#xmen x reader smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quickandsilvers · 5 months

Note

REQUEST FROM THE SLEEP HEADCANON!!!¡

💤💤💤💤

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

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

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

UHM YES?!?!

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

Wet Dream 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

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

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

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

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

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

A glance at your phone read 11:06 PM.

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

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

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

Fwip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fwip.

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

“Can’t we jus’ watch E.T?” Crunch.

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

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

You weren't even lying.

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

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

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

“One word. Emmannuelle.” Crunch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can do this another time–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” Peter hummed, clearly unconvinced.

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

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

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

——————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter.. Ngaah- wai-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wake up..” heh?

"C’mon. Wake up!"

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

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

Oh. OH.

—--------------

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

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

It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.

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

Good thing you did it before him then.

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

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

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

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

“Babe?” Peter called quietly into the dark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you began moving again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nghnaa- Peterr,” you whimpered.

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

Holy. Fuck.

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

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

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

Holy-

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

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

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

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

"Nice dream, princess?"

Ooh, he is gonna ruin you.

—-----------------------------

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

"What makes you think that?" You stuttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You belong to me.”

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

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

Peter came in his pants. Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Schweeeett.

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost,” you teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed to bring out the movie nights more often.

~~~~

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

Of course the whole team noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

592 notes · View notes

frankenkyle19 · 5 months

Text

The Twinkie Thief

Peter Maximoff x fan!reader smut

word count: 8.4k!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And luckily, it wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter Maximoff… aka Quicksilver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay but the party is downstairs-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“First?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Decent.” You shrugged, taking another sip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think that’ll work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

403 notes · View notes

shrenvents · 5 days

Text

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to tie my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can vividly imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that isn’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is only more strained as his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coating his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face of yours," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I guffaw, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

160 notes · View notes

evanboodaddy · 8 months

Text

no one makes a psycho look so hot the way Evan Peters does

849 notes · View notes

slutforgarlogan · 2 months

Text

"You can check if you like" | Peter Maximoff x F! Reader

Summary: Peter comes back from a mission with a wound and you patch him up. He takes the opportunity to tease you.

Warnings: nsfw content, fingering, teasing, Peter being a cocky asshole

"Oh my god what happened to you?" you jump up from your seat when the team gets back from their mission, noticing the bleeding coming from your boyfriends head. You'd be lying if you said he didn't look hot all bloodied up, but you were too concerned with his wellbeing to indulge in the urge to make out with him.

Peter gives you his usual cocky smile, ignoring your concern "I'm fine babe, its just a scratch." You aren't convinced, but you know he wont go back on the statement, ever the cocky bitch despite his constant dramatics. You raise an eyebrow at him to indicate you dont believe him, "Please just let me look at it anyway"

Peter rolls his eyes and groans, smiling at you playfully while he does so - but he doesn't protest and takes you to one of the bathrooms with a fwip.

Though he does that all the time, you never expect it - and the speed always makes you feel ill and disoriented. You take a second to ground yourself, before getting the first aid things out of the bathroom cabinet to sort him out, and speaking to him as you rifle through it. "You're okay everywhere else yeah, nothing got through your suit?"

"You can check if you like" His tone is suggestive and he wiggles his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes at his answer - taking that as a no. He watches you for a second, and then sits down on the closed toilet lid before you have the chance to tell him to.

You move to stand in front of him, subconsciously situating yourself between his legs where he was practically manspread, and you push his goggles onto the top of his head, trying to make sure his hair stays tucked under them and out the way. The cut looks deep, and you wince a little thinking about it. You lock eyes with him as you pick up a little cotton pad and alcohol to clean the wound - you've done this a fair few times and he knows the drill, but you warn him regardless. "It's gonna sting a second Quickie"

You press the alochol soaked cotton pad on the wound, making sure to be gentle, and Peter grips onto the nearest thing when you do so, which happens to be your thigh. The feel of his hand on you shoots to your core immediately, and your breath hitches for half a second before you catch yourself and ignore it. You keep cleaning the wound, eventually moving on to clean the dried blood around it, and Peters leg is bouncing as he starts to get bored and restless.

You lock eyes with him and lean back a second. "Peter, sit still, find something in here to distract yourself im nearly done i promise" There's a certain look in his eye when he looks at you, and you can see an idea forming in his head, and you worry slightly what ridiculous idea you've accidentally caused him to have, but you get back to what you're doing anyway.

As you grab a roll of bandaid and scissors to cut it down to fit the wound, you feel a hand at the top of your thigh, fingers hooking into your panties to get them down a little - you try to ignore it and focus on finishing what you're doing, holding the roll up unrolling a little bit to see how much you need.

You hear a little cocky laugh from Peter as his finger prods at your folds and you could have ripped his suit off him there and then. But you try not to react, steadying your breathing before you look at him. "Whats funny"

He looks up at you, a shit eating grin on his face. "You're so wet and i haven't even touched you"

A pink shade dusks over your cheeks as you roll your eyes, in your head you know exactly what made you wet, but you know he'll poke fun at you for it so you don't tell him. "Shut up"

You cut a bit of a bandaid off the roll, big enough to fit the wound, and as you do so, he slides a finger into you, thrusting it in and out at a painfully slow pace - but he doesnt take long to slide a second finger in. He is still in his suit, and the gloves of the suit feel weird. The feeling is foreign but good. Your breathing goes a bit shaky as you try to concentrate, putting the roll down and picking up the bit you cut off, flipping it around to peel the back off, struggling a little fiddling with it.

Peter speeds up his fingers, curling them inside you to hit the spot that makes you whine a little, earning the same shit eating grin as before as he makes sure to keep hitting that spot. He brings his other hand to circle your clit as you finally get the back off the band aid, and you moan out as he draws figure 8's over the sensitive bud. "Fuckk Peter"

You stick the band-aid over the wound carefully but quickly, placing your hands on his shoulders as soon as you're done, breathing heavily and whimpering a bit. "Peter please"

He speeds up the finger on your clit, practically vibrating it and you moan loudly, legs shaking as you try hold yourself up properly and your walls clench around his fingers a little.

Thats when he stops. You look at him with pleading eyes "What the fuck"

He laughs a little "You've finsihed patching me up"

You look at him dumbfounded and annoyed, you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you.

"You wanna check under my suit now?"

#peter maximoff smut #evan peters #peter maximoff x reader #xmen #american horror story #evan peters smut #marvel smut #quicksilver #quicksilver smut #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff x you #quicksilver x you #smut

188 notes · View notes

loganbcrnes · 1 year

Note

Hello! I have an idea for a Logan x F reader story. I’ve always thought it’d be funny if Logan got so worked up while doing the deed and he breaks the bed frame and both him and the reader laugh it off in good fun.

So sorry it took so long to write this! Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x fem!reader

Requested: yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, little bit of praise, daddy kink, hard sex, jealousy, bed gets broken, possessiveness (not toxic), body type & ethnicity isn't mentioned.

Word count: 1,662

“I was NOT flirting with him! How many times do I need to tell you that?” you scolded. “Don’t act stupid, I saw you laughing with him.” Logan grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“So what?, I work with him Lo, he just said something funny. I can’t believe you’re assuming such…thoughts, and I’m not stupid!” You look up at him. By now, you were getting annoyed. Daniel was…nice, but he was also a creep that didn’t understand you were not interested, not that were you available anyways.

“I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat” Logan had a fixed glare on his face as he kept driving. You sighed and reached your hand onto his thigh, feeling the tight muscles clench. “You know I love you, you’ve got nothing to be jealous about, maybe you shouldn't have been so busy talking to your buddies” Leaning back towards the window. Logan sucked in a breathe, he turned to face you and let out a scowl whilst shaking his head.

“Wait until we get back home Princess, I’ll show you who you belong to.” Logan grumbled darkly. You let out a quiet gasp, he words he uttered sent shocks right to your core. you loved it when Logan got possessive.

————

Logan walks into the bedroom carrying you with your legs wrapped around his waist. He places you onto the bed. "Strip down to your panties and lay down with your head over the edge," He commands, to which you immediately comply. He stands behind you while you look up at him, anticipating his next order. “What do ya’ want, Bub? Hmm? Want me to touch ya’? Fuck ya’ hard enough until your crying for me to stop? Is that what’chu want?” he caressed his thumb against your cheek. “Yes, please, daddy. I promise I’ll be good.” You begged, your breathe shaking. Logan hummed in consideration. “I really didn’t like that jerk talking to you..gonna show ya’ who ya’ belong to, bub.” His voice was so calm, it made your heart beat so fast. You watched as Logan walked to the bedside table to take out some lube, he place it beside you head. "Put your hand down your panties," Logan orders, his eyes scanning your body. "Rub that little pussy for me. Just like you were doing this morning." With a deep breath, you slip your hand past your underwear, before finding your throbbing clit and rubbing small, quick circles onto it. You watch Logan as he stripped out of his checked shirt. You bite your lip, relishing the view of his muscled body on display just for you, only you. It made your clit throb even harder to the point it nearly hurt. "That's my girl," He mumbles, your heart skipping a beat at the praise, before the delicious sound of his belt buckle opening fills your ears. "I'm giving you what you want, but you gotta give daddy what he wants too, bub." He takes out his hard thick cock and brings it to your lips. You suck on the mushroom head, twirling your tongue over the slit. You hear Logan groan. Not bothering with letting you slowly adjust and instead pushing it into your mouth. His balls touches your chin when his tip hits the back of your throat. He quickens the pace and begins fucking your face. Small whimpers escape around his cock as you continue playing with yourself. He leans down squeezing your tit and pinching your nipple between his fingers. "That's it, keep going," He says, letting out a groan. "Keep rubbing that pussy like the dirty whore you are. Get so wet just from sucking on daddy's cock, huh? Fucking choke on it, Princess, that's a good girl." Logan loves the sight of your drool spilling out your mouth and pouring up your cheeks, where it meets your tears. His precum mixes in with your saliva, coating your skin while you continue to gag on his big dick. You rub your clit faster, feeling your pleasure build up. "Make yourself cum," He orders gravely, fucking your throat harder. "Now." His gruff command pushes you to the edge and soon you're cumming all over your own fingers, whining onto his cock. You shudder a little, gasping when he pulls his cock out of your mouth. “Good girl.” He praises you. “Now, get on your back and spread your legs.” You do as he’s told not wanting to waste any more time. Logan squirts lube onto his cock, making wet noises as strokes himself, tightening his grip at the base as he watches you spread your legs, your throbbing cunt on display. Logan’s powerful body casts a shadow over you. He stands there in all of his glory, stroking his wet cock and just watching you. he seemed intimidating, like the deadly man you knew he was, who’s killed hundreds of people. He looked threatening in a way that made your arousal flood your senses.

Climbing over you so that his face was level with your stomach, he spoke low now, his voice tight and thick with lust, you felt his words deep inside, as the hunger pooled between your thighs. He followed up your stomach with hot trailing, kisses. ‘Mmm, how do you want it baby?’ He asked quietly, “…Want me to mark ya’ all up?” kiss You were groaning now, squirming beneath him and his stubble and sideburns tickled your skin. He reached your neck, nipping it then grinned salaciously into your hooded eyes. “Please, daddy.” You mewled. “Or you want me to fuck you rough and wild, baby? The animalistic fucking you love so much? The way that has you screaming my name? Or do I draw it out? Touch you nice and slow until you’re trembling under my hands? Begging for my cock? Even I don’t think I have the patience for that tonight.” Jesus, you moaned and gasped, bucking your hips to him, his cock rubbing against your clit, desperate for some sort of touch, grinding your body into his, silently begging him to take you. He was so good at this stupid teasing game, it wasn’t fair to play any more, you craved more than just his words, as dirty as they were. “Please…I swear to God, Logan” you growled, wanting nothing more than his thick cock inside of you.

Logan chuckled darkly, he leaned back to line up the tip of his cock at your gaping entrance. Roughly he thrusts into you not leaving you with any time to get used to his size. No matter how many times he fucks you, you’re always as tight as you were when he took your virginity. "Oh fuck yeah…daddy!" "The only reason I’m giving ya’ the satisfaction of my cock without any punishment" He hissed through gritted teeth, "…is because I can see your fuckin’ desperate for it princess, taking my cock so well, huh?" "It feels so good…ungh…fuck, exactly like that Lo, harder!" He was moving faster over you, working your body into a frenzy punctuating his words with heavy thrusts. he sucks on your nipples, sending shocks down to your core due to the sensitivity. His balls slap hard against you, you had totally lost control, practically screaming for him to go deeper, to take you body and soul, give you the orgasm you craved and end the madness that was this constant sleeplessness, hardly the serene picture of feminine dignity. The bed frame clashes against the wall with each brutal thrust. He takes a hold of the bed frame with one hand while his other grips your waist tight, leaving bruises. Without warning, the bed frame breaks, and Logan let's out a growl and throws the wood across the room, you gasp "Logan!-" You have no time to speak, because Logan sets up a fast pace once again. "Fuck, look at what you made me do, doll. God you feel amazing, made me break the fucking bed frame" He grunts when you squeeze around his cock. "Logan, god, I'm so close, please don't stop" You yelped, the broken bed frame long forgotten. Logan changes position. He grips your legs and presses them against your chest. Slapping sounds make up the room, your breathing gets heavier. You claw at his biceps, seeing the hair dampen on his chest from the sweat. The thrusting is so brutal and nearly painful as he continues fucking into your cunt. You look down and watch his cock slide in and out of you. “See that darlin’? Your pussy was made for my cock, fits so perfectly.” He sucked on your neck, leaving marks that will be noticeable tomorrow. Logan moves his fingers downwards and begins to rub harsh circles on your already sensitive clit, making you whine. “Ah, ah, Logan” You scream, the sensation in your stomach you know so well, building up. Abruptly, Logan swapped positions with you on top, when suddenly there was a loud creak, and an even louder snap. The mattress fell to the floor at an angle, sending the two of you rolling to the floor. You screamed and fell on top of him. You began laughing wildly, covering your face as you rolled to your back. “Oh, my God,” you cried out. “I can’t believe you broke our bed!” “That wasn’t all me, sweetheart,” Logan growled, but chuckled shortly after, leaning on his elbows to look down at you. “It was mostly you,” you pointed out, your hand resting on his chest. He was on his side, peppering kisses on your forehead. “Couldn’t help myself, you felt so good.” You were still laughing. “I was about to have the best orgasm of my life, Logan! That bed was made from Asgardian oak, a gift from Thor!” Logan bit your neck. “Whatever, we’ll get a new one from Ikea” “’Ikea?” you burst out laughing, “Sure, we’ll have 50 broken beds by the end of the year and its October.” Logan moved to straddle you, pinning your arms above your head, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Hmmm, then what do you purpose we do then, doll?” “We could ask Tony if he has some vibranium to make a bed?” Logan chuckled at the suggestion and rolled his eyes. He leaned down, kissing you breathless before you could make another sound. “Why don’t we finish this off in the shower, hmm?” Logan suggested with dark smile. You could never resist that smile.

2K notes · View notes

satoru-is-the-way · 17 days

Text

Should I do X-Men 97' x Reader? Any ideas because right now I love the new show!! I can probably write for anyone !!

#x men 97 #x men comics #xmen #scott summers #logan howlett #wolverine #jean grey #magneto #erik lehnsherr #professor x #disney #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel x reader #xmen x reader

103 notes · View notes

tinfairies · 1 year

Note

I have an x men request, (separate) headcanons for Charles, Eric and Logan with an fem s/o who is a virgin?

Charles

Is more excited than he let's on.

Charles likes to be people's first, there's something about making a virgin cum within minutes.

His mutation comes in handy. He knows everything they want, what they like and if they're in pain.

He's known his lover was a virgin since they first got together, and he's waited for them to be ready ever since.

Charles can't wait to make them cum again and again. It's a fetish at this point.

Erik

He never pushed his lovers limits. He always waited for them to initiate things, being completely unaware of the fact they were a virgin.

When they do finally take things further and Erik hears that confession, he suddenly becomes more soft and loving.

He wants to make their very first time memorable and special.

He won't lie, taking someones virginity is exciting to him.

Logan

Fuck, really? He feels bad that they're going to lose their virginity to him.

Yes, he's a bit excited to be someone's first time. He is still self critical and thinks his lover deserves better.

Logan tries his best to be romantic and soft. He tries to remember back to when he lost his virginity, just to get an idea of what he should do

He will try his best, but will tell them not to expect anything spectacular.

#Xmen #xmen headcanon #xmen imagine #xmen x reader #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #charles xavier #charles xavier x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #Smut #Headcanons

1K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

smut bimbo!reader and Logan Howlett . he would be so mean

You're so right Anon, he'd be so mean in the best way possible.

Pairing: Logan "Wolverine" Howlett x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dumbification, rough sex, growling, dirty talk, cockdrunk!Reader

A/N: I don't know who's gonna be the next Wolverine but they better deliver on the feral, cocky energy.

He would be teasing you so much, thumbing at your pretty clit while his cum spills from your cunt

"Fucked so much and ya need more. I want to say I'm surprised but I'd be lyin' to ya sweetheart." Logan smirked down at you, his recovery period nearly nonexistent when you're behaving like such a bimbo

You lean forward and grab his cock, rubbing the cum over the swollen, red tip, the empty sensation between your legs driving you crazy

When you can't take it anymore you angle the tip to your entrance, Logan doesn't do anything, just watches on in amusement as you push down, taking his cock until its all the way in

"Good job darlin'." He presses your clit as his hips surge forward, his heavy balls slapping against you, "Now its my turn. Gotta make my bitch happy, lest she go to someone else."

He was just saying that, you knew he didn't really think you'd go to someone else, not with the way he fucks you

Still you couldn't help but tighten your walls around him, "'M not goin' anywhere when you're like this. I'll fuck ya into next week, just say the words. Prove that your brain still works."

Rushed pleas fall from your mouth one after another, your legs twitching as they try to wrap around Logan's hips only to fall open again when he thrusts his cock back in

"That's my good bitch." Satisfied with your babbling he leans down to your breasts and starts to kiss and bite as the softness there, his teeth marks leaving an imprint on your skin

"Mine." Logan growled as you wrapped your arms around his head, holding him close as he emptied his seed into you again, marking you as his good bitch as he put it

1K notes · View notes

missuswalker · 4 months

Note

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

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 || 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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

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

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

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

yeah, that hadn’t happened.

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

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

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

pun intended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if this man didn’t just move on already.

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

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

“peter, please.”

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

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

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

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

“do you ever shut up?”

“not that i know of.”

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

361 notes · View notes

whoreofdilfs · 9 months

Text

he is officially trying to k word me

#quicksilver #quicksilver xmen #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver fanfic #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff #xmen #xmen fox #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #xmen fanfic #x men comics #evan peters #quicksilver x you #quicksilver smut

445 notes · View notes

quickandsilvers · 2 months

Note

Consider: something like this w/Peter.

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

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

[Cue the touch bit here]

Idk, I'm just,,,,, thinking,,,,, 😳😳😳

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

Medical Malpractice and Awkward Interactions🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT 🔥

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

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

Word Count: 9905

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

—————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can anyone guess what year it came out?"

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

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

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

Christopher abruptly stopped and faced back to you.

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

“1980?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just you, babe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————————————————

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

But that was a pretty damn hard promise to fulfill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blinked. “Eh?”

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

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

“I’m fine, babe.”

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

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

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

“Easy there, tiger.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What choice did you have but to comply?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nghnaawhaaaaat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feeling any better, sir?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a- f-fuck.. good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, please-lemme cum in-"

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

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

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

Suddenly, the hot spray of water turns cold and you gasp, arching your back and clamping yourself down on Peter’s cock with all the strength you could muster, tipping him over the edge.

“I-ngh.. Shit!” Peter panted and his hips faltered, a warmth soon blooming in your cunt, filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your quivering body.

The slow, rocking rhythm Peter set with his hips soothed you, bringing you slowly down from your high while he descended from his. "Fuckin' hell, babe," he murmured, and he kissed you on the lips, then the forehead.

The room is full of the scent of arousal, and it makes you feel high up in the clouds, filling your head with the syrupy-sweet fuzziness of speedy contentment.

You must have zoned out for a little bit, because the next thing you’re aware of is the sound of the shower being turned off, and strong yet shaking arms scooping you up off your feet. You were deposited outside the walls of the shower, and then a soft towel is being worked around your body, collecting the droplets of water falling off your hair and frame.

"Let's get yer warmed up, babe."

Before long, you’re bundled up in a bathrobe, hair perfectly brushed out, and being placed gently onto the couch you had been making out with Peter on not too long ago. The volume of the TV had been lowered, allowing you to hear Peter's soft mumblings of praise in your hair as he lays below you, arms cradling you to his chest. His sweatpants feel comfy against your bare legs, and your palms rest on the cotton of his white t-shirt he had changed into.

“Can we watch The Empire Strikes Back?” Peter murmurs into your hair, making you grin as it takes you back to the day you met him in the auditorium. Humming contently, you fish your hand down the side of the sofa in search of the tv remote. You furrow your brows however as you feel something rather furry brush against your fingertips.

Pinching it between your two fingers you pluck it out of the couch, inspecting the small… seed?

Peter’s eyes follow your gaze as he gasps softly in remembrance, craning his head to the side to see an abundance of dandelion seeds littering the couch. Peter frowned. He had forgotten about the strange flower he had plucked due to the abrupt slab of concrete disrupting his day. The seedlings must have fallen out of his uniform when you were tending to his wounds.

“Shit! That was meant ter be a surprise, babe.” Peter frowned sulkily, plucking the puffball from your fingertips. “I found these weird lookin’ flowers on the mission and wanted to show them to yer. Thought i discovered a new species er somethin’.”

Despite your heart warming at the kind yet failed gesture, you laughed. “Peter, honey, they’re dandelions. Weeds.” You grinned, watching as his mouth forms an ‘o’ in realization.

“But.. at least they’re rare, right?”

You thin your lips out into a line whilst shaking your head, trying not to laugh as the speedster groans, throwing his head back.

“Ugh, I could’ve totally avoided that wall if it weren’t fer these fuckin’ things,” Peter drops the dandelion seed, letting it float to the polished wooden floor. “All that fer nothin’!”

You snuggle further against him, grazing around his bandages with a confused expression. “I do appreciate the gesture, but I thought you got these from the fight? Not from.. A wall?” You appear more perplexed as you try to imagine the scenario. “Did you.. run into it or somethin’?”

Peter sighed. Another point to add too his ‘you royally suck, dude!’ tally chart. How many times had he embarrassed himself before you now, five?

“No, it-” He grimaced “-it slammed into me.” He watched as you squinted your eyes, picturing how it went down. “Don’t fret though, babe, I totally showed it who’s boss. Knocked some sense into it.” He grinned, stroking your drying hair.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” You grin, tracing further down the trail of wounds and scratches. “Seems like it knocked more sense into you, though.”

Peter scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal before looking down at you, smiling lopsidedly. “Do I get a lolly fer bein’ so brave, doc?”

He smirks at your flushed expression and you still for a moment, before reaching into your bathrobe pocket and pulling out the panties you had strewn across the bathroom earlier. Peter's eyes widen.

“Here, take these.” You say simply, lazily dropping the material into his hand. Peter beams, face dusted pink. He’ll find some use for those, you’re sure. It won’t be a surprise if you find them framed up in his room, next to his Greta Van Fleet poster.

The next morning you change, treading down the corridor into the living room. Scott is slung across the sofa’s armrest watching the news as Jean sits on the other end by his socked feet, reading a book. Kurt and Ororo share a large armchair nearby, also watching the TV as Peter leans against a wall, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Not like he needs it anyway.

As you walk in Peter raises his mug at you, nodding and grinning toothily as you greet him back. You silently hope he hadn’t mentioned the prior events to the others.

You ask Scott to turn the volume up and he groans tardily, reaching down the back of the sofa to fish for the remote. You go into shock, however, when he furrows his brows, pulling out a lacy pair of underwear instead. Your underwear.

Scott holds them up in the air with his index finger and thumb, flushing wildly and looking around the room in search of answers. Jean lowers her book, giving you a disapproved stare before continuing her new read of the day. Ororo squeals in laughter and Kurt goes a deep shade of bluey purple, his gaze anywhere but your panties.

“Well, what do we have here?” You could hear the smugness through Scott’s voice as you look wildly across the room to Peter. He only hums, as if in question, no doubt reminiscing on the memories of last night as he sips his coffee, pleased.

You meet his eyes, desperately searching for something to say as he winks at you, strolling up behind the couch to inspect your underwear like he didn’t know whose they were.

Sighing in relief, you thought you were going to get away with it, the embarrassment slowly ebbing out of your head; that was until Peter’s voice piped up.

“Babe, I swear those are your panties, right?”

Okay, maybe Peter was a little bit of a jackass.

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

264 notes · View notes