#peter maximoff drabble

[bohnerrific69]

── .✧ naked (drabble/headcanon)

pairing: peter maximoff x fem!reader

words count: 1.0k | warnings and tags: suggestive themes (there's no smut btw), voyeurism, genitalia/body (peter) descriptions. english is not my first language (im still learning by self-thaught!)

⟣ masterlist | author's note: unbeliavable that the first thing of that i write AND post here it's just some quick silly headcannon/thoughts off peter horny behavior. 🫠 right now i have too many wips on the queue to finish, so maybe in the future i rewrite this as a oneshot properly! (enter my taglist here)

Peter is the kind of guy who, when reaching the peak of his independence having his own house, and when the summer arrives with its dreadful heat waves, would simply take off his clothes and walk around the house naked. Well, at first he got a little apprehensive of doing that, staying on his nice boxers for a few days - only two - till finally letting his body free as mother nature blessed.

Until a while later, a moving truck showed up at the neighbor's empty house and he saw a beautiful and hot girl, you, moving there. He even greeted and welcomed you to the neighborhood. At first he was unsure to talk to you all of sudden, but then it's not like he hadn’t started bumping into you on the street almost every week chatting with you and discovering how easy was to made you laugh at even the silliest things making every encounter more enchanting than the last one. I’m sure these quick encounters were pure coincidence... Unknowingly, getting Peter attracted into you even more than he thought.

But on another hot summer day, walking around the house naked, he came across something unexpected, he saw you through his open window… Well, that wasn't the surprise, you were his neighbor, it was quite common to sometimes see you by the window. The unexpected factor was... that you were looking exactly like him, perfectly naked just like mama gave you life. You was stand up distracted with some magazine in one hand and a lollipop in your mouth while listening to a song and moving your hips sensually following the beat.

And on rare occasions, this being obviously one of them, Peter stopped moving, stooding freezed there without moving a muscle with wide eyes and mouth dropped open, his face turning pink as fast as it could, stunned by the vision of that gentle girl with such an innocent smile and shy attitude when was nears him, to be honest seeing you like that baffled his brain, a thought of you being in that situation not even pass near horny Peter's mind, but certainly turned everything on him on fire.

Okay, it was her house and she lived alone, but with the window open?... Y-yeah, Peter wasn't the best person to talk about this topic now.

Everything in his mind and body was acting so fast, his heartbeat? Oh gosh if someone could hear, it would probably sound ticking so fast like a bomb ready to explode... But nothing made him move until you stopped looking at the magazine in your hands and saw him by the window too, the windows being at the same height and directed front to one another.

Your reaction was almost the same as him, freezing still while your brain tried to collect the informations of his pretty toned body that his lucky mutant genes (and too much X-Men training) blessed him. The jacked abs with pretty biceps too, the divine slutty waist highlighting his v line, the happy trail with silver pubes and-

Oh. Oh good lord... He was fucking turned on.

His dick was awaken and glued on his abdomen just by seeing you. Aforehand you could get on with your analysis, you notice his cock twitch slightly making you return to reality and your conscious remembering your situation right now. But before this could make you react, Peter got free of his trance milliseconds earlier than you, in the blink of an eye he was no longer there, his powers made him simply evaporate from there.

In the panic you just screamed and runned out of camp of vision from the window, dropping your magazine in hands and stumbling on some other ones scattered on the floor, making you fallen ridiculously on your bed, quickly getting into a fetal position and covering your face with the hands like that would help you protect yourself from the embarrassment, of course that not works and you just feels all your body be engulfed by a heavy shame and feeling your cheeks burns, you get one of your pillows and just screams and curses into into it.

After freaking out, you wanted to check out if he was still there, so still feeling the rush of adrenaline now with your legs trembling by the scare that you just got, you get out off the bed and crawled on the floor till were below the window and sitting on your own heels and pulled the curtains close. You sighed nervously, getting on your knees and hiding behind the curtains, you opened a crack into it so you could spy with one of your eyes if he was still there, and… Nothing.

His window still was open but there was no one on the room, you got away from the curtains and sit on the floor with the back against the wall looking at any point of your room, feeling a million thoughts running in your mind nonstop like “What the fuck just happened?”

While focusing on your breath, feeling your heart pounding on your chest, reasoning that despite the embarrassment that… You kinda of like it?... Liked that your cute neighbor that you find smokin’ hot attractive, but never had the courage to say anything, saw you like this and was being so affected by it, being fucking turned on, with his big brown eyes and pink flustered face looking at you so shocked but... admired? Quite hard to know, it was everything so quickly, but you hoped that it was, his dick was sending an obvious message.

Now focusing on what matters… Good god what was that perfect body?! If you could pull him, you sure that would be the luckiest woman alive.

Being weirdly satisfied you laid on the floor, covering your mouth with one of your hands and coming down from your high, starting giggling like an idiot and kicking your feets on the air so embarrassed by the situation but thinking how funny the life is and experiences are not individuals, like as walking naked in your own house because the weather was hot and run into with your hot neighbor by the window doing the same thing.

Well, let's not think for now off by the fact that he lived at the house by your side. And probably tomorrow you would have to say good morning to him.

— as it is my first "fanfic" thing that i write and post here, just tagging some mutuals to boost the post. sorry if i'm bothering! 🤎🦋

@lemoniiiiiii @fear-is-truth @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @silverzoomies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @acrosstheunivcrse @tiffysdeath @wcnderlnds @evvyyypeters-fics @evanpeterswifeyyy @evanpetersbf @frankenkyle19 @taintandviolent @enchanting-evan

[homicidal-mother]

Warnings: MDNI, Smutty

-

Your back hits the plush surface of your mattress, rose petals recklessly scattered from the sudden force, the wind nearly knocked out of you with Peter's weight shoved into you, the motion fast enough to make you nearly dizzy. Giggles erupting into the air while you tug at his messy silver locks, earning an embarrassing little noise that sounds similar to a whine from the man.

"Easy there, Quickie... I would preferably like to not end up in the hospital on Valentine's Day."

"Sorry, babe... Y'just look too good. Fuck..."

You had surprised Peter for Valentine's Day, planning to have a nice romantic night in... Rose petals scattered and you in a pretty new set of lingerie. However as per usual he got a little bit overly excited, his hard on rubbing against your thigh as he peppers sweet kisses down your neck.

"Gonna make y'feel so good... Promise. Just gotta feel you... The things you do to me. Damn."

Yeah... This new set of lingerie won't survive very long. Oh well.

-

[delusional-fantasising]

Warning: NSFW, slightly clingy Peter Maximoff, Peter is a desperate and a virgin

Peter was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, his eyes drifting along the details as his hand went over the cold side of the bed where you should be yet you were upstairs. He shouldn't be so clingy but he wants you down here with him, he wanted to pepper kisses amongst your skin.

He feels a bit... frisky today but like hell he would tell you. He was too scared of saying, 'Yo I kinda have a situation. You down to clown?'

Plus his sisters and mother were home, he would die if they came down to the basement and get an eyeful of him fucking you into the mattress.

Peter let out a frustrated whine, snatching a pillow to bury his face in it. He wants to get laid so badly, his batman sweatpants getting a tad but tighter as a tent forms. He didn't want to think about it but hell he thinks you are a banging hot babe. Somehow snatching you up was a feat in his books, he was a horny 20 year old virgin that is too scared to ask if he can fuck his partner of 4 years.

He thought about it, you on top. His hands squeezing your thighs, squelchy sounds as you ride him. He thrusted up a bit getting zero friction as he just subtly humped air. He wanted to just bury himself in you, deep enough to press against all those sweet spots. He could only imagine the sounds that would leave your mouth, he was practically about to make himself cum just thinking about what you would feel like as you unravel all over him.

He has to ask this question before he practically goes insane.

[ticifics]

Heya!! I loved your peter maximoff music fic and if you are back on your peter obsession, can I request something with him and reader going on a date and facing backlash from rude people who don't like seeing a mutant in public?? Make it as angsty or happy as you like! Thank you!!

Silver Blur

Peter Maximoff x f!reader

Summary: “I’m a failure, you know that? I have nothing. Still live in my mom’s basement. I steal stupid shit because, I don’t know, my brain doesn’t know how to work any other way. I’m weird. And, to top it all off, I’m not even really human.” He looked down at his hands, long and nimble fingers, as if they carried something dirty, something that couldn’t be fixed. “And you… you’re everything.”

Warnings: fluffy, hurt/comfort, est. relationship, no use of y/n, prejudice towards mutants, a nasty guy, a bit of 'aggression' (totally deserved), insecure!peter, human!reader

A/N: hey love! i'm glad you liked that fic and i hope you can like this one <333 we have a little bit of angst, but i couldn't make it a tragic ending. and yes, my god, i watched x-men again just to see him and he is without a doubt the highlight of the movie

The diner had a nostalgic feel to it, even though you were too young to be nostalgic for anything there. The neon lights reflected off the chrome counter, the jukebox played an upbeat melody in the background, and the smell of greasy fries and burgers lingered in the air. It was the kind of place that suited him—half retro, half chaotic, a space that seemed to exist outside of time.

Peter sat across from you, silver hair catching the colorful glow, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His silver jacket, an essential piece, gleamed under the fluorescent lights. He was leaning on his forearms, watching you with an expression that made it clear that, if it were up to him, he’d spend his whole life just looking at you.

“You know I’m not supposed to be here,” he murmured, but with no real intention of leaving.

You raised an eyebrow, bringing the straw of your milkshake to your lips. “Peter, you always say that.”

He grinned, and his dimples appeared instantly. “And I’m always right.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest at the sight of him, all soft and melted for you. He wasn’t anything you ever expected to find in life, but somehow, he was everything you wanted.

And then came the first glance.

The one you felt on your skin before you even realized what was happening.

A woman at the table next to you pulled her son closer, as if Peter were some kind of creature ready to attack him. A couple in the booth across whispered something to each other, eyes fixed on him with a mix of disdain and distrust. The waiter, who had seemed friendly until now, hesitated for a second before setting the plates down unceremoniously, as if touching them was enough to get contaminated.

Peter said nothing.

You knew he noticed. He always did.

But instead of reacting, he just drummed his fingers against the tabletop, looking away. His jaw was tight, shoulders a little more tense.

Hate.

People had so much hate.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you asked, your blood boiling.

He finally looked at you. And God, those dark eyes were a damn downfall. There was still a trace of a smile on his face, but it was different now—one you recognized.

The smile that said “it’s fine” when it really wasn’t.

“No.” He picked up a fry, twirling it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. “If I left every place where I wasn’t welcome, there wouldn’t be much left, huh?”

Your chest tightened. He said it like it was a joke. Like it didn’t hurt. Like he was used to it.

And maybe he was.

But you weren’t.

You let go of your straw, crossing your arms over the table. “If anyone says anything, I—”

Peter let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the seat. “You’re gonna defend me?”

“Obviously.”

He tilted his head to the side, silver hair falling over his forehead. His eyes glimmered, and a real smile returned.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

This time, you were the one to look away, feeling your cheeks burn.

But the discomfort around you was still there, pulsing like a second skin.

Peter played it off well.

So well you almost believed he really didn’t care. That the stares didn’t get to him, that the whispers didn’t burn under his skin. But you knew Peter Maximoff. And Peter Maximoff was many things—fast, chaotic, ridiculously charming—but he wasn’t unbreakable.

You saw it in his eyes.

You saw it in the way his smile started to fade, in the way his fingers traced distracted patterns on the table, never stopping. You saw it in the way he got quieter, like he was disappearing into himself.

And you saw the exact moment he started to think he shouldn’t be here.

Not just in this diner.

With you.

He dropped his gaze to the table, idly playing with the cold fries on his plate. “Hey…” he murmured, without that usual easy, teasing tone. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you were with someone else?”

Your heart stumbled.

“What?”

He forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not saying you should, it’s just that… I think about it. A lot.”

You felt a lump in your throat.

“Peter.”

He looked away.

“I mean it. Look at you.” He gestured in the air, like he was presenting you to an invisible audience. “Beautiful, smart, cool as hell—it’s ridiculous. You could be with anyone. Any normal guy.”

“Normal,” you repeated, feeling something simmer beneath your skin.

He let out a quiet laugh, but it was empty.

“I’m a failure, you know that? I have nothing. Still live in my mom’s basement. I steal stupid shit because, I don’t know, my brain doesn’t know how to work any other way. I’m weird. And, to top it all off, I’m not even really human.” He looked down at his hands, long and nimble fingers, as if they carried something dirty, something that couldn’t be fixed. “And you… you’re everything.”

You clenched your fists on the table.

No.

No, you weren’t going to accept that.

“Peter, look at me.”

He hesitated, but obeyed.

“You’re not doing this.” Your voice was firm. “You’re not pushing me away with this bullshit speech.”

He opened his mouth, but you were faster.

“You are not a mistake, Peter. You are not a burden. You are not—” your voice faltered for a second, but you held his gaze, reaching out to take his hand, feeling his long, nimble fingers hesitate before intertwining with yours. “—a monster.”

His eyes widened, like you had just hit him square in the chest. Like he had never even considered the possibility of someone saying that out loud. He didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, just stared at you, dark eyes filled with something between shock and desperation, like he was trying to understand how the hell you could see all the good in him when he saw nothing at all.

You leaned over the table, completely ignoring the murmur around you, the strangers’ presence trying to creep into the night that belonged to the two of you. Your fingers traced the pulse at his wrist, following the line of a vein that was beating too fast, as fast as his erratic heartbeat. His face was close now, so close you could count his silver lashes, see the reflection of the diner’s neon sign dancing across his dark eyes, hear the way his breath hitched when you squeezed his hand tighter.

“You’re mine,” you murmured, each word sinking into his skin like a promise. “And I’m yours.”

His throat bobbed.

“Did you hear me, Peter?”

He blinked, dazed, like he was processing it slowly, like the idea of belonging to someone—of someone wanting to belong to him—was too distant, too impossible to be real.

So you did something that left no room for doubt.

You leaned in and kissed him.

His lips were cold from the milkshake, but his mouth gave in immediately, warm and intense and tasting like something he never, never believed he deserved. His body tensed for a second, like he was about to run, but then his hand squeezed yours tighter, and he leaned in for more, like he was trying to memorize every detail of the feeling before someone could take it away from him.

But then, the voice came.

Sharp, filled with disgust.

“You mutants never know your place.”

The world froze.

You pulled away slowly, feeling Peter’s skin stiffen under your touch, feeling his fingers turn cold around yours.

The voice came again, this time even more venomous.

“People like you aren’t welcome here.”

You turned around.

The man was big, broad shoulders, disheveled hair, his eyes carrying a very specific kind of rage. A rage that didn’t come from anything concrete, nothing he could truly explain. Just pure hatred for something he didn’t understand.

Peter didn’t say anything. He just stared, an eerily serene expression on his face.

His silence only seemed to make the man angrier.

He let out a low, sarcastic laugh, leaning over the table with a dirty smirk. “Look at you. You know you’re a freak, right, kid?”

Your blood boiled.

You didn’t care about the stares, didn’t care about the whispers or the way people seemed to subtly move away from your table, like Peter was a threat, like he was something to be feared. You knew he had dealt with this for years. You knew the words rolled off him like water, that he was too fast to care, that the best response was always a joke.

But not now.

Not when some disgusting man thought he could open his mouth and spew all that hatred like he had any right to.

You felt your chest rise and fall too fast, felt your fist clench at your side, ready to say something, do something—but then you felt it.

His hand. His long fingers slid over your wrist, a steady grip, a silent squeeze that said “no.” Peter held your hand.

And then the man turned to you. And smiled. A filthy, disgusting smile, all yellowed teeth and rotten intentions.

“Bet you’ve never been with a real man. I could show you a good time, girl.”

Peter’s hand slipped away from yours.

It was immediate.

You felt it before you even realized. The air shifted, thick with electricity, like the second before lightning splits the sky.

When you looked at Peter, he still seemed calm. But it was the dangerous kind of calm.

His mouth was still relaxed, his shoulders still loose, but his eyes—God, his eyes—held no amusement now. They were fixed on the man before him, burning like embers, scanning every inch of him like he was deciding the best way to take him apart.

And then Peter smiled. A lazy, lopsided grin, a glimmer of mockery dancing behind the threat.

“Wow.” Peter whistled. “Did you rehearse that in the mirror, or did it just come out like that?”

The man’s face darkened. Peter grinned.

“Because if it just came out like that, congrats. You’re a natural asshole.”

And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Just one second. Just a silver blur.

The man didn’t even have time to react. One moment he was standing—and the next, he was on his knees.

The entire diner went still. Glasses rattled on the tables. The air was split by the sharp sound of impact.

No one saw Peter move.

The only thing left was him, standing in front of the man now kneeling on the floor, fingers delicately gripping the collar of his worn-out jacket, like he had placed him there as easily as setting down a cup.

Peter’s eyes glowed under the diner’s red neon lights, the shadow of a smirk twisting his mouth.

“Let me tell you a secret.” His voice came low, slow. “If you open that filthy mouth again, I’ll make you swallow every word.”

The man froze.

Peter’s smirk widened.

“And trust me,” he slid a finger over the guy’s shoulder as if brushing off dust, “I’m very fast.”

The man tried to move.

Another silver blur.

And suddenly, the guy was sitting on the counter, feet dangling in the air, not even knowing how the hell he got there.

The entire diner gasped.

Peter clicked his tongue, resting an elbow on the counter, relaxed, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

“Need a map, buddy? You look lost.”

The man blinked. His hands pressed against the counter, as if trying to find balance, as if trying to understand.

Peter just smiled, and before the guy could open his mouth, he tilted his face, lowering his voice to something more intimate, almost confidential.

“Let me guess.” He rested his chin on his hand, eyes lit with a cold amusement. “You’re not feeling so brave anymore, are you?”

He snapped his fingers. Another silver blur, and the man was back on the floor.

His breath came fast, erratic.

This time, he didn’t try to speak.

Peter smiled, as if finally satisfied.

You threw a few bills onto the table, not counting, not looking, just leaving them there, as if money had any significance in the middle of that mess, as if it could pay for the man’s discomfort, for the disgusting words he had pretended didn’t affect him.

And then you turned.

He was already waiting for you. His face still slightly tilted, eyebrows raised in a mix of impatience and expectation, as if silently asking if you could finally leave.

You nodded.

And in the blink of an eye, the world disappeared.

Your stomach flipped, and your heart jumped to your throat. It was like being pulled by an invisible force, a train too fast to follow, to process—cold air cut against your skin, sounds blurred into the distance, and then, suddenly, everything stopped.

Your feet touched solid ground. The world stopped spinning.

But your body didn’t know that yet.

You blinked a few times, trying to adjust your vision.

The sky was dark, speckled with stars, the moon casting its silver glow over everything around you. The grass beneath your feet swayed gently with the wind. You were alone, no artificial lights, no whispering voices, no disgusted stares burning against his skin.

Just the two of you.

Just him.

Just Peter, now looking at you with raw concern in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

“Hey.” His fingers touched your face with impossible gentleness, pushing strands of hair away from your skin, thumbs brushing slowly over your cheekbones, as if searching for something. “You okay?”

Your breath was still uneven, the adrenaline from what had happened at the diner, from the impossible journey to this place, still rushing through your veins like a reminder of how fast he was.

But he was here. Dark eyes, watchful. Fingers still on your face. His concern hung in the air, dense, almost tangible.

You closed your eyes for a second, inhaling slowly. “Just… a little dizzy.”

Relief flickered across his face. He let his hands slide down your arms, from your shoulders to your elbows, a warm, steady touch, like he was grounding you here, with him. Then he stopped—his gaze shifted.

You felt it before realizing what it was. The wind blew, sharp against your exposed skin, and before you could react, you felt something warm and soft drape over your shoulders.

His jacket.

The silver fabric still held his body heat, still smelled like him.

Peter adjusted it around you, his fingers lingering on your collarbones for a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

The silence between you was different now. Heavy. Charged. You looked at him, and he looked away.

His eyes didn’t meet yours. His jaw was clenched, shoulders tense, fingers idly playing with the zipper of his hoodie—a nervous habit you knew all too well.

Peter was never one to keep things to himself. He filled every silence with fast words and unfiltered jokes.

But now, he was quiet.

And that said more than anything he could have said.

You took a step forward, feeling the jacket move with you, his scent wrapping around you.

He noticed the movement but didn’t move.

Your fingers touched the side of his face, guiding him to look at you.

And he did.

His eyes were dark, deep, filled with something he was trying to hide, but that overflowed anyway.

You knew that look.

It was the look he had when he saw the prejudice he had faced since childhood spill onto you. It was the look of someone blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault.

You sighed, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, moving up into his silver hair, threading through the soft strands. He closed his eyes for a second.

Rested his forehead against yours.

Sighed.

“I hate this.”

His voice was low, restrained.

You didn’t ask what.

You already knew the answer.

He hated that you had to hear that kind of thing.

Hated that your name had been spat from the mouth of a disgusting asshole.

Hated that you had been dragged into it.

He hated that the world didn’t accept who he was.

And he hated even more that it hurt you.

You held his face more firmly, forcing him to look at you again.

"I love you."

His eyes shone.

You traced your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, the space between his cheek and that ever-present dimple, the corner of his mouth—mapping him with care, as if reaffirming something he should never doubt.

"I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what they say."

You leaned in closer, and he stayed still, like he was absorbing every word, like he needed to hear them.

"You’re mine, remember?"

Peter swallowed hard.

A muscle jumped in his throat.

His chest rose and fell in a slower rhythm, his breathing heavy.

And then, he moved. His fingers found your face with urgency, his mouth pressing against yours without hesitation.

The kiss was slow, deep. Filled with everything he didn’t know how to say. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you in, holding you like he needed to feel that you were there, real, whole.

When he pulled back, just enough to breathe, his eyes were softer.

The weight on his shoulders seemed a little lighter.

He nudged his nose against yours, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips.

"I’m yours, huh?"

You smiled back.

And when you answered, your voice was absolute certainty.

"Yes."

Peter smiled.

That smile. The one that was just yours. The one that made his dimples appear, that made his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, that left him looking hopelessly in love. The one you would never get tired of seeing.

He kissed your forehead, slow, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary before pulling away.

And then he laced his fingers through yours, holding your hand firmly, like he knew that even without words, that touch said everything he wanted to say.

And somehow, you knew exactly what it was.

Peter didn’t like the world.

But he liked you.

He liked you a lot.

[silverzoomies]

Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.

I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter

Pancakes

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding

word count: 2,762

a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!

Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.

But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.

Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.

He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.

Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.

Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.

And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.

Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.

He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.

But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.

Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.

You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.

And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.

The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.

It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.

You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.

Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.

“Oh, it is so on.”

“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.

His teasing continues without warning.

You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.

He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.

During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.

The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.

You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.

Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.

And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.

His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.

“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.

You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.

An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.

Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.

Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.

The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.

“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”

His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.

Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.

“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.” 

“Honey, no-”

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”

Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.

“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.

A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.

Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.

He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.

Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.

Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.

“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.

He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Pietro, honey, please-"

He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.

His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.

The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.

Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.

“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”

The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.

Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.

Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.

You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared. 

You’re goddamn beautiful.

[wcnderlnds]

──★ halloween candy / peter maximoff

halloween / fall drabbles with prompts from here. feel free to request any <3

For some reason you’d agreed to go over to Peter’s place this Halloween to help him hand out candy to the kids while his mom took his little sister out to Trick or Treat. Originally, Peter had wanted to do that but you had to remind him he was in his mid-twenties and people probably wouldn’t appreciate a fully grown adult begging for candy on their doorstep. That had caused a grumble of ‘I could just steal their candy anyway’ from him. As you stepped down the stairs into his basement, the familiar sounds of Pac-Man rang through your ears.

“Whoa,” Peter snickered, glancing behind his shoulder to look at you. This year you’d decided to go for a simple look for Halloween – a Harlequin clown. Black triangles surrounded your eyes, your lips covered in red that extended out into a Joker-esque smile. It wasn’t anything special but you knew Peter would have something to say about it.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at his back, hands on your hips.

“Nothin’. I just can’t figure out what’s scarier: you with the makeup or without.” As he spoke, he’d zoomed over to you in barely the blink of an eye, lips curling upwards in an amused smile. His head was tilted to the side as he looked at you, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

Playfully, you pushed his shoulder. “Asshole.”

That only prolonged his laughter. His laugh always made you feel some type of way. There was just something so beautiful about the man you were crazy about being so happy – even if it was at your expense. Peter never meant anything in a harmful way. It had always been this way between the two of you. The jokes, the laughter, the making fun of each other and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What’re you supposed to be anyway?”

Quick hands grabbed a pair of devil horns off the coffee table in the middle of his room and placed them on top of his head. “The devil, duh!”

“Peter! That’s barely anything.”

“Ah, but here’s the pièce de résistance.” It took him all of a second to grab his new red leather jacket, pulling it on his shoulders, arms outstretched at his sides as he showed it off. “What’d you think?”

Oh, it was so over for you. He looked damn good in red.

It was half an hour later when the trick or treaters started showing up. Peter had tried to scare most of the kids that had showed up but since he didn’t have a scary bone in his body, he failed every time. Once a couple hours passed, the candy was all gone… or so you thought until you caught Peter pulling out a bar of chocolate from his jacket pocket and shoving it into his mouth.

“Those were for the kids!”

“The kids got enough. It’s my turn. Can’t keep a guy from his candy, babe. It’s criminal.”

“You could at least share.”

“Hell nah. My one rule is I don’t share with clowns,” he sighed dramatically, another chocolate bar grasped in his hand. “Maybe take that makeup off and I’ll consider it.”

“Wanna help me?” You took a step forward, your chest pressing against his. Intentionally, you brushed your lips against his. With his eyes focused on your lips, his free hand came down to cup your cheek but the second he leaned in to kiss you, you snatched the chocolate from his hand and backed off. “Ha, loser.”

“Cruel, babe. Real cruel.”

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @juliamaximoff @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @xmidnight-rain @honeymoon8 @evanpetersbf

[ashlinxsloves]

My brain just did a big brain move and gave me an idea for a fic–

Okay so hear me out, Kurt Wagner x Baker!reader where your bakery is not too far from the school and most of the students hang around there in their free time.

Of course, you support mutant rights and welcome everyone to your bakery. But the blue German fella seemed to catch your attention as he became a regular, coming in for the same pastries every day, sometimes to try something new that you've made and would make small talk with you when the day is slow and you don't have too many customers.

Kurt comes there with Peter, Scott, Jean and Jubilee to try out your new cupcakes while trying to keep you entertained. Obviously, Peter and Scott seemed to notice first, that Kurt wanted your attention, keeping up the small talk, asking about your ideas and suggestions with pastries.

LIKE AAAAAGHHHH, I WANNA WRITE THIS FIC, I WANNA WRITE CHRISTMAS FICS AND IT SNOWED TODAY– I LOVE KURT SO MUCH I WANNA WRITE 😭😭😭 this can literally be for any x men character.. might make it into a series idk–

(I'm not burnt out, just too many exams :,])

Blue baby my beloved–

[taintandviolent]

if you're takin drabble requests...perhaps consider...flashing peter maximoff? showin him some bodacious tiddy? just a suggestion from a totally mysterious person ooooooooooo...

i love you so so so so so so so so SOOOOO much btw 🤍🤍🤍

sooooo mysterious!!! who could this be?!?! 🤔🤔🤔 I love you more than words can ever express!!!!!!!!

warnings: none, really. reader flashing Peter, mentions of arousal. also, this was written at work, sorry if it’s bad!!!

With all of your responsibilities taken care of, you had little to do besides wander the hallways back to your room. Poised to open the door, you paused -- something quite literally glittered in your peripheral. You turned your head, locking eyes on someone. Someone special, and someone very, very silver. Peter Maximoff. God, he was so cute.

He was alone in the hallway, save for Beast, whose back was to you. Nice. You chewed the inside of your cheek, assessing; the conversation seemed casual enough. Peter was chuckling and doing that adorable grin that you saw so often. You had some tact, at least -- you weren't going to interrupt anything serious.

Recognition glimmered in Peter's eyes as they flitted to you. When they did, you raised your hand, wiggling your fingers at him. Wordlessly, you brought your finger to your mouth, shushing him and preventing him from saying or doing anything that would alert the other party to your existence.

You'd been teasing him for weeks at this point; coy little glances here, determined, heated touches there... You were pretty sure you had him wrapped around your finger and he was ready to bust. But just to make sure...

Your fingers gripped the hem of your shirt and yanked it up in one motion. Your breasts sprung free, your nipples hardening as soon as the cool air of the hallway hit them. Perfect and perky, all for Peter to gawk at. You gave a little wiggle of your torso, grinning. In hindsight, it was an absolutely stellar choice to go braless today.

Lips popping apart, his jaw hung slack. In a millisecond, Peter's eyes widened, focusing hard on your now-exposed tits. His train of thought was out the window. Gonezo. Completely derailed. The only thing he was focusing on -- the only thing he could think of was your tits. Bouncy, bouncy tits... and another thing - what they looked like bouncing in a more... horizontal position.

"Uhhhh.... I.."

He thought about motorboating them. "Uh..." Heat rushed to his groin, and he shifted uncomfortably. He had to pacify himself before things got out of hand, but how could he? How could he when you were...

You bounced up and down on your heels, letting off an inaudible giddy snicker as you felt your breasts move freely. Peter's dark pupils followed your nipples up and down, his throat going dry with the action.

"Yeah, y'know what, I'm... uh..."

"Peter, you're not making any sense."

"Whaaat? I am, too. I said that... y'know, I think I remembered something I had to do." His inky irises flicked back and forth, but the majority of the time was spent on you, fighting to control his facial expressions. If he had the freedom, his tongue would be lolling out like the Howlin' Wolf.

Now intrigued by whatever had captivated Peter's attention, Beast started to pivot his body, following Peter's gridlocked gaze. As soon as he had turned around, an inquisitive brow quirked, you were gone. Well, not really. You were still standing there, tits out, tongue pressed against the back of your teeth in a shit-eating grin. Invisibility had its perks. You pulled your shirt down over your ample breasts, withholding the laughter that threatened to bubble out over your lips.

Beast turned back around, now more curious than ever. Peter was a quirky kid, that much was obvious from the moment they met. Naturally, there were a few reasons that he could be acting strangely, and you sincerely hope that he hadn't figured out which one was causing it.

Safe, you rematerialized, now decent and waved goodbye to Peter. Had you really intended for the wave to look like you were beckoning him? Maybe. Maybe you had.

It was safe to say that you'd see him later.

[yandereunsolved]

⍣ ೋ Yandere Peter Maximoff ⍣ ೋ

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

[kitmoas]

seized within the silk we grew

WandaNatKate x Reader (Part of the Training Grounds Universe)

Warnings: ***18+** **MINORS DNI** **Vague Smut-ish*** Mommy kink, slight public things

As usual if i missed anything let me know!

Author's Note: ...........Shhh it's a Halloween Treat (an unedited one so I do be sorry if it sucks)

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

Blinking slowly as the sun sunk into your eyes, reveling in the slight pain. The noise below you kept your anxieties down, but you knew that the quiet in your head was only temporarily lulled. Everyone else wanted you to move on, but how could you? Your world had crumbled, the foundation cracked and shattered so quickly and you never even stood a chance. One day the rest of them would understand, and maybe this was selfish but you couldn’t stop the thought, it was always you. First your father, your home, and now your temple; gone. 

A hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm broke you from your thoughts. “Hey Pete is done, you ready?” The small smile makes you blush and you know the influence of others has caused you to not quite understand your own emotions, but you have nothing else to grasp so you allow that to run rampant. Nodding, you let your body get guided with a soft hand on your lower back as the two of you step out onto the thin but strong webbed walkway. 

Your face brightens the closer you get to your friends, all in various states of lounge from where you all dangle in the web that the spider boy created. The sun is setting in the background giving you a beautiful view of the city, even below where you can see kids all dressed up running around knocking on doors and getting candy. Settling down next to your best friend, her hand reaching up to tangle in your pant leg tugging at you insistently, a slight sound of disappointment comes from the one who helped you across the bridge in the first place. “I believe boy of spiders did well with this, do you agree?” 

A loud groan, a small web flying past you, and you don’t even have to open your heavy eyes to see the young boy’s pout. “We have been friends how long Yelena, I am Spider-MAN. Man.” 

Her body shakes as you curl into her, exhaustion starting to catch up despite your want to be a part of the group. You want to speak up and laugh, you know that was the point of everyone inviting you but you can’t help how you relax around them. 

“You say that like our little resident Russian hasn’t had her accent and lack of English stick with her for this long, you aren’t ever going to be a man in her eyes.” The taunting voice of America is obvious, and you know she’s trying to get a rise out of both of them but neither bite as the loud giggles of one night only demons and heroes down below ring through the air. 

Clearing her throat, finally shaking the sting from earlier Cassie stands up. “Why don’t we just start drinking? Yeah? Maybe everyone can be men that way?” She’s giggling as she sticks her tongue out at the boy, tossing him a bottle. “My special cocktail, drink up everyone.” She gently sets one in your hand, waiting for your eyes to open to smile at you. “At your own pace, no rush.” 

“Should we drink since most of us are on duty?” Even you groan at Peter’s question, rolling out of Yelena’s arms to stare at the boy.

“Take the spider mask off for a minute and have fun, does Bishop really have your balls in that tight of a grip?” You mean it as a joke, you swear to yourself but you can almost swim in the haze that the tenseness creates. It was the first time anyone has mentioned the archer, and no one thought it would be you first. Rolling your eyes at the panic spreading across his face, you pop the lid off of your bottle and lean back. The strong liquor stings as it goes down your throat, though anything feels better than the weight of the silence. 

A loud laugh and a slap on the back interrupts your thoughts, “You heard her! Follow her lead you weak little Avengers!” You knew that you could always count on your best friend to match your energy. Everyone else follows suit, but one, gulping down their own drinks.

When you finally pull the now half empty bottle from your lips, a drop of the deep Periwinkle liquid escapes down your chin but a gentle thumb doesn’t allow it to get too far. Swiping it away quickly, the hand cups your cheek and sky blue eyes search for your own. They should be comforting but you always did prefer a storm. “Careful there.” 

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“Careful there sweets.” Always cocky. You knew that before you started dating her, and you know it’s only gotten worse now that you are on her arm. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin your pretty little costume, now would ya?” She’s pushing into your space, her hand cupping your jaw giving her even more control as she smirks down at you. 

The barely there costume was already ruined before you were even able to leave the girl’s apartment. She had shoved you against the wall the moment she had sauntered down the steps in her cheesy pirate costume, the tattered vest hanging open to show off her abs and the hat barely hanging onto her head. The brunette was holding a sword when she realized that your torn tied up shirt barely covered anything and your skirt had multiple slits so high that she barely had to swing one to get access to between your thighs. 

Eyes rolling, you hope that the darkness of the room conceals the way your cheeks flush. “Well I know you won’t be getting the chance to, so someone has to.” Biting your bottom lip, you know that you’re challenging her. It’s always fun to see how far you can push her until she finally breaks and gives you what you want. 

Kate’s eyes are intense as she stares you down, dark cobalt swirling before it’s interrupted by a hiccup. Giggles erupt from both of you and you feel your heart almost stop, frozen as you watch her head fall back. You never understood how you got someone so amazing to even look at you, let alone have her fall in love with you too. Her head falls to your shoulder, even as her body still shakes with laughter, as her arms wrap around you. She’s tugging you closer, into her body, and you know it’s the safest place you’ve ever been. 

You can feel soft kisses along your neck, a gentle nip as she finally pulls away. Her smile is wide and the glossy nature of her eyes are the clear giveaway of the alcohol she’s consumed. The breath you take gets caught in your throat while she looks at you, almost like you’re the gravity keeping her on the planet. “Let’s go back to the party, I gotta show off my pretty girl.” 

A whine tears through your teeth and you want to beg her to come back, to put her hands back on you but you know that she’s ready to be back in the spotlight. She’s aching to parade you around, not only you but the fact that you are hers. You love it, something you had never gotten to feel before, but in the moment you just wanted her to take what was hers. 

Sighing you just nod, but when she roughly pushes you back against the wall. Her knee shoving its way between your thighs and her mouth smashing against yours. The taste of alcohol was strong on her lips and her kiss was messy, but her hands were rushing along your body. Desperate to feel you up before she finally pulled away, shaky breaths as she smirked down at you. Watching as your hips subconsciously grind down onto her thigh, “I’ll take care of this within the hour, don’t you worry sweetheart.” Cobalt eyes twinkling as she winks at you, her hand cupping your cheek as she pulls you towards the dance floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Shaking your head, you smile up at the girl and you try to clear your head from the memories. You were working on that, it’s hard but one day you hope that it will be easier. You let her rest her hand on your face for a few moments before you gently move away, settling back into your position with Yelena. 

It takes a bit before the group starts up their normal antics, America dumps her drink on Peter when he starts practically drooling over MJ. “Do you have to dry hump your webs every time your little girlfriend comes up?” Everyone is laughing, the two somehow constantly at each other’s throats. 

“Yes Peter, what does that MJ even do? Can she take down a secret agency?” The blonde leans up, letting your heavy head fall from her shoulder, as she sticks her tongue out at the boy. Everyone likes to give him crap for being the only one that likes someone out of the business. 

Cassie starts laughing, rolling on her back. “Really going for that spider-man damsel in distress trope aren’t you?” She’s trying to keep her hand stable as she almost spills her drink. 

The shaggy haired boy huffs, though used to the teasing and he knows it’s all just fun, the alcohol in his system is making him a bit more sensitive to the taunts. “At least I have someone Cass and I’m not pining over someone I can’t get!” He blinks, but doesn’t make eye contact with you or the other girl. “I have someone amazing, and she’s perfect. She makes me happy and for the first time I can relax. I don’t feel like I’m always on edge or ready to jump into a fight when I’m around her. I can put down the mask and the responsibilities and feel like a college kid. I’m just a kid and she makes my life better. She makes me better. I’m a better Peter around her, a better Spider-Man.” His voice trails off, realizing that he let his emotions get the better of him. 

It's the one thing every single person in the job wants. Someone, despite the title they hold, to love and melt into. It’s hard to find a patient and understanding person, someone who won’t get mad at the late nights or broken bones. To find someone like MJ was rare, and every single person sitting there knew that. They knew that you had to hold onto those ones with an iron grip, and do anything possible to keep them in your life. 

America sighs, letting her head fall on his shoulder. She leans up to kiss his cheek, a sign that she’s done teasing. It’s quiet as the group take the time to sip at their drinks, enjoying the chilled wind. You should have noticed the way that they all side eye to look at you, the way that Cassie is longing after you, but you’ve lost your own mind. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Your giggle rings through the mostly quiet room, body squirming to try and get away from the soft kisses that Natasha was leaving along your stomach. She had been soft and sweet all day, her phone and earpiece nowhere to be found. The two of you had spent the entire day dressed in soft onesies, you in a devil one while the ginger donned a random one that made absolutely no sense to you. She had gasped, acted so offended that you wouldn’t know the classic that is Trick r’ Treat but she just tugged you onto the couch anyways. The movie was immediately started, though you don’t remember most of it. 

After what feels like forever, trying to avoid her tickles, the older woman finally leans her chin on you to look up at you. “Thank you Malyshka.” She giggles at your confused look, kissing your hip bone softly. “I wanted to spend today with you because I know you like Halloween, and though I never really celebrated it I thought it would be nice to at least be together.” She stumbles over her words a bit, a blush rising up her neck. “I made Wanda take my technology and I wanted to just feel the safety of being with you. Nothing taking away from us or the way you make my body feel relaxed, just you and me. Together.” 

Something in your body stops, your heart practically giving out, and you know that you’ve dreamt about this moment since the day that the two of you met. You had always wanted the older women to look at you like you mattered, like you were more to them than you were supposed to be. You could feel your head nodding, mindlessly as you tried to keep your emotions in check. You couldn’t be obvious, or too clingy, or else you might chase her away so you just accepted her words. It felt wrong but you wanted to keep her in her safe little bubble for as long as possible, and if that meant you would spend every single day wishing that she would be different with you more often then okay. If that meant for the rest of your life you would feel inferior so that she would be able to relax just for a bit, then that’s just fine for you. You would give up everything if that meant keeping her happy. 

Natasha was leaning over you, a soft smile on her face. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be on the receiving end of them, but this felt different. It felt real and you did everything in your power to not react. You wanted to kiss her, but you were scared that it would push her away. Instead you waited, with bated breath, as she just stared at you. It was the sound of the music from whatever movie was playing that broke the trance she was in, the ginger bounces back. 

Her eyes were no longer soft, instead they were panicked as she looked around trying to figure out what to do. She was only that vulnerable after she put you in a much more defenseless position, having normally left this type of interaction with Wanda. You want to reach out, but she turns to you suddenly with the smile back on her face. “Let’s make some brownies, we can even decorate them like mummies.” Her hand encases yours softly, and she’s guiding you to the kitchen and for a moment the freak out was forgotten. 

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Blinking, you can’t help the embarrassed look on your face when you realize that everyone is looking at you. You try to look the other way but the sun is gone and the moon is entirely too cloudy to even watch it, so you just sigh. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you try to not focus on how many times you have made the group go quiet or how many times you have completely killed the mood. All you wanted to do was drink and hang out with friends, but even that was too hard for you to do apparently. 

The web moves below you and you feel familiar arms wrapping around your shoulders, tugging you back into her body. The two of you sit in silence for a moment before everyone else starts to move, giving the two of you a bit of privacy. “It’s okay, you know?” America’s eyes are soft as she searches for yours. She shrugs when you reject her, and just pulls you tighter against her. 

“How can it be?” Your voice catches you off guard, it sounds sure even though that was far from what you actually felt. “I’m ruining everything and it’s been so long.” 

The girl shrugs, her messy bangs falling into her eyes as she chuckles. “You think we expect you to be okay? We don’t. We’re your friends, real ones. We want to build you up regardless of everything, and we can’t do that if you act like you’re whole. We tease and taunt and mock, but we love you. At the end of the day we love you, no boundaries and no conditions. If you let us, we’ll be there for you and even when you fight it we will be too; just waiting in the background for when you need us.” She’s blowing her hair away from her face, a quiet falling over you to like a security blanket. Leaning over to place a soft kiss against your temple, she whispers reassurance once more as she leaves you to be. 

You want to reach out, beg her to come back and wrap her arms around you. For her to drag over Yelena or even Peter so that you can fall into their arms. It hurt to let her walk away and it almost felt like a weight was slowly crushing your chest, breaking and cracking at your ribs to puncture your lungs. The breath falling from your lips, blue in your imagination. 

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“I think it would be fun to actually go out to eat tonight, don’t you Мой красивый ангел?” Her voice echoed through the doorway into the room where you were curled up on the bed, a wave of sadness hit you and it felt like your entire body was caving in. A head of curly brunette hair pops into the bedroom, eyes twinkling but the moment she sees your body in the fetal position it dims. 

Rushing over to you she pauses at the foot of the bed, hand hanging in the air as she tries to quickly assess the situation. Before she can even move you’re flopping over, a pout on your lips and tears in your eyes. Reaching out, your hands grab at her as you silently beg for her touch. The pain is searing and you swore that it was real, but you had a horrible feeling that it was just all in your head. Your anxiety is coming to destroy your favorite holiday, but you wanted to fight it. 

She’s on you in moments and it’s almost like nothing happened, unsure of what even started it you decide to instead melt into the older woman. You weren’t sure if it was just her powers at work or if maybe it was just your desperate need to be around the Sokovian, but whatever pain you were feeling disappeared. The secret of which it was would never be revealed to you, instead you decide to spend the time you now have in bed to your advantage. 

Slowly you move in the witch’s arms so that you can look up at her, a twinkle in your eyes as you miss the red mist falling from her fingers. “Mommy, I think I would rather stay in. We can make sure the candy bucket stays full that way!” It’s a bad excuse and you know it, but you couldn’t think of anything else quickly. You were craving her touch on your body, and you knew that if you were to go out the most she would let you do is get filled by her magic. That wasn’t enough tonight. 

The smile on her face is hesitant but the look in your eyes is real, and how can she deny you of anything? If you needed her touch to feel better than that’s what you needed. Her kiss is sudden, surging forward to connect your lips. The brunette lets you have a few seconds of a mostly gentle kiss before she pushes you onto your back, body pressing you into the mattress. Her weight keeps you pinned as she snaps her fingers and your clothes start to rip off. It’s all so fast and you almost want it to stop, overwhelming your senses but when she pulls away to watch you your racing heart calms. 

“Well hello there little one.” Her voice is soft, it’s gentle and you almost think tonight might be different than every other time. “You’re Mommy’s. Say it.” Her hand cups your chin, thumb swiping along your bottom lip. Her eyes are predatory, but in a warm nature, as she watches your body come into view. Her magic is working to tear your clothes to shreds. She makes a mental note to buy you more, as you whisper it. 

Her hand strikes you out of nowhere, the sting along your cheek forces your head to the side before her rough grip on your jaw brings it back. “Mine, and I own your little body.” Something in her snapped as she trails her free hand down your body. “You know, you seem confused for such a smart slut. Did your brain turn to mush already?” She’s sneering as her eyebrows lift, her fingers slipping in between your thighs where she finds wetness already gathered there. 

Shaking your head, you know it’s a lie. You weren’t sure where it came from, unaware of your own arousal. You had thought you wanted her to be nice, but you can feel the warmth in your body as she settles into her normal state. It’s harsh and almost uncaring, but it’s habitual and comforting. The actions and brash tone turns your mind off, and you realize that even in the state that you’re in the way Wanda treats you is what keeps you level headed and calm. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A quiet thwap takes you out of your thoughts, and the bouncing unsettles you from your spot as the group starts walking towards the building. You spot the candy that Peter threw at you, hanging just above you though you can’t pinpoint where the web is connected. Sighing you sit there for a moment, eyes watching as Peter and America push each other–both determined to be the first one off the web. 

A firm hand lands on your shoulder and you immediately smell your best friend’s perfume, the blonde kneeling next to you. The two of you silently watch the last of the trick or treaters below you, and you head falls onto her shoulder. “You know, I think the world really does test the best people. It is unfair and mistreatful, but only the best end up the way you do. I am always on your side. I know you didn’t ask me to be, and you don’t technically need me to be, but I am. I will always save you no matter what, and together we will not just survive but we will conquer.” She smiling now, against your shoulder where she tilts her head to suppress her giggle. 

Shoving her away, you can’t help the eye roll as you relish in your time with the Russian. “Okay, don’t get too crazy. The FBI is gonna think you want to start a war or something.” You watch her shrug, rubbing her thumb along your shoulder blade as she stands up. Opening your mouth you go to say something, but she’s already walking away. Even with the mouthed apology, you want to whine and complain but your attention is being pulled from her as someone settles down next to you. 

Feet swinging off the edge of the web, the two of you sit in silence. You wait there for her to say something. You don’t have any negative feelings towards her, and you do really enjoy spending time with the girl. The two of you both enjoy a lot of the same things and conversation is easy, but there’s just something that isn’t right. Maybe you should take a chance, let her take you out just once, but at the same time it’s just too simple. It feels mindless after the past six years but the need to restart is strong, so maybe you should. 

There were a lot of maybes, and you hated that. You were always so sure before, and if you weren’t then someone else was sure for you. It was a stable foundation where your own personal castle was built, but now you have to rebuild. You’re on new land, new terrority, and you have to stumble around to find materials. Even now, lost in your thoughts, you can feel the warmth along your ribcage and it makes you wonder what is happening. Can you truly find a new foundation while the old one pulses along your body? 

Cassie stands, a hand outreached to you with a gentle smile pulling at her lips. She waits, patience unending, as you stare back up at her. Blinking slowly, you try to put together your thoughts. She isn’t rushing or pushing, just there. So you nod, taking her hand and allowing her to pull you up. Her arm is heavy as she wraps it around you, guiding you off the web. The two of you don’t speak, and you hate how it feels comfortable even as you take the stairs down to where everyone else is waiting. 

You can hear the chatter even from the staircase, the three of them arguing about something. “I have a higher ranking than you! I will not switching just so I can have a stupid title!” Chuckling as you hear the Russian yell out, the alcohol must be just starting to hit her with how animated she is being. 

Stepping into few, the two of you immediately gain the attention of the others. Three pairs of stares, the lack of reaction would have gotten to you if America wasn’t able to shake it off first. “Tell them that one day you’ll join the Young Avengers! You wanna work with me and Petes, right?” It’s hopeful even through her confusion as she stares at the arm around you. 

“Why would she want to be a YOUNG avengers when she could be partners with THE White Widow?” Yelena is screaming, howling almost, and you can’t help but giggle with her. 

Peter shrugs, chugging the rest of the drink in his hand before he politely drops it in the garbage next to him. “I personally think you both should join up, we would be unstoppable.” 

There as the entire group starts laughing, the world quiet at the end of the night and litters of empty candy wrappers floating past deflating ghosts, something feels right. You let yourself sink into the feeling, for the first time in months, and you shrug. “Maybe I’ll be on call for both of you, Young Avengers and the infamous White Widow. How about that?” Everyone laughed and nodded along, the group starting to walk down the sidewalk. If anyone looked out the window too quickly it would look just like a group of college kids, laughing and joking, they would never know that the group had fought for their lives from childhood. 

It feels weird to casually agree to something like that, your life on a spiral since you graduated. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at least here on your favorite day of the year you weren’t alone. Surrounded by friends you knew that everything would be okay, and you just needed to allow that to happen. It wasn’t just yet there, but one day it would be and that was all that mattered. 

[zombie-hickey]

Warnings: Kinda angsty, pregnancy mention

Imagine you and Peter have a casual relationship, you know he doesn't want to settle down and doesn't want anything serious.... You try to accept that but end up pushing for more, only to get rejected. He doesn't wanna hurt you - honest. He cares about you deeply but he just isn't ready for that... So, you end up breaking things off and he's gone.

You find out you're pregnant and part of you considers trying to contact him to tell him, since despite how things ended - you wanted him to know. But.... Then you think 'I don't wanna tie him down or make him feel obligated to help me' because he made it super clear he wasn't ready for commitment... Sure, not the most sound decision you're making right now but you're doing your best here- ultimately you don't tell him. Deciding you can do this on your own.

.... It's only a few years later he shows up at a diner in town again and sees you, you're sitting at a table with a little kid sporting familiar silver hair... The little boy rambling at hype-speed about anything and everything, you just smiling and nodding. Doesn't take too long for the realization to hit Peter like a freight train.

[homicidal-mother]

Feeling like you're gonna get a sugar high from making out with Peter Maximoff.

[layla4567]

i'M NOT DOING IT

Evan's quicksilver x fem!reader

Summary: The girls (mainly Rogue and you) have the idea of ​​recreating their favorite movie at school for a day. With the proviso that everyone must be dressed in keeping with the theme, and you hope that a certain sprinter will too Warnings: p in v, virgin reader, teasing, suggestive, also fluff Word count: 4k

A/N: I clarify just in case that the personalities of some secondary characters I don't remember so much so I basically invented some things

Rogue shared a room with me and what we liked to do the most was watch old movies, especially "Grease", it was our favorite. We loved the music and the clothes that people wore at that time. We were actually watching it for the fifth time lying on our bellies on the mattress with our elbows propped up on soft pillows and our faces resting on our palms when out of the blue the idea struck me.

"Hey, wouldn't it be great to host a day like Grease?"

"A day like Grease? What are you talking about?"-She asked me confused without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Yes, I mean…"-I straightened up a bit to get a better look at her face- "A whole day dressed as the characters from the movie, we can even decorate the whole school!"

Now Rogue was looking at me with interest.

"And do you think others would like the idea? You know how difficult it is to agree with everyone"

"Well, we'll try! And if they don't want to, we will force them!"

I got up on my knees and slammed my fist against my hand in a determined gesture that made my friend laugh.

Then I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV

"Hey!"

And then I stood up on the bed and started jumping up and down, then jumped down and grabbed Rogue's arm.

"Come on! we have to prepare everything!!"

"Woah, woah wait, now? I thought we would organize it in a few days"

"Do not leave for tomorrow what you can do today"-I wink at her and drag her through the halls giggling

We were chatting in the aisles planning what we were going to buy when we felt a breeze pass in front of us and as if it were an apparition Peter Maximoff stood in front of us with his arms on his hips.

"Hello ladies, what are you doing?"

Peter looked from me to Rogue with a suspicious look and a playful smile.

Peter and i had been dating for a couple of weeks and he always followed me around like a little dog. It's not that he controlled me or was toxic but sometimes he got bored and he liked to know what I was doing and if I could do it with him

"Why do you want to know, to ruin our plans?"-Rogue crossed his arms.

Peter chuckled

"Why do I always think that I want to do bad things?"

And after saying that, the sprinter looked at me with a mischievous smile and raised eyebrows. Why did he always have to misthink everything? I rolled my eyes

"Anyway, Y/n I'm going to look for the other girls to go buy things, we'll wait for you at the entrance of the mansion"- Anna patted me on the shoulder and walked quickly away waving her white locks of hair.

Quicksilver put his hands in the pockets of his silver jacket and looked at me curiously.

"So, May I know what you have to buy?"

"How nosy you are, my dear"

"And so you love me"-he winked

I pushed my cheek with my tongue trying to suppress a smile, Peter knew that I couldn't get mad at him because as he said, I adore him that annoying.

"Ok you win, I'll tell you but promise me that you will join our plans without complaining"

Peter looked at me skeptically and pretended to think about it.

"Fine, spit it out"

"Anna and I are planning to recreate the Grease movie and dress up as the characters from the movie as well as decorate the place with some things."-I said with a beaming smile as I did a little dance.

Peter let out such a laugh that he put his hand to his stomach while bending his entire torso forward

"Don't count me in"-he said while wiping away his tears

I looked serious and indignant at Peter, typical of him always making promises that he doesn't know how to keep..

"But you said you would join!"

"Yeah..I should have thought better of it"

"Peter Maximoff!!"-I exclaimed angrily

Peter hated it when she called him by his full name to get his attention, and it always worked.

"Ok, ok, don't get mad, I'll join on the condition that you give me a kiss"

"How immature you are"

Pet looked at me with puppy dog ​​eyes and pouted. Was he trying to hurt me with that?

"Ugh, not the puppy eyes again"-I sighed

I grabbed Maximof by the face and gave him a tender kiss on the tip of his nose which tickled him and made him laugh, he kept insisting that I give him more kisses so I kissed his forehead, his cheeks and finally his lips. But it was a quick kiss that made Peter give me a disappointed and sad "Oh." He expected something more.

"You will have to wait until you find me in the courtyard when everything is ready"-I blew Peter a flying kiss as I walked away smiling

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I met up with Rogue, Jean and Jubilee to go thrift store shopping. It had taken some convincing for Jean but we did it on the condition that she would not wear skirts or dresses. We headed for the city with the old Renault Jubilee. We not only had to buy clothes for ourselves but also for our colleagues, well, at least those who wanted to participate and if we couldn't buy for everyone, we agreed that those who wanted to participate could wear their own clothes but that they should be as vintage as possible. We entered all the stores we could find and bought dresses, blouses, jackets and also pennants and old posters of singers, I was even able to get a vinyl in almost perfect condition.

Jubilee chose a leather jacket and a white skirt with red polka dots, while I opted for an outfit quite similar to Sandy's in the final scene of the film. Rogue, who was by my side looking at the dresses, praised (in her own way) the black leather leggings that I had grabbed.

"Those leggings are going to look great on you, they'll mark your ass and you'll make Peter follow you behind drooling like a dog"

The girl's comment made the others burst into laughter.

"Anna!"-I screamed as I felt my cheeks turn red.

"Come on, you have to admit that you have Peter eating out of the palm of your hand, he would do anything for you or he wouldn't have agreed to do this."-Jean replied

I smiled proudly, Peter despite being a stressful nuisance at times, I knew that he loved me with all his being and that love was mutual. But I couldn't help but laugh too when imagining him melting just by seeing me in a set of clothes like that.

We finished buying everything we needed and then headed over to Jubilee's cousin's house to rent a food truck just like in the movie. In the meantime, Charles and the other teachers were supposed to be setting up game booths like a real fair. Jubilee's cousin's house wasn't that far but the main problem was trying to get the food truck to the mansion.

"Well, I think we didn't think things through.."-said Jean with his usual pessimism

"What the hell do we do now?"-Said Jubilee

"Don't worry, I'll call Peter, he can bring his car and we'll hitch the truck from behind"

I dialed Pet's number and as always he didn't take long to answer, he was a real sprinter for everything.

"Hey babe, what's up?

"Hi honey, I think we need help with a little matter."

"Aww, do you need me so fast?"

I could feel Peter smile through the phone

"Just this once, I need you to bring your car"

After giving him the address of the house, I barely hung up the phone when we heard the noise of an engine purring behind us and Peter honking with that smirk he always wore. Damn that's how he drove the streets? How unconscious.

"Peter to rescue, uh? What do you need now?"-he said as he got out of the car

"We need you to take this food truck to the mansion, please, will you?"-Jean said

Quicksilver looked surprised at the food truck and whistled but then he chuckled and said

"That's a piece of cake, count me in ladies"

The boy was about to run towards the truck when Jean stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"But! like a normal person would, no super speed"

"How boring.."

Peter made a disgusted face but then he helped us with everything we needed, he started his car. Peter and I were in the lead with the food truck hitched to the back and the girls following closely behind us in Jubilee's car.

It was obvious that Peter was making great efforts not to exceed the speed. It's just that Peter loved his superpower so much that he used it whenever he could and if he didn't, he was terribly bored. Along the way Peter was trying to figure out what we had bought by looking sideways at the bags on my lap but I didn't give him a chance to guess.

"Come on babe let me see what it is"-He said as he put an arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, it's a surprise"-I said leaning on his shoulder

"And wouldn't you do it for a pretty boy like me?"

Peter kept taking quick glances at the bags but without losing concentration on the way.

"Bold of you to say you're pretty"

Maximoff did not resist and tried to put the hand that was around my shoulder into the bag that rested on my lap.

"No, Peter stop! You act like a child!"-I said annoying

I quickly pulled Pet's hand out of the bags and held it tightly between my legs, which was a bad idea because Peter gave me one of his typical smirks and began to gently caress his fingertips along my thighs that were discovered by the skirt that I was wearing

"Peter.."-I said in a warning tone

"You were right, this is more fun"

The sprinter moved closer to my crotch under my skirt and I had to squeeze his arm hard as he let out a contained growl. With all the peace of mind in the world with his free hand Peter now caressed the inner part of both my thighs while with the other hand resting on the steering wheel he drove the car

"I hate you"-I said controlling my gasps

"I know"

We were finally getting to the mansion so Peter stopped the torture but I was still blushing. We both got out of the car while the girls did the same and we unloaded the food truck in the school yard. The teachers worked in the stands assembling wooden stands and painting them. He could see that some were excited and others like Logan would rather sleep on a train track than do all that. I grabbed the bags before Peter knew it and ran with the other girls to our rooms to change.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everything was almost finished, from the windows you could see the patio of the mansion full of game stalls like in fairs. It was impressive how they had finished everything so quickly but then I remembered that they had the great help of Quicksilver. Rogue and I were putting on our clothes. Anna had bought a pretty light blue dress with big white polka dots and she wore her hair loose and wavy with a light blue bow headband decorating her head. For my part, I had put on the black leather leggings with the black off-the-shoulder blouse and had curled my hair. I did a fancy spin in front of the mirror to which Rogue excitedly told me.

"My God y/n you are beautiful! You look like the real Sandy!!"

"And you are divine too!"

Anne was about to answer me when there was a knock on the door.

"If it's Peter I'll kill him"

I went to open the door and when I did my eyes widened in surprise. Stalls were Jean and Jubilee. The first one was wearing skinny jeans with the sleeve rolled up a bit to reach her calf and was wearing a white halter top with straps that tied at the neck and was white with small red polka dots. On the other hand, Jubilee wore a beautiful white skirt with red polka dots, the same one she had chosen in the store along with the leather jacket and also a red shirt tied with a bow in front at the navel. Jean wore a curly high ponytail and Jubilee had her hair loose and wavy like Anna.

"Wow.."

Anna who came behind me smiled broadly.

"The girls are beautiful, and you were right Jean, a dress would not have fit you as well as those pants"

"And with those hips that you have you will attract all eyes"-said Jubilee laughing as she bumped her hips against Jean's.

Jean pretended to be angry but couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Well girls, what do you think if we go to the yard to have a good time?"-I said

We all went out to the garden while I carried a basket with clothes in case someone wanted to dress and didn't have the right clothes. When we got out I could really appreciate what a wonderful job everyone had done. Each booth was identical to the one in the movie, they had even managed to recreate the "Shake Shack" where the protagonists dance at the end.

The girls went to order ice cream while I walked towards an arcade. Luckily I was wearing red heels with a wide and thick heel that allowed me to walk on the grass without ending up with the tip of the heel buried in the ground. Henry was manning the booth, I just had to knock over a stack of cans with a ping pong ball.

"Hey y/n, Do you want to try your luck?"

"Give me that ball now"-I said smiling confident

But when I was aiming to throw the ping pong ball I felt that someone had stopped next to me accompanied by a buzz. I was about to make a sarcastic comment about Peter as I turned my head to look at him but when I did the ball almost fell out of my hands. Peter was wearing a white T-shirt with a black leather jacket and matching black pants, plus he had combed back (but no gel) that silver hair he always wore tousled. I didn't even try to suppress a smile, let alone the laughter that flowed from my lips.

"What's up John Travolta"-I said non-stop laughing

"Hey, I don't look so bad and you know it"-he said a little offended as he ran a hand through his hair

I hated to admit it but Peter was right, he looked so sexy in those clothes and I loved it when he ran his hand through his hair like that, but I would never say it out loud to him.

Without answering, I got ready to throw the cans. I usually didn't have a bad aim but that day it seemed like I had forgotten all skill, and to top it off, every time I missed a shot Peter booed me like he was on a soccer field.

"Can you stop doing that?"-I turned to face him furiously

"Nope"

was his mature response while he smiled innocently but his eyes showed mischief

"Ok, try it, I want to see you"

Peter grabbed the ball confidently and started knocking over the cans at full speed.

"No, not like that! that's cheating!"

"Of course not"-he made a face of indignation

"Uhm, actually she's right, it's against the rules"

"Ha!"-I shot Peter a triumphant look.

"Oh c'mon! What kind of rule is that?"

"I'm sorry, rules are rules"-Henry said

"Fine, but if he won you owe me a favor"

I was about to complain but stopped myself, remembering how annoying Peter can be if we don't come to an agreement. He would chase me around the mansion making annoying noises like a 6 year old.

So I gave him my place and he settled in to throw the ball. Even though he wasn't using his superpower, he had a great aim and managed to knock down all the cans without much effort. Henry clapped while Peter strutted around to make me angry.

"The winner can claim his prize"

Henry pointed out the prizes that were there. A panda bear stuffed animal, a Nerf gun, a box of chocolates among other things. Peter was tempted to claim the toy gun but opted for the panda bear

I widened my eyes in surprise, thinking that Peter would choose something else.

"For you"

Maximoff gave me the panda bear that was fairly large, when he proposed it could become very romantic

"Thank you"-I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear flirtatiously

I hugged the teddy bear tenderly as I made my way to the ice cream truck with Peter. He bought a strawberry ice cream for him, he offered me one too but I kindly declined

"You know? I must admit that your idea was not that bad, at least there is free food"

Peter said as he sucked on his ice cream that was threatening to melt while I chuckled.

Hearing Peter admit that I was right was the most satisfying thing in the world. And of course I would not miss the opportunity to tease him.

"Oh sorry, what did you say? I don't think I heard you right"-I said as I placed my open palm near my ear feigning deafness.

"Don't make me say it again"-he frowned

"Or what?"-I smiled mischievously

Peter smiled too as he tipped his ice cream up to my nose. I backed away yelling his name angrily as we started an unequal fight in which Peter wanted to continue smearing his ice cream on my face and I, with one hand grabbing my stuffed animal, tried to push Peter away with the other hand.

"Ok ok I give up!"-I said laughing with Pet

Suddenly the song "You're the one that I want" began to play through a speaker and I gave a scream of emotion that scared Peter and he looked at me as if something bad happened to me.

"Peter, that's my favorite song come let's dance!!"

And without waiting for an answer, I quickly dragged Peter to where the music was playing, which caused him to spill the ice cream on the grass. The other students had also gathered to dance to the song, Jubilee and Rogue were dancing together while Jean had partnered with Scott. I placed the panda bear that Peter had given me on a basket and began to move my hips and feet to the rhythm of the music, letting myself go. I would throw my head back making my curls bounce and move my shoulders gracefully. Peter was gawking at me, it seemed my tight leggings worked. He was somewhat embarrassing to dance in public but he happily joined me. Peter came up behind me following my movements from side to side with his hands on my hips. I turned around so I could place my hand on his shoulders while I clasped my hands behind his neck and we began to move our shoulders forward and backward, accompanying the movements with our torso.

The music was blaring so I quickly trotted over to the "Shake shack" with Peter following behind. I went up the stairs and forced Peter to his knees and then nudged my shoe into his shoulder which left Peter scrambling like a dog as he came up the stairs with a goofy grin on his face. When he stood up and the machine began to move from side to side like a mechanical bull, I hung over Pet like a monkey wrapping my legs around his hips as he hugged my back. We danced back and forth while the others watched us clapping to the rhythm of the song. I looked into Peter's eyes and he did too but I could tell how sometimes he looked down at my waist. My pelvis was brushing against his lower belly and Peter was trying very hard not to blush.

We continued dancing normally until the song ended and we went down exhausted from the "Shake shack"

Now I was the one strutting around in front of Peter walking around like I was a model. Peter had just noticed my black outfit with my red heels and matching lipstick, I couldn't tell but he thought I had a delicious figure. The other students had dispersed from the garden and were playing in the fair stalls or eating, some bored or tired returned to school. I sat on a bench while Peter did the same next to me.

"Not bad up there, huh?"

I leaned an arm on the back of the bench while crossing my legs and staring at him with a smile

"Are you saying it for you or for me?"

Peter made a funny face trying to appear nonchalant, expelling air through the lips making them sound like a trumpet.

"I say it for myself, obviously"

"Well I didn't see that you did much to dance other than not stop looking at my hips. Did you know that my eyes are up?"

I loved making Peter nervous, it was like giving him a taste of his own medicine since he always did the same to me

"Uhmm, yes of course uhmm"-Peter's cheeks turned pink-"W-would you like to go somewhere else? I think there is nothing to do here anymore"

I knew him. When Peter stuttered it was because he wanted to do dirty things.

"Mmh sure, why not"

Peter's countenance was no longer so red and a bright smile graced his face. Immediately afterwards, he lifted me up in his arms and holding my head so as not to suffer a whiplash, he took me running away from there without anyone noticing. In the blink of an eye I was sitting in the back of Peter's car, an old Falcon that he cared for like a pet.

Before I could say anything Peter stole my breath with a passionate kiss. As our tongues swirled in a pitched battle inside our mouths, I clung to Peter's hair, which was more disheveled than before. Pet knew how to kiss me or where to touch. His hands were on the side of my body, high up near my bust.

"Wait...are you sure?"-I said catching my breath

I got a mischievous smile in response and in a second Peter was gone and back with a condom in hand. Peter's wet kisses on my neck made me feel like I was in paradise. It started in my jaw and worked its way down to my shoulders and collarbones.

I threw my head back in pure pleasure, closing my eyes, which Peter took the opportunity to leave kisses and bruises in the central part below my jaw. I moaned softly feeling his teeth softly biting my skin. Peter took off his jacket and left it on the floor of the car while I lay flat on the seat. The boy couldn't wait and began to unbutton his pants. Nervous I looked at him and stopped him

"What's wrong, babe?"-he looked at me concerned with his eyebrows raised

"It's just…it's my first time"

Peter seemed relieved and, smiling, leaned close to my face to whisper to me.

"It's ok, it will probably hurt at first but then it passes"

Peter's words and breath made me start to feel that heat rise up my crotch. In order to better control the thrusts, Peter offered to let him be below and I above him. He started to lower my leather leggin but not completely until he could visualize my entrance. I lowered Pet's boxer so I could put the condom on him, his member was already hard so the task was easier. He soothed me by rubbing my thighs tenderly, I took a deep breath and slowly sat on Peter's member. A sharp, tight pain emanated from my entrance causing me to close my eyes, wincing as I let out a small moan.

"You're doing good baby, keep it up"-said Peter to encourage me

I stayed still for a moment to try to get used to it, when I felt that the pain had passed, I began to go up and down at a slow but constant pace. Peter closed his eyes and tensed his jaw as his fingers dug into my thighs. Our breaths were quickening and a concert of moans was fogging up the windows. All the pain that I felt at the beginning had given way to a sensation of infinite pleasure that ran through my body and my belly like an electric current. I leaned a little closer to Peter's chest and put my hands under his white shirt. He understood and took it away. Dear God, Peter was often ashamed of his body but what he was seeing now was priceless. His pectorals and abdomen were marked like a Greek sculpture. Feverish, I stuck my fingers into his stomach and began to scratch gently while massaging. Peter let out a grunt of pleasure as he frantically raised his pelvis, increasing his thrusts.

I could already feel Peter's member fully hardened inside me while my walls were contracting.

"Fuck peter"-I gasped

"You are very tight"-he growled, making an effort to focus his eyes on me.

We were both practically sweating, I felt my hair stuck to my neck and nape. I increased the thrusts going at a faster pace to be able to reach the climax, and at the least expected moment I felt like a waterfall was released inside me. But Peter wasn't done with me so I kept swaying my hips until he said.

"I-I'm about to.. cum"-Peter's voice came out hoarse with excitement.

I was at the edge of my strength when I felt the warm liquid of Peter come out and fill me under me. I stopped moving and sat still on him while we caught our breath. I slowly withdrew from him as if his cock were made of glass and I was about to break it. I lay down next to him and squeezed until we both got inside. Pet hugged me lovingly as he caressed my back and I rested my head on his sweaty bare chest, I looked up to see him, he looked very sexy with his hair plastered to his face.

"Do you think the others will realize that we are not here?"-I asked suddenly

"Probably, it bothers you?"

"Not at all"

[ticifics]

Cherry Lips

Peter Maximoff x f!reader

Summary: In which Peter can't look away from your mouth

Warnings: fluffy, suggestive, est. relationship, no use of y/n

A/N: This was completely based on a video I saw (unfortunately I didn't save it), I could only imagine oh my god, this is sooo Peter. And one of the most liked comments was: this can only be very good, because if it was bad, it would have happened to me already. and this is so real, I really need to stop opening the comments (dramatic sighs)

It was almost criminal, the way you messed with Peter. Sitting side by side on one of those high-backed diner booths, he had a perfect view of you—which should have been a bonus, but was proving to be more of a punishment. You were distracted, holding the most ridiculous milkshake he had ever seen, complete with syrup, sprinkles, whipped cream, and a cherry on top. But that wasn’t what held his attention. Not at all.

Peter’s dark eyes were fixed on you. More precisely, on your mouth.

He tried to look away, to focus on anything else—the blinking neon from the jukebox, the sound of some classic rock playing in the background, or even the waiter walking by with a tray full of fries. Nothing worked. Not when you parted your lips around the straw, or when the tip of your tongue flicked out, barely visible, to taste the bit of whipped cream that had escaped.

The effect you had on him was insane. Peter knew he should say something, break the silence before it became painfully obvious how desperately lost he was in every little detail of you. But how was he supposed to act normal when everything about you felt like an invitation? He wasn’t made of steel, after all.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on in that head of yours, or just keep staring at me like a cute psychopath?" you asked, raising an eyebrow with an amused smile while stirring the milkshake topping with your straw.

Peter let out a short laugh, running a hand through his silver hair, messing up the already unruly strands. "Cute psychopath? Wow. What an honor. But I prefer the term ‘charming admirer.’ Fits me better, don’t you think?"

You laughed, and he got even more lost in you, that sound echoing in a part of his mind that belonged only to you.

"Alright, charming admirer. Want some?" You pushed the milkshake toward him, your eyes sparkling with challenge.

He leaned in slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his expression turning thoughtful, dimples only adding to his natural charm. "Hmm… actually, I was thinking of something else."

Before you could ask what, Peter reached out and plucked the cherry from the top of the milkshake. He twirled it lightly between his fingers as if analyzing it.

"Did you know cherries are like… the universal symbol of something irresistible?"

"You just made that up," you replied, laughing, but leaning in slightly, curious about what he was up to.

"Maybe." He smiled in that signature way of his—half mischievous, half lovestruck—his dark eyes gleaming as he held the cherry out toward you, bringing it closer to your lips.

"But just to prove my point… try it," he murmured, his voice low and husky, as if keeping that moment just between the two of you was some sacred secret.

He held the cherry with an almost exaggerated gentleness, offering it to you. His dark eyes never left yours, but the closer you leaned in, the more they flickered down to your mouth. The intensity of it made the air around you feel heavier. He wasn’t even trying to hide how obsessed he was with your every movement.

And you knew it. Of course, you did. Still, you pretended not to notice, as if the only thing that mattered was the cherry he held just inches from your lips.

His lips curved into a lazy, teasing smile as you moved closer, hesitating just enough to make the moment even more charged. Your eyes locked onto his, and he thought he might have stopped breathing.

It was unbearable, the way your lips parted. You didn’t say a word, but that single movement felt like a perfectly crafted torment, made just for him. Peter felt his heart race, his stomach tighten. It was like you were reading his mind, like you knew exactly what kind of disaster you were causing by leaning in like that, your eyes shining, your mouth so close.

He couldn’t take it.

Just as your lips were about to brush against the cherry, Peter let it drop onto the table like it was completely irrelevant—and closed the distance between you in an instant.

His mouth crashed against yours with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. There was no hesitation, only urgency. The kiss wasn’t soft, wasn’t careful. It was hungry, like he had been holding this in for too long and simply couldn’t contain himself anymore.

His hand slid to your waist, firm and possessive, while the other rested on the back of the booth behind you, trapping you between him and the cushioned wood. His touch was warm, and the way he pulled you closer seemed to say everything he didn’t have the courage to put into words. Peter kissed you like it was the only thing that mattered, like everything in that moment depended on you being there with him.

You let out a small sound against his lips, and it only made him more desperate. The way he tilted his head, exploring every little movement, made it seem like he wanted to memorize every detail. His mouth was demanding, yet there was a hidden tenderness in it, as if, even in his urgency, he wanted to take care of you.

When he finally pulled away—just enough to look at you—Peter’s gaze was dark, heavy with something that felt both dangerous and so genuinely full of love that it made your chest tighten. His lips were parted, still flushed from the kiss, and his breath was ragged, almost as loud as the muffled sounds of the diner in the background.

For a second, neither of you spoke. You just stayed there, so close you could feel his breath against your skin, the heat of his body making it nearly impossible to think straight.

“That was…” you started, but your voice came out low, almost a whisper, which made the corner of his mouth curl into a satisfied smile.

“Necessary,” he finished, his voice rough and laced with humor, but there was something else there—something that said he would do it all over again without hesitation.

“Stealing kisses is a crime,” you said, but your voice was softer, like you weren’t really complaining.

“So is stealing hearts,” he replied, grinning, his dimples deeper than ever. “But luckily, I think you already gave me yours for free.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be indignant, but the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made any attempt to appear unaffected completely useless.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, but the smile on your lips betrayed how lost you were in him.

“Impossibly irresistible,” he corrected, winking as he picked up the cherry and brought it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. With an easy, almost lazy motion, he bit into the fruit, and the juice dripped onto his lips so effortlessly that you had to look away before the situation became even more dangerous.

He chewed slowly, savoring the cherry like it was a prize. His dimples appeared again when he smiled, the triumph so obvious that you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m good at this,” he murmured, almost to himself, but the way his eyes stayed on you made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

“If by ‘this’ you mean being unbearable, then yes, congratulations,” you replied, biting your lip to keep from laughing as you looked away. But his hand was still on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles against your skin, and you knew that was the real problem. Because no matter how much you tried to hide it, you weren’t even close to resisting him.

And, frankly, Peter knew that too.

[silverzoomies]

quickie 22 please please please🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Peter Maximoff/Reader drabble: ⚡"Shh, just a little more..."⚡ warnings: dilf!peter, wardrobe malfunctions, awkward boners. this one isn't as filthy as it could be. sorry! i'll try and make the next ones extra filthy as compensation 💗

In one of the mansion’s guest bathrooms, Peter tugs the useless zipper of his dress pants.

Tonight’s the big night. Some millionaire humans are hosting another boring party. Big name politicians. Or business managers. Or whatever. Who the hell knows? Peter sure doesn’t. The last thing he wants is to attend another fancy affair. But Charles told the team it was mandatory. If only to make a positive impression on humans.

Eugh. Peter can’t stand that kinda shit. Playing kiss ass for a bunch of rich assholes. Elitist pricks who don’t care whether mutants live or die. On nights like this, Peter almost sympathizes with his absent father’s extremist mentality.

The team are all dressed up in expensive suits and glittery gowns. They wait together in the entrance hall. Five and half minutes passed since Peter insisted he’d be ready to go.

And, see, he didn’t mean to come back so late tonight.

He only wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible. Right down to the last second, Peter immersed himself completely in Luna’s little world. It’s not his fault he rarely gets to see her. His ex Crystal keeps him at such an arm’s length. Peter fears he won’t have a real relationship with the little peanut if he doesn't make the most of every moment.

Again. Running behind schedule? Not his fault.

And the fact that his zipper got stuck? That’s not his fault either. Peter wrestles with the godforsaken thing for another two minutes. He’s driving himself insane with it, since it took him only a half second to dress up in his newly tailored, uber expensive, rental suit.

Which, by the way, Peter won’t hesitate to admit; even though he hates dressing up, he looks ultra sharp. Like a suave, silver fox.

In a superspeed blur, he fumbles with the zipper to no avail. He alternates between squatting and standing. Peter tugs even harder, but the goddamn thing won’t budge. Even more frustrating, he can’t bend over enough to get a look at what’s causing his wardrobe malfunction. Another minute passes. And just when he thinks he’s gonna give up, go out, and give the world a peek at his undies; you come knocking at the door.

Peter’s saving grace. Like an angel from the heavens.

For a half second, the door flies open before Peter pulls you quickly inside by your arm. He drags you into the cramped, guest bathroom with him. With his back against the sink, he takes another half-second to check you out. Peter’s beady, lidded eyes zip all across, up and down your body, admiring your figure in a luxury dress. 

You whisper-shout at him, gesturing wildly with your hands, “What’s taking you so long? Scott’s about to freak out! Our ride’s here waiting and everything. Logan said we should just leave you here!” 

Oh. Right. The party. He almost forgot. Pulling his speedy gaze from your hips, Peter focuses on his cumbersome zipper again. “I’ll be there in a sec. Promise! Jeez. Can’t they all just slow their roll? Someone really needs to teach those guys some patience, amiright?” Peter snickers, grabbing a handful of his crotch, tugging his zipper hard with his opposite, “Motherfu-”

“You...uh...having some trouble?” 

You cross your arms, cocking a hip to the side as you watch his thick fingers fight his zipper. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Nope. I just felt like goin’ on a date with Pamela Handerson before our big night. What’s it look like??”

Cracking the briefest hint of a smile, you shake your head and wave your hands dismissively. “We don’t have time for this.” You note.

"You're tellin' me. I just can't get it to-" Peter stiffens as you step closer, pressing your curvy body against his, "Oh, hell-o."

With the stressful determination of a mother on school picture day; you double check the rest of his suit. Your gentle hands smooth the faint crinkles in his dress shirt, doing the same with his jacket, adjusting his tie - all before bringing your hand down to his crotch. Following a short apology, you blindly feel for that pesky zipper. On accident, you grab a firm handful of something else.

Peter jolts in place against the sink, canting his hips into your touch. In a flash, he latches a strong grip around your wrist. The corners of his eyes crinkle with fine lines as he playfully narrows his gaze.

“Whoaaa, there. Easy with the merchandise, baby.”

“Whoops! My bad. I'm just trying to help.” You raise a quizzical brow, challenging Peter with a look, "And who're you calling baby?"

"You is who I'm callin' baby, baby." He chimes in a playful tone, matching your teasing gaze.

He loosens his hold on your wrist, giving you free rein to continue.

After a beat or two, he adds, "And, hey, if you're still down for later..."

"Down? Down for what?"

"Y'know. Shopping for merchandise?"

He notices the way you suppress a riled laugh, ignoring his advances for the time being. You fight with his problematic zipper for a solid minute or two before ultimately sinking to your knees. Perching yourself on the floor in front of him, nose to crotch, you lean in as closely as you can. Peter feels blossoming heat flare up in his cheeks. Swallowing hard, he rests his hands on the edge of the sink behind him.

For a momentary instant, you lean back on with your ass resting on your heels. Peter gets a choice view of your flush cleavage. Pillowy and coaxing him to stare. He gnaws his lip and knits his mercury brows. His dusky gaze follows the motion of you leaning in, practically burying your face in his crotch to get a good look at the pesky pants culprit.

“Uhhh…hey…look, you really don’t gotta-” He chokes, his fingers clenching the countertop tighter.

“Aha! I found it! Just gimme a quick sec.”

A loose piece of fabric caught the zipper. You bring both hands up to try and tear it free, but it still won’t budge. Taking a more risky approach, you pull his fly open, ripping the piece of cloth with your teeth. Peter shudders as a sublime tingle races through his body. Warmth swarms in his groin. A more vulnerable expression overtakes his worn, rugged features.

“Oh my g-...uhm…babe…it’s cool. Seriously. You can stop now. I won’t hold it against you. Thanks for tryin'. I’ll just take one for the team and-”

You pull back again with a focused whisper, squinting your eyes.

“Shh, just a little more...”

“N-No. I’m not foolin’ around. I really think you should call it quits before-”

“SHHHH! Wait, I got it!”

It’s not until your teeth shred the fabric, freeing the zipper at last - that you realize he’s pitching a tent in his pants. Your hand rests over his crotch, and you can feel him pulsing hotly under your palm. Freezing in place, gaping at the (impressive) bulging sight before you, you steadily tilt your head up. Your pretty eyes peer at Peter with partial caution, and partial curiosity.

When you meet his sluggish, wide-eyed gaze; Peter has a hand covering his mouth. Staring down at you, his face burns blazing hot. He pauses, running his hand up from his mouth and through his silver hair, mussing the clean look he took so much time (a few microseconds) to style.

"Okay. In my defense-"

"Been a while?" You taunt him with a flirty chuckle.

Peter tips his head back, exhaling a throaty laugh, "Yeah. Been while."

[wcnderlnds]

──★ dracula's vacation home / peter maximoff

requested by my bestie @xmidnight-rain ily for always giving me things to write. halloween / fall drabbles with prompts from here. feel free to request any <3

Worn out silver Converse scuffed against the wet dirt, Peter’s footsteps heavy as he followed you through the graveyard. Not exactly the first place he would’ve chosen for a hang out but he’d follow you anywhere. It was ridiculous the hold you had on him. Whatever you said, he came running like some lost puppy. He supposed it was because you were the only person that really gave him the time of day. Everyone else put up with him but you actually listened and willingly seeked him out. Peter had never really had someone like that in his life so if you wanted to traipse through a graveyard during the middle of the night then who was he to say no?

He hadn’t been paying attention when you came to a stop, fingers playing around with the buttons on his walkman (making sure he hadn’t lost it or some ghoul hadn’t stolen it from him to jam out in the afterlife) instead of watching where he was going and he ended up walking straight into your back. “Oof,” he took a step back, the mud splashing over his favourite shoes. It was fine – he’d get his mom to clean them later. Just because he was an adult didn’t mean he couldn’t still rely on her. How was he supposed to know how to get dirt off a pair of Converse anyway?

“What we lookin’ at?” He asked, arms folded across his chest. His dark eyes adjusted to the dark, the dimly lit lamps in the graveyard doing nothing but casting an orange glow about the place. Before him stood a medieval stone looking building – small with carvings etched into it, the heavy door slightly ajar. He knew exactly what it was. A damn crypt. “Ah, hell nah.”

“Peter, come on! It’ll be fun,” you pleaded, your delicate fingers grasping at the bicep of his arms.

“No way. I’m all for a little late night stroll in a creepy graveyard, babe, but ain’t no way you’re getting my ass in that dank…” he leaned forward towards the door a little, taking a sniff. He backed off immediately, face scrunched up. “...stinky crypt. Who the hell knows what’s in there! Could be some murderers hiding out or… maybe whatever person died in there rose from the dead and turned into a zombie and all they’re waiting for is two dumbasses with small brains to take a casual wander inside. I am not going in there.”

“You scared?” You challenged him.

“Me, scared? Pfft,” he rolled his eyes, his voice giving him away. 

“What if I go in and you keep watch?”

“See, now I’m really startin’ to believe you’ve lost your mind. You think I’m about to let you roam around inside Dracula’s vacation home by yourself?” Despite the fact he so adamantly didn’t want to step a foot inside the place, he pulled the door open. “Fine but if we die, I’m haunting you for the rest of our undead life.”

You took the hand that he had outstretched for you, fingers lacing together as you pulled him inside. Peter was second guessing it the second the sole of his foot stepped down the first step but this was for you. And, unfortunately, he’d do anything for you.

tag list (ask to be added or removed): @xmidnight-rain @jazz-berry @lemoniiiiiii @juliamaximoff @honeymoon8 @lacucarachapisser @evanpetersbf (im forgetting ppl im so sorry just lemme know again <3)