#Quicksilver Masterlist

[galatially]

𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑓𝑓 

𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦

#my masterlist #galatially #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x black!reader #quicksilver #quicksilver masterlist #quicksilver x black!reader #masterlist

[quickandsilvers]

REQUEST FROM THE SLEEP HEADCANON!!!¡

💤💤💤💤

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

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

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

UHM YES?!?!

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

Wet Dream 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

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

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

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

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

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

A glance at your phone read 11:06 PM.

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

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

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

Fwip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fwip.

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

“Can’t we jus’ watch E.T?” Crunch.

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

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

You weren't even lying.

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

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

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

“One word. Emmannuelle.” Crunch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can do this another time–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” Peter hummed, clearly unconvinced.

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

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

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

——————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter.. Ngaah- wai-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wake up..” heh?

"C’mon. Wake up!"

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

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

Oh. OH.

—--------------

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

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

It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue.

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

Good thing you did it before him then.

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

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

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

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

“Babe?” Peter called quietly into the dark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you began moving again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nghnaa- Peterr,” you whimpered.

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

Holy. Fuck.

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

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

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

Holy-

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

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

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

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

"Nice dream, princess?"

Ooh, he is gonna ruin you.

—-----------------------------

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

"What makes you think that?" You stuttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You belong to me.”

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

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

Peter came in his pants. Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Schweeeett.

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost,” you teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed to bring out the movie nights more often.

~~~~

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

Of course the whole team noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[doll3tt33]

╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ┆idk just existing┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 lives off of lana, c.ai, and the thought of kai anderson rearranging my insides

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - gimme ‘em gold coins! ❥ stan bowes

I’d be the prom queen if crying was a contest ❥ peter maximoff

when I’m down on my knees, you’re how I pray ❥ kai anderson

Requests are open! ♡

Please make sure to read the rules here before requesting!!! ((only for bots, not for fics

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker.

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

• if you want me to tag you when I post a bot or a bot of your fav character, then lemme know by commenting down below!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

#masterlist #c.ai #c.ai bot #c.ai chats #c.ai creator #character.ai #c.ai shenanigans #character ai bot #ai bots #ahs #american horror story #evan peters #ahs fandom #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #colin zabel #colin zabel x reader #stan bowes #stan bowes x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver #austin sommers #tate langdon

[devilgenics]

(Y/N), tending to Peter's wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Peter: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

#quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #xmen #xmen incorrect quotes #xmen x reader #xmen masterlist #x men x reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff

[evanslvr]

𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃:

(btw, i take requests| when you request ADD DETAILS)

𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨:

• 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙮 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

• 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙮 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙣:

• 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

• 𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 (𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

• 𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙏𝙒𝙊 (𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

• 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

𝙠𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧:

• 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣 (𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩)

• 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

• 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

𝙠𝙮𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧:

• 𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 (𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩)

𝙟𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙟𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝:

• 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 (𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏)

𝙧𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙝𝙖𝙣: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙠𝙖𝙞 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢 𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙩: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙟𝙚𝙛𝙛 𝙥𝙛𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙢𝙖𝙭 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧/𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙛𝙛: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙮: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙠𝙖: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙨: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙣 𝙯𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙡: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙭(𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙): 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙡𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧: 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙚

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨:

𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂|𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒(𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨:

• 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒|𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐒(𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄:𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒)

• 𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂|𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒(𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃)

• 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒|𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃)

▒▒▒

𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢:

•••

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

#evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #james patrick march #rory monahan #kai anderson #malcomgallant #jeff pfister #austin sommers #max cooperman #quicksilver #peter maximoff #ahs fanfic #masterlist #stan bowes #colin zabel #warren lipka #alex adult world

[layla4567]

~MASTERLIST~

i opened requests btw (sorry if it took me a while to answer them)

Marvel

Peter maximoff:

Imagine with quicksilver

One shot/ Peter maximoff

Imagine: a relaxing shower

You know what I mean

I'm not doing it

Nursing day

Loki:

Headcanons of Loki

Imagine with Loki

Headcanon: Loki as a dad

Nightmare

Headcanon: Loki notices that you are on you period

Celtic ballad

In the meadows

The waterfall

SFW alphabet

NSFW alphabet

I don't trust you

Plushie

Dance for me

You're being mean

Awful things to you

Shoot

The stars are closer

A merry christmas (lokius)

Mobius meet your child with loki (uncle mobius)

LOKI SERIES (OTHERS CHARACTERS)

Too close (Brad wolfe/Hunter X-5)

Scars (Brad Wolfe)

Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley:

Little imagine with Steven Grant

I'm just a librarian (on going)

headcanon: the boys with pets

Bucky:

Headcanons of Bucky

Adam Warlock:

Would you help me?

Adam Warlock headcanons

Drabble (wandavision AU)

Teach me

Namor:

A lullaby, a lotus flower and a cardinal

Evan Peters

Colin Zabel:

Magic night

Vaccines are good

Evan:

Lingerie

Birthday girl

The bear

Luca:

Working together

Will Poulter:

Behave well

Gotham

Jeremiah:

That's how the money works

Lewd pollen

Bruce Wayne

Let me take care of you

Star Wars

Cal Kestis:

May the force be with you

I'm right here

Are you afraid of the dark?

Mr. Tophat:

My Ballerina

Are you lost?

The hunger games

Coriolanus Snow:

Until the birds stop singing

One Piece Live Action

Opla boys with a short reader headcanon

Time for hugs (Luffy sfw drabble)

Sanji with a mechanic reader headcanon

The straw hats hearing your laugh for the first time

Sanji with a fem reader with long hair (headcanon)

The medical (sanji)

Me gustas tu (Luffy)

Until we meet again (Mihawk)

Sweet as peaches (Sanji fluff drabble)

Until we meet again pt2 (Mihawk)

A whole new world (Shanks)

A whole new world pt2 (Shanks)

The straw hat with a spanish speaker

Wild west au/ monster trio

Opla men with a spanish speaker pt2 (mihawk, buggy and shanks)

Sanji with a reader who loves to collect trinkets (headcanons)

Morning routine with Sanji

Take off the sails

Monster trio buying sanitary pads

Valentine's day is for fools

Until we meet again (final part)

Old men with a short reader (buggy, shanks and mihawk)

Halloween costumes with the straw hats

REQUESTS

Hot cocoa (Hunter D90-Loki series)

I'm right here (Cal Kestis-Star wars)

Dance for me (Loki-MCU)

My silly little man (Mobius-Loki series)

Visitors (Mobius)

Sanji with a rapunzel fem reader

Are you lost? (mr.tophat)

A little bit of mischief (D90 loki series)

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

#masterlist #marvel #one shot #imagine #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #female reader #x reader #smut #fluff #oneshot #masterlist post #masterlist update #masterlist help #masterlist dividers #masterlist navigation #my masterlist #my masterpost #my masterpiece #bucky barnes #loki odinson #evan peters #quicksilver #steven grant #marc spector #adam warlock #colin zabel

[local-crying-boy]

Pietro Maximoff Masterlist

Oldest to Newest:

New Years Eve Party / GN!Reader - One-shot, fluff

Mission Gone Wrong pt.1 / Fem!Reader - One-shot, angst

Mission Gone Wrong pt.2 / Fem!Reader - One-shot

Waking up with Pietro Maximoff / GN!Reader - drabble, fluff

Bodyguard Pietro Maximoff / GN!Reader - imagine

Kinktober 1-4 / Fem!Reader - Smut

Shakes and Shivers / GN!Reader - One-shot, fluff

Series:

Composure Masterlist / Female OC

#avengers #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #pietro #pietro fanfic #pietro marvel #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro fanfiction #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff fanfic #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff fanfiction #quicksilver #Pietro Maximoff masterlist #Masterlist #Fanfiction masterlist #fanfic masterlist #mcu fanfic masterlist #pietro mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction

[dominos-palast]

Masterlist

Mostly fluff and gn!reader.

Request: R

X-Men

Peter Maximoff

Pillow Replacement (gn!reader)

Kurt Wagner

Lessons on flirting (1/3) (fem!reader) R

Alice in Borderland

Shuntaro Chishiya

Not as useless as I seem (adhd!gn!reader)

Teach me some bad words (gn!reader)

#Masterlist #Alice in borderland #xmen #Xmen movies #Alice in borderland x gn!reader #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #aib #chishiya x reader #aib x reader #peter x reader #gn!reader #gnreader #gn reader #fem!reader #Kurt Wagner x fem!reader #Kurt Wagner x reader #quicksilver x reader #quicksilve x gn!reader #x gn!reader fluff

[lovelyylorelaii]

pietro maximoff

nothing yet

#masterlist #m.list #lorelai speaks #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #marvel #avengers

[theflowerrooms]

🌸fluff, 🤍smut, 🐇angst, 🩰dark themes

Oneshots:

Slow (Slight Dom!Peter x gen!reader, 🌸🤍)

Summary; after your date, Peter and you take advantage of some alone time at his house. Despite his usual speed, Peter takes pleasure in going unbelievably slow, teasing you until you can’t take it anymore.

Misc:

NSFW Alphabet (Peter Maximoff x Reader, 🤍)

Peter Maximoff from X-Men - MASTERLIST

#peter maximoff #quicksilver xmen x reader #xmen #xmcu #masterlist

[quickandsilvers]

Sick Day 🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT

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

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

Word count: 5083

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bag in question? Peter’s silver jacket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Found i- oh, hel-lo.” He whistled.

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

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

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

Fuck.

Your silver vibrator in his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #evan peters masterlist #james patrick march #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #xmen peter maximoff #xmen days of future past #xmen headcanon #xmen quicksilver #xmen apocalypse

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 8 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: this is going to be the second last chapter but my emotions are real.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa

Your eyes remained glued on your phone, as they have done for the most part these last three days.

All fixed on the "Read" underneath your message. You're not really sure what else you're expecting really. For him to respond to you after that shit show? You must have been out of your mind if you thought that Charles would ever want to speak to you again. If the roles were reversed, you'd have done the same thing. But he loved you, so surely this was worth talking through?

Here you were again, stuck between delusion and heart break. It's the only placed you'd been since Lewis slammed the taxi door in your face. And in a fucked up way, it's the only place that comforts you because facing the reality of your situation feels so much worse.

Your tragic trip down memory lane is interrupted by Whitney placing your McDonalds on your lap. It's been your forth one since you arrived at her apartment on Sunday evening, when you could no longer stare at the front door anxiously waiting for Lewis to come home.

"Have you heard from Lewis?" Whitney asks as if she's been reading your mind.

"No," your response is practically a grunt.

Whitney bites her bottom lip, hesitating for a moment before she asks her next question.

"Have you heard from Charles?"

"No".

She pauses again.

"Have yo-"

You interrupt her with a loud sigh and Whitney takes the hint to stop asking you questions that are any way related to the shit show of your life right now. Since you had arrived at her apartment four days ago, with a weekend bag and a stream of tears in tow, you'd barely spoken. Well, you'd barely spoken after you finally told Whitney everything. And that meant everything.

She'd poured you a large glass of wine (or two) when you began to explain the last twelve months of your life. From when yours and Lewis' relationship began to change, to your suspicions of Lewis sleeping with other women, to you confronting Lewis about working on your relationship, to Lewis' genius solution to your marriage woes by suggesting an open relationship, to Lewis taking full advantage of that arrange me before you finally had enough with your constant arguments with Lewis.

And then, on that infamous girls night out where you kissed Charles, and, unbeknownst to Whitney, you spent that night with him, then there was the Joris birthday party shenanigans, to Lewis' sudden awakening and the reconciliation of your marriage on the very same night of Joris' party. Then you somehow found yourself juggling both relationships seamlessly all up until your birthday when Charles whisked you a way for the best weekend of your life when you declared that you were falling in love with each other. And finally, a week later, Lewis was treating you to the most extravagant birthday yet until you found yourself at the dinner from hell where your both your marriage and your relationship fell to pieces.

Fuck, did this all really happen within the space of 12 months?

Whitney watched on as you spilled the truth on the chaos that was your life, through the tears and snot that streamed down your face. She didn't say anything, she just took in all of the information while filling up your glass with wine the second it became empty. She wasn't sure how to process all of this. There was just so much information to unpack and while she had some inclination that you weren't telling her certain things about your relationship with Lewis, she could have never imagined that this would be the situation.

And, Charles?

Yes, she knew that you had kissed him that night and yes, she teased you about it every now and again. But being in love with him? Having a full on relationship with him? Let's just say it wasn't on her 2023 bingo card. This was some soap-opera level shit.

But then she thought about it a little more, during your many hours of silence between the two of you in the last few days, that maybe there were some signs when it came to Charles. You'd always tensed up whenever she mentioned him. At first she thought it was the embarrassment from kissing him on that night out, and the fact that you regretted your actions since you were still so invested in your relationship with Lewis.

There was a couple of times when Whitney had suggested that the two of you meet with the guys for a few drinks but you'd always come up with an excuse. Actually, come to think of it, you'd only come up with an excuse when you realised that Charles would be present. Did a drunken kiss from months ago really upset you that much? she'd thought at the time.

But then Whitney thought about it a little bit more. It wasn't just you that had acted weird, it was Charles and Joris too. Charles' cheeks would always flush whenever your name was mentioned. And Joris would always look at Charles for a reaction. That was pretty innocent. Maybe Charles was just a little embarrassed about your kiss and Joris teased him about it too.

But then Whitney would remember the look on Charles' face whenever she'd turn up at the pre-arranged drinks on her own. She'd told the guys that you were at home or out with your husband and Charles just had this bizzare look on his face before spending the rest of the evening looking like a lost puppy and would spend most of the time on his phone. Wait, had he been texting you the whole time?

Despite him being single, she never saw him with other girls. He never seemed the faintest bit interested. And that always surprised Whitney as someone with who looked like Charles did definitely got a lot of attention. She'd seen it first hand the way girls would throw themselves at him. But he'd always shrug them off. He just wasn't interested.

There was that one time when Charles turned up completely out of the blue when the two of you were out with a couple of friends and Joris decided to tag along. Yourself and Charles had said hello and greeted each other with a polite hug but the two of you were just so awkward. For two adults in their mid to late twenties, it was almost comical the way the two of you acted around one another. Like a pair of school kids being forced to be around their secret crush.

Whitney had briefly noticed the lustful looks Charles had given you all evening. It was almost kind of weird the way he'd look at you, hoping to catch your attention, especially when he knew your were married. At one point, herself and Joris had to hold back their laughter when Charles so obviously glared at the random guy who had bought you a drink at the bar. It was all just an innocent crush, right? Come to think of it, the two of you did leave the bar in quick succession that night…

As for Joris, well Whitney had asked him about Charles a few times. Did he have any women on the go? Was he open to dating? But Joris just shrugged it off, said that Charles was a bit of an odd ball when it came to women. There was someone that he was really into but it was a touchy subject so they weren't allowed to bring it up. Turns out it was you that was the touchy subject.

As for spending time with Joris, he more often than not suggested for him to go to Whitney's place when they were hooking up. He'd made up some excuse that the guys were sick of hearing one another having sex and they kind of made a rule to keep sex at the flat strictly to nights of parties or when it was 100% sure that the other guys wouldn't be around. She never thought a group of guys would care about something like that but apparently it was a French thing. Or so Joris had said.

Whitney came to understand very quickly that it was all a cover up for you and Charles to spend time together. She'd called Joris yesterday to ask him what the fuck had been going on. He'd explained everything, or at least everything he knew. And when Whitney asked about how Charles was managing, the silence from Joris' end of the phone told her everything.

Whitney sighed, "He really loves her that much?"

"He does".

She felt sorry for Charles but she also felt sorry for you. Yes, you'd found yourself in this mess. And you had made so many mistakes from what she’d heard. But she firmly believed that none of this would have happened if it wasn't for Lewis and his stupid ego. Whitney felt validated in her dislike for Lewis. Yes, he was hot, rich, successful and apparently was great in bed but his personality was just so ... bland. There was just a surface layer to him, never any substance other than how what he showed on the outside. Behind the tattoos and the ridiculous fashion was an insecure man who only seemed to care about you when your attention was on somebody else.

She thought back to the time that Lewis proposed to you. After the wild sex and love bombing naturally died down and it was time for the two of you to to build a foundation, you'd started to get a bit irritated at the lack of effort from Lewis’s side. Your relationship with Lewis looked like it was running its course and so you had decided to go on a date with some guy just to test the waters, to see if there was a better guy for you out there. But that experiment had ended pretty quickly. As soon as you had started to date anyone else, Lewis was very quickly back in the picture and seemed more invested than ever. Whitney had expressed her concerns to you about his newfound interest but you ignored her, you were blind to whatever Lewis did. And so, Lewis locked in your attention for the long term by proposing just a few months later and that was that.

You had fallen for it and you fell for him even harder. And now, four years later, you had found yourself in the same cycle. This time with more catastrophic consequences. It seemed like your marriage was over, and sadly your relationship with Charles.

"Do you hate me?"

Whitney's head quickly turned in your direction. Your eyes were glued to the TV. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills had captured your attention and you were shoving a dozen McDonald's fries into your mouth. It's the first time you'd sparked up a conversation since taking refuge on her sofa a couple of days ago.

"What? No, I don't hate you," Whitney sighed. "Why are you asking me that?"

"I don't know," you mumble as you continue to be captivated by the tv screen. "I've been a pretty shitty friend. Lied to you for months and then coming running to you when it all goes tits up".

Whitney felt her stomach sink. "[Y/N], I could never hate you," she began. "Yes, I'm upset that you didn't tell me what was going on. You know me. Yes, I have my opinions and I know you don't always want to hear it but at the very least I would have never wanted you to go through this alone. I hate seeing you like this".

For the first time in a while, your eyes move away from the tv screen. and you're staring at the McDonalds that's in your lap. You're fighting to hold back the tears.

"I know. I should have told you. I was so scared that you'd judge me. I know you've never liked Lewis all that much," you stop to wipe your nose, "And this whole open marriage crap was doomed from the start but I really thought that if I said yes, he would see how much he really loved me and that I was willing to do anything for him”.

You fall silent. The only sound in the room coming from Lisa Rinna throwing a glass a table. That damn dinner in Amsterdam.

Don’t you ever go after my fucking husband.

Whitney isn't sure what to say, so she waits for you to continue.

"I want to hate him for this whole thing, you know. He was the one fucking other people first but we both made a promise that we would never hurt each other. I was always sure he'd be the one to hurt me but I'm the one that hurt him".

Whitney jumps out of her seat to console you and you let yourself sob in her arms. Hearing you speak about your relationship like this made her heart break. Maybe you weren't as blind to Lewis' behaviour as she thought.

"[Y/N], he has to take some of the responsibility in this. He stepped out on you first and he asked you to commit to something that you were uncomfortable with. He used your feelings for him against you," Whitney tells you. Her hand soothing your back. Your sobs become even louder.

"That's why I'm angry at him. He pushed me away and I fell in love with someone else because of it. But why do I feel so guilty?"

Whitney sighs, "Because you still want him to love you, like you always have".

Silence falls again for a few moments.

"[Y/N], do you still love Lewis?"

You nod. And then there’s silence again.

"Can I ask you something?"

You lift your head off her chest and look up at her. Your eyes red, skin all blotchy. You look so innocent and child-like in her arms. You don't answer her but your silence is enough of a yes for Whitney to ask you her next question.

"Who are you more sad about losing? Lewis or Charles?"

-

Not long after you had finished your conversation with Whitney, she had tucked you into her bed for some well needed rest.

Her heart ached for you and she felt guilty. Guilty that she had made her dislike for Lewis so apparent that you were too scared to tell her the true state of your relationship. The only thing she was grateful for was that Lewis hadn’t gotten you pregnant through out your relationship, it was the only way that this situation could be worse than it already was.

She was so angry and frustrated that it had gone so far. An open marriage, who the fuck does this guy think he is?, she had thought to herself. And he gets to act like he's the victim? This man had some serious audacity.

She secretly enjoyed the fact that Lewis felt so threatened by Charles that he made himself look like a right dick at your birthday. She'd have loved to have seen his face when the ball dropped and he realised that Charles, the man you loved, was just a metre or so away from him. Karma was a funny thing.

But the more Whitney got lost in the rabbit hole of finding new ways to find pleasure in Lewis' misery, the more she realised that whatever her feelings were towards Lewis or Charles or this entire series of unfortunate events, she couldn't let your heart break any more. If she couldn’t have prevented all of this mess from happening before, she was going to try and fix some of it for you.

And so, with your conversation from before at the front of her mind, she decided to send out a text.

Probably a bit of a surprise that this message is coming from me but I love [Y/N] more than anybody and I know you probably don’t want to see her right now.

I can’t imagine how angry and hurt you are but she never wanted this to happen. I can see how much she really loves you and I know that you love her too.

You two need to talk. You can’t fix this otherwise and you deserve that chance to fix your relationship.

I haven't seen her this bad in a very long time. Can you please come and talk to her? She's staying at mine.

And it turns out Whitney’s text worked. Not long after she got a response.

Sure, I can come by tonight?

And so he did.

Whitney didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as she opened the front door. The skin underneath his eyes were dark and it looked like he had spent the last few days crying, almost as much as you had been.

“Thanks for coming, I know it couldn’t have been easy coming here,” Whitney said. Her voice soft, whatever she was feeling, seeing him in person like this made her feel guilty. And she didn't even do anything wrong.

He just grunted in response.

“Come in,” Whitney said, stepping aside to allow him into the flat. “She’s just asleep at the moment but I thought it was important that you guys talk.”

He nods. “You said she’s been in a bad way?”

Whitney nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it hasn’t been this bad since her dad passed. Today was the first day that she’s properly spoken since she told me what happened when she arrived on Sunday”.

She pauses for a moment.

"She might smell of McDonalds when you see her though. It's all she's been willing to eat," her attempt at making a light-hearted joke doesn't clear the awkwardness in the room.

He’s just staring at the ground, hands shoved into his pockets. He doesn’t really want to be here, but somewhere deep down he believes he owes it to you. If Whitney was reaching out, it was definitely something worth listening to. Even if they didn't have much of a relationship.

“What did she say today?”

Whitney sighs softly, “I think it’s for her to say”.

He nods again.

“Can I see her?”

This time Whitney nods, “Sure. The bedroom is just the door on the right”.

He mumbles a thanks and heads down the short hallway. He takes a moment outside of the bedroom and Whitney watches his movements. He’s nervous as he takes a deep breath before stepping into the bedroom.

You feel the presence of somebody taking a seat on the bed beside you but you’re slow to respond. You assume it’s Whitney coming to check on you and so you just tell yourself to go back to sleep.

The person beside you stays still for a while. You can feel their eyes on you but you try not to let it disturb you. It’s the first time you’ve properly slept in days.

It’s a few minutes later before the person on the bed decides to lay down beside you, their body ever so close to yours.

You let out a groan. “Whitney, I love you but I don’t feel like spooning right now”.

You hear a dry chuckle beside you, like they’re forcing themselves to laugh.

“It’s not Whitney”.

Your eyes immediately open and you turn to face the person that’s in the bed beside you. The room is dark but you don't need to see him to know who it is. You know that voice so well.

“Charles,” you whisper.

You can’t believe that he’s here beside you and so you reach out to touch him to make sure that it’s really him here with you and not just a part of your dream.

He’s real. And he’s here beside you, letting your hand rest on his cheek as you search for his eyes in the darkness.

“What are you doing here?”

“Whitney messaged me. She said that you weren’t in a good place,” Charles responds.

“She messaged you?”

“Yeah, I was pretty surprised as we don't really speak much but she felt like we needed to talk”.

You smile softly. Grateful for your best friend but also grateful that Charles’ hasn’t decided to stomp on your heart. Or so he hasn’t yet.

“I’m surprised I’m here, to be honest. Joris would kill me if he knew I came to see you,” he chuckles but he doesn’t find it funny. He finds it painful actually to think of how much is best friend despises you. It wasn’t all your fault though, not in Charles’ eyes.

“When Joris had booked the Salt Bae restaurant for Saturday, I thought that the bill was going to be the most shocking thing that evening but I’d have paid for 50 of those ridiculous gold steaks if it meant I didn't have to sit through that dinner,” Charles continues. As the level of uncomfortableness rises in the room, your hand falls from his cheek and you find yourself wrapping you arms around your legs for comfort.

You don’t know what to say. Where do you even begin?

Charles fills the silence for you. “Lewis would have been pretty happy to buy 50 of those steaks the way he was splashing this cash that night,” Charles’ voice is laced in annoyance and disgust.

You cringe at the memory of Lewis’ over-the-top behaviour that night. But that’s not what leaves your mouth.

“It feels weird to hear you talking about him,” you whisper, you can’t believe this is the thing that you say out of all the things you could say. It just felt so strange hearing Charles mention Lewis by name.

Charles scoffs, “What? Your husband? I’m just amazed he didn’t end up bending you over the table and fucking you in front of me but he was definitely making a good go of it. I felt sorry for the couple who was at the table with you who had to hear that cringey naked chef story”.

His tone is getting angrier the more he speaks.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you can barely hear your own voice. You feel like a coward for not saying more but you honestly don't know how to get your words out. You can’t read the expression on Charles’ face because you can’t see him through the darkness. So you just let him do the talking.

“I’m just surprised that you’d be married to someone like that, you know. So obnoxious and so vulgar,” he spits, “acting like he’s got the biggest dick in the room. I wanted to punch his fucking face in".

You've never heard Charles speak like this before, with so much hatred and venom in his voice. It looks like Lewis' antics had gotten under his skin after all. You couldn't blame Charles for feeling this way though, Lewis did everything in his power to emasculate Charles that day.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you did," you whisper. You reach out for Charles in the dark, you hand resting on his arm. He tenses up a little but he doesn't pull away which reassures you that he can't hate you that much if he's letting you touch him.

"He's not worth it. What kind of a man is he anyway? Cheats on his wife for months and then throws the toys out of his pram when he finds someone who actually loves her for her," he huffs.

But it's those last few words that fill you wish some warmth and gives you the courage to ask Charles the following question, "Do you still love me, Charles?"

You feel him place a hand on top of yours in the dark.

"As much as everyone doesn't want me to, I can't stop loving you, [Y/N]," he responds. His voice is the softest it's been since he came into Whitney's room.

"Do you hate me?" God you've had to ask that question one too many times today.

"I don't hate you, amour. I hate that you married a guy like him. Yeah, he's good looking and rich or whatever but he's an asshole. You deserve so much better than that," he pauses his mini rant and takes a deep breath, "Look, I knew you were married when we first got involved so I've only got myself to blame. But since the night that we met, I haven't spent a day not thinking about you".

It sounds weird but Charles thinks that he can hear you smile in the dark.

"You just called me amour".

You can't keep the smile to yourself and a sense of relief washes over you at the sound of him calling you that special pet name.

"You'll always be my amour, even if you are married to a man with shitty tattoos," Charles grunts but the tension seems to leave his body and he pulls you towards him in dark, somehow pulling you into a hug and your head is resting on his chest.

"I'm so sorry Charles, I never wanted this to happen," you whisper. "You never deserved any of that. I thought I'd have lost you, especially when you hadn't responded".

Charles sighs, "I know. I just needed some time".

His fingers find their way into your hair and begins to lightly stroke you hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You just lay in each other's arms, taking in the smell and feeling of each other. You don't want to let you because if you do, you're so afraid that he'll come to his senses and run from you. But he doesn't seem to want to let go of you either, and you remain content in each other's arms.

Eventually, he breaks the silence.

"Have you spoken to him?"

You hesitate for a moment, but decide to tell him the truth, "No. He doesn't want to speak to me. After dinner, I got in the Uber and he didn't get in. And then he never came home. I messaged him when I got here to let him know I'd be here for the forseeable, so he can make sure that Roscoe is taken care of".

Charles hums as his response but he doesn't say much.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me," you're not sure why you've said this, especially to Charles of all people.

"He probably just hates himself," Charles is honest with his response. You look up at him in the dark.

"Really?"

"Maybe he hates you a little. But he I think he hates me the most," Charles chuckles. "But I don't mind though, he's the one that fucked himself. And if he wasn't so selfish, you wouldn't be here with me right you".

And in the dark, you feel Charles warm breath hit your face before his lips find yours. The kiss is gentle and neither of you really know what to do next. The both of you couldn't imagine you being in this place just a mere two hours ago. And so you savour the moment for what it is before the both of you slowly pull away from the kiss.

Charles' breath catches in his throat a little, as if he wants to say something but he doesn't. And so you stay in each others arms a little while longer.

You're not sure how much time has passed, you're pretty sure that the two of you fell into a light sleep at some point. But as you begin to stir in Charles' arms, he finally finds the courage to say what he's been holding in.

"I want to be with you, [Y/N]. But I need more than a half of you," he begins. He waits for some sort of response from you but all you manage is to sit up and look at him.

He lets out a little sigh. You're waiting for him to finish, almost as if you're waiting for him to tell you what to do. To tell you how you can fix this.

"I think we have a good chance at things but my first mistake was thinking that I could be okay with you being married. Even if he wasn’t entirely in the picture, he’s still there. And he won’t let you go without a fight. You know, I thought half of you would be better than all of you. But maybe I need to be more like Lewis and be selfish. And so, if you want us to work," he pauses, making sure that you're still fixated on him, “I need to know that things are over between you and Lewis".

All you can do is gulp as the consequences of your actions begin to sink in.

It was time to make a decision - Lewis or Charles? The longer you waited to make your choice, the more likely you’ll lose the both of them forever.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[verbenaa]

opus 4 (nothing compares to the sighs that fall from your lips)

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:

“Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?”

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.”

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𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, 18+

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 6.9k

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: exhibitionism, frottage/thigh riding, clothed sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, vampire bites, blood, soft dom astarion, tailor astarion strikes again

𝑎/𝑛: if larian can't give us a masquerade, then i will! welcome to my current fixation which has been this masquerade ball fic. idk there is no rhyme or reason to this, its just fun and indulgent and glittery. i hope you enjoy and please like/comment/reblog etc ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

ao3 here

masterlist

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The chandeliers twinkle brightly from the cavernous ceiling above as you float across the polished ballroom floor, slippered feet moving swiftly as your dance partner twirls you around, an arm wrapped tight around your waist while the other grasps your hand as he leads you through the elegant steps of a waltz. 

Wine burns through your veins as it sings a siren’s song, the sanguine liquid slipping down your throat with ease this evening, the vintage aged to perfection. Melted wax drips from the tapers decorating the room, their flames no more than whirls of shining light as you spin around and around, gown fluttering with every elegant movement.

It wasn’t often you attended these sorts of events, despite the amount of invitations you’ve received over the years. Being the most recent hero of Baldur’s Gate had its occasional perks it would seem, and this ball was certainly one of them. 

It was the same routine every time. You would open the frequently ostentation envelopes, perfect calligraphy written with expensive pots of colored ink on the front and oversized wax seals in golds and reds and blues on the back. Inevitably, after a passing glance at whatever solicitation lay inside you would feed it to your hearth, letting the fire gobble it up as it burns to black.

This particular invitation, however, had caught your eye. The envelope itself was nothing of particular elegance, though the black of the envelope and silver lettering did stand out among the others in your post box that day. The matching silver wax seal on the back opened easily with a quick flick of your letter opener, and a singular word on the thick vellum piqued your interest in a way that few ever did on these inane things.

Masquerade.

You can easily recall the way the word made your heart jump, mind moving to the imagined scenarios of your younger years, the adventures of storybook heroines always featuring stories of flowing gowns and glittering masks.

Your own gown flows around your form as you dance the steps, soft fabric laying perfectly against your curves as braided straps of silk rest over your shoulders. The skirt flows down around a high slit up the thigh, velvet the color of the deepest ivy brushing against the marbled floors with every movement. 

The metallic threads glow in the candlelight, embroidered designs of liquid silver cascade in small clusters down the bodice and onto the skirt like little groups of stars falling from the sky. The low back of the dress leaves you uncharacteristically bare, almost everything above the line of your waist exposed, though the air is warm against your skin with all the bodies present this evening.

Your dance partner cuts a dashing figure, a vision of velvet and quicksilver in his own right. He looked made for the part—like some dark hero from a storybook come to life in front of your eyes.

Gods, he looked so handsome. 

Your cheeks flush as you watch him, following his lead as his hands tighten around you, that familiar knowing smirk decorating his elegant features even with the dark mask he wears obscuring the top half of his features, claret eyes framed with black and silver.

You pull yourself closer to Astarion, filling your senses with his familiar and comforting scent as he continues to lead you through the steps with sleek perfection, footsteps confident and head held high under his disguise.

The dance ends, orchestra moving on from the dreamy waltz you had just turned about to on the floor, a lilting concerto taking its place after a brief respite. Astarion leads you to the side of the dance floor, a hand poised on your waist as you walk to the fringes of the room. 

You touch his velvet-covered shoulder, the intricately embroidered doublet matching the color of your own gown to perfection, down the same argent threads. The two of you were certainly coordinated this evening, if nothing else.

It had taken little to convince Astarion to agree to join you, his own love for overdramatic and lavish debauchery too much to deny something like a masquerade ball. He had certainly wasted no time designing outfits for the two of you, spending extra moments throughout his evenings constructing and embroidering them until every detail was as perfect as he had envisioned.

“Astarion!” You whisper into a delicately pointed ear, an emerald earring glinting in the candlelight as you rest your hand on his bicep, leaning your weight into him. “Go get us more wine!”

“You absolute lush.” His smile is fond as he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, careful not to disturb the delicate lace mask resting over your eyes, satiny ribbon tied behind your head in a pretty, perfect bow.

It was hard to deny his comment, especially when there was that delightful fuzziness that occupied your every sense, clouding everything in a wonderfully warm haze. You had easily lost track of the number of glasses you had imbibed over the evening, though you are fairly certain you simply misplaced some still half full goblets on the random trays of servers who wandered through the space.

Your thoughts swirl as he walks away from you in search of more spirits, his retreating figure a vision. He really was too handsome, dressed in his finery like this. Maybe you were wrong all these years to give your regrets to so many an occasion, if seeing Astarion dressed in the rich velvets and silks he deserved to wear was to be your prize.

A hand on your shoulder draws your attention, and you turn a moment later, reactions slowed by the alcohol still dancing in your veins. Behind you is a man, handsome enough—if only in a rather ordinary way—his warm brown eyes looking out at you from behind a mask of bright crimson as he gives you a friendly smile.

“I must ask how such a lovely gem such as yourself is simply wandering around alone on a night like this?” The words are meant to be suave and charming, though you ignore them, as uninterested in the man now standing before as you are in his words or the meaning behind them. Your eyes draw instead to a overflowing vase of flowers on a table behind him, a downright gaudy display of cultivated blooms bursting from an equally ostentatious vase.

“Do you happen to know what type of flowers those are behind you?” You point at them, not addressing the man’s prior words to you. He turns to look behind him with befuddlement, taking in the large arrangement with barely a blink of his eyes before he turns back, scanning up and down your velvet-clad figure.

“I’m afraid flowers aren’t my specialty.” His answer is short and no-nonsense, he was clearly a man uninspired and uncreative if that was the best he could come up with, the roll of your eyes mostly obscured by the lace covering your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you before, may I ask your name?” He sidles ever a bit closer, and you take a measured step back in response as you cross your arms casually in front of you, head tilting to the side as you observe him.

“How could you know? We are masked, after all.”

“It would be my honor, my dear mysterious Lady, to have your next dance?” His words are polite, even with such blunt forwardness. 

You are saved from having to answer by an arm wrapping around your waist from behind, that wonderfully delicious scent of bergamot and brandy filling your senses with his presence.

The man across from you looks affronted at Astarion’s arrival, eyes falling to the arm wrapped tightly around your body and the angular face pressing against the crown of your head.

“Darling, won’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

“Oh! My love, you’ve returned!” Your smile is beatific as you turn towards him, eyes meeting his own you look for your promised goblet of wine.

“You never mentioned you were…partnered.” The man—what was his name again?—says before you two, a frown etched onto his features. 

“Well, you never asked. This is my—” Astarion cuts you off before you can finish.

“Husband.” There’s a prideful possessiveness to his words that strike your interest, though you fight the urge to roll your eyes all the same. You and Astarion may be life partners, but married you were not.

“Here you are, my sweet.” He holds the full goblet towards you as it dangles between his elegant fingers, wine threatening to spill from its silvered edges. “Now, let us continue our fête elsewhere, hm?”

You give the man a bored look before turning away, downing your wine quickly before moving to place the empty silver on the table behind him, the overlarge bouquet towering over you. Without a second glance, Astarion takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back before stepping away with you into the crowd beyond.

He leads you to a secluded corner, the area obscured by the shadows of the lofty space. Astarion’s footsteps finally slow as you near the wall and he notices your raised brow, an expectant expression on your face.

“Married, Astarion? When exactly was our wedding day, just so I don’t forget the anniversary.” You speak wryly, an amused smile on your lips. “I’d hate to not get you a gift.” 

“Well, we may as well be married. Don’t you agree?” 

“I certainly don’t see a ring on my finger.” You make to look at your hand, a playful smile old your lips as you tease him. Astarion’s frown deepens, a look of childish petulance crosses his features, obvious even with the mask hiding his expressive eyebrows.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous that another man was simply talking to me?”

“Darling, I think he would have done more than simply talk to you if you’d let him,” He rolls his eyes, exhaling a huff as his hands come to rest above the swell of your hips, bracketing your waist with those talented, nimble fingers.

“Besides, he wasn’t talking, he was flirting with you.” You could swear he was pouting, amusement building with every passing minute as you bite your lip to hide your growing smile.

“I hadn’t noticed, honestly.” Your shrug is a touch too put on, the casualness of the action at odds with the finery you wear as the smile you try to hide escapes, painting your features with a certain cunning that Astarion knows all too well.

“Oh, I think you knew exactly what you were doing, darling, letting that man flirt with you.” Astarion’s hands on your velvet covered waist tighten as he walks you backward, not stopping until your back meets the intricately wainscoted wall, the two of you partially obscured by the heavy drapery of a nearby balcony.

“You’re far too smart, my sweet, to be so unaware.” The rest of ball swirls on obliviously around you both, dizzying in its opulence as music from the orchestra begins its climb to a rousing crescendo.

A coy smirk is the only answer you give him, the incline of your head daring him to continue as the lace covering your eyes only adds to your mystique tonight. The wine running through your veins turns your body hot, your confidence brimming with the help of the alcohol.

“And so what if I did, Astarion?” His ornate mask does little to hide the spark flaring to life in his crimson irises, thumbs tracing circles dangerously high on your ribcage as he steps closer into your space, the flowing skirt of your gown brushing against his own finery as he pushes close.

“Then I suppose you leave me no choice but to give you a little lesson, dearest.” 

One of the hands at your waist skates up, passing over your breast before brushing up the column of your neck, hand wrapping lightly around your throat as you lean your head up to look at him. His fingers brush over leftover scars from feedings past, and the sudden pressure on your throat has your body on high alert, heat licking at the bottom of your belly as you inhale a shaky breath.

Astarion’s mouth crashes down onto yours, stealing your breath as he kisses you with abandon. You answer his kiss with your own hunger, opening your lips to welcome his tongue. Your free hand comes up to brush against his chest, fingers tightening in the fabric to pull his body closer as your lips and tongue move against his own.

Your back is pressed hard against the wall behind you, the molded wood cool as Astarion crowds you, his chest pushed tight against your breasts. You widen your legs slightly and he quickly fills the space, a covered thigh coming to rest in between the slight spread of your own.

Astarion’s lips move to your jaw, your head tilting for him as the hand on your neck gives one last squeeze before brushing down your side until it finds your hip. The thigh between your legs presses in harder, and you thank the Gods that Astarion had the wherewithal to design a gown with such a high slit as you feel the fabric of his pants against your bare skin of your upper thigh.

The hand on your hip pushes you slightly forward and your covered center makes contact, the hard muscles of his leg rubbing deliciously against your core. You choke on a moan, and you can feel his smirk against your skin as his lips caress that spot behind your ear you love so much. 

“Do you think you can do it? Ride my thigh with all these people milling about?” His words are spoken low into your ear as your eyes fall shut at the tone of his voice, the devious lust that permeates every word sending a shiver through your body.

You bite your lip as you tug him closer, burying your face into his neck. You move your hips, starting with a slow movement, barely enough to provide any relief. But you feel it, all the same, cheeks flaming as you focus on Astarion and his leg, the alcohol drowning out the noise of the rest of the ball around you. 

What must you look like, you wonder, to anyone who happens to look on? You hope that the image of you together is only that of a pair of lovers embracing closely, too lost in their own world to care about anything else.

You can feel your wetness growing with every pass over his thigh as your hips undulate in soft motions, Astarion’s body pressed as close as possible to your own, shielding you with his form as much as he can from your place in the shadows. 

The feeling is wonderful, enticing in such a public arena, but it is far from enough. Your arousal grows, the dampness seeping through your underwear and onto the dark velvet of his pants as his cock twitches against you, his length hard as it strains against the fabric.

You feel his hand come down from your waist to brush against the slit where it falls against your thigh, his fingers tracing up and down your skin in teasing passes.

Those fingers slide inside the skirt of your gown, grazing the outside of your thigh as they make their way towards your ass. Your skin is hot where his cool fingers touch, a blazing line of heat marking every movement they make as he caresses the flesh barely hidden by your underwear.

“How wet are you, darling?” His words are sinful as he whispers them in your ear, hand easing under the line of your panties to rub against your bottom, his fingers creeping ever closer to the place where your aching cunt connects with his leg. 

“Astarion,” You whine in his ear, hand gripping the collar of his doublet. “Please.”

You don’t even know what you are begging for, but as Astarion’s fingers finally find your wetness you are unable to conceal the moan that falls from your lips. His fingers move, just enough to gather evidence of your arousal on his fingertips. 

“Oh, you sweet thing. You like this, don’t you?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as his hand trails away from the center of you, brushing back past your underwear and out of your gown. He brings the fingertips up to press against his lips, tongue sneaking out to lick at the slight sheen that coats them. 

Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your breathing hard as your eyes trace his features.

Astarion’s hand covers your own where it grips at his collar as his other adjusts himself in his pants, hiding his erection as best he can from sight. He pulls away from you, helping you adjust your dress with quick fingers. Your eyes catch upon the sight of your arousal on his pants, catching the light as he turns. You cheeks burn at the sight, your swallow audible.

“Follow me, love.” You don’t question him on where he is heading as he makes a line for the closest set of ballroom doors, pace quick as he weaves the both of you through the sea of bodies that make up the cities’ finest members of society. 

“Are we going home?” You whisper quietly as you follow, unsure if you were ready to commit the incandescent aura of the evening to memory alone quite yet.

It had taken hours to get ready, time spent bathing together before pampering each other—applying scented oils on skin and through hair, Astarion helping you pin your hair into its complicated updo this evening taking almost an hour alone, his fingers applying the rouge to your cheeks and lips with care as he admired your features with the utmost affection. No, you certainly weren’t ready to leave quite yet.

“It would be a shame to end the evening so early, don’t you think?” Relief and joy spills through you in equal measure at his words, eager to continue tonight’s festivities, whatever they may be.

You walk through the main hall, hand in hand with Astarion, the wine still buzzing in your head as he draws you up the large, elegant staircase of swirling marble. Your presence goes unnoticed as you pass others dressed in their own finery, shimmers of glitters and gems, silks and tulles flowing past as you climb step after step.

You make it up the rise of the large staircase, skirt twirling as you spin around momentarily to take in the scene of the party now beneath you. Its a world of luster that takes your breath away, everything filtered with the heady glow from the candelabras and wine flowing aplenty. 

With a tug on your hand, Astarion leads you away from the center of the room, breaking off to go down a smaller corridor to the side before cutting aside on one or two more until you are isolated, the noise of the orchestra below now faraway and faint.

The hallway feels hushed and hidden away, safe from the prying eyes of society as the candlelight sconces adorning the walls flicker, dancing fragment of light illuminating the narrow corridor. Astarion walks you back with hands on your waist until you feel the half-paneled wall against your uncovered back, the wallpaper ornate with scrolling vines and berries, vibrant reds and greens contrasting against the darkness of your gown. 

Astarion’s head bends to your chest, pressing a tender kiss onto the swell of your breast, over the place your heart beats in three-quarter time.

“Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?” 

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer to your breasts as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.” His nose nuzzles at the flesh of your breast, breathing in your scent as he groans against you, pressing his hips against your own so you can feel the evidence of his prominent erection.

Astarion bites down into the flesh of your breast that rises above your gown without warning, fangs piercing the tender skin that heaves with your breath as he drinks in the sweetness of your blood. It flows thick in brightly colored streams, a surprised moan ripping from your lips at the sudden action.

He sucks from the swell above your gown, blood dripping to stain the bodice as he licks and tastes the rich claret of you made all the sweeter from the wine, his hand drawing down your belly before dipping lower. 

He finds that slit on your thigh, hand working its way underneath before moving to cup around your wetness as you cover your mouth with your hand, hiding your moans behind a palm as your eyes flutter shut.

Astarion moans at the dampness he finds there, fingers quick to push aside the gusset of your underwear to run his fingers through your slick folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, spreading your wetness up and down the expanse of your center. You can feel his erection pressing against you, still hidden by his pants as he relishes your body’s reaction to his actions, lips still licking and sucking at the skin of your breast.

The fingers at your core move to rub your clit, the light pressure a relief as you bite your bottom lip to keep quiet, eyes glancing to the side quickly before closing once more to indulge in the feeling, his mouth not letting up as he savors your lifeblood.

“Astarion, what if someone sees us?” Nerves make their way into your soft voice, barely a whisper as your body tenses slightly with unease at the prospect of being seen by another. Astarion’s head lifts away from your breast, fangs leaving twin pinpricks on your chest, blood pulsing from the wounds in time with your heart as his eyes draw up to your own.

“No one will recognize us, my dear.” A finger circles your entrance, and your knees threaten to buckle under the pleasure. “Though we can stop if you want to.”

You hesitate and Astarion’s fingers pause to give you time to think, his mouth still drinking from the blood leaking from your breast, tongue licking at any stray drops.

“No,” You shake your head, needing little time to ruminate on the decision. “Please, don’t stop.” You let the desperation you feel run into your hushed voice as you give him your consent to continue, your hands in his hair brushing through the strands as you buck your hips into his hand.

“Thank the Gods.” His finger pushes in, working its way into you with sinfully slow movements, your head hitting the wall behind you as you let out a hiss at the feeling. You can hear your wetness as his finger dives deep, the sound of it obscene in the otherwise silent hallway.

“Gods, you’re so wet,” He kisses against your collar bone, nuzzling into the skin there as he breathes in your scent. “Who knew you were such an exhibitionist? Absolutely filthy of you, sweetheart.”

You whine at his words, Astarion coaxing more quiet moans from your lips as his finger pumps deep inside you. His free hand trails up to your shoulder, pushing off the delicate strap of your gown before moving down to pull at your bodice. 

Taking care not to rip the velvet, Astarion succeeds in freeing the breast he had fed on, hand coming up to weigh it in a palm as his mouth licks at the exposed nipple. 

He sucks on the hardened peak as his finger pulls out of you only to be joined by a second a moment later, the stretch barely noticeable with your wetness aiding his smooth thrusts in and out of your cunt.

His fingers curl against your walls as his tongue licks at your nipple, laving the peak as he finds that special place, deep inside your body and presses into it.

He’s relentless as his mouth works your breast and his beautiful fingers fuck you, his other hand squeezing the breast still covered, fingers working underneath the fabric to brush at the nipple.

It would be so easy to come like this, a fact Astarion does not miss as he can feel your body’s reaction, the telltale tension building inside you. Slowly his fingers leave your heat, brushing up against your clit with slippery motions as you whimper at the loss of them. He presses one last kiss to the tip of your breast, still wet with his lingering saliva, before he lowers to his knees in front of you.

“Astarion, what are you doing?” Your words are breathless as your hands run through his hair, the mask on his face slightly askew.

“I still seem to be a bit peckish still, though for a slightly different taste.” Warmth rushes to your cheeks as they flush, the alcohol still floating through your body painting everything in that same warm haze that has surrounded you through the night.

Astarion’s hands glide up your legs, brushing over soft thighs as he grabs at either side of the underwear where it rests low across your hips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pulls it down, guiding the thin, lacy fabric down your legs. He’s unhurried, clearly not worried about being caught or seen as he takes his time while his eyes never leave yours. He steadies you as you step out of the panties, pocketing the damp lace with a roguish smirk and raise of his brows.

His hand wraps around your thigh, pushing it up and pinning it against the wallpaper as he holds you open to his gaze. Your pussy is absolutely dripping for him, the sight of his otherworldly beauty as he stares at the center of you, open for him, takes the breath from your lungs.

There would be no mistaking what was happening if someone were to come upon you now—Astarion kneeling before you, supplicant, as he bares you to himself—unmistakable to anyone gifted with eyesight.

Astarion leans in to press a kiss to the thigh he has pinned, lips moving across the smooth skin with the lightest of touches before skipping over your weeping core to kiss the opposite thigh. You whine at the blatant misdirection of his mouth, hips bucking in indignation with as much motion as you can manage.

“Oh, I’m sorry—did you want something, darling?” He moves his face away from your body to shoot a look upwards, his features smug as he sees the abject desire in your gaze tempering the glare you shoot down at him.

“I thought you were still hungry, dearest.” You keep your words sweet, not letting the aching want you feel bleed into your voice as your eyes narrow. 

“Patience, sweet thing. I’m sure I’ve taught you about it once or twice before, have I not?” His head dips forward once more, breathing in the scent of your essence with a performative sigh. “Now, ask nicely. And do use your words and tell me what you want.”

“Astarion!” You start, exasperation building as you contemplate the words to say to appease him. He could be so demanding at times like this, a trait you found yourself caught between loving and hating in equal measure, though ‘loving’ did usually win out in the end.

You briefly debate making him wait for your words, watching his own impatience grow as you play coy, but this certainly isn’t the time or place for what could be a long, drawn out battle of wills on who would break first.

“Fine. Pretty please, Astarion, will you do me the honor of licking my cunt until I come? Preferably before we get caught?” Your frustration mounts as you say the words though you find the strength to keep your tone as breezy and unaffected as his own, despite the slight embarrassment beginning to creep in as the elusive power of the wine fades ever so slowly with every minute that passes.

Astarion grants you your wish with a wide, feline smile, licking a stripe up the center of you, his tongue running through your folds before brushing lightly against your clit as he savors the taste of you.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His tongue laps at your folds, taking his time to move up and down in languid strokes, never focusing on any one place. It’s a maddening feeling, a whine slipping from your throat as your hips roll, asking for more.

His tongue dips into your entrance, whorling around the opening as he tastes you, his moan against your cunt matching the one that leaves your mouth. Your hands tighten in his hair, hips writhing as his tongue thrusts inside you.

Astarion is eager to taste your essence, tongue flicking deep in your waiting wetness as hushed cries fall from your lips with every brush against your walls. You could sob from the feeling of the lightning hot pleasure that works through your body in time with every push of his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved, his mouth moving against your entrance as he works to plunge you closer towards ecstasy.

His motions are fast-paced, quicker than normal as he works to bring you to your peak, and you whine once more when he tongue leaves to lave at your folds instead. Two fingers are quick to replace his tongue inside you as he circles your clit instead, flicking the pearl simultaneously with perfectly timed thrusts of his fingers, curling up into that special spot.

“You really are so good when you set your mind to it, love.”

Your pleasure ratchets higher, a tremor running through your body as the leg supporting you grows weak with your impending orgasm, muscles in your thigh shaking slightly.

“Astarion, please don’t stop,” Your begging only serves to spur him on, tongue moving faster and his fingers curling faster with a repetitive motion that has your body tightening around him.

“That’s it, darling, come for me.” Astarion’s words are reverent, and you embrace them as you hurtle over the edge, euphoria rushing through your body, the feeling enhanced by the leftover wine as your fingers grip tight in his hair.

You come on his fingers and tongue, Astarion working you through the waves of your completion as they flow through your body, your cunt spasming tight as his tongue doesn’t stop licking at your clit. You bite the flesh of your lip, the delicate skin splitting under your teeth as you keep the sounds of your orgasm at bay, tiny dots of red spilling over your lips.

You uncurl your fingers from his hair, smoothing out the curls as your breathing evens out and your orgasm leaves you in a sense of pleasant euphoria. Astarion presses soft kisses against the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers finally slow inside of you before pulling out. He places one last kiss to your entrance, licking up the remnants of your come before he leans back and places your leg back down onto the ground.

He rises from the floor with a graceful motion, hands skating up your curves as his mouth crashes against your own. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he kisses you, the flavor of your own blood and come dizzying. 

Astarion licks at the blood on your lip, sucking on the mark as it bleeds. You open your mouth to him, his tongue tangling with your own as he deepens the kiss. Your hands work in a frenzy with his own to loosen his pants, the button finally coming free in your rush to free his cock from the confines of his clothing.

Astarion pulls his hardness from his underwear and you pump him, the velvety feel of his shaft warmer than normal as your blood courses through his veins. He moans into your mouth, hips pressing closer to you as you work his cock up and down, his precome shining in the light of the sconces as you spread the fluid on the heat of him.

His hands move down from your hips, brushing over your bottom as he grasps under the curve of your rear, squeezing.

“Up.” You are quick to obey, eager to feel him inside you as you jump up, Astarion catching you as his hips pin you in place against the wall, his hands supporting your weight in a tight hold against your ass. 

The half paneling of the wall presses into your back as you push your dress out of the way, the skirt easily parting around the slit as you guide his cock to your waiting cunt, still wet with your come. Astarion stares at your mouth as you lick at the precome that coats your fingers, pupils blown wide as you take a finger into your mouth and suck.

“Like the taste, darling?” Astarion’s erection finds your entrance, your wetness coating the crown of his cock as he bucks in shallowly, the head barely pressing inside you.

“Always. I think I’d like to have a little more.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you roll your hips against his cock, taking him slightly deeper inside your waiting warmth as you lick at his lips.

Astarion lets out a low growl as he pushes inside you in a single thrust, gliding home as hips meet your own. You both moan at the feeling of him inside you, the satisfaction of Astarion finally filling you euphoric as you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Did you design this dress thinking about how you would fuck me in it?” Astarion sets a steady pace as he moves his hips, your own meeting his thrusts as best as you can with such a limited range of motion.

“Of course I did,” He licks at the blood drying on your lip. “I thought about how beautiful you would look coming on my cock wearing it, too.” 

He pumps his cock harder, hips rutting against your own as your arms around his neck tighten, bringing him ever closer to you. Your lips meet once more, pressing against one another’s to silence the noises of pleasure breaking from your throats with every thrust. 

“No one can make you come like I can, can they?.” His words come on an quiet exhale of exertion, tinged with the smallest bit os what sounds like possession, his lips brushing against your own with each syllable that leaves his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous, Astarion?” You can still feel the leftover fog from your orgasm, hands playing the hair at the nape of his neck, the strands soft against your fingers as you try catch your breath in vain, every thrust of his cock making it harder and harder to breathe.

“I want to hear you to say it.” The hands on your ass squeeze, cock hammering harder into your center. “Say: ‘No one can fuck me like you’.”

There’s a familiarity to the veiled desperation in voice, though its been years since you’ve heard it. You would know the sound of it anywhere, the cadence of his longing to be wanted and loved and cared for burned into your mind for eternity, settling there like a haze over your vision.

Your heart grows tender at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, pressing a kiss to his lips before giving him the words you know he needs to hear from your rouged lips.

“No one can make me come like you,” A kiss to the tip of his nose where his face rests close to your own. 

“No one can fuck me like you,” A kiss to one cheek, then the other. 

“There is no one for me but you, Astarion. Only you.” Finally, his lips—your love and passion pouring out onto him with the simple press of your lips against his, a hand coming to brush his cheek.

“Gods, I love you.” His thrusts grow sloppy as he grips your hips harder, mouth falling open against your own as his pleasure builds.

“I love you too.” You lips part with the tilt of your head backwards as Astarion hits a particularly deep place inside you, fingers curling hard into the fabric covering his shoulders. He thrusts faster, making sure to hit against the same spot on every push forward.

Astarion’s hand sneaks from behind you to press against your clit, rubbing quick circles as his thrusts grow frenzied, losing their rhythm as he chases his impending high, intent to bring you with him over the edge.

“Will you come inside me? I want to feel you.” You press a kiss onto the shell of his ears as you whisper the words, your tongue darting out to tease at the sensitive skin of the elegant point.

“Is that what you want, darling? My come?” His hips stutter at your words spoken so intimately as you clutch at him, the warmth of your cunt drawing him closer and closer to his peak.

“Gods, yes. Please!” You aren’t afraid to beg as his fingers strum fast on your clit as his thrusts hit deep, your vision clouding over as another orgasm nears.

“Then take it, love.” Astarion buries his face into your neck as he comes, hot spurts of his spend spilling deep inside your body as you ride him through his completion. The feeling of him coming is exhilarating, and his fingers don’t stop until you crest over with him, the contractions of your cunt drawing him in tight as you take all you can of him as he hides his moans into your skin.

You roll your hips on his still hard cock as you work yourself through your orgasm, Astarion still pumping his own shallowly inside you as he comes down, breath hot against your neck. 

Slowly, the world settles back down, both you coming back to yourselves from where you stand against the wall, breathing slowing. 

Astarion’s cock is soft as he pulls from you, his come sliding out with it to make a mess onto your thighs. Astarion watches as his come collects at your entrance, the fingers on your clit moving downwards to push it back inside you with a gentle motion.

“Waste not, want not, my love.” Astarion’s finger curls one last time to press against your walls as you squirm, your body overly sensitive in the aftermath of your orgasm.

He presses a kiss to your forehead before removing his finger, moving his hands to help you stand back on the floor with steady feet. 

He pulls your panties out of his pocket, bending down onto a knee as he helps you back into them, gently lifting one ankle after the other as you still catch your breath, before he raises the ruined lace back up your legs.

He adjusts the skirt of your gown, making sure the velvet falls perfectly before he presses a soft kiss to your covered stomach. He rises, fingers tracing your form as he does, dragging the long forgotten silk shoulder strap back where it belongs as you work your breast back into the bodice.

“Astarion.” You touch at his cheek, capturing his attention as he looks back at you. His gaze is clear as his eyes meet your own, the beautiful crimson red of them soft as he searches your face.

“You really are the only one, Astarion. You are the only one I will ever love, until my dying breath. There will never be anyone else.” You watch as your words settle over him like a balm, the love you feel radiating into him as he accepts them into his own heart.

His features soften even as he scoffs at your words, his hand coming up to cover your own on his face despite himself.

“Oh, I know. Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it.” You let him lie, willing to let him keep this facade in tact.

“I’ll say it as many times as you wish.” Astarion’s hand takes your own where it rests on his face, pressing a kiss into the palm before lowering your joined hands.

“I’ll be sure to let you know, darling.” Astarion adjusts his own finery, settling the velvet back to rights as his eyes draw to the bodice of your ruined gown.

“Did you account for potential bloodshed when you designed the dress too?” You remark as you eyes follow his own line of sight, looking down at the blood staining the velvet dark with wet, sticky blotches. 

“Let’s just be thankful that blood and wine look similar.” 

“Nothing we can do about that bite mark though.” You sigh as you attempt to pull up the neckline slightly higher to no avail.

“Everyone will simply have to be left to wonder, then, won’t they?” Astarion bends down to press a fluttering kiss over the marks decorating your chest, squeezing your hand.

“Think you have another dance in you?” You squeeze at his hand back in response.

“I suppose we still have a few more hours before sunrise to wile away.” Astarion walks, gently pulling you after him as the pair of you make your way back to the glittering ballroom below. “Let’s go have some more fun.”

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #my writing #love u all thanks for reading kisses

[layla4567]

i'M NOT DOING IT

Evan's quicksilver x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now Rogue was looking at me with interest.

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

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

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

Then I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV

"Hey!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello ladies, what are you doing?"

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

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

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

Peter chuckled

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

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

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

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

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

"How nosy you are, my dear"

"And so you love me"-he winked

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

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

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

"Fine, spit it out"

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

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

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

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

"But you said you would join!"

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

"Peter Maximoff!!"-I exclaimed angrily

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

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

"How immature you are"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey babe, what's up?

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

"Aww, do you need me so fast?"

I could feel Peter smile through the phone

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How boring.."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bold of you to say you're pretty"

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

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

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

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

"You were right, this is more fun"

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

"I hate you"-I said controlling my gasps

"I know"

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

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

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

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

"And you are divine too!"

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

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

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

"Wow.."

Anna who came behind me smiled broadly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nope"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The winner can claim his prize"

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

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

"For you"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or what?"-I smiled mischievously

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not bad up there, huh?"

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

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

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

"I say it for myself, obviously"

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

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

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

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

"Mmh sure, why not"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's just…it's my first time"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck peter"-I gasped

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

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

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

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

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

"Probably, it bothers you?"

"Not at all"

#marvel #one shot #imagine #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu #x reader #female reader #drabble #fluff #masterlist #txt smut #fem reader #x men smut #evan peters smut #pietro x y/n #pietro x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff #magneto #pietro maximoff #x men days of future past #evan peters characters #evan peters #evan peters x reader #x you #x female reader #smut #fluff fluff fluff #svt fluff

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

A/N: It took me some time, but here we go again. Chapter Seven, my friends. Just something stupid, fun.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: It's a fun night out at a bar.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 3300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Six

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection. When was the last time she dressed up and put on make-up? She couldn’t recognise herself in the mirror. Since she came to the school, she would wear simple outfits and almost any make-up. Tonight, she wanted to look nice and make an impression on the people. Hell, she desired to catch Logan’s eyes. Honestly, she would catch his eyes even without all those things.

White blouse, dark blue jeans, black combat boots and a black leather jacket - this was her style. She put her hair into a high ponytail. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at herself in the mirror. It felt like lifetimes since she felt this confident and sexy. Damn, even the drawn cat-eye looked good. 

She winked at herself in the mirror and then glanced at her phone. Yes, they’d given her a phone. It was time to head out. She put it into the back pocket of her jeans. Before leaving, she had to check herself one more time just to be sure everything was perfect. 

To her surprise, she didn’t see any familiar faces. Usually, the students would walk around the school at this hour and hang out. Some noises came from the kitchen or the TV room. She didn’t recognise JJ’s voice. Maybe he was in his room.

Y/N made a mental note to spend more time with the boy. She didn’t keep her promise when she told him she’d come to him before the accident happened. 

“Well, look at you,” said a voice beside her. 

Y/N jumped, gasping. She was ready to hit the man in his face. “Jesus, Peter,” she glared at him. “You scared me, you ass,” she punched him in the shoulder. He could have easily dodged it, but he decided to not use his ability and laughed it off. 

“You get scared easily, Y/N. You should work on that,” he winked at her. “Can I walk with you?” he raised a brow. 

“You already are, so why ask?” she grinned at him. 

They walked out of the school and headed to the main entrance gate. Peter kept his hands behind his back. He had silver aviator goggles on top of his head that matched his silver jacket. “So, Y/N, what is your weirdness? You know about mine. I want to know about yours.” 

That made her laugh. “Nice way of saying it. I have, uh, protective abilities?” 

“You ask, or you know?” 

She glared at him playfully. “I know. I wasn’t sure if that description was correct. Let me put it this way - I can create and manipulate forcefields.” 

“Nice.” That was his only comment. “So, you have a codename?” 

“What?” she raised a brow. 

“You know, like Scott is Cyclops. Logan is Wolverine. I am Quicksilver,” he explained. “Do you have any name you go by?” 

Wheels were turning inside her head. “No,” she said. “I never thought about it, actually. Do I need one?” Was it necessary to have a codename? Holy shit, Logan was called the Wolverine? She could see why. It suited him well. 

“That’s up to you, I guess.  Okay, changing the topic - how long have you been here?” 

“Over a month,” she replied. “It’s been a hell of a ride. What about you?” 

He thought about it. “It’s been over a decade. I love this place, to be honest.” 

They slowly approached the main gate. They could see some people standing there, talking. Y/N was sure Logan was not there. “You took a break or something?” 

Peter nodded. “I needed some time off. It was all overwhelming. Charles granted me a lengthy vacation. I took a break, travelled the States, and here I am, ready to work again.”

Storm, Kitty and Kurt were the first three there, chatting. Y/N felt some excitement building inside of her. It was nice being a part of something bigger and better. Both Storm and Kitty were great women and friends. Were they friends? God, she hoped so. The last three to arrive were Bobby, Logan and Rogue. Rogue and Logan were squabbling. She couldn’t hear what it was about until she heard: “Let it fucking go, Rogue.” 

She had to chuckle. What got Logan so worked up? 

“Let’s fucking go, people,” Peter called them.

Thus, a thirty-minute walk to the bar started. Rogue linked arms with Y/N, and they walked ahead of everyone. Her arms were covered with gloves that hid under the denim jacket. That way, she could touch the other woman without fear of hurting her.

“Isn’t it annoying?” Y/N asked her. 

“The gloves? Yes, a little bit. Luckily, I can touch Remy without them,” she said with a smile. “He’s the only person that I won’t hurt. I don’t know how it is possible, but I don’t care. What matters is that I can touch the person I love.” 

“What if you subconsciously learnt to not hurt him?” Y/N thought out loud. “I can shut my brain from the Professor. I don’t know how, but I do it. Well, I might have already figured it out.”

They talked together the entire way to the bar. Rogue wouldn’t let anyone speak to Y/N. She wanted to have her for herself and get to know the woman better. 

Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her back the whole time. She suppressed the urge to turn around and look at Logan. She was more than sure it was him staring at her. It kept happening until they arrived at the empty bar. 

It looked like an old dive bar. Country music was playing in the background. An older-looking man was standing behind the bar, cleaning glasses. He had short white hair and glasses on his nose. When his grey eyes found a group of mutants at the door, he smiled. 

“Welcome, friends,” he greeted them with a raspy voice. “I was wondering when I will see you again. Come, sit. Ah, I see a new face here,” his lips crooked into a smile. 

Rogue grabbed Y/N by the shoulder and brought her closer to the man. “This is Y/N,” she said happily. “She’s been with us for some time now.” 

“Nice to meet you,” said Y/N, shaking hands with the man. 

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“A beer would be nice, thank you,” she replied with a smile. They told her the owner was a mutant. What was his mutation? 

Rogue took her to the table where the rest of the people were seated. Y/N sat next to Storm, right opposite Logan. Rogue sat by the man’s side. 

It felt like a friendly gathering. The atmosphere was inviting. It’s been years since Y/N felt safe in a group. They were all like her, unique and not criminals. When Y/N’s eyes travelled around the table, her soul got warmer and relaxed. A gentle smile appeared on her face. She listened to Bobby talk about his day. The teens got on his nerves today. 

“In case you haven’t heard,” Storm interrupted him. “Y/N will become the newest English and Literature teacher.” 

“No kidding!” Rogue shouted excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

All eyes were on her now. “I asked the Professor today,” she explained. “I don’t know. I simply didn’t. I kind of forgot, I guess.” 

“Another smartass,” Logan commented. 

“Aren’t you one, too?” Y/N glared at him, her lips turning into a grin. “Listen, I asked if he’d need an English teacher, and Charles said yes. I’m glad that I would be able to repay him at least a little.” 

The bartender brought them a tray of beers. They all grabbed one. Y/N put the drink to her lips and took a sip. Then another one. Before she knew it, she drank the whole glass in one go. She burped a little and smiled. “Damn, that was a good beer.” When her eyes lifted from the empty glass, everyone stared at her. Some had their mouths open, and others were impressed. “What? It’s been years.” 

“You’ll be out before you know it,” Bobby warned her. “Be careful.” 

“So,” Rogue clapped her hands. It got everyone’s attention. “Since we are all here, let’s get more information about Y/N.” 

“Oh, no,” Y/N hid her face in her hands.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Storm nudged her shoulder. “We want to know everything about you. Let’s start with the basics. Tell us something interesting about yourself. For example, I like gardening.” 

Y/N peeked at Storm, raising a brow. “That’s quite shocking. I could never picture you in a garden, on your knees and covered in dirt.” 

“The more you know. Now, it’s your turn.” 

“Ah,” Y/N sighed and thought about her life. “I used to attend guitar lessons,” she said after a while. “My parents made me take guitar lessons. That was years ago. I don’t think I remember anything.” 

“At least someone who’s not tone-deaf,” Peter commented. “I can’t listen to some of you singing off-key.” 

“I’m saying I played the guitar, not that I can sing,” Y/N corrected him. 

“It’s still the same,” Peter shrugged. 

“Anything else?” Storm asked. 

Y/N’s eyes moved around the place. She found darts and a pool table farther away. “Nothing is interesting about me,” she said. “I’m going to get another beer. Anyone want anything else?” she asked them. 

Y/N’s eyes fell on Logan’s empty glass, and she raised a brow. Their eyes locked. It was a silent plea to save her from the interrogation. “I’ll go with you,” he said. 

They walked from the table and straight to the bar. Logan ordered them more beer. He leaned against the wooden counter, elbows resting on it. “Everyone is curious about you,” he commented. 

“I hate that,” she sighed. “It’s like going to a confession. They all get information, and I get nothing out of it. It makes me nervous. I feel like the least interesting person here.” She turned her body to him. “Back in the day, when I started high school, this was a nightmare. People wanted to know everything to convince themselves that their lives were more interesting than others.” 

Logan’s eyes travelled around her body until they landed back on her face. “True,” he shrugged. “But here, people are genuinely curious and want to know you. You are part of the team, you know?” 

“It feels forced,” said Y/N. 

The bartender handed them beers, and he winked at Y/N. She chuckled at that. He wasn’t too discreet about the flirting. Then again, she didn’t mind. 

Her eyes landed on the pool table again. “Listen. Do you want to play?” she pointed with her head. 

Logan turned to look at it and then back at her, smirking. “Not only do you want me to kick your ass during training. You also want to lose playing pool?” 

“Is that a threat I hear in your voice? I will beat you,” she threatened with a finger.

“Only one way to find out, princess,” he grabbed his beer. “We’ll have a game, Stan,” Logan said to the bartender. 

Storm and Kitty watched them walk around the pool table and play. They both had grins on their faces, squabbling here and there. “They are so blind,” Kitty whispered to Storm.

“Let them have this dance,” Storm whispered back. “Five bucks, they’ll end up together by the end of the month.” 

“I’m giving them a week,” Bobby joined on the bet. 

Y/N held the billiard cue tightly in her hand. Logan was the one who started the game. They flipped a coin, and he won. Logan got himself solids while Y/N remained with the stripes. When he screwed up his move, it was time for her to play. The last time she played pool was years ago. It was a game she wasn’t able to master. All she could do was to try and have a good time. 

She sank one of her balls and moved to another one. She leaned over the table, placed the cue on the table and focused. There weren’t any good shots for her. Therefore, she had to play something and try. 

Logan stood next to her and laughed. “Your stance is wrong,” he said. He reached for her hand and brought it higher on the cue. 

His body was oh so close to her, and Y/N forgot how to breathe. She could smell the cigars, a heavy man’s cologne and something musky. When he pulled away, his hand brushed against her lower back. It made her hit a ball that sank one of his solid balls. “Shit,” she cursed. 

Logan’s howling laughter echoed around the bar. “You really want me to win, princess.” 

“You are distracting me,” she frowned at him when she straightened her stance. She reached for her beer and drank from it. 

Her eyes were stalking him, watching his every move. When did he light up a cigar? He held it between his lips while he played his turn. Y/N huffed. She took off her leather jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. Then, she fixed her blouse and popped open the highest button to show some cleavage. If he could distract, so could she. 

He sank two other balls when the third try was unsuccessful. “Fuck,” he growled. 

Y/N snickered. She walked to the table and scanned her stripes. This round sucked. There was nothing good to play. She sat at the edge and held the cue behind her back. 

“You won’t be able to make it,” Logan stared at the scene. “It’s a difficult move, kid.” 

Y/N exhaled and hit the red stripe ball perfectly. “Ha!” she shouted happily when the ball sank. “Did you see that?” 

Logan smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Go on, it’s still your turn,” he goaded her. “Show me what else you can do.” He took a drag of the cigar.

Y/N felt confident. Even though she was three balls behind, she started to believe she could win. She gave him a smug face as she walked around the table, trying to find another good shot. It was all fun and games. When she brushed past him, Logan wanted to grab her by the neck and bring her lips to his. He only took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. 

Y/N leaned over the table and hovered the cue on the table. There was one ball that had the potential of being taken down. She took a deep breath. Again, Y/N felt Logan’s eyes on her body. She started burning up. With this knowledge, she hit the white ball, and with some dumb luck, she managed to sink the black eight ball. 

“No!” she shouted, horrified. 

Logan’s roaring laughter brought everyone’s attention. “Holy shit,” he placed a hand on his belly. “You did not!”

Y/N leaned against a wall and hid her head in her arms. “What the fuck was that?!” she shouted, pissed. 

Laughter came from the table where the rest of the people sat. They saw what happened. “Oh, Y/N, no,” Kitty gasped, laughing. 

“I’m never playing this dumb game again,” Y/N made a dramatic announcement. “Oh my god,” she pushed from the wall and turned around. She noticed all eyes on her. “Listen,” she blushed. “I am talented. I am the best there is. I should stick to drinking,” she said ironically. 

“Hey, hey,” Logan walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “If you’d like, I can also kick your ass while playing darts,” he teased. 

She glared at him. “Very funny,” she shook off his hand and went to get her beer. “I will kick your ass when we have the next training session,” she threatened. Once she got to her beer, she went back to him. “I will find a way to burn all your clothes.”

Logan tilted his head and grinned. “If you want to see me without clothes, all you need to do is ask.” 

“Is that a challenge?” she looked into his eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. “Think twice, or you might regret it.” And then, she drank the rest of her second beer in one go. “Refill?” 

He snorted. “You’ll get drunk, princess.” 

“Well, you only live once, right?” she shrugged and walked to the bar to order another beer. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Everyone talked and laughed. Y/N wasn’t interrogated as she was at the very beginning. Bobby told her about the students and what to expect from them. Kitty added some of her funniest memories and challenges as a teacher. Storm included what to do when the school is under attack.

“It happens,” she said. “Not often, but at least once a year.” 

Before they knew it, Y/N was on her fifth beer and feeling it. Her face was burning, the world spinning, and she could feel it in her veins. Her voice got louder, and words went flying out of her mouth.

“I love my life,” Y/N said out of nowhere. Some giggles spread around. “Everything’s good, you know? I have a place to sleep, food to eat, and amazing friends,” she said with a wide smile. “I fucking hope we are friends.”

“Of course we are,” Bobby nodded.

“No more beer for you, young lady,” said Peter. “By the way, how is it possible to get drunk from beer?” 

She took a big, dramatic breath. “Let me tell you a short story, my friend. When you are locked up for years, barely able to eat and an involuntary abstainer, you can get drunk easily.” 

More laughter followed. “Take it easy, girl,” Storm patted her shoulder. 

Y/N stood up from their table. “I’m going outside to take a breather and clear my head.” She tripped over her feet but managed to stand tall. “It’s the floors,” she blamed it. 

The midnight air was cold. Y/N walked outside without her leather jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Getting drunk was not the plan. On the other hand, the beer tasted good. It eased her nerves. Walking around Logan got easier the more she drank. That fucker was such a tease. 

Y/N let her hair loose and put the elastic band between her fingers. She let her hair fall over her shoulders and face. 

How would his lips feel against mine? Where did that question come from? Her mind was racing miles. All she could see was Logan’s face and those lips she wanted to taste. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts. 

“You okay, kid?” 

She sighed. Of course, Logan would be the first one to check up on her. It was nice. But it brought back all those impure thoughts. 

“I’d like another beer,” she said to him. 

“Go get some. But I’m warning ya, I’m not the one carrying ya back to the school.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Y/N winked at him. When she took a step, she almost tripped again. Sighing, she said, “Seriously, what is with the floor?” 

“Y/N, you are drunk,” said Logan. “The floor is fine. Also, you are outside, so there is ground under your feet. I think it’s time to go back to school.” 

“You are right,” she nodded and yawned. “I’m going to get my jacket. I’ll head back to school. You guys have fun.” Y/N wanted to walk inside to get her belongings. However, Logan stopped her. Y/N was about to protest, but she noticed he already had her jacket. “How did you get that? You are not the one who can run fast. That’s Peter.” 

Logan was a bit annoyed when she mentioned his name. He put the jacket around her shoulders. “Come on, princess. Let’s get ya home.” 

“You are coming with me?” she looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“You think I’m letting you walk there alone in this state? Come on, Y/N, I’m not leaving you when you are drunk and barely able to walk on your own.” 

A bright smile appeared on her face. “Aw, you are my knight in shining armour,” she sang. 

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett #Logan Howlett x female reader #Wolverine #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #x-men #x-men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[dinogoofymutated]

○♡○ Hi!! Just a heads up, this masterlist is pretty bare atm, as this sideblog is pretty new. My love for x-men has reawakened with the new show, and its criminal how few fanfictions there is for this Fandom. So here I am! ○♡○

☆ Fic I'm the most proud of this week : Tender moments ☆

I absolutely love getting requests and comments! Leave as many as you'd like :)

I don't wanna make a long rule post, so I'll throw it in here.

I mainly write m/f m/gn reader inserts. I'm okay with writing headcannons and fics both nfsw and sfw, although nsfw works I need a little more time with.

For the love of god, please don't send any requests for incest, piss, scat, or anything along those lines.

Please be patient with me while I write! I'm a full time college student with 2 jobs, so things may take me some time. Along with that, I might not write every request I receive, so please keep that in mind!

Blue over you | Wolverine/gn!reader -Lt. Angst, Open ended.

Make out or be caught trope | Gambit/GN!reader - SFW mostly, a little spicy tho.

Remy, no! | Gambit/Fem!Reader. - NSFW! Teasing and smut.

Comfort for monsters | Nightcrawler/GN!reader - angst to fluff.

Tender moments | Cable/GN!reader- SFW! - pt 2

×○ Multi ○×

• (sfw) How they react after saving you | Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Angel.

×○ Individual ○×

♡ Nightcrawler Headcannons | 1 (nsfw!) 1.5 (nsfw!) 2 (sfw!)

♤ Gambit Headcannons | 1 (nsfw!) 2 (sfw)

□ Wolverine Headcannons | 1 (nsfw) 2 (SFW)

◇ Quicksilver headcannons | 1 (sfw)

#kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #x men 97 #nightcrawler #wolverine x reader #Wolverine #gambit #remy lebeau #warren worthington iii #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #x men x reader #x men headcannons #x men gambit #cable headcannons #cable x reader #nathan summers x reader