piercing through the darkness. “Did you miss me?”

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missuswalker · 4 months

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i love your interactions between reader and quickie soooo much omg. would you be able to write something where either quickie or reader are being super needy and the other is just like amused by it/teasing/making fun of them for it idrk im bad at requests ahh

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 || 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

༄ summary: you do your best to subtly hint towards what you want to do with peter, but he knows you too well and catches on fast (he thinks he’s the funniest man on the planet

༄ warnings: smut, teasing, piv, fingering, oral (fem receiving), lack of protection 🤡(great way to come back after a month)

༄ notes: WHAT ILY AND THIS (has anyone picked up to the fact that the notes are literally just me interacting with the anons) (also i missed you guys 😘)

peter never really could sit still, it was something you’d quite literally never seen. even in his sleep, he would roll around, kick you, sit up abruptly, or just mumble. that was why you weren’t surprised that he payed you little attention, though he’d been the one to invite you over. he stood in front of his (awfully loud) pac-man machine, eyes fixed on the screen, hands moving quickly to keep himself from losing. to be completely honest, when he called, you’d expected to get dicked down as soon as you stepped foot in the basement.

yeah, that hadn’t happened.

while it was sweet that he just wanted to be in your presence, you wished that he would, at the least, pull himself away from the game that kept his attention longer than you did. you knew it wasn’t anything against you, he just wasn’t typically a ‘sit down and hang out’ kind of guy. while that could be the case on occasion, he preferred to hop around his room like he’d never been in it before.

standing from your place on his couch, you make your way behind him, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. he doesn’t even flinch, eyes flickering across the paths of the pink and blue ghosts. “hey,” you say, resting your head in between his shoulder blades, the skin of his back bare warm, shirt having been discarded hours ago. “hi,” he responds, letting one hand come back for a split second to gently brush against your arm.

you sigh, giving a quick eye roll. you weren’t annoyed with peter, more annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t picked up on any of the hints you’d dropped. except he absolutely did. he knew exactly what you wanted, but he was playing a game. he wanted to see how long it would take for you to just say that you wanted to have sex. he always thought it was funny how you’d beat around the bush until he gave in, but this time, he wasn’t going to just hand it to you on a silver platter.

pun intended.

“will you be done soon,” you ask, tone sickly sweet. he did his best not to snicker at your desperate attempt to gain his attention, keeping his face forward. “if you want me to be,” he answers, purposefully losing the game. he turns around and wraps you up in his arms, kissing the side of your head. after a few seconds of silence, he pulls away, hopping over the back of the couch and landing in a laying position, turning on the tv. you follow, crawling into the tight space between your idiot boyfriend and the couch.

“what do you wanna do,” he hums, flipping through channels of shitty tv shows. “i dunno,” you shrug, trailing your fingers down the side of his arm. he cranes his neck to look at you, eyebrows raised. “you can’t think of anything?” you could hear his smirk in his tone of voice, it dawning on you that he definitely knew every move you’d been making. you scoff, smacking him upside the head. “you asshole,” you laugh, shaking your head. “what? i didn’t do anything!” he defends, a silly smile on his face as he covers his head.

when you’d finally figured out that this had all been some sort of game to him, you could feel yourself growing a little bit embarrassed. “peter,” you groan, nudging him. “what?” he asks, the smirk from before still there. you simply blink at him, pursing your lips. he was really starting to piss you off, but at the same time, it made you need him even more. “if you don’t want to do anything, i’m gonna take a nap,” he says, getting more comfortable.

you throw your head back and internally screaming at him. “peter, stop being a dick. just… please,” you huff, shaking him as if he’d already fallen asleep. “please what? please have sex with me because you’re so sexy, funny, and strong? is that what you were going to say?” he teases, turning around to face you now, that shit eating grin you were so used to making its way onto his sneaky face. “no, i would never say those things about you,” you say, deadpanning.

“oh, okay. goodnight, then,” he says, shutting his eyes and dramatically pretending to snore. “no, no, no, peter,” you whine, smacking his chest. “just admit it and i’ll wake up. i know you want me, you don’t have to be so stubborn, it’s not like i blame you. i am pretty damn sexy,” he says, not moving an inch. “oh my god, i hate you.”

you had expected him to just give up, open his eyes and let you have it, but he didn’t, adding to your frustration and the dull ache in your core. he was being mean, purposefully, and it was getting you riled up, despite how much it pissed you off. “fine, i want you, peter, please, i need you,” you sigh, voice monotone. he keeps his eyes shut, though his eyebrows raise as if to say, “try again.”

“okay, you win, i need you, just fuck me.”

his eyes fly open, smile never wavering. “wasn’t so hard, was it?” he snorts, sitting up. you were now in his spot, peter hovering over you, a hand by each side of your head. he peppers your face with kisses, a hand coming up to push your hair out of your face, lips finally landing on yours. “can we speed this up a little bit? you’re supposed to be super fast, aren’t you,” you say, silently begging him to just slam into you. “little desperate, but if that’s what you want,” he jokes, grinning against your cheek as he reaches under your (his) long shirt, fingers hooking in the waistline of your panties and sliding them down your legs, holding them up like a prize.

“very cute, have i ever told you how much i like pink?” he hums, stalling just to aggravate you. upon seeing your unamused face, he stuffs the underwear into the pocket of his sweatpants. spreading your legs open to get a better look, laughing at the sight before him. “you’re already wet? i haven’t even touched you, yet.”

if this man didn’t just move on already.

like he could sense your thoughts, he wasted no more time, sliding a long finger into your near-dripping cunt, finally giving you a sense of relief. with you letting out a heavy breath, his eyes find yours again. “all this just from thinking about me?” he asks, sliding another finger in, slowly dipping his head under your tshirt, lips connecting with your attention deprived clit. “you’re an asshole,” you grunt, hand finding his silver locks. he chuckles against you, the cool breath from his nose tickling your warm skin.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groans, pulling his hand away and sucking the slick off of his fingers. his hard dick pushed at the fabric of his sweats, wanting so badly to escape its confines. “i might just need you more than you need me,” he huffs, sitting back against your shins, untying the strings of his pants and pushing them down his thighs, briefs following. once they’re down his legs, he strokes himself, the sight of you looking so pretty making him twitch.

“peter, please.”

you’d lost count of how many times you’d said that in the last few minutes, but you didn’t have time to count when you were so close to getting exactly what you wanted. “i know, i know,” he nods, pushing your shirt up and moving your hand to tell you to hold it. he tugs at your bra a bit, just enough to let your tits spill out. he leans down, placing a sweet kiss to your stomach, looking up and giving you a wink, before gently pulling your hips up. “turn around for me,” he instructs, turning you around. hands still on your hips, he pulls them upwards, your ass in the air.

scooting up behind you on his knees, he places one kiss to your ass, pumping himself, and lining up, head of his cock pushing into the folds of your pretty pussy. once he’s all the way in, he thrusts in and out slowly, one hand on your hip, the other on your asscheek. “faster,” you mumble, face pushed against the couch cushion. “you sure?” he teases, but listens, picking up his pace.

his room felt humid, the slapping sounds of your skin meeting filling your ears. he practically rams into you, your loud moans making his hips stutter. “shit,” he whispers, reaching down to rub at your clit with rough fingers. “oh my god, peter,” you whimper, reaching back for the hand that was on your ass, squeezing his fingers. the tight squeeze of your cunt when you came made him lose his steady rhythm, burying his cock deep inside of you. his release fills you up, his fingers finally intertwining with yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the back of your hand.

“didn’t know you needed me that much.”

“do you ever shut up?”

“not that i know of.”

i’m back hello 😻💋 feel free to continue to request, i’ll be writing again 🎀 try not to be so vague yall i have one that quite literally only says “smut pls” 😞

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quickandsilvers · 2 months

Note

Consider: something like this w/Peter.

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

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

[Cue the touch bit here]

Idk, I'm just,,,,, thinking,,,,, 😳😳😳

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

Medical Malpractice and Awkward Interactions🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT 🔥

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

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

Word Count: 9905

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

—————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can anyone guess what year it came out?"

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

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

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

Christopher abruptly stopped and faced back to you.

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

“1980?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just you, babe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————————————————

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

But that was a pretty damn hard promise to fulfill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blinked. “Eh?”

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

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

“I’m fine, babe.”

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

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

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

“Easy there, tiger.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What choice did you have but to comply?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nghnaawhaaaaat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feeling any better, sir?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a- f-fuck.. good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, please-lemme cum in-"

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

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

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

Suddenly, the hot spray of water turns cold and you gasp, arching your back and clamping yourself down on Peter’s cock with all the strength you could muster, tipping him over the edge.

“I-ngh.. Shit!” Peter panted and his hips faltered, a warmth soon blooming in your cunt, filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your quivering body.

The slow, rocking rhythm Peter set with his hips soothed you, bringing you slowly down from your high while he descended from his. "Fuckin' hell, babe," he murmured, and he kissed you on the lips, then the forehead.

The room is full of the scent of arousal, and it makes you feel high up in the clouds, filling your head with the syrupy-sweet fuzziness of speedy contentment.

You must have zoned out for a little bit, because the next thing you’re aware of is the sound of the shower being turned off, and strong yet shaking arms scooping you up off your feet. You were deposited outside the walls of the shower, and then a soft towel is being worked around your body, collecting the droplets of water falling off your hair and frame.

"Let's get yer warmed up, babe."

Before long, you’re bundled up in a bathrobe, hair perfectly brushed out, and being placed gently onto the couch you had been making out with Peter on not too long ago. The volume of the TV had been lowered, allowing you to hear Peter's soft mumblings of praise in your hair as he lays below you, arms cradling you to his chest. His sweatpants feel comfy against your bare legs, and your palms rest on the cotton of his white t-shirt he had changed into.

“Can we watch The Empire Strikes Back?” Peter murmurs into your hair, making you grin as it takes you back to the day you met him in the auditorium. Humming contently, you fish your hand down the side of the sofa in search of the tv remote. You furrow your brows however as you feel something rather furry brush against your fingertips.

Pinching it between your two fingers you pluck it out of the couch, inspecting the small… seed?

Peter’s eyes follow your gaze as he gasps softly in remembrance, craning his head to the side to see an abundance of dandelion seeds littering the couch. Peter frowned. He had forgotten about the strange flower he had plucked due to the abrupt slab of concrete disrupting his day. The seedlings must have fallen out of his uniform when you were tending to his wounds.

“Shit! That was meant ter be a surprise, babe.” Peter frowned sulkily, plucking the puffball from your fingertips. “I found these weird lookin’ flowers on the mission and wanted to show them to yer. Thought i discovered a new species er somethin’.”

Despite your heart warming at the kind yet failed gesture, you laughed. “Peter, honey, they’re dandelions. Weeds.” You grinned, watching as his mouth forms an ‘o’ in realization.

“But.. at least they’re rare, right?”

You thin your lips out into a line whilst shaking your head, trying not to laugh as the speedster groans, throwing his head back.

“Ugh, I could’ve totally avoided that wall if it weren’t fer these fuckin’ things,” Peter drops the dandelion seed, letting it float to the polished wooden floor. “All that fer nothin’!”

You snuggle further against him, grazing around his bandages with a confused expression. “I do appreciate the gesture, but I thought you got these from the fight? Not from.. A wall?” You appear more perplexed as you try to imagine the scenario. “Did you.. run into it or somethin’?”

Peter sighed. Another point to add too his ‘you royally suck, dude!’ tally chart. How many times had he embarrassed himself before you now, five?

“No, it-” He grimaced “-it slammed into me.” He watched as you squinted your eyes, picturing how it went down. “Don’t fret though, babe, I totally showed it who’s boss. Knocked some sense into it.” He grinned, stroking your drying hair.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” You grin, tracing further down the trail of wounds and scratches. “Seems like it knocked more sense into you, though.”

Peter scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal before looking down at you, smiling lopsidedly. “Do I get a lolly fer bein’ so brave, doc?”

He smirks at your flushed expression and you still for a moment, before reaching into your bathrobe pocket and pulling out the panties you had strewn across the bathroom earlier. Peter's eyes widen.

“Here, take these.” You say simply, lazily dropping the material into his hand. Peter beams, face dusted pink. He’ll find some use for those, you’re sure. It won’t be a surprise if you find them framed up in his room, next to his Greta Van Fleet poster.

The next morning you change, treading down the corridor into the living room. Scott is slung across the sofa’s armrest watching the news as Jean sits on the other end by his socked feet, reading a book. Kurt and Ororo share a large armchair nearby, also watching the TV as Peter leans against a wall, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Not like he needs it anyway.

As you walk in Peter raises his mug at you, nodding and grinning toothily as you greet him back. You silently hope he hadn’t mentioned the prior events to the others.

You ask Scott to turn the volume up and he groans tardily, reaching down the back of the sofa to fish for the remote. You go into shock, however, when he furrows his brows, pulling out a lacy pair of underwear instead. Your underwear.

Scott holds them up in the air with his index finger and thumb, flushing wildly and looking around the room in search of answers. Jean lowers her book, giving you a disapproved stare before continuing her new read of the day. Ororo squeals in laughter and Kurt goes a deep shade of bluey purple, his gaze anywhere but your panties.

“Well, what do we have here?” You could hear the smugness through Scott’s voice as you look wildly across the room to Peter. He only hums, as if in question, no doubt reminiscing on the memories of last night as he sips his coffee, pleased.

You meet his eyes, desperately searching for something to say as he winks at you, strolling up behind the couch to inspect your underwear like he didn’t know whose they were.

Sighing in relief, you thought you were going to get away with it, the embarrassment slowly ebbing out of your head; that was until Peter’s voice piped up.

“Babe, I swear those are your panties, right?”

Okay, maybe Peter was a little bit of a jackass.

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

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frankenkyle19 · 7 months

Text

-The No Longer Virgin-

Kinktober Day 5: Virgin!Peter Maximoff x reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings/description: loss of virginity, handjobs, blowjobs, premature ejaculation, 69’ing, oral male and fem receiving, whiny Peter, slight sub!Peter, awkward Peter, cute consent, probably ooc Peter, sorry.

posting two days early because I finished it and why not?

Peter totally wasn’t insecure about anything ever. Him? Pfft, no. He was the most confident, not insecure person who ever lived. So what if he was a virgin? So what if he hadn’t actually ever gone all the way? Or gotten a blowjob.. or a handjob… or even any over the clothes touching…

That was besides the point! It didn’t matter- not like he actually cared. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. He was always down to clown it just… He hadn’t found the right person. Apparently being a mutant speedster wasn’t a turn on for most people. Who would have thought?

Oh well. He’d lived his life this long without it, who’s going to say he couldn’t live the rest of his life being perfectly content with his hand or his stupid fleshlight? He’d live it’s not like-

But oh when he saw you for the first time he lost his damn mind. Why were you so pretty? Why did you talk to him? Show him any sort of attention? Peter wasn’t used to it, and it immediately made his brain short circuit. He wasn’t the brightest in the bunch, but he knew you had to at least like him a little to want to hang around him.

But why? Peter still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you actually wanted to hang out with him. Was it some form of pity? Did you feel bad for him? God he hoped not…

You two became fast friends, but Peter couldn’t help but want more. Not in a creepy way, just like a hey I’m in my 20’s and still a virgin and now that a girl is showing me attention my body is reacting like a teenage boy going through puberty-

God he needed to get a grip on himself. Get it together Peter! Keep it in your pants for Christ's sake.

And of course what he didn’t know was that you loved teasing the hell out of him. Seeing his cheeks heat up and the way he stumbled over his words. It was priceless.

The first night you kissed Peter, he was positive he’d died and went to heaven, or was in some super realistic dream. There was just no way this was real. Why would you want to kiss him? Him of all people.

But boy did he kiss back. His lips molded against yours perfectly as you draped your arms over his neck, humming against his soft lips, eyes closed as you attempted to deepen it.

Peter was loving it. He was convinced he could stay like this forever. Well that was until you attempted to climb into his lap and he freaked out and zoomed off in a blur of silver.

He finally had someone who wanted to mess around with him and now he was too shy? What was wrong with him!

It’s not that he didn’t want to- he was just incredibly nervous. Like heart beating out of his chest, stomach churning nervous. What if he did something wrong? As far as he knew you didn’t know he was a virgin, but if he kept up this act you’d find out in no time. How embarrassing…

But still, every time you tried to initiate anything other than kissing, Peter either made an excuse or just straight up ran off. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you why he acted the way he did. What would you say? What would you think?

Even once you two officially started dating, he was super shy and jumpy. He didn’t even really like to sleep in the same bed with you. Cuddling? He was fine with, but there was something so intimate about sleeping in a bed with your partner that he just wasn’t ready for.

He never really thought he had problems showing or giving affection, but the longer he was with you the more he realized he was terrified of all of it.

You were so patient with him, which made him feel even worse. He saw how desperate you were to be with him but poor Peter couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.

He wanted to. He jerked off every night to the thought of you, of your pretty face and how you looked at him during your makeup sessions. It had him cumming in surely a world record speed.

Peter researched why he felt this way. Why couldn't he just be with you the way he wanted. Like dude, the image of the two of you naked and sweaty, rocking against each other? It really got him going, but the reality of it seemed too much for his poor brain to be able to process.

He came to the conclusion that he was scared of intimacy. Or maybe he was just nervous to have his first time. Some odd combination of the both. He had to get over it, right? He couldn’t stay a virgin for the rest of his life. Especially when he had a smoking hot girlfriend right in front of him.

He had to find a way to get over it… He was determined now.

Finally, you two had been dating steadily for three months now. Three whole months with no under the clothes touching. Or over the clothes touching either if we’re being honest.

You had kind of clued in now that Peter was nervous about being with you in such an intimate way. You never pushed him. When he was ready, if he ever was, he would let you know.

So that’s why you were a bit surprised when during one of your frequent makeout sessions, when Peter began to harden in his sweatpants, he didn’t pull away. You noticed how his breath sped up, but instead of running off, he stayed put.

Your hands fell to his thighs gently, testing the waters as Peter pulled away from your lips to catch his breath. He whined quietly, barely able to be heard as his hips subtly arched into the feeling of your warm hands.

Before you went any further though, no matter how much he seemed to want it, you decided to ask him how he was feeling in the moment.

“Peter? Hey, if you want to I’d love to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you aren’t ready, that's okay too.” You said quietly, reaching up to cup his cheek.

His skin was warm and red under your touch as he nuzzled the side of his face into your palm, sighing softly as he closed his eyes.

“I uh- I do. I’m ready, I want to.” He said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“I’m sure by now you’ve realized I’m a virgin.” He mumbled, blushing impossibly darker as he huffed quietly, his chest rising and falling under his t-shirt.

“Peter, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s okay.” You hummed, pulling your boy closer in an attempt to give him some sort of comfort. You could see how he was fighting himself in his mind, wrestling between the choice to do this, or to run away. Again. He was tired of running away.

“I just- I don’t want to do a bad job- I really want to make you feel good. And I’ve watched porn and shit like that but it- it’s not the same and I really don’t have any clue what to do.” He whispered, the saddest most desperate look on his poor face.

“We can go slow and I can help you. Anytime you have a question you ask, okay? I will never ever judge you. And if you want to stop, that’s okay too. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Your words were exactly what he’d needed to hear these past few months when he was too afraid to even talk to you about any of this. He was finally ready. You’d need to walk him through it but he was ready.

“Okay, I want to. Please- need it.” He whined softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he weakly bucked his hips forward in search of friction of any kind.

Slowly but surely you let your hand fall to his crotch, rubbing over the bulge in his pants gently, trying to coax out more of those beautiful noises from his throat.

Peter tensed for a half a second before he shuddered, leaning further into you as he whined.

“F-fuck-“ he choked out, bucking his hips up, causing your hand to slide farther against his covered length.

“Feels good-“ he mumbled weakly, body tingling with pleasure as he tried to keep himself composed to the best of his ability.

“More please-“ He grunted, already so worked up and you found it so adorable. He was in for the time of his life.

You pawed at his length with a bit more pressure and you saw the way that his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to touch you, but was nervous to make a move.

You moved your hand from his crotch and took both his hands in your own before placing them on your breasts.

Peter’s eyes widened to a near impossible size and you were worried they might actually pop out of his head at this point.

Damn. You had bomb titties. Like ooh mama they were amazing.

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of his excess saliva before he started drooling or something-

He squeezed your breasts in each of his hands, reveling in the warm, squishiness of them. He could stay like this for the rest of his life. He was sure of it.

You let him explore your body for as long as he wanted, touching every part of you he could reach in a curious exploration of something he’d so badly wanted to do for so many years.

This was it… He was going to lose his virginity tonight. And he couldn’t wait.

Your hand came down to gently massage his length once more before finding the elastic of his sweatpants, dipping your fingers under it so slowly.

Peter was too enamored with your breasts to realize what you were doing at first. He panicked a bit when he finally realized, worried that maybe he wasn’t big enough- did his dick look weird? When was the last time he actually inspected himself? So many worrying thoughts flooded through your mind but the second your hand crept under his pants and past the waistband of his boxers to finally touch his cock without any restrictions?… He was on cloud nine.

He’d never felt something like this. Sure he had his own hand to compare it to, but yours was so soft, so warm and so so much better than his own.

It took everything in him not to nut the second you touched him. It really did. He was so desperate. His cock twitched in your touch as you did your best to stroke him inside his boxers, thumbing over the tip to collect the pre-cum there. You couldn’t see it, but he felt like he had a nice cock. A big, bulbous tip, a nice, decently long shaft, and thick veins that ran across it.

Your mouth watered a bit at the thought of tasting him, and you were just about to. But much to Peter’s embarrassment, a few more strokes had him cumming hard over your hand, making a mess of his boxers.

He froze, body tensing as he bit down on your shoulder to muffle the noises that fell from his mouth. Holy shit… How embarrassing. You barely touched him and he came.

You gasped softly in surprise, not expecting it so quickly, but his name was quicksilver after all. Maybe for more reasons than one? Speaking of quicksilver, he was hard again almost instantly. Thank whatever gods there were that he recovered as quickly as he did. So at least he was ready for round two in the blink of an eye. His cock twitched with interest once more as you removed your hand from his pants, looking at the white creamy fluid that covered your fingers.

“What do you want to do now?” You asked him, watching the adorable fucked out expression on his face. He sat up a bit taller and cleared his throat, recovering from his sudden orgasm.

“I uh- I’ve always wanted to uh- sixty-nine? But I haven’t Uh- you’d have to tell me what to do to make you feel good. Like I obviously know about the clit- pshhh, duh, but like I want to make sure I’m doing it right.” He mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as the cum covered the front of his boxers.

You slowly peeled your shirt off your body, Peter gawking at you the whole time.

You gestured to his clothes and in a second, with a soft ‘fwip’ he was naked in front of you. Well damn…

He blushed softly, looking at you for any signs of disappointment, which you certainly didn’t show.

His cock was just as hot as you expected it to be. It curved slightly to the left, and was… Well, probably the prettiest cock you’d ever had the pleasure of viewing.

It wasn’t too thick, but was long, and god you couldn’t wait to feel it inside of you. Patience.. That would come later.

“Pretty.” You whispered, which sent shivers up Peter’s spine. Pretty? What? You- Jesus he could barely think.

You unclasped your bra and in a split second he was on you again, his large palms cupping your breasts as he kneaded them gently.

He looked at you curiously before he let his lips ghost over your hard nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His mouth felt delicious against your breasts and you arched your chest into the feeling, hands gently grabbing his silver hair.

He spent several minutes exploring your breasts before he pawed at your jeans, trying to urge you to take them off.

You did just as he wanted, unbuttoning and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in just your little panties.

And lord, Peter almost came again. The sight of you nearly completely naked made his cock ache. He needed something. Now.

He grabbed for you, getting you into a lying position as you kicked off your underwear, letting it fall somewhere as he manhandled you into the perfect position. You were facing his length as he faced your core, both of you in a lying position. Peter nearly drooled at the proximity to your dripping cunt, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and taste.

“Go ahead baby.” You said gently as you took his cock in hand once more, stroking it firmly as you spit onto the tip.

Peter almost forgot all about tasting you the second your hand was in contact with his cock, but luckily he hadn’t.

He scooted forward a bit, letting his tongue press against your core, barely breaching your folds. He swallowed hard, your slick covering his tongue in an intoxicating flavor that he could find himself easily getting addicted to.

He parted your folds with his tongue, delving inside as if he’d done this hundreds of times before. His nose brushed against your clit as he licked and sucked to his heart's content, mouthing at your core with a desperation you’d never experienced.

You pressed your lips to the tip of his throbbing cock and his breath stuttered against you, lips wobbling.

His eyes were closed and his hands rested on your thighs as he tried to get his tongue as deep inside you as humanly possible.

He was losing his ever loving mind. The mixture of you on his tongue and the way you licked so gently against the tip of his cock had him seeing stars.

He pulled away for a moment to breathe and watch as you kitten licked his cock.

He whimpered softly, bucking his hips against your lips, causing his cockhead to slide across your cheek, smearing his pre-cum against your skin.

“S-sorry-“ he mumbled, biting down on his bottom lip as you finally took his tip into your mouth, suckling on it like it was some kind of damned popsicle. The vacuum your mouth created against him had him crying out, thighs quivering as he teared up from the pleasure.

Your tongue gently traced the slit in his head and it had Peter crying out in sensitivity, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop or even be gentle, because he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the slight pain it brought along with the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck fuck fuck- ooooh god baby oh sHit-“ he decided to shut himself up by burying his face back in your pussy, eating you out like his life depended on it.

You had to say, for his first time, he wasn't bad. Not at all. In fact he was actually decent. He found your clit nearly instantly and suckled it into his mouth, being as gentle as could be while still pleasuring you.

You bobbed your head over his length, coating him in your saliva as he weakly bucked his hips forward, causing you to gag slightly.

Peter still couldn’t believe this was happening, part of him thinking this was some wet dream that his mind had dreamt up to torture him with.

But nope. It was real. So real. Too real if you asked him.

And soon enough he was close for the second time that night, body shaking with pleasure as you suckled on his cock. Dear lord, he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much.

“Y-you gotta stop- I’m gonna- oooooh I’m gonna bust baby-“ he begged, hips desperately flexing as he shuddered.

You just continued your assault on his poor cock, milking him for everything he had, and he came once again, costing your mouth in his salty release.

He threw his head back and gasped, unable to catch his breath for several seconds. He thought he was going to die, but by some sort of luck, he survived. He was alive and well. So much better than well in fact.

He shivered as you popped off of his length, wiping your mouth as you swallowed his release and god damn, that was so hot to him.

He sat up shakily, breathing heavily as he blinked slowly, bliss overcoming him as he tried to calm himself down.

Twice. You’d brought him to release twice already and he still wanted more.

There was just one last thing to do, and Peter was a little nervous, but ready.

He wanted to fuck you.

He sat up, glancing around your room curiously. The last thing he wanted was for the two of you to have to stop because you didn’t have protection. As much as Peter knew he could probably pull out before he came, he in no way wanted to risk it. Not a chance.

“You don’t got a Uh- a condom do ya?” He asked, chuckling softly as he fidgeted with his hands.

“You think I don’t? I’ve been waiting months for this Peter-“ you said, reaching over into your bedside drawer and pulling out a little foil packet, tossing it to Peter. He tore it open and carefully slid it on his length. It felt weird, tight but not bad. Just a new feeling, just like everything else that he’d experienced today.

You laid back on the bed, your breasts bouncing so perfectly as Peter stared for a bit too long, losing his train of thought as he so often did.

You cleared your throat, snapping Peter out of his trance like state staring at your bomb as hell titties. Okay maybe he shouldn’t say it like that- your magnificent breasts. Was that better? No.. no it definitely was not.

The way you laid on your back, wiggling your hips upwards made Peter lightheaded and he found himself crawling towards you without a thought, pulling you into a kiss, his cock nudging at your entrance. His body was shaking a bit and he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or nervousness. Maybe both? Yeah.. yeah probably both. Because holy shit, he was really about to do this? After today he’d no longer be a lame twenty something year old virgin! Yay! That had to call for a celebration of sorts.

He took his cock in hand, giving it a few firm strokes before placing it back at your entrance, giving a gentle push as you cunt sucked him in. Your wetness mixed with his saliva made the best lube as he slid right in with very little resistance.

A heavy gasp fell from your lips as with his first thrust inside, you felt as if the air had been knocked right from your lungs. He was hitting your cervix with ease, a bit of pain coming from just how far inside he was.

You gripped onto his shoulders as he began to thrust back and forth slowly, the feeling quite literally too much. You were so warm, so fucking tight and the way his cock slid in and out of you was a real sight to behold.

He gripped the sheets by your head to steady himself. The last thing he wanted was to collapse and crush you or something embarrassing like that. That’d almost definitely ruin the mood.

Except you were sure he could do just about anything right now and it wouldn’t ruin the moment. He was so far inside you you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around Peters waist, pulling him closer as you cried out with each of his perfect thrusts.

Your moans were music to his ears and he swore he could record it and listen to it on repeat every second of the day. You shouldn’t even be allowed to make noises like that, considering the effect it had on poor Peter.

“Fuuuuuuck you’re so warm- my god-“ He groaned out as he thrust into you, his pace getting progressively faster and a bit rougher. You were definitely going to be sore later, but it would all be worth it.

You smiled softly and scratched at his shoulders gently with your nails, dragging a moan from his throat as his hips stuttered.

He’d find a pace and then stutter every few thrusts, humping into you with the desperation of an animal in heat.

He couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this all these years. Sure people had told him sex felt good but this was more than just good. This was heaven.

“Mmm, so good for me Peter, r-rub. Rub my clit-“ you whined out, pressure building in your core with each thrust, his groin bumped against you, tingles of pleasure spiking through you.

Peter did exactly as you asked, one of his hands coming down to rub against your clit when suddenly he had the most devilish idea.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in concentration as he began to buzz the pads of his fingers across your clit as he grinned, knowing the effect it would have on you.

You yelped in surprise, eyes flying open as you looked down to see what he was doing. Oh. You hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility but it was so good.

“Peter- baby I-I’m close-“ you managed to choke out, arching your back to meet each of his thrusts, your poor abused pussy clenching around him in desperation.

“I’m close too- fuck cum for me baby- cum for Quickie-“ He let out a breathless laugh as his thrusts lost their rhythm even more, his thighs shaking as he felt himself just about to tip over the edge.

You weren’t sure if the two of you came at the same time, but it had to have been pretty damn close because the second you saw stars behind your eyelids, you felt warmth inside you as Peter released into the condom.

Once the two of you rode out your releases and caught your breath a bit, he pulled out of you, pulling the condom off his sensitive length and tossing it into the small trash can at the edge of the bed.

He collapsed against the bed, chest heaving hard as he turned over to look at you. He was a wreck, sweaty silver hair covering his forehead and poking him in the eye as he blinked. His whole body was hot to the touch, glistening with the smallest sheen of sweat.

“That was fucking amazing. Holy shit balls.” He panted, looking at the ceiling as he attempted to process what had just happened. He was no longer a virgin! Woohoo! Now no one could continue to make fun of him for it!

“Shit balls?” You questioned, shaking your head as you laughed, smoothing Peter’s hair back out of his face before pressing a kiss to his nose, grinning.

He snuggled close to you despite being sweaty and gross, closing his eyes as he breathed heavily, exhausted. It was another new feeling to him. He wasn’t usually tired and rarely ever slept, so for the first time in a while, he felt like he needed a nap. And a Twinkie, but a nap first.

“That was so good baby- thank you- I gotta sleep, feel like I’m gonna pass out.” He said groggily, pressing kisses to your skin in an almost delirious way as he fought to stay awake.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Peter. Sleep.” You cooed and he cuddled closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms. You felt so safe, and Peter just felt at peace.

His new title was ‘the no longer virgin!’ And he intended to wear it proudly.

#evan peters #evan peters icons #peter maximoff #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #quicksilver smut #xmen quicksilver #quicksilver

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jellyluvr · 11 months

Text

Fantasies within tapes 2

- Peter maximoff x fem reader ⋆ ˚

So sorry for the wait!! I know some people probably want the part two so here it is.

Also, do you guys want long fics or short fics? Medium? Lmk ♡

Warnings: heavy smut?, peter being silly, oral sex, and fem reader!

Summary: the video was stuck on your mind and you couldn't help but want to watch it again..

It had been a few days since the porn incident. I mean, it wasn't like you had only been thinking of it... but you have. It had been all you could think of. Why did Peter even watch porn? Why did he have such a weird porno...?

So yes, you did go back down into his basement for a look-see. Peter wouldn't know.. he was upstairs, probably eating cheetos and coke.

You took each step down the stairs carefully. You were afraid you'd get caught.. that same anxious feeling filling your stomach. It felt like you could throw it up. But, you continued down the stairs until you saw the obnoxious colors of his room.

Muttering something to yourself, you sat back down on the carpeted floor just where you had been last time. "Oh fuck.." you mumbled. This isn't the best idea. Maybe you should just look for a magazine..? This was all so frustrating and scary. You wanted to see the tape again. It was practically the only source of dirty things you had. Plus, you didn't like the magazines. Grainy sex tapes were an upgrade.. but definitely not the best.

Scooting up on the carpet, your bare thighs rubbing against it, you grabbed the box full of the tapes.

And sure enough the neon yellow tape was in the corner. Just how you had left it. You put your hand in the box and grabbed it, pausing while you stared for a moment.

Maybe you shouldn't do this. Maybe this is a horrible idea, and Peter's gonna figure out you were looking at his porn.

But, you pushed the thoughts away and huffed as you put the tape in the cassette deck. Cussing to yourself you pressed play.

You felt your mind roam of the possibilities. What if he catches you? What if he gets really mad? What if..?

But, the screen flashed to same scene as last time. The woman gripped the sheets in fists, her body moving with the man's. He pounded into her, her moans quite loud.

You couldn't help but feel heat rise to your face while you watched. You liked it. You liked watching this girl get her guts rearranged. You were a virgin, a very horny one. A very bold one, too. Your thighs pushed together, the heat overwhelming your cunt.

You let out a soft moan while you watched this poor girl get ravaged in the white silk bed. You almost felt desensitized...

"I didn't know you liked porn too?" A familiar voice said, not far behind you. Your head darted into the direction, and sure enough, it was peter. He had a huge grin while he continued to eat his bag of cheetos, his fingertips getting coated in the orange goodness.

You didn't know what to do. He had caught you.. and you were just sitting there, flustered as ever.

"Don't ah.. worry 'bout it." He said while his eyes went down to his bag while he looked for a cheeto. He seemed so nonchalant. So calm..

"I'm uhm.." Your mouth was a little open while the girl kept moaning in the background. You just stared for a while. You didn't know what to say. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

"Yknow, that's pretty bad. You shouldn't be doing things without permission. And you had to have snooped to find that. Reallllll bad..." he chuckled, huffs of air escaping his mouth while he looked at you. You were bright red. You didn't know what to even think. Was he mad? What was he gonna do? Should you say something..?

But, those thoughts slipped away while your cunt reminded you of the unbearable heat is was trapped in. You were drenched in your arousal. You could feel it, and you knew exactly what it was. The wonderful, powerful ache above your wet folds.

"Mmm.." You sighed, trying to cope with the neediness of your pussy. You didn't even realize that peter was still there. Before you even knew it, the cheeto bag was gone, and he was a bit closer behind you.

"What was that?" His head turned slightly while he licked his fingers, cleaning them of the orange gunk. He still had that slight smirk. That know-it-all type one.

"Nothin'." You responded quickly. Maybe he was angry? You couldn't tell. You were too enveloped in your aches that you didn't even register the bulge in his pants. The very obvious bulge.

Then, the moans and slosh sounds in the background stopped. Peter had disappeared for a second, but in the blink of an eye, he was back in the same spot. The room was filled with silence and very thick sexual tension.

"What were you doin'? Yknow, the porn n all.." He chuckled a bit but he was completely serious.

"Uhm..." You began to talk, but you didn't know what you say, really. You were too afraid peter would be angry. But now, as your eyes shifted down, peters bulge was very obvious in his stupid, kind of cute leather pants.

Peter noticed how your eyes shifted, and his smirk grew a little before in the blink of an eye. You were on the bed. And before you could even do anything, peters hand slipped down your shorts, into your panties, and right above your slick heat.

You whimpered at the sudden touch, but you didn't try to move away. Peter looked up at you, realizing how wet you were from seeing that video.

"Oh- wow.. you really liked that.." he snickered, a few huffs of air coming from his nose.

You were just on the bed, your legs open and peters hand in between them. You didn't even know how to process what was happening.. your best friend was touching you? You just couldn't register it, and again, peter quickly threw your shorts off, leaving you in your drenched panties.

"Ooo momma.." he looked down at your panties and the undeniable heat coming from them. Why did he have to make this so embarrassing.. so awkward...

"Uhm.. Peter could you -" his head was in between your thighs instantly. Your panties were somewhere in the room and you gasped at the sudden pressure there.

Peter made a soft hum noise while his tongue slipped through your wet folds and lapped at your clit. He looked up at you, his eyes full of lust.

"Mm~!" You squeaked, squirming a bit. He was going too quick. Your body didn't know what to do, so you grabbed onto his silver straight hair and held onto it for whatever closure that didn't exist.

You moaned more as peter continued to move his tongue in such ways, but he lowered his head, his big nose pushing against your clit and his tongue licking at your wet entrance.

He slurped and sucked on your cunt while you whined. "Ooh- fuck!" Your body shook with the pleasure that followed, your eyes rolling back into your head. Peter moved his tongue up and down on your entrance while he shook his head, his nose overstimulating you.

"Peter!" You squeaked, your breathing picking up. You squeezed your fists into his hair while he moved, and finally, you came. All over his mouth and tongue. Your hips buckled and pushed into his face a last time before he removed his head from your thighs.

"You look so pretty like that.." he purred, his hand moving up to wipe his mouth.

You shook with the coldness hitting your hot, sticky mess between your thighs. And your legs went open, your head resting against the mattress while you looked up at the orange arch over peters bed. Your breath quivered while you shut your eyes.

"Don't snoop next time, princess." Peter got up from the bed before kissing your inner thigh and leaving swiftly.

Peter definitely wasn't mad.

───────────────────────────────

Sorry for the shortness again!! :(

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silverzoomies · 3 months

Text

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you. You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...” His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight.

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt #im terrified this is like...not as decent as my usual but whatever !!

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