#peter maximoff x gender neutral!reader

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Collar/Leash Kink with Peter Maximoff

A/N: okay I’m gonna be honest, this did not start out including puppy play. Um. Yeah. This is the fic. Enjoy. It has plot

READ THE WARNINGS FIRST!!!! DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE!!!!

Written for a gn!Reader

Link to masterlist here

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

CW: mentions of collaring/wearing a collar; sexual collaring; kink exploration; undernegotiated kink (?); explicit sexual content; smut; humping the floor; mild puppy play; mild pet play; hand jobs; begging; cum eating; mentions of quick recovery times; Peter is an eager boy

1006 words

“You ever thought about wearing a dog collar?”

You’re pretty used to Peter’s random thoughts by now, but this one catches your attention. “Huh?”

“A collar and leash?” He looks at you, thoughts moving a mile per minute behind his eyes. “I dunno. I think it’d be cool. Like a sex thing.”

You’re struggling to follow his line of thought but you nod. “You saw it in a magazine, didn’t you?”

He shrugs. Grins unapologetically. “Maybe. Just think about it. Maybe not for you. But one of those chunky ones with the spikes. I bet it’d make me look fierce.”

You blink and consider the idea. It’s not… a bad thought, all things considered. In fact, you actually kinda like it. Peter, all collared up. Finally unable to run away.

It’s actually a kind of… fun thought.

Then he changes the subject and you file the thought away for later.

You don’t think about it again until a few months later. It’s his birthday, and you desperately need a gift for him. He’s hard to please, given that he just steals anything he wants.

You’re passing the pet section of the store when you pause. After a moment, you turn down the aisle. You stop at the collars and peruse for a while. You can’t get one too small, but you don’t want one that’s too plain.

Eventually you decide on a nice pale blue one. It matches his eyes and is on the thicker side. Plus the buckle’s made of metal. Hard to undo easily.

You buy the accompanying leash and force a laugh when the cashier asks about your dog. You tell her it’s for a friend’s dog and hasten out of the store. No point in making the situation more awkward.

You wrap up the gift and set it in your bag. You’ll give it to him after the party, once everyone’s gone. He’ll love it. You’re pretty sure. Pretty sure. Somewhat sure. You’re… sure…?

Peter loves it.

Loves isn’t really the right word. He opens your present and immediately starts to vibrate. He ping-pongs around the room for a moment before settling back down with the biggest grin on his face. “You bought me a collar.”

You grin back, unable to help the bubble of affection in your chest. You’ve never seen him so excited before. It’s infectious and you love it.

“You said you wanted one.”

He immediately starts to put it on, but fumbles with the metal buckle. You help him, snapping the collar into place. It fits nicely around his neck. Not snug, but secure all the same. It looks good on him.

You attach the leash and scoot back, playfully giving it a tug. You don’t mean anything by it; it’s just a silly action. But his reaction makes you reconsider.

He moves automatically, following the pull of the leash. His eyes are a little wide, his pupils dilated. “Do that again.”

You tug on the leash, a little harder this time. Pulling him to you. He comes easily, shifting to his hands and knees. You’re not looking, but you can see the tent in his pants.

“Again,” he whispers breathlessly. You reach out and tangle your fingers in his hair. Scratching at his scalp the way you would a dog’s head. He moans at the action, melting into your lap.

It takes you a moment, but eventually you smirk. Peter’s always been submissive, but not like this. Usually, he’s running his mouth a mile per minute. Right now, he’s quiet, pressing into your touch like a puppy.

“That’s a good boy,” you murmur. “Doing so good for me.”

He whimpers, a shiver running through him. His legs shift, spreading a little wider as he starts to lightly rut against the floor.

You grin. “You like that? You like when I call you a good boy?”

He moans your name, pressing his face into your lap. “Please…”

“Please, what, puppy?” Maybe you’re pushing it a little far, but he seems to like it. If the way he’s practically humping the ground is any indication.

“I need you,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face into your stomach.

“Need what? Use your words.” You feel hot all over. Just watching Peter get so desperate has you aching.

“I need you… Please… Just—“ He groans, panting a little. “Touch me…?”

You tug on his leash again, pulling him up. He shuffles closer, shifting to settle in your lap. Your hands rest on his thighs, letting the leash fall free.

There’s a damp spot on the front of his sweats. He whimpers as you palm his dick, hips jerking up into your touch. You can almost feel the way his dick must be throbbing. You’ve never seen him this needy before.

You pull out his cock, the hard length slick with precum. You give him an experimental stroke and he chokes out a moan. His head lolls back, his hips thrusting up against your hand.

“Please please please,” he babbles. “Please, I wanna cum so bad!”

“Puppy wants to cum?” You murmur, giving his dick several long slow strokes. You’re only teasing him a little, but his breath hitches in a tell-tale way. He’s close to tears over this.

“Yes!” He gasps, a whimper spilling from him. “Please let me cum!”

You finally take pity. Speeding up your strokes and tightening your fist just the way he likes it. He cries out, arching as he cums. Hot ropes of white painting your fist and dripping to the floor.

He collapses into you, breathing hard. You give him a moment to recover before lifting your hand to his mouth. “Lick.”

He whimpers softly but obeys, licking his cum from your hand. A shiver runs through him, his cock giving a jerky little twitch.

You grin. You weren’t planning on this ending to the night, but you’re sure going to take advantage of it. If there’s anything Peter excels at, it’s having a short recovery time. And you fully intend to have fun with that.

[drowningyoursorrow]

WALLFLOWER

kyle spencer x gn! reader (pt, 2)

You were a barista that worked at a coffee shop in a more secluded area, with only a selective few of customers. You often remained in the back, but ever since you started serving a group regularly. They called themselves witches, and you somewhat believed them. Typically, being away from the world, leading to unwanted loneliness in your work place. You've caught the eye of a certain dead blonde.

!!!: mild violence, yelling W/C: 1.5k

There was a loud ding at the door as a group of people strode up-front to order, they were your usual. You were more comfortable taking this particular group's order, generally because they didn't really pay attention to you. And they had a certain aura of confidence circulating around them that made it more relaxing for you. Scanning them, you spotted a new face. Usually there was 5 of them, you've caught on their names now.

The usual were Zoe, Madison, Queenie, Nan, and Misty. Although they were always together, they fought, a lot. You've grown accustomed to the bickering that would fill up the empty café, it made it more lively in a way. Quickly, you shifted your attention back to the boy only for a glimpse as you put in their orders, he was tall to say the least. His face was adorned with unruly blonde hair that swayed loosely on his head.

He appeared exhausted and somewhat distant as he stood behind the group, exhibiting a sense of discomfort. The girls exchanged a look before they shoved the dude up-front to take his own order. Zoe whispering words of encouragement to him, which only made you grow confused, but you waited nevertheless. You and his sort of just had a stare down as it looked like he was trying to form the words to say what he needed. You exchanged a glance with Zoe, but she only looked at you as if she wanted you to wait for him.

Furthermore, you understood and just shifted your gaze back at him with a small smile to possibly ease his nerves. It looked like it worked at least a little because he relaxed and returned the smile more sheepishly. Eventually he spoke up in a sort of soft but rough voice, “I- IIII.....Cara..- Caramel? Coffeeeee.” He slurred the last part, but you still required him to be more specific, but before you could speak. Zoe whispered softly to him as she pointed at the menu, “Kyle, you have to choose the size and what kind of caramel coffee you want. You have to be more specific.”

She gave you an apologetic smile as he started once more, “Ca-...Caramel Moooch? Mochi...- Med- ium.” You only smiled more at his wording, but how he seemed to be genuinely trying his best. It made your chest feel warmer, for some reason. “Alright, so medium caramel macchiato it is, for?” “Kyle.” You nodded, amused at the fact that he stated his name so confidently in response, you bit your cheek, but your grin remained.

Kyle's gaze was basically piercing through you as you finished putting in all of their orders and taking the payment. Zoe finished up, smiling at you, “Thank you for not getting upset or anything.” “Oh, of course, yeah! It's always great to practice with this stuff in case you forget or something?” She laughed at the response and ushered Kyle to the table everybody else was sitting at. Acknowledging that there were no other customers, you went in the back to help make their drinks.

Since the place is always dead, your manager only puts two of you on the job, which you can't argue with because it's understandable. Noticing that the drinks were all being prepared already and your coworker shooing you off to go stay up-front. You and them sort of had this deal that you just work up-front and serve while they make everything. It was easier for you so you agreed, but god, sometimes you'd wish they'd let you help it was incredibly boring just standing and doing nothing all day. You leaned against the counter as you scrolled through your phone, but you felt that unwavering gaze on you once more.

Slowly you lifted your head to the corner of the caf￩, the group were bickering once more, but the culprit remained quiet. He was basically squished in-between Madison and Zoe, but he was still out of place. He looked as if he was trying to discreetly stare at you or something, which only made this amusing to you. You weren't creeped out by his unwavering stare, although it would make more sense, instead it only made you internally laugh. You pretended you just didn't catch him and just went back on your phone as you shifted to where your back would be facing him.

As you did, a grunt came from his area, and eventually you heard slamming then hushed yelling. You peeked over your shoulder a bit, confused, you saw Kyle tugging at his hair as Zoe was trying to soothe him. Madison looked absolutely put up with it, and everybody else was continued on like it was a daily occurrence. You could pick out this from Madison, “Kyle, this is why we don't fucking take you anywhere, did a fly set you off? Huh? Nothing was even happening! Why are you freaking out, Frankenstein?” You turned back around, caught off guard, but it isn't your place to judge, so you just went back on your phone.

There was another slam and slightly wailing which caused your eyebrows to furrow, and you fully turned around. Because this was now concerning, and you are an unbelievably nosey person. Kyle's fingers were still ripping at his hair, but eventually stopped as he stared at you once more, relaxing. The group turned to you as if you were the holy grail. Honestly, you were confused yourself, and it must've shown because the group looked at each other giving certain looks.

But Kyle's attention remained on you as you eyed him suspiciously because his actions and reactions baffled you. Madison blurted at you, “Hey! Wreck! Turn around again!” You furrowed your brows because what the hell, you're serving her and she's insulting you. You could spit in her drink, does she realize that? But she kind of was intimidating, so you did as you were told and there it was again.

The frustrated whining and slamming from the blonde erupted once again, so you turned back around again. It was like playing peek-a-boo with a baby, he's okay but as long as your face isn't visible he started throwing a tantrum. And you didn't find that weird in the slightest, instead you were intrigued and gave Kyle a light smile as the group turned into whispers. Before anything else could happen, there was a ding, meaning that their drinks were done. So quickly, you went and grabbed what they wanted, not staying long enough to hear the groaning.

You hurriedly walked to them and set down what was necessary as you handed Kyle his drink, holding it in front of him. He eyed you before shakily taking it from your grasp, his hand encasing around the whole thing, briefly swallowing your own hand whole. His touch was cold, but it still sent sparks through your body, as if you got shocked directly. You tugged your hand away as you believed he had a good enough hold on it, in which he gave you a pleading look. You looked at the group with a confused look as they studied you and nervously sped walk away from their view and hid in the back.

Kyle must've been still stunned from the shock as well because he only stared ahead, his drink sat down beside him. He was rubbing the palm that grazed yours as Zoe and Madison spoke in his ear about something. Before you could go back out to apologize, everyone was getting up, Madison dragging Kyle with her as he tried to remain. You were peeking from the doorway, afraid to be confronted and possibly blamed for whatever was going on. Zoe went to help Madison, whispering something in his ear, which caused him to be more compliant and follow her.

As all their backs were turned from the front, you hastily made your way back out and studied what was going on. Everyone was arguing once more, Zoe and Madison were basically clashing, you've never seen two people be so close yet be incredible enemies. As everyone was heading out the door, you could see the blonde turn his head to check if you returned in, which you did. You and his made brief eye contact that felt as if it made you two connected in a way, which was weird because you just met this guy. He opened his lips to speak as he tried to plant his feet again, but before he could, the door was slammed behind him as he was dragged out.

You and him stared at each other through the front window, not knowing what to do, you just kind of awkwardly waved. You've never seen anybody ever light up so quickly and so much because he was beaming at you. Reciprocating your action as smiles laced both of your lips as he was dragged out of view. Still processing what happened you just stared ahead, this all felt unreal and strange to say the least. Only if you knew what Zoe had whispered to ease his nerves as he was being tugged away from you.

Maybe she was promising he'd see you again.

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

- Might make more parts, this was cheesy to make but sweet - This was not proofread in any shape or form - I love coffee - The fact I work at a ice cream shop instead of a barista is insane

Hope you enjoyed and if you have any requests or questions please dm!

[dominos-palast]

Pillow replacement

Fandom: XMen

Pairing:   Peter Maximoff x gn!reader

Characters mentioned: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Professor X

Used Pronouns: (they/them)

Warnings: none

A/N: In this story, reader is a psychic. They came from an isolated place and joined the school (here academy for some reason) not too long ago. They can use for example Telekinesis.

P.S.: This was written with a platonic relationship in mind, but you are free to perceive it however you like.

P.S.S.: This happens after the events of Apocalypse (2016) (Scott and Jean are teenagers and Quicksilver decided to stay at Xavier’s School)

Summary: Reader can’t sleep without hugging something. When the other kids use all the pillows to create a fortress of pillows in the academy, reader has to improvise. Word Count: 4k

Peter lay comfortably on his bed while reading some comic book he took from Scott’s room when he wasn’t around. He had his headphones on and was listening to Floyd at full volume. Because of this, he missed the knocking on the door.

He looked up and took the headphones off. “It’s basic manners to knock before you enter, you know?”

You rolled your eyes and stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind you.

“I can hear the music from over here. Why don’t you turn the volume down before you become mute.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled. “You mean deaf?”

You sighed at the realisation. Peter just grinned and slowly incorporated himself, leaving the comic and the headphones on the bed.

“Let me be. I’m too tired to think right now.” You pinched your nose bridge while still holding onto the door knob. Your eyelids were heavy from fatigue.

“Oh yeah, you weren’t around for breakfast. We should prohibit missions before 9 A.M.” He looked into the distance dramatically, remembering the many times he had been forced to wake up in the early morning hours to rescue civilians from burning buildings and such. Why couldn’t people blow buildings up in the afternoon?

“Why don’t you take a nap, though?” He ended up asking.

“That’s why I am here. The other kids are doing some massive fort out of pillow in the living room, and they took mine as well, and you know I can’t sleep without hugging something.”

“You didn’t fight for your beloved pillows? That sure is out of character.” He smirked teasingly.

“Last time I did, I ended up getting scolded by the Professor for sticking them to the wall with my powers. Anyway, would you lend me some-”

He grabbed the bag full of dirty laundry he had been leaning on. “Mine were also taken.”

You groaned displeased, and were about to leave the room when he quickly added, “You could use me as a pillow.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him, throwing a deadly glance. You saw him flinch.

“Nevermind, I wouldn’t qualify as a pillow anyway…huh?”

Peter didn’t know how to react to you dragging your feet in his direction. You took off some layers from your outfit and threw them on the ground without a care in the world. Then you climbed onto the bed. Finally, Peter snapped out of his confusion and smirked to himself, laying his head on the bag packed with laundry and spreading his arm so he could embrace you as you laid your head on his chest. You hugged his waist and put a leg on him, just as if he was a pillow. He looked down at you happily and made sure you felt comfortable. Then he squeezed you gently.

“I thought you wanted to hang me for offering you myself. You really must be tired to have accepted my request.” He admitted.

“I will hang you if you don’t shut it, speedy boy”, You replied, your eyes already closed.

He just giggled and rested his head on yours. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Didn’t you go get them?” asked Jean, already in her suit.

Scott replied in an annoyed tone. “Not in their room, and not in the living room sticking people to the wall. I can’t find them anywhere. Can we just go without them?” Scott groaned at Jean’s disapproving look. “I don’t know why the Professor insists on bringing them along. We already have you as a psychic.”

“Stop complaining, will you? Go look for them in Peter’s room.”

“They are the most antisocial person I have ever met, and you believe they’d be together in a room? We would have seen Peter flying off a window already.” Scott followed Jean to Peter’s room.

“Don’t be dramatic. They only have to get used to other people. They haven’t had it easy before coming here, after all”, she said.

But Scott wouldn’t take that as an answer. He still had bruises from the first time he had met you. Although he knew it had been his fault for pushing your buttons, you still didn’t have to throw him across the room in front of the other XMen.

Jean stopped in her tracks and pressed a finger to her lips, then opened the door to Peter’s room. Scott peeked inside. His mouth dropped.

There you were, Peter and you cuddled to each other, both sleeping peacefully.

Jean smirked, “I told you.” He glanced up in annoyance. “Let’s let them sleep. The Professor will understand.”

[alotofpockets]

Mac and cheese | Yelena Belova

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

Prompt: “When is the last time you ate?”

Masterlist | requests: closed | words: 700

It had been roughly two months since Yelena had left the Avengers Compound to go on a mission. A mission where she wasn't able to keep any contact with you or the rest of the team. They were the worst missions in your eyes. Not knowing if your girlfriend was okay, was one of the most horrible feelings in the world.

You'd spend most of your days hiding out in your room. Of course, the team tried their hardest to get you to leave it. You always joined trainings and missions of your own, but when they were done you'd move back to your room. When the team realized trying to drag you out of your room wasn't going to work, they brought the distraction to you. 

Natasha came over to watch movies, Wanda made sure you had all the food you needed, and Kate joined you for some gaming. Tony tried distracting you by building new gadgets for your suit, with the help of Peter. You appreciated their efforts and their kindness. It was a nice distraction from the constant worry.

You got up when you heard someone knocking on your door, expecting it was one of your teammates for their daily distraction efforts. But when you opened the door, Yelena was standing in front of you. You close the remaining distance and fall into her arms.

She was okay. She's okay and back home. You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks. "I'm so glad you're okay." You tell her between sniffles. "I'm glad to be back." She responds with a raspy voice. 

That's when you move out of the hug to inspect her. She looked pale and tired, she had some small cuts here and there, but she had treated the injuries. “When is the last time you ate?” You ask, maybe that's where the paleness comes from.

Yelena thinks for a moment, "It's probably too long ago, if I don't remember, right?" You nod. "How about you take a nice warm shower or bath, and I'll make you some of your favorite mac and cheese?" Yelena smiles, "Thank you love, that sounds amazing."

You decide on making a big pot of mac and cheese, that way everyone could join for dinner. And simultaneously it would be a thank you to them for taking care of you over the past weeks.

When Yelena walks into the kitchen, you rush to her side. No matter how many times you tell her you do not mind, she always insists on no kisses until she isn't mission dirty anymore. She once explained that she would like the mission behind, rid herself of the dirt from it, so that she doesn't feel like the mission will live on through the dirt. You respected her feelings and had waited until now to kiss her. You had missed her soft lips so much. 

Walking back to stir in the pot while holding Yelena’s hand in yours, you tell her about your plan of inviting everyone for dinner. She likes your idea and asks F.R.I.D.A.Y. to let everyone know there's mac and cheese for dinner in the kitchen. 

The team comes storming in one by one. Natasha being the first and sprinting even faster when she sees her sister standing next to you. Bringing her into a big hug and after leaning into you to whisper in your ear, "I told you she would come back." It brings a small smile to your face, she has told you that many times recently. The rest of the team mates each welcome back Yelena in their own way, before you make everyone a bowl of mac and cheese.

After dinner Wanda offers to do the dishes, so that you can spend some alone time with Yelena. An offer you gladly took. You walked back to your shared room at the Compound. Without communicating you both knew what you were going to do. You each lay down in the bed and move into each other's arm, cuddled up close together. You hold your girlfriend until she falls into a well-deserved sleep, closing your own eyes shortly after. Very grateful to have her back in your arms again.

~

Turn on notifications for @pocketslibrary to be notified when I post a new fic! 

[marvel-potter-1d-korea]

Hi guys! I'm just here to tell you that if you guys have any requests for one shots or imagines of Marvel characters or actors, Harry Potter characters then I'll do my best to fulfill them.

The ask should contain the character, the theme of what you want it to be(it can be general or specific, i don't mind), whether you want it to be any specific reader and I'll try my best!!

I have a lot of time on my hands and i need something to pass the time 🥲

I can do Mafia au and soulmate au, i do fluff and angst. No smut. So yea I guess that's it.

[aza-writes]

I’m making a taglist!!

Comment the emoji to be tagged the fics you want

🩸: Blood Red Fic

😈: Devil of Hell’s Kitchen

🪄: what in Merlin’s name is a scarlet witch

🦸‍♀️: MCU oneshots

🧚‍♀️: HP oneshots

🎤: Harry styles one shots and series

[kitmoas]

Magic makes play so much more fun

Two sides//Same Coin

Summary: Sometimes divide and conquer is the best plan of action

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader | Kate Bishop x Natasha Romanoff | Kate Bishop x Reader | WandaNatKate x Reader

Word Count: 8.8K

Warnings: Public Sexual Acts (All characters are consenting adults), Weapon Play, Magic Play and...a very fun important spell is used on Toy , Filming, Boot kink, Degradation/Humiliation *As usual, if I forgot anything important lemme know*

A/N: lol we wont talk about how long this took for me to write 🙂Thank you for anyone who is still around and stuck around for this update! Love you guys SO much 💜

Training Grounds Master List

***Minors DNI*** ***18+***

Smirking slightly, eyes locked on the bare skin of Wanda’s knee just inches from your face, as your body sways. You’re in a mood today and you know you were already pushing the boundaries, but you just can’t help but want to break every rule. The witch had just about had it with you, ordering you to follow her around on your hands and knees after you had bitten her ankle aggressively while she was on the phone. It wasn’t your fault though, she’s the one who had you kissing her legs as payment for you eating ice cream for breakfast. Her ankle was just there, and if she was going to treat you like Kate then so be it. 

Wanda is typing away on her laptop, something about some stupid business contract that she and Natasha were reading through, and it’s making you grumpy. Every single time you got to hang out with the two lately they have been busy. The two were extremely excited but wouldn’t give you any real details, so you were not only being left in the dark but also neglected. She had you kneeling, widely and comfortably which was generous considering your attitude, but it was doing nothing for your headspace and it just made you even more mischievous. 

Your stomach is quietly rumbling, and you know you’re supposed to ask for a snack especially when you’re already actively in a punishment but you don’t want to eat something healthy. Looking around you notice some of the candy that was left over from the movie night, the moment you scoot to the left a hand reaches out and tangles in your hair. With a sharp painful yank, you’re staring directly into the unamused emerald eyes but you just giggle. “You have been pushing every single one of my buttons today, Detka. My work is very important, and I thought you would have been a good girl while your Daddy and I got everything together.” 

Her words are tense, and you can tell she’s trying to not start something that will last long, but you just smile innocently up at her. “I am being an angel, Mommy.” The taunt leaves your lips like poison, and you can see your bait taking when Wanda snarls down at you. “Maybe you’re just getting old and can’t keep up anymore, did ya ever think of that?” The infamous head tilt strikes a fear response within you, but you hold strong. “Losing your touch, Wanda?” The name is out of your mouth before your brain can catch up, before your body can start running. 

By the time it dawns on you just exactly what you said, the witch’s face is blank. Her grip in your hair is slack, straightening in her seat. She silently turns back to her work, the sound of her keyboard clicking confusing you. What just happened? She was taking the bait, your act was working. You were just about to get what you wanted. Flabbergasted you stand slowly, cautiously as you were still technically being punished, but nothing. A pout forms on your lips as you slowly back away, heading straight to the candy. Again nothing as you pick the box up, and you know that even without her powers she could hear you jiggle the box around. Huffing you walk back to her side, plopping down unceremoniously, and make a huge show of shoving a large handful of the chocolate bites into your mouth. 

She barely flinches, her focus entirely on the document she’s working on. You slump down in your spot, the box of candy falling from your grip. Guilt starts to tug at your brain as your actions of the day start sinking in. Did you break a boundary that you weren’t prepared to? Leaning forward you tentatively let your head nudge against Wanda’s thigh, sighing softly when she doesn’t push you away. You nuzzle your nose there, inhaling her scent for a while. She hasn’t pushed you away yet, and she’s letting you find comfort but do you even deserve it? A whine breaks through your lips at the lack of response you’re receiving, and the hot remorseful tears fill your eyes. You knew that you shouldn’t have been a brat. You knew that Mommy didn’t like brats, but you just got so bored and wanted the attention you weren’t receiving. Your hands shake as they hover around her calf, unable to convince yourself to reach out for comfort. Burying your face into the side of her thigh, you try your hardest to control your emotions but the tears are soaking her pants. 

The soft hand on your head, rubbing soothing circles, startles you. “Little one, are you done being a brat?” Her voice is calm, and you can see her scarlet mist circling around you. A pathetic nod is her only answer and her magic wraps you up, dragging you onto her lap. “Look at me.” Your head is moving to make eye contact with her, even without the help from her finger. “ Мой красивый ангел, Я люблю тебя. No matter how bratty you get, you are mine. Now, you aren’t getting away with it but I do think those bad thoughts were enough punishment for now; can you agree?” Her eyes are soft, searching yours slowly. A miserable sob leaves your lips as you nod swiftly. Her face softens even more as she pushes you to rest your head on her shoulder. 

You sit in her lap for a while, letting her warmth and steady breathing calm you down. “I’ll be here for you, no matter how bratty or sarcastic you get. You always deserve my affection and my comfort, Little One, no matter what. I know you’re bored, and you feel left out, but your Daddy and I are trying our hardest to get a surprise finished. You will know everything when it is time for you to know everything.” You’re nodding, letting your thumb slip into your mouth. The exhaustion of all your emotions begin catching up with you, and your eyes are fluttering shut. “Sleep detka. I’m right here.” 

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

Kate rolls, skin sticking to the mat as she grumpily pushes herself into a sitting position. Resting her arms on her knees, she stares up at the smirking widow. “Aren’t you a black belt mutt? A master of many different martial art techniques? All I see is an uncoordinated, unfocused, cocky new recruit.” The mocking tone of the older Avenger makes the brunette grumble as she stands, stretching out her tense muscles. Forest green eyes twinkle with excitement as she watches the brunette drop into a fighting pose, walking towards her discarded bag. “How about we up the ante?” 

The ginger smirk gets more arrogant as she spins back around to look at the archer. She has a rich purple collar hanging from her finger, a gold name tag with “хозяин’s Little Mutt” engraved on it. “You win, and you get to make the decisions tonight. I win and you have no control for the rest of the day, over anything.” 

Natasha smiles at the wild look in Kate’s eyes, the competitive archer bouncing on her toes at the idea of a prize. “You’re on, old lady.” The collar barely falls into the duffle bag when the ginger’s legs are swept out from beneath her, grunting before quickly flipping back onto her feet. “Losing your touch widow? Maybe you should leave the training to the new generation.” The assassin is glaring up at the archer, who is just giggling down at her. 

It doesn’t take much more for the two to start slamming into each other. For once Kate is actually holding her own, her entire focus on the competition put up. She feels strong and sharp, her hits land accurately and the young archer even got a few deflections in. The young brunette’s confidence gets higher the longer she believes that she is doing great, and it makes her work harder to try to keep up with the widow. 

Natasha lets Kate take control of the spar session, letting her gain confidence in her abilities, but the moment that Steve walks in the ginger slams the brunette onto her back. Without even looking back the older woman stands and starts walking over to the super soldier, “I wouldn’t get up if I were you. You’ll be on your hands and knees for the rest of the day.” 

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The warmth of the sun streaming through the curtains wakes you up slowly, a muffled whine tears through your teeth as you stretch. You barely have time to settle back into the plush blankets before Wanda is slipping into the room carrying a tray of food. A bright smile stretches across her face when she notices that you’re awake, “Oh good! I thought I was going to have to deal with a grumpy little one.” Her teasing voice makes you whine, wiggling in your spot as you try to hide your blush. 

You relish in the cute giggle you receive, watching as her nose scrunches. She’s setting the tray near your feet, sitting on the bed as she looks over the spread she brought; waffles, fruit, bacon, eggs, apple juice, and coffee. Her face is slightly flushed, hands shaking some as she starts cutting up the waffles. 

A wave of guilt from earlier washes over you, a knot forming in your gut. “Mommy..I’m sorry for being bratty all day.” Your voice trembles as you try your hardest to keep your emotions at bay. Wanda finished work, cooked food, and you know she cleaned as she always does all while you napped—even though you had been so disobedient all day. “I know you and Daddy would never do anything to purposefully be rude or disrespectful, and I know that you guys will answer every question I have when it’s time for me to know everything.” Tears well up in your eyes and the knot that formed in your stomach is traveling upwards, making it hard for you to speak. 

You watch as she gnaws at her bottom lip, a nervous tick that she picked up from Natasha. She’s staring determinedly at the plate, trying to gather her thoughts as she finishes the task at hand—feeding you. 

It doesn’t take too long, but the heavy silence drowns you as you wait for her to turn to you. Her emerald eyes unfocused as she reaches out to hold your hand, soft fingers drawing whimsical shapes along the inside of your wrist. It isn’t often that you see Wanda completely dumbfounded but it confounds you every time it happens. “You know whenever Natasha and I first talked about opening our relationship we thought it was going to be just for a short period of time, just an occasional one night stand that made our time in the bedroom a little less tiring.” 

Her lips stretch into a small smile, chuckling to herself as she recalls the past. Wanda is mindlessly pushing around food, poking at different bites. The way she spoke about her relationship with the ginger widow usually made you swoon, absolutely enamored with them, but today it just made you apprehensive. “ Malyshka you were never meant to happen, my love.” She finally turns to look at you, dropping your hand in lue of reaching out to cup your cheek. “When your Daddy and I realized just how much of an impact you were on us, we decided that we could no longer just worry about ourselves. The world is not a kind place, as we all know, but we happen to be in a specific part of the world that is just a bit more callous.” 

Her smile is no longer light, or reminiscent, but grim and it pulls on the lump in your throat. “You already know that we set up a plan in case something were to happen to us while we were on a mission.” The statement hangs in the air as it always does whenever the possibility of them not coming back from a mission is brought up. Her thumb catches a tear that rolls down your cheek, “Don’t worry detka this isn’t about that. This is actually something happy, I’m sorry for going down that sad road.” 

Wanda had a habit of getting lost in melancholy thoughts, even when she’s being positive. You adored her for it weirdly enough, but right now the fragile state of your heart was apparently making it difficult. “Little one, you coming into my life has changed how I see the world. I no longer am only stuck in the past. The future—our future in my mind is one of the brightest things I’ve ever been a part of, and I just… I need you to be patient with me? I know you feel like I’m acting differently and that I’m too busy for you, but I need you to know that at the end of the day everything I do is for you. I promised Nat that I would keep our little secret under wraps but it will be amazing that much I can guarantee.” Her face is bright red, and she is refusing to meet your gaze. 

Her rant lingers between the two of you, but before you can really form an opinion and response the witch is turning and feeding you small bites of the breakfast.

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Natasha groans a bit as she stretches, pleased to finally have her feet up. Training not just for herself anymore tires her quicker than she’s used to, but the new generation needs a lot of work. She watches as the young avengers and agents file into the room, a smirk plastered on her face as she watches their shocked expressions get even more wild as they find their co-leader. Kate is on her hands and knees, collar snug around her neck, acting as a footrest for the widow. Peter is sitting next to Kate, trying to make her feel a bit better since this is the first time the Young Avengers will be seeing her in such a position. 

The younger agents and heroes all have a faint blush along their faces as they try not to stare, but Kate’s entire torso is bright red as she glares at the floor in front of her. How could she lose? The archer rolls her eyes at herself as she realizes that she played directly into the older ginger’s plan of getting overly confident. The brunette is pouting as Tony begins to talk, explaining the new process and what will be happening now that the young recruits are officially training and preparing for missions. With Peter and Kate being the only two who have spent time with the OG Avengers, the rest of the team buzzed with excitement especially when the infamous Nick Fury stepped up to speak to the group. 

With all eyes now on Fury, Natasha decides now is the best time to jump into action. Pushing Kate’s head down, forcing her forehead to the cold titles, the widow smirks at the curve to the younger girl’s back. Setting her feet on the floor the widow leans down close to the archer, “Just be lucky that your little team doesn’t have to see you stripped down for me. I know that little needy pussy is dripping already, my pathetic mutt likes the humiliation don’t you?” The ginger’s voice is sharp, coming out as a hiss; her lips moving against the younger girl’s ear. 

Swallowing down the whimper that threatens to tumbles from her throat, Kate’s wide eyes flicker around trying to gauge the attention that she has. Only a couple people, all lower level agents, are focused on her. Her breathy response “Yes, хозяин” makes the widow laugh as she taps her foot onto the ground, clearing her throat as an indication of what she wants. 

A faint hiss falls from Kate’s mouth the moment her covered center makes contact with Natasha’s cool leather boots. Even with the layer of clothes, a small streak of wetness is left apparent on the widow’s shoe. Peter adverts his eyes almost immediately, trying to not choke on his surprise. It isn’t the first time he’s seen someone do something like this, but it’s the first time his best friend has done it in front of him.

The archer is grinding down on the boot before she’s even told, hips moving subtly but effectively. Pulling her lip between her teeth, a feeble attempt at being quiet. “Look at my good little mutt. Your training is coming along nicely.” The praise runs deep in Kate, making her wiggle in her spot. A choked back moan tumbles from her lips when her throbbing clit rubs against the rough lip of the boot’s outsole. 

“Look at your team—“ Kate’s head is forced up by the rough fingers tangling in her hair, nervous eyes scanning across her recruits as they all pointedly look away from her kneeling form. “Even after prepping them for this, you found some of the most innocent college kids I’ve ever met.” The chuckle that leaves her lips sends a shiver down Kate’s spine, causing her hips to rut more aggressively. “Don’t worry, I know with a nasty little bitch like you it won’t be long until your entire team is just used to you being my whore as everyone else.” 

The widow watches as the young brunette’s hips start to lose their rhythm. Scoffing at her, Natasha slips her foot out from under Kate causing her to lose her balance. A deep flush of embarrassment covers the archer’s body as everyone’s heads whip around to look at her. The older Avengers all just easily move on with their lives but the newest recruits all struggle to bring their attention back to the director. 

Natasha ignores the look that Fury shoots at her, instead choosing to focus on Kate who is now panting and squirming around. The widow even decides to ignore him as he begins to talk to her, whispering praise against the raven hair instead. ‘Romanoff, I’m starting to agree with your little girlfriend. The stray is always out of control.” His voice bellows out, looming in the air, heavy against Kate's ears and it drags a feeling of dread through her body. 

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A muted sigh leaves Wanda’s lips as she watches you from across the kitchen, licking at the spoon of brownie batter she gave you. The entire day has been weird, but the few thoughts she’s heard from you let her know that it’s all in her own head. She knows you’re still nervous, scared to do anything wrong, but that was the usual case any time you got in trouble. 

Spinning around in a quick circle you look for Wanda, eyes gleaming when you finally see her leaning against the doorway. “The batter is yummy Mommy!” Holding the empty spoon out towards the witch prompts her to finally cross the room, pushing into your personal space until your back is against the counter. The squeak that tumbles from your lips makes her chuckle, her gaze stuck to your mouth as she reaches up to swipe her thumb across your bottom lip. 

You giggle up at her as she just stares at you, an awe stricken look written all over her face. Rushing to wrap your mouth around her thumb, letting your tongue lick at the drops of batter there, you can’t help but squirm as you watch her eyes darken. A bright smile stretches your lips around her thumb, and there’s an unexplainable lightness as the two of you just exist together. You reach up, letting both of your hands wrap around her wrist, as she helps you slide up to settle on the counter. 

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, watching you wiggle on the cold marble. Her other hand is rubbing against your hip bone, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip as she struggles to say what is on her mind. “Detka you… I..” Wanda lets her forehead rest against yours, eyes slipping closed as she chuckles, a breathy light sound that has you giggling along with it. “Mo-Mommy’s precious Little One.” A gentle kiss on the tip of your nose draws another chortle from you, nuzzling into her palm as you feel your body fill with a fuzzy warmth. The soft streams of sunlight bounces against the sparkling jade of Wanda’s eyes, a sight you can’t help but admire. 

She’s invading your space, forcing you onto your back as she climbs onto the counter. Struggling to breathe as she kisses up your body, rushed and mumbled mantra “m-mine” spoken against your skin like a flame. Her movements are strategic, slow and precise, drawing ragged gasps from you as the anticipation causes your heart to stutter. 

The world around you completely slows down and you know your heart just had to have stopped the moment that the witch’s eyes are looking down into yours. She’s smiling bashfully as her eyes cloud with emotions. Your entire head empties, almost as though someone opened the floodgate on your thoughts letting them fall out onto the floor. Goosebumps spread across your whole body, sending little shakes throughout your nerves but you don’t pay any attention to them–too focused on the Sokovian.

Nothing else mattered anymore as Wanda hovered over you, her bronze hair surrounded the two of you. Unable to blink, scared to even miss a single moment of her attention on you. When her lips meet yours, a passion behind them that she saved just for you and Natasha, she pulls a whimper from you. The way her body molds into yours and her lips move with such sensual vigor leaves you melting into the counter, helpless to the witch. It’s second nature, your body reacting to her, as though you were made for her. 

She had to know what her kisses did to you, the way her tongue glides along your bottom lip leaves you breathless. Giving just enough to keep you wrapped up in her, but never enough to leave you with an air of arrogant confidence. She never truly asks for what she wants, but leaves you begging for her to force her way into your mouth. The tender grip on your jaw surrenders you helpless as she keeps you right where she wants you. Everything she ever does commands respect, and at the very core of it—your submission. 

Intoxication is the only way you can explain it, your mind swirls and blurs the moment her lips graze against you. Whenever her thoughts and actions landed on you, enthrallment bubbled within, leaving you giddy and eager for more. When her hands map out your skin, claiming it as her own, she leaves wildfires in their wake. Burning her mark into you and ruining you for any one who dares to come after her. .

You weren’t sure how long you were laid up on the counter, Wanda groping at your body always left you fuzzy, but it was both of your phones buzzing loudly that broke the two of you apart. A pathetic whine tears through your teeth as she pulls away from you, your foggy brain trying to catch up with what was happening. Sprawled out underneath her, you attempt to catch your breath as she towers over you on her knees. A deep, mocking chuckle shoots shivers down our spine as she reads the text you both received. 

Her sharp manicured nails scratch at your torso as she flips the phone around to show you the pictures that were sent into the group chat. “Looks like your stray lost a bet, detka.” You’re trying your best to focus on the screen but Wanda’s hips have begun to grind down onto you.

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The last of the young agents and recruits leave, following Peter out of the conference room, by the time that Natasha has dragged Kate on top of the table. She ignores the grumbles of Steve, rolling her eyes as he complains about getting behind on mission reports. “If you don’t want to see the show all you have to do is walk out, Flag Boy.” She darkly chuckles as she watches the archer settle as best as she can on her knees, squirming against the solid marble. The widow climbs fully onto the table, kicking off random objects as she walks slowly across it.

Kate’s head is tilted down, knees spread as she sits as pretty as possible for the widow. The feeling of cold metal tapping against her chin forces her gaze up, tipping her head back until it’s uncomfortable. The ginger sees a flash of fear in the younger girl’s eyes, “Oh you’ve never played with this before. Well I wouldn’t worry, mutts like you always love playing with a good stick.” Natasha’s sole roughly connects with the brunette’s clavicle, sending her sprawling onto her back. 

Natasha watches foggy navy eyes dart back and forth, a futile attempt to stay alert. Someone behind them moves, sending a scraping sound echoing through the hushed room. Kate flinches and the Russian’s eyes narrow taking in the reaction, but the archer’s jaw is slack and nonsensical pleading falling from her lips sparks action. Letting the end of her baton trace the young Avenger’s bottom lip as she tries to get up, propped on her elbows with wide clouded eyes. “Don’t pay those stupid boys any attention, моя маленькая сучка. All of your focus should be on me, be a good girl and open that pretty mouth just a bit more.” 

Kate blinks up at the ginger, confusion flooding her system and drowning out any uncertainty. Why was she being so nice, is this not part of the scene? Her hesitation, though only a few seconds, irritates the assassin. The archer’s heart stutters when the end of the baton is shoved past her teeth, scraping roughly against her tongue. Boots kick open her legs as Natasha steps in between, before one settles on her stomach pushing her to lay flush against the cool table. “Relax little mutt.” The muttered reassurance only loud enough to reach the young girl’s ears as the pressure on her stomach gets more intense. “Get your хозяин baton all wet, even though I know there’s no real need. Your pathetic pussy doesn’t need any help, soaking through your flimsy leggings. I haven’t even begun to fuck you and yet you’re making such a mess.” 

The more Natasha talks she can see the cloudy look return in Kate’s navy eyes, and the tension leaves her body. “Why don’t you be a good bitch, go ahead and strip for me.” The archer starts trying to get up but the ginger doesn’t take her baton out of her mouth, only pushes it further into her mouth. “Nuh uh, I said be good. Show off your training, a good mutt doesn’t drop their stick.” Taking her boot off of the younger girl’s stomach, amused green eyes watch as she struggles to get her clothes off. 

When Kate finally spreads her legs, free of confinement, there’s a collective soft gasp when the room sees just how wet she is. Pulling the baton out of the brunette’s mouth to give her a brief moment of relief but  her hips jerk when metal rubs against her inner thigh. “Awww it looks like we have a bit of an issue.” Natasha kneels between her open legs, swiping her thumb across her clit. A pathetic whimper escapes the acher’s mouth, against her own will, and the mocking laughter that follows makes her entire body flush. “It looks like I forgot to bring your favorite strap, oh no! What ever should we do?” 

She’s speaking, the derisive tone, not only to Kate but to the entire room. Unhappy about a specific presence, but ready to show off just a little, Natasha slips two fingers easily into the brunette. “How cute, such a needy little cunt. You don’t even need any prep.” Pumping her fingers, watching with a cheeky grin as she sneaks a third finger into the mix. “It’s like you want to be used in front of all your heroes. Spread so they can see your dripping pussy sucking in my fingers, begging to be filled by something else.” 

Anyone in the room could see the struggle on the CEO’s face as she tries to silence her moans, but the filthy sounds of Natasha’s fingers fucking into her is a clear giveaway. “It’s so cute that you think an adorable little slut like you can stay quiet, what if i just…” Roughly yanking her fingers out, her eyes get stuck on how Kate’s hole gapes. A pitiful whimper accompanies the archer’s hips jerking up, trying to chase after the widow’s fingers. 

Natasha chuckles, a deep and voluptuous sound, as she brings the wet digits to Maria’s mouth. Her emerald eyes stay on the archer’s reaction, watching as she clenches around nothing and squirms at Hill’s appreciative hum. As the commander mumbles out some praise and thanks, the Russian lets the tip of her baton tap against Kate’s prominent clit. 

Leaning down to cup the brunette's jaw, hanging open as she tries to catch her breath, Natasha smiles widely before spitting directly into her mouth. A small drop runs down Kate’s chin, “Such a messy mutt.” Letting her thumb pop into the CEO’s mouth to distract her just enough that when the ginger slips the tip of the baton into her it draws a squeak. “Stop squirming slut, wouldn’t want me to slip and accidentally electrocute you or would you?” Panicked moaning is muffled by the thumb still in Kate’s mouth, pushing further the more noise she makes. 

Everyone in the room can hear how wet the young Avenger is with each rough thrust of the baton, even with her mouth filled her moans are echoing throughout the room. “I bet you like all the eyes on you, don’t you?” Natasha’s question is met with muted yes, but it isn’t good enough for her. Dragging her thumb out of her mouth and swiping a knife from the table, Kate barely has enough time to gasp before she feels the sharp blade against her neck. “I taught you enough tricks to know you know how to speak, bitch.” 

Choking back a sob, the archer scrambles to answer. “I do! I love everyone watching me.” Her voice is strained, trying to avoid the way the knife pricks her skin as it leaves small cuts across her throat. “Пожалуйста хозяин.”  Cobalt eyes darting around, looking for someone to help but all the other Avengers are just enjoying the show. 

The edge of the blade trails down her torso, leaving bright red lines. Crimson leaking down her ribcage, a cough gets the widow’s attention. Head whipping around, but her thrusting never stops, as she makes eye contact with one of her best friends. “I don’t see you complaining anymore Stars, your pole is pretty tall right now.” Natasha rolls her eyes, a disgusted groan falling from her lips as she watches Steve flush in embarrassment.

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Her magic is gentle as it tightens around you, lifting you into the air forcing you to follow behind the witch. Settling into the soft cushions of the couch makes you feel at ease, gazing up at your Sokovian as she mutters something under her breath. Her crimson eyes are scanning down your body, the mystical mist swirling around you two as she finishes what you realize is a spell. 

By the time she finally makes eye contact with you the forest green you adore is back, and you smile cheekily up at her. Wanda turns on the television, before settling behind you in the corner of the large couch. You’re dragged flush against her and you shiver as her breath hits your ear. “Look at the screen Detka.” Displayed on the screen is the groupchat where Natasha has FRIDAY sending you live updates of the meeting that she was in, but instead of boring notes you notice different videos and pictures of Kate. She’s in flimsy clothes and before you know it she’s on table getting played with. 

You aren’t even aware of how audible the whines coming from deep within your throat are, entirely too focused on the grumpy feeling of being left out. Cold hands slip under your shirt causing you to flinch, but the witch is rubbing comforting circles on your soft stomach. “Now Little One, settle down and Mommy will help you.” Her nails are dragging slowly and softly across your torso, tickling slightly. It’s light and usually it wouldn’t do that much for you, but your body is reacting a lot and it causes your head to swim. “You’re already so squirmy, Toy. What’s got you so worked up?” Her voice is entirely too sweet, but your brain is already so fuzzy. 

Eyelids heavy and your jaw slack as you just whimper pitifully. Trying to shove your face into her neck but her free hand grips your jaw, squishing your face as she forces you to look at the television again. She drags her nails up, giggling as your hips jerk the closer she gets to your breasts. Scratching across a strained nipple, Wanda chuckles as you whine and gasp freely but awkwardly with your scrunched up mouth. Palming at your other neglected breast, and purposely letting her arm rub against the breast she just abandoned, the brunette nips at your shoulder. “Do you want to know a secret?” 

She’s moving your head, forcing you to nod but praising you nonetheless. Her hand is traveling back down your body now but you can feel her magic now, vibrating against you as it gains power and grows. The fire that Wanda leaves whenever she touches you burns, bright and everlasting, but the way her magic sets your entire body ablaze was unmatched. Nothing felt better and it always immediately left you needy. 

Her hand is slipping into your pants, glad to have dressed you in loose clothing. She’s letting her fingers press into you as she purposefully moves flamboyantly inside the baggy sweats. The heat radiating from your dripping cunt can be felt even through your panties, useless as they were now ruined. Dragging her nail across the waistband of your cute purple underwear, courtesy of Kate, she uses her grip on your chin to turn your head some. Licking a stripe up your cheek, leaving a kiss on your temple as she smiles widely against you. “I can’t take all the credit for how drenched you are, Мой красивый ангел.” Her eyes flick towards the television, chuckling as she watches Natasha thrust the baton into the archer. It’s wet and filthy, even without the audio you can see the way the younger brunette is dripping onto the table. 

Your fuzzy mind struggles to comprehend her words, eyebrows scrunching as you try to shake your head free. The witch just tuts, humming at your measly attempt at breaking out of her grip. “Mommy…please” Your plea is jumbled, distorted by how she’s squishing your cheeks up and leaving your mouth hanging open. Drool has started falling from your lips, leaving wet marks all over your shirt. 

Even though she hasn’t touched you, you can feel the coil in your stomach is tight. The warmth in your belly is steadily rising, spreading through your body.  She’s pressing against your pelvis now, letting her fingers leave impressions as she plays with your reactions. “Moooommy pleaseee” Her voice taunts you, a high pitched fake whine falling from her overly pouty lips. 

Cloudy unfocused eyes try their hardest to search the room for anything that would give you an idea to help you persuade her to touch you, but all you see is the scarlet mist starting to settle across the entire couch. Tapping against your squishy cheek is your only warning as Wanda shoves your face back towards the screen, “Don’t worry little one, your Daddy will take care of you. Mommy is just here to make sure everything goes as planned.” 

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Watching as Kate’s body stretches to take the baton makes Natasha chuckle, but each time someone moves the archer’s muscles tense. “Still paying so much attention to those around you, little bitch? When you should be completely and fully focused on me?” Snarling down at her, the widow moves her beloved weapon faster. “I know you’re close, and I know deep down you’re already ready to beg me to cum but my sweet naive little mutt won’t be asking me. You like everyone else’s eyes on you so much so go ahead and ask them.” 

Kate’s eyes widen, body flailing a bit but the sting of the blade piercing her collarbone makes her freeze. “Хозяин, please I’ll be good.” Her body is obviously betraying her as her thighs start shaking, and broken whimpers falling from her lips as she babbles incoherently. Forest eyes blink, slowly and intently, listening to the mumbled words. 

The ginger just hovers above her, leaning heavier and heavier against her collarbone. A smug, entirely too wide smile stretches Natasha’s face. Letting the knife clatter as she drops it onto the table, the assassin leans up onto her knees before pulling the dripping wet baton out of the younger girl. “Knees now.” The command is muttered, barely audible as she waits for the brunette to shakily pull herself up. Tangling the raven hair into her fist yanking her head back until all the room could see her tear stained face, flushed as her entire body heaves trying to regain composure. 

An absolutely filthy moan tears through Kate’s throat when the widow lightly taps the baton against her clit, a small shock of electricity shooting through her body. Her entire body lurches forward, almost tumbling face first into the table but the fingers tangled in her hair keep her up on her knees. “Show off that pretty face, mutt. They all want to see it.” The baton slips a bit as Natasha tries to push it back into the archer, leaving the girl shaking in anticipation. Letting the cool metal slide through the wetness, dragging ragged breaths from the brunette before pushing the baton back into her. 

Not letting her have a moment to re-adjust, Natasha puts her entire body into rutting the weapon into Kate immediately dragging her back dangling over the edge. The pace is brutal, but it drains all of the archer’s thoughts and pulls her back under the fog. Her ocean eyes glaze over as she lets her body sway and jerk along with the widow. “Be a good slut and ask these nice people if you can come for them.” The widow’s mouth grazes against her ear, relishing in the trembles that wrack the brunette’s body. 

It takes a few minutes and a few different tries as Kate sobs her way through asking each Avenger and agent in the room, struggling through moans. Natasha mostly just gives silent praise with each person that she gets through until she sees Carol sitting forward, a muted excitement as she waits for her turn. 

A cold glare goes ignored as the captain’s entire focus is on Kate, so when it’s her turn the widow yanks the archer’s head up painfully–cutting off her words. “Now now Little Mutt, you wouldn’t wanna do something to make me mad at this point of time; would you?” The tone of her voice makes the brunette babble, sobbing out apologies and promises to skip the Kree hybrid. Once Natasha is satisfied and her counterpart has continued asking permission to the last bit of the group, the ginger focuses on pushing her farther over the edge. 

Rough and scratchy voice almost completely pulls Kate from her warm fuzzy mindset, drying her eyes almost immediately as she fights against her instincts. The way her handler is fucking into her distracts her just enough, but as the older agent speaks the nerves near the base of her neck sends pain running along her body. He’s toying with her, acting like he isn’t sure if she should be allowed to cum. Everyone else is loving it, eating up his confidence to mess with Romanoff’s property, but only the ginger sees the internal battle that the young Avenger is having. 

“Enough. You’ve lost your privilege, such a pathetic excuse of a man can’t even make up his mind.” She’s pulling Kate up, letting her adjust so that she’s comfortably laying back against her torso. The widow has her hand wrapped tightly around her throat as she thrusts the baton, roughly and as best as she can at such an awkward angle. “Ignore the rest of them little mutt. You can cum, you’re going to cum. Just for me now.” It doesn’t take much more, just the whispering against the raven haired girl’s ear to let her fall beneath that foggy wave in her head. “Cum for your хозяин. Be my good girl and cum for me.” 

It’s all too much, all too quick, as Kate’s brain starts drowning underneath the weight of her own thoughts. Her brain is fighting against the warmth and the mist that Natasha is trying to settle her into, and it’s frustrating as her body hasn’t quite caught up to her thoughts. She earned this orgasm but she won’t be able to enjoy it if her brain won’t shut off. Unsure of when a steady stream of tears started flowing down her cheeks, Kate wasn’t even sure of her own feelings and couldn’t sort her own brain out. 

She knew that her body was nearing the end of its ability to fight off the impending orgasm, and she wanted it more than anything–no she needed it this time. Through the war in her brain the archer doesn’t even realize that her body is shaking, cumming around the baton. She doesn’t even register that she's babbling out thank yous, or slouched bonelessly against Natasha. Kate doesn’t even take note of the praise, only coming back to the present when the widow’s baton leaves a searing line along her torso. 

Her eyes finally focus as she takes in the now empty room, abs still twitching from the shocks from the baton. “There’s my mutt, I thought you would be stuck in your head forever.” The widow’s voice is quiet, mumbling against her shoulder where she is looking down at her body. Slowing trailing the cum covered baton across her thighs. “You did so good for me today, but your brain went somewhere.” Blue electricity snaps as it travels along the baton, nipping at Kate’s thighs in bursts of pain. Strings of cum acting as the perfect conductor to supercharge the strikes, the pain sending the archer deeper into the fog she was searching for earlier. 

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Your legs were spread open, Wanda’s overlapping them to keep you as still as possible. Her arm was wrapped around your torso and her free hand was tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to leave your pulsepoint open. “You're so pretty when you’re desperate. Such a miserable little toy when no one is around to play with you. Isn’t that right?” Her voice is muffled against your jaw, where her teeth are nipping at the thin stretched skin. 

All of your senses are overwhelmed, the crimson smog has infiltrated your entire body and everything is just obscenely sensitive. You can barely keep your eyes open to watch the way Kate is being fucked, Natasha smug as ever; but you can feel it. Every single movement and thrust, it’s like your Daddy is right there between your legs. It’s not enough though, and Wanda knows this. Her magic leaves you wanting more, leaving you just out of reach of what you really want. 

Helpless as she holds you tight, you can feel her hardened nipples against your back and it makes you entirely too aware of the effect this is having on her. The more you wiggle against her, your butt snug against her covered center, the more she lets out feebly concealed groans but you both can feel her wetness soaking through the layers between you. 

You can feel the way Natasha is dangling Kate over the edge, the way her muscles are tight and shaky with anticipation. It isn’t enough. It’s never enough. When you feel Wanda laugh behind you, stroking at your stomach in mock comfort, you can’t help the pathetic whine that tumbles from your lips. The grip in your hair tightens when you try to look at her, only getting a flash of the ruby eyes you’re forbidden from looking into. Slipping under the waistband of your sweats, the hand that tried to comfort you teases at your neglected clit; easing under your panties. 

Begging comes easy when she swipes past the place you need most, rubbing at the spot where your thigh starts. You aren’t entirely sure what words are comprehensible, but your mouth can’t catch up to your brain. No words could truly get across what you felt, your body only feeling the ghosts of actions happening a state away short circuiting your thoughts. Seemingly Wanda takes mercy on you, letting her palm settle on your clit and two fingers to dip into you. 

She doesn’t move, not even an inch after she settles her hand comfortably. “I said I would help, but that doesn’t mean I will be doing all the work. Show Mommy how much you want to cum.” Your hips are moving before she even finishes her words, grinding down onto her. Your eyes roll back, relief flooding your system as you finally feel something real. 

Intoxication, once again, is the only way you can describe it. The way she reels you in, and lets the line out, is deliberate and smart. Leaving you hanging until you are delirious with need, a pliable toy for her to play with. She builds you up, fanning the fire that grows with each push and pull. It’s slow and leaves you completely at her mercy, brain completely flooded with thoughts of only Wanda–just as she likes and just as she knows only she can. 

It doesn’t take much, your neglected clit grinding against the calloused heel of her hand and your cunt trying to suck in her fingers with a dire need. You can just make out Kate desperately clawing at Natasha, a sure sign that she’s about to fall over the edge. You feel her orgasm building before your own, too focused on knowing what she is feeling that when your own coil shatters it’s a mindblowing surprise. The intense fire ripples out over your body, washing you in a heat that over takes your entire body as it shakes and shudders. 

Relishing in the high as you float along the overwhelming bliss it’s a complete ambush when Wanda’s hand slaps down on your pussy, sending a searing pain through your body. Startling you and effectively ending your orgasm early, the beginnings of a tantrum are on the tip of your tongue when you feel the ghost of Kate’s coil shattering. Causing an intense empty feeling, as your brain reacts to something that your body can no longer feel and you roll around in between the witch’s legs miserably. 

An unamused look is the only response you receive as she watches you, waiting for you to realize that you won’t be getting any sympathy from her. Settling for your best doe eyed look and cute pouty lip, you gaze up at Wanda. “Don’t give me that look, Malyshka. You’re lucky a ruined orgasm is all you get for how bratty you were earlier.” The tilt of her head silences your arguments, though you know that she hears them when she raises an eyebrow at you. 

Rolling her eyes, Wanda switches the television to some random animated movie with a flick of her wrist. “You did very good, Little One, but you did need to be punished. I told you that those bad thoughts you had were punishment enough for the time being, but that time expired and you needed to be reminded of your place.” Her tone was soft, but reprimanding and it made you shrink in on yourself. You knew your training and you knew what your role was in this dynamic, and while the others found amusement in your brattiness you knew that Wanda had trained you better than that. “My prized toy, this was just a bump in the road. I know we have had a few of those recently, but everything is a learning curve.” 

Nodding your head as you listen, you move around so that you can curl up on her lap. Wanting to find more comfort you shove your face into her neck, sucking on the muscle in her neck as you listen. Enjoying the way it vibrates, an extra thing to ground you, as she continues to talk. She’s deterred from her explanation, knowing there was no reason to spend too long berating you after your talk earlier as well. Instead she’s talking about her day and the random things that you have missed from your time apart. The two of you see each other most days of the week, but sometimes your schedules just don’t mix well or other plans get in the way so you always enjoyed hearing about the small details of what you may have missed. 

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

You’re half asleep curled up in the huge bed, the sounds of rain tapping against the window of the master bedroom in the penthouse when Kate starts sitting up. Shoving your face into the pillow she abandons, you try to keep your eyes closed for as long as possible but the moment she’s poking at you that idea goes out the window. “Have…you ever thought about like.. the future?” 

Rubbing at your eyes, you push yourself up to lean against her. Reaching out to grab her hands, tangling your fingers together so that she can’t tug at the loose thread on the blanket anymore. The silence wrapped around the two of you like a heavy blanket, and even though you wanted to stay awake you could feel sleep creeping back into your head. Clearing your throat, “Our future?” 

You watch as Kate’s eyes twitch, uncertainty filling her features but she stays silent. The midnight blue cloudy with sleep and fear. Tracing patterns along her arm, giving yourself some time to wake up as much as possible and put some thoughts together. “My love..” Your hand is reaching up before you realize, tilting her chin down to look at you. “I’m not going to lie. Thoughts about the general future are.. Not really in my vision right now. Most of my energy is going into finishing school and getting a raise at work.” You watch your girlfriend’s throat bob, swallowing down whatever emotion she’s feeling. “But you… you’re always right there. Nothing makes sense, all my thoughts are all over the place and I feel like I’m constantly drowning; but Kate you’re the only thing that never wavers.” 

“What…what about Wanda and Natasha?” The question lingers in the air. Your mouth opening and closing, your brain unable to wrap itself around the weight of the insinuation behind such a simple sentence. The past four years should be enough to show where you stood in their lives, but you were never one to have confidence in history. 

The clock ticks, steady, as you struggle to answer. The heavy thoughts from a few days ago are still fresh in your mind, an unhealthy habit that you never truly broke free of. No matter the words spoken to you, or sent to you since then, you can’t shake the feelings deep rooted within you. The longer the two of you sit there in silence, the faster the warmth from the comforter escapes causing you to shiver in the cold of the night. Kate is pulling you back down onto the bed, letting you curl into her. 

Sharing a lazy, sleep heavy kiss makes your heart stutter. Pulling away to see her dark eyes, illuminated in the moonlight that leaks into the room behind the curtain. Breathless as you blush furiously under her attention, her eyes spoke of all the love she held for you and the devotion was overwhelming the longer you got lost in the sparkling navy. Finally looking away you let your head fall against her chest, listening to her heart beat; smiling at the slightly too fast thumps. 

There in the silence, wrapped in the safety of the love of your life’s arms, you say the words you never dared utter out loud before. “I’m whatever they want me to be..that’s..the only thing I ever truly know of them.”

@simplysimping999 @s1ut4nat @theperfectlovestory @widowbitessting @meimei-a

[permanentmess]

confession (peter maximoff x fem!reader)

a/n: i really wanted to make a part two to this blurb/oneshot where they finally confess to each other, but then work, travel, and entering senior year of college got in the way. sorry about the delay!

this can easily be read as a stand alone + as gender neutral (i think)

word count: 645

warnings: light cussing, fluff, mentions of injuries. meant to just be short and sweet! sort of proofread

GIF NOT MINE

~~~

Despite your intense schedule last week, this week was actually quite lax. Other than the occasional training session or small homework assignment that needed to be graded, you actually were able to relax in your spare time. 

But, you hadn’t seen Peter much. He was sent on multiple missions in a row and you wished he was around. You wanted nothing more than for him to come bother you every spare moment he had, and the ache set itself in your chest the longer you thought of him. 

Shaking your head, you walk to your closet for a pair of pajamas. You grab the most recent book you had picked up from the store and rested against your pillows. The ache subsided, but didn’t leave entirely. 

You’ve been staring at the same page as you have the past five minutes when you get a knock at your door. You furrow your eyebrows, but set a bookmark in your book and open the door. Peter is standing in front of you, X-Men suit still on and hair disheveled. 

“Peter, what are you doing here? I thought you came back tomorrow,” you lean forward to give him a hug but hesitate, because you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. He did just get back from a mission, presumably, and he sometimes got overstimulated from them. 

He almost knocks you back with the force he uses to wrap you in his arms. You wrap your arms around him just as tightly and walk you both back into your room, shutting the door with a quick push of your hand. He buries his face in your neck, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. Your stomach tenses, but you push it down. 

“What?”

“Finished early, and I got hurt and something happened so Charles had me come back.” You try to pull back but he tightens his hold, if that was even possible. 

“You got hurt?”

He nods against you. “‘S nothing. Just some cuts, maybe a broken ankle, it doesn’t matter. I had to pretend I wasn’t a mutant to protect myself so I couldn’t use my powers. Good news is, I got the blueprints.” 

“Peter, what the fuck, sit down.” He won’t let go of you, but you manage to gently push him onto the edge of your bed, wanting to take the weight off of his feet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll heal pretty fast,” he says, but even to his own ears he sounds unconvinced. 

“Look at me.” He doesn’t want to leave the comfort of your warmth, but he obliges. He sees tears pooling in your eyes and feels guilty. 

“I promise it’s not that bad. I’ll get help after this, I just had to see you.” 

You continued to look at him, finally analyzing the injuries that you could see, since his body was covered. It looks like he has a black eye forming. His lip is cut open and you reach a finger up to brush the space around the injury. He reaches his hand up to hold yours to his face, so you gently run your thumb along his cheek. Peter winces slightly at the contact with another cut, right where he had placed your hand, but he craves your touch too much to focus on it. 

You’re not sure who leans forward, you’re pretty sure it’s him, but he encapsulates your lips in a gentle kiss. His lips are cracked but you don’t mind, softly running your thumb along a non-hurt part of skin. He takes this as a sign to deepen the kiss, but he quickly runs out of air and pulls back, resting his forehead on yours as he pulls your hand away from his face, holding it instead. 

“I think I may have broken some ribs,” he winces. 

“Peter!”

He grins and goes in to kiss you again.

[silverzoomies]

Monster Mash

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, zombies, biting, undead, undead!reader, gender neutral reader, zombie kink

word count: 11,996

a/n: first of three peter-centric halloween fics!! hopefully i'll get them all posted before the month ends!! timeline here is extremely fuzzy, and might not fall in line with canon. it's kind of super ambiguous.

the usual apologies: clunky writing, potentially ooc peter/other characters, inconsistencies, ending's super meh, etc etc etc. idk if peter would realistically be down to bang a cute, zombified reader. but hey, it's fiction. why the heck not!

tag list (i remembered this time!!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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October. Just a week before Halloween.

Peter didn’t celebrate the holiday too often these days. Not like he used to. Ever since he took up teaching at the X-mansion, he only participated in a handful of Halloween activities. The staple being - playing escort for mutant kiddos on trick-or-treating ventures. An activity he enjoyed a lot, since the kiddos referred to “Mr. Maximoff” as “the school's most awesome trick-or-treat buddy.” Which had nothing to do with Peter swiping a little extra candy - for the kids, of course - when the other teachers weren’t looking. Swear on his life.

Another Halloween festivity he loved? The school's annual, X-family Halloween party. The team generally left Peter in charge of decorations, considering it took him no time at all to set them up. Professor Chuck himself - legendary baldy - always played host at those parties. As per tradition - after the party died down - Peter cozied up in the living room with the team. They’d gather together to watch everyone’s favorite horror flicks on VHS.

He really couldn’t wait for this year’s festivities. Peter looked forward to those after-party, horror movie marathons every year. Movie nights with the team? Pretty freakin’ awesome. If only for two reasons: The abundance of sugary garbage to snack on. And the way Ororo loooooooved snuggling up with him on the couch. Being so hot natured helped. Living life in the fast lane - operating like a human furnace - sure had its perks sometimes. ‘Ro’s cuddling made an excellent distraction from Peter’s unbridled loneliness. Haha...

C-...Consider that a topic for another day. Moving on.

On horror movie night, Peter inevitably saw the jumpscares coming leagues before anyone else. It never failed. He’d call them seconds ahead of time. With ‘Ro lying at his side, and his arm wrapped around her waist. Peter would exclaim, “Jumpscare!”, breaking the tension heavy silence amongst the group. Spoiling whatever movie played. Everyone hated it, of course. Kurt growled at him. Animalistic, but nowhere near intimidating. Jubilee pelted Peter with popcorn.

Peter just couldn’t help himself. Those scares were so predictable and boring sometimes. Sure, he liked horror movies enough. With all the gnarly gore and twisted kills. But they never freaked him out, since he didn’t spook easily. His incomprehensible reaction time made terror a tough game.

All that being said...

Even with his totally outrageous bravery streak, Peter - guilty as charged - sure had his candy-ass moments.

This current mission proved, without a doubt, one of the spookiest situations he’d ever landed himself in. He could feel it in the air tonight. And not in the groovy, Phil Collins way either. An ominous sense of uneasiness crawled across his skin. Eerie vibes sent chills creeping up his spine like spiders through a web. Peter wished he could fast forward to Halloween night on the couch with ‘Ro. Heck, he'd even take decorating duty over this any day of the week. At least he could go all out, and have his own fun with it.

For an October’s night, the weather seemed uncannily coincidental. Drops of rain showered from a mass of black clouds. A sharp crack of lightning struck the ground, with a roar of thunder following in succession. It rattled the very foundation of the abandoned lab Peter found himself exploring. As part of a last minute, late night mission.

Below his feet, tiled floors laid in disrepair. Dirtying the mismatched laces of his untied sneakers. Peter snuck his way through murky hallways, his heightened senses buzzing on edge. Fight or flight kicked into high gear, making him all the more sensitive to any outside stimuli. Another echoing roar rumbled through the building, threatening to topple its cracking walls. Peter worried the ceiling might cave in at any moment.

A terrifying thought. But it happened to be the exact reason Hank chose Peter for this mission to begin with. Should shit hit the fan, Peter could skedaddle at the speed of light unscathed. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Unlike his other team members, who might risk being flattened like a pancake. Under the weight of, not one, but two floors above.

…Speaking of pancakes. Peter should definitely drop by a mom ‘n pop diner before heading back to base. He could really go for a fresh stack of late night hotcakes right about now. Warm and soft. With chocolate chips melting on the inside. Caked in sticky syrup and slathered with butter. Oooooh! And a little bacon on the side. Not too crispy, not too flop-

His mouth watered, and Peter blinked. Wiping his jacket sleeve across his lips, he redirected his attention to the task at hand. Focus, Quickie. He had a job to do, and he didn’t wanna be stuck doing said job all night.

The lab sat nestled off the coast of some island with a foreign name. Super hard to pronounce. Peter couldn’t remember it off the top of his head. Prior to this assignment, he’d never even heard of the place. But apparently, neither had anyone else. Hank sent Peter in search of what he dubbed leads on a mystery project. Something to do with scientific documents.

If he found any, he’d read their info over to Scott. Who would then relay that same intel back to Hank. Like an insanely boring game of telephone. Why Peter couldn’t speak to Hank directly was anybody’s guess. Too busy with his super secret project thingy-majig, possibly?

Hanging from Peter’s stereo belt alongside his old Walkman, a walkie screeched with a shrill chirp. A shock of alarm shot straight through Peter’s veins, making him jump. Scott’s voice crackled from the speakers.

“Any updates, Pete?” Scott asked, “Tell me anything you got. Even if it seems boring. Just hit me with it. It’s gotta be better than waiting around here in the lab, doing nothing.”

Peter held a compact flashlight in one hand, searching the lab’s pitch black halls. Most of the rooms he passed looked desolate. Barren and dusty. Save for the odd desk or empty cabinet. Peter wondered if they’d all been ransacked when the place closed down. The ceiling leaked rain from the floors above, dripping onto Peter’s bomber jacket. At the edge of his vision, he caught a rat scurrying by. But otherwise, not much else.

Pulling the walkie from his belt, he brought it up to his lips, “Uh. It’s dark and kinda spooky here. Saw a rat. Storm’s not gettin’ any better. It keeps shakin’ the whole place.” Peter shook his head, “If it doesn’t let up, I’m gonna have to split. Don’t wanna wait around to see what happens next, y’know? Over."

On the other end of the line, Scott breathed an annoyed sigh. Even through low-quality speaker fuzz, Peter could tell the sigh lacked any real spite.

“Peter. We’ve been over this. We aren’t using decades old, two-way radio communication. You really don’t have to say over. ”

Peter drummed his free hand on an empty desk. Following the beat of Sweet Poison by Naked Eyes, as it played from the only earbud he wore. He wanted to keep one ear open, just to hear Scott clearly. And mayhaps because he felt the teensy weensiest bit paranoid by his lonesome in the lab.

“Copy that. Over.” He grinned to himself.

The further Peter explored the lab’s halls, thick layers of mucky green seemed to take over. If he had to guess, he assumed Hank didn’t consider masses of moss “key intel.” Every few feet Peter stepped, he tore his way through another wall of cobwebs. Lots and lots of creepy cobwebs. Reduced to undying boredom, Peter took to karate chopping them. Might as well have fun in the face of ennui.

Half second flickers of lightning cast the lab in gleaming flashes. Bringing Peter’s attention to more rooms he missed. He wandered through some old offices. Or what he thought were offices, anyway. The trashed state of the rooms made it hard to tell. Nothing within them had withstood the test of time. Peter even tried poking around with some clunky computers. No luck. Dead as doornails.

“Found some computers. C64’s, I think. Haven’t seen one ‘a these bad boys since forever ago. But they’re totally busted.” Peter reported into the walkie, banging a fist onto one of the computers, “Yep. Busted. Over.”

Before leaving the room, Peter fucked around. Knocking over a computer monitor for no reason at all. He snatched a few, grubby pens from a lone desk. As well as a cracked coffee mug that read “I try to tell chemistry jokes, but there’s no reaction.” Just for the heck of it. Why not swipe some keepsakes, eh?

After what felt like a geological age of scouring, Peter eventually stumbled upon more filing cabinets. Stuffed to the brim with research documents and science-y records. Sighing, he pulled each drawer open one by one. Peter read the dusty files, sharing intel with Scott over the walkie. For every document Scott dismissed, Peter tossed them carelessly aside over his shoulder.

Antsy to wrap the mission up, grab some pancakes, and race home for a game of GoldenEye; Peter rushed through the last few folders. In hopes of finding whatever specific file Hank needed. But upon the last one, Scott broke some totally bogus news.

“Sorry about this.” Scott sighed, “Those files? Yeah. Hank says they’re all duds. No dice. You think it’s safe to keep looking? You might have to check the second floor.” He mentioned, to Peter’s dismay.

Peter bumped his head into the filing cabinet, groaning aloud. With a kick of his foot, he closed the last drawer and trudged onward. Oh well. The speedster could totally manage. At least he brought mix-tapes to keep his mind occupied. Along with extra tapes stashed in his belt pockets for good measure. Without music, he’d be so outrageously miserable on a mission like this.

Shining the dinky flashlight, he scanned the first floor area one more time. Just to be sure. The flashlight’s glow passed a set of double doors, leading to-

Wait. Back it up a sec. Double doors? Quietly singing New Order’s Blue Monday to himself, Peter moonwalked backwards to observe the doors again. Knitting his brows, he blinked. Stumped.

“Yo. Scotty. Got another room on the first floor. Gonna check it out real quick. Over.” Peter reported, clicking the walkie into place on his belt.

Another echo of thunder rattled through the lab, shaking the floors above. Lightning illuminated the halls in temporary flickers of white. Peter stared at the large set of doors, totally bamboozled. He couldn’t comprehend how he missed them before. When he knew for a fact he checked every nook and cranny. Inching closer, he eyed a sign pasted on one of the doors. In a rough scratch of permanent marker, the sign read:

Reanimation experiments in progress. Do not disturb!!

Reanimation? What, like…of the dead? Pfffbt. No way! Could this spooky place get any spookier? Peter swallowed an uncomfortable wedge in his throat. Shaking off any chills threatening to overtake him, he shined his flashlight through one of the door’s windows. Peter scanned the area for anything useful.

Inside, he clocked an operating table. Close to that, a lone cart cluttered with rusty, surgical tools. Cracked computer screens lined one of the walls, more advanced than they should’ve been. At least for the era they originated. Tangled cables ran along the floor, leading to something in the shadows. Peter couldn’t make it out.

He arched a brow, finally locking his sights on - Aha! Jackpot! More filing cabinets. Hopefully, they held his ticket out of this creepy place. Fingers crossed. Peter burst into the room in a flash, kicking up dust in his wake. Tearing through another wall of cobwebs, he surveyed the area again. Making a mental note of every cabinet he could see. Enough to keep him busy for the next hour, he guessed. Peter slumped his shoulders, huffing an aggravated groan.

Talking to Scott through the entire process made it more bearable. Being so no nonsense and straight forward, Scott had no problem retaining the info Peter shared from every file. Which saved the speedster any hassle of repeating himself, or having to explain things he didn’t understand. Science? Not really Peter's area of expertise. He thought himself more of a tech, or music guy.

Luckily enough, Peter found whatever documents Hank sent him after. A deep dive into every folder, in every drawer, in about a dozen different cabinets were all it took. Had Peter aged another thirty years? He sure as hell felt like it. No sweat! Mission accomplished. Time to bid the old lab goodbye.

Peter flew through the rest of the cabinets in less than a second’s time. Triple checking for any intel Hank might find compelling. He skimmed some records documenting the “reanimation of dead tissue.” Hm. Actually, blue beastie might potentially find that fascinating. “Reanimation” of the dead didn’t exactly sound too commonplace in modern science, did it?

In a folder, Peter discovered a file. Clipped with a photograph of - hellllllllooooo there! Someone…kinda cute. Very cute. Peter whistled, piercing the quiet thrum of distant rain. He read on.

Oh. The cute someone. They died. Tragically perished. Hit by a car back in the 80’s. What a bummer. One of the scientist's brought them to the lab as a test subject. Used for some twisted experiment in reanimation. The kicker? They proved to be the lab’s first and only successful trial run. Of around fifty different, reanimation trials. Yikes. That's...a lotta dead bodies.

These scientists successfully revived the dead? Peter doubted it. Over a decade had passed since then, and no one ever used the technology mentioned in the files. This lab's research couldn’t be as successful as they documented. Or something must've gone wrong, for them to give up and shut down the lab's operation completely.

Yeah. Treating human corpses like science fair projects for school? Super warped. Hank, wacky in his science ventures, totally found macabre shit like that interesting. Shrugging, Peter tucked the manilla folders he gathered under an arm. He grabbed his walkie, and reported to Scott.

“I got somethin’ else Hank might be into. It's totally messed up, he'll love it. But-uh…if that’s all he needed? I’m gonna jet now, ‘kay? I can’t take another minute in this scary ass place. Over and out.”

Before making his leave, Peter glanced around the room one last time. He appeared near the operating table in a picosecond, his brown eyes scanning the cart next to it. Curiously, Peter picked through some rusty, surgical tools.

Upon finding a scalpel in fairly okay condition, he swiped the tool and slipped it inside his back pocket. Whistling to Oingo Boingo's No One Lives Forever - in hindsight, kind of ironic - playing from his Walkman, Peter raised a foot to kick the cart. Watching it roll away into a nearby wall. Hasta la vista.

As Peter steered away from the operating table, a monstrous shadow loomed at the edge of his vision. His heart rampantly pounded in his chest, his senses still high strung. Jumping back with a terrified gasp, Peter climbed halfway onto the operating table. He fumbled for his flashlight, pointing the glow at the massive bundle of darkness. The light shook in Peter’s trembling hand.

But it-...oh. Phew! Nothing to be afraid of. Hah. What the heck was Peter gettin’ riled up for?

Like something straight out of science fiction, Peter’s shadowy monster proved nothing more than a giant pod. He squinted, moving towards it until close enough to observe it more clearly. The tech appeared big enough to hold a person of his size. Or, hell, maybe even someone of Beast’s size. Peter ran a hand along the surface of the pod, gathering a layer of dust on his fingertips. Scowling, he shuddered, wiping the dust on his jeans. “ EUGH! Eck-” Peter exclaimed to no one, “What’s up with this dusty, old thing??” Glass encased the outer layer of the large machine. It might've been see-through, if not for the unsanitary grime blanketing the entire thing. Years upon years of soot build up. Peter tried wiping the dust away with his elbow, to no avail. He couldn’t see inside, even with the aid of his flashlight.

Puzzled, Peter darted around the room in a silver blur, searching for clues. A switch of some kind? A secret code? He tampered with everything from the cracked monitors on the wall, to the colorful cables lining the floor. Peter even tried prying the pod open with a rusty hammer he found. Still, it refused to budge. Even with the power of speedster strength. Was it made of adamantium or something?

Sighing, defeated, Peter tossed the hammer away. It crashed into one of the screens hanging against the wall. Shattering the crystal display upon impact. Whoops. Oh well. How much more damage could be done to the place? Not like anyone would be making renovations anytime soon. Not in the middle of buttfuck nowhere island.

Making an accidental misstep, Peter slipped on his untied shoelaces. His ankle entangled itself in a circle of cables on the floor, and he lost his balance. Tripping, Peter stumbled backwards into some busted machinery, knocking his head. His back collided with the hard, metal surface behind him.

“ Auuugh. Shit.” Peter muttered. He didn’t understand how he could be so goddamn clumsy all the time, given - what the professor called - his mutant gift, “Ow. Dammit.”

He must have triggered a switch when he tripped. Suddenly, a loud hiss seethed through the air like a bus braking to a stop. A slow moving cloud of smoke rose from inside the pod. As it spread, filling the room, the fumes turned radioactive neon in color. It swarmed Peter’s nostrils, overflowing his senses with an earthy scent.

“Uhhh…uh oh.” He mumbled, “Is that supposed to happen?” Acting in haste, Peter scrambled to free his ankle from the cable’s tight grip.

A corpse reanimation research lab.

Nope. Noooope. He’d seen Return of the Living Dead enough times to know - whatever the hell’s happening now? Bad news. Couldn’t be good. Peter suppressed the urge to scream like a frightened child. A buzzing voice chimed from his walkie, startling him further. Dammit all, Scotty! He almost sent Peter into cardiac arrest for a hot second.

“Peter? Hey-uh, are you there? You alright? You didn’t stop somewhere for pancakes again, did you?” Scott crackled through the walkie, but Peter didn’t respond, “Better bring enough back for the whole class.” He joked, sarcastic.

Peter gawked at the sight before him in a mix of horror and confusion. Completely petrified, as Oingo Boingo played through his ear. The neon smoke emitted from the pod began to clear, revealing a body inside. A dead body.

Your dead body, to be specific.

Somehow, Peter recognized you. But that didn’t make any sense at all. He knew for a freakin’ fact he’d never seen or met you a day in his life. Unless… oh. Oh, holy shit. He hurriedly grabbed the extra folder he’d taken and opened it, just to glance between you, and the photo inside. And sure enough… The first and only successful trial run in reanimation.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Peter’s eyes blew open wide. His stomach dropped twenty thousand feet through the ground, plummeting to the Earth’s core. Swallowing thickly, he observed your slumbering body from his position on the dirty floor.

Your skin appeared ashier than it naturally should be. Y’know, on account of being dead and all. It more closely resembled a subdued, greenish color. Kinda Frankenstein-esc. Stitches lined each and every one of your limbs. As if some psycho nut job took you apart and sewed you back together again. Judging by the info in your file, they probably did. Embedded into your neck, were two bolts on either side. Also very Frankenstein-esc. You reminded him of a wax dummy on the set of some low-budget, horror flick. It’d be kinda funny, if he didn’t feel seconds away from screaming in horror.

You could be a dummy, if Peter had any luck. Yeah. This mission? Surely just a super elaborate prank set up by the team. Like a haunted house tour, made to scare the silver pants off him. Those sly dogs think they’re so slick, huh? ...R-Right?

Peter took a deep breath, keeping his terrified gaze fixed on you. In his ear, the funky tune came to an end. The lab fell into a deafening silence. Only broken by the faintest pitter patter of rain, and a quiet clamor of thunder now echoing at a distance. Signaling the passing of the storm. One less thing to worry about.

Though, he’d much rather agonize over a building’s foundation crumbling. He could handle a weather-related disaster wayyy better than a zombie coming to life, to - potentially - gorge on his flesh.

Raising his flashlight, he pointed the glow at your lifeless body. Again, Peter breathed a long sigh to ease his panic stricken nerves. An interference of crackling static ripped through the walkie then. Loud, and shrill enough to cut glass. At that very moment, your eyes - once locked in eternal slumber - popped open freakishly wide.

Oh. Oh hellllll no. Fuck that. Fuuuuck that.

Peter’s hunch proved totally right. You weren’t just dead. You were undead.

“ Mmmmmm nope.” Peter mumbled to himself, swiftly shaking his head, “Nuh uh. Nope.”

Shaking with adrenaline, he glanced between your dead-eyed gaze, and his trapped foot. Okay! No problem-o! Not a problem at all. For an X-Man, zombies made an easy foe, right? Peter could totally just-...

Just vamoose! Make a break for it! Right now!

Like, now.

Peter hadn’t run away yet. Why hadn’t he run away? Hellllloooo? Ground control to Quickie! Time to make a quick exit, and head for the hills. Lest he become zombie chow.

Stunned, Peter remained petrified. In an uncannily slow movement, you rose from the pod like Nosferatu out of a coffin. Peter cursed under his breath, willing his terror to take a one way ticket outta there. He needed to come to his senses, and fast. Even as Peter tried to move, his paralyzed state caused him to fumble again. His movements lacked their natural fluidity, and his blood ran cold.

Like a total doofus, in his failed attempt to escape, Peter tangled his foot even deeper through the cables. Sometime in the last thirty seconds or so, he dropped his flashlight. Within the inky darkness, he could barely make out your shape as you moved. You groaned a long, croaky sound. Guttural, like an eldritch abomination.

Another crash of lightning showered your living corpse in a white luster. Peter made direct eye contact with you. A gaze between life and death.

A yell vibrated through his lungs and bounced off the walls of the room, as Peter finally screamed. Your slow moving, zombified body climbed from the pod much like a spider. Stumbling at first, you connected your bare feet with the dirty, tiled floor. Once you found your balance, a cracking sound erupted from your limbs. Your bones clicked and popped audibly into place. Peter scowled, physically cringing.

Another scream tore from the depths of his chest, “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” He shouted.

You dragged your feet in a limp, moving towards Peter with a slow gait. Stitched arms reached out for him in an unhurried motion, “ Luhhhhhhhh- ” You choked on a groggy gurgle.

Fuck. Fucking shit fuck. You definitely wanted to feast on his juicy brains and smooth flesh. No denying that. It had been, like, a decade since you last ate anything. And Peter probably looked like one hell of a snack right about now. Not even in a totally kinky way.

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! Hold yer horses there, baby! Yer gettin’ a liiiitttle too close fer comfort now! C’mon, huh? Do you really think I’m on the menu? ‘Cuz trust me. If yer gonna eat somebody? I shouldn’t be yer first choice! I really don’t taste all that great!” Peter yelled, throwing a hand out momentarily before returning to the tangled cables. He huffed an uneasy laugh, “SHIT! Yer not listening, are you? Ahaha! Yer gonna eat me. Totally gonna eat me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-”

Peter tore at the cables wrapped around his foot. Acting as quickly as his petrified state would allow, he pulled the scalpel from his back pocket. But the dull razor’s edge refused to cut through the wires. Dropping the useless tool, he ripped into the cables one more time using all his strength. Only to free himself a millisecond too late. Always late. You lurched forward, making grabby hands. 

Quicksilver vs. an actual, real life zombie. If he made it out alive, that’d make one helluva story.

But-

Wait a damn minute. Hold the freakin’ phone. Why were you…looking at him like that?

The glazed over eyes of a living corpse opened up, all big and doe-like. Gazing at Peter in - no mistaking it - infatuated fondness. Your supple lips parted with a wide smile of pure delight. Like sunshine peeking through hazardous, storm clouds. You leapt forward unexpectedly, squeaking a raspy squeal. Burrowing your face into the warmth of Peter’s chest, you linked your arms around his neck. Holding onto him tight.

“What the-” He whispered, looking down at your messy head of hair.

Uh. Okay. So, that just happened. Weird. Why weren’t you feasting on his flesh? Wasn’t he supposed to be your first meal since zombie hibernation, or something? Didn’t you wanna go chomp chomp chomp, and turn his guts into mush?

Peter realized, looking at you up close, you appeared perfectly clean and preserved. You didn’t reek like a dead body. The earthy scent on your cold skin wasn’t too unpleasant either. It smelled herbal. Floral, even. Your smooth skin lacked any signs of rot. Aside from one or two lesions revealing rib or arm bones. Kinda...freakishly cool. The surface of your skin looked see-through, with veins weaving underneath like intricate wiring.

A little spooky, sure. But not all that scary to look at, surprisingly enough. Not like Peter expected, anyway. As you snuggled closer into Peter’s body, he began to realize how oddly affectionate you were. Very out of character, for a zombie. You squeaked an unintelligible noise, attempting to communicate. But you just couldn’t form the words. Maybe your speech capabilities fizzled out after years and years of unending silence.

Peter creased his brows, lowering his defenses and calming himself down. Another thirty seconds passed. His brains remained intact, and you hadn’t made him your next meal. He pulled the earbud from his ear, hooking them around his neck and pressing pause on the Walkman. Craning your neck back, your glassy eyes met Peter’s own. You grinned so big and joyful, gleaming the innocence of a pure-of-heart, golden retriever. Despite being totally bizarre, Peter found your sweetness...sorta...weirdly cute.

“Uhmmm…hi? Hey. Uh-why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” He laughed, a little uneasy.

Maybe your affection stemmed from something simple. If Peter were locked up in a cramped pod for so many years, he’d be ecstatic if someone finally freed him. You were probably just uber thankful he’d broken you outta that pod thingy. And you showed gratitude through touching, since you couldn’t exactly flurry him with thank yous. He could accept that. Sure. For now.

The walkie hanging from his belt droned a buzz, and Scott’s voice called out. Peter finally reached for it, maneuvering between his body and yours. Your arms stayed around his neck, your body hanging like a stubborn monkey’s from a tree.

“Peter? Do you copy? Peter, are you there, man? Talk to us. Please. Should we send someone over to assist?” Scott asked, his voice itching with alarm. “Yeah! Yeah, nah. Uh-hey, Scotty! Hey, I’m here. I’m oka-...dude, it’s fine. Nothin’ to worry about. Seriously. But…I do kinda have a situation here? Over.” Peter replied.

Scott exhaled a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. In the crackling background of the walkie, Peter heard Jean’s voice. She asked, “Did he say over ?” Followed by a series of hushed chuckles. Peter smirked to himself.

“Oh! Oh my god. Thank goodness, Pete. We were all getting pretty worried about you over here. What’s going on? Are you still at the lab? You said there was a situation. What kind of situation? Did that old place finally cave in?” Scott asked. Many, many questions.

Peter heard even more frantic, muffled conversations in the background. While he couldn’t understand them, he recognized the voices. The entire team had gathered, just to make sure he made it out alive. Awww. How sweet. They were worried about lil ol’ him? If Peter hadn’t had the bejesus scared out of him not even five minutes ago, his heart would’ve melted.

“Heyyyy, guys! Uhhhh…soooo…I might’ve found, like, a zombie? No joke. Like, a real zombie. But it’s not tryna kill me. It’s-” Peter paused, raising a brow. You fluttered your lashes, giving him a coquettish look, “Bro, I think it’s makin’ eyes at me. Legit. Kinda weird, right? Definitely not what I was expecting. But it’s totally fine. I got it all under control now. Over.”

A long silence fell amongst the walkie’s noise. Until Scott finally responded in monotone.

“Did we hear you wrong, or did you just say you found a zombie?” He asked, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief. As if expecting Peter to say - Psych! Fooled ya!

Peter parted his lips to confirm. But the abrupt tickle of a chilly kiss on his neck silenced him. You stood up on your bare toes, giggling sweetly. Across his hot skin, you peppered your chapped lips. Instantly, Peter froze in place again. Shudders rang through his body. He reached for one of your arms, tugging you to try and pull you off him.

“Uhm. Y’know what? It’s no big deal. B-But yeah, it’s a zombie fer sure.” Peter tugged your arm with more insistence, urging you to let go. But you persisted, giggling into the crook of his neck, “Like I said. No worries here. It’s not like I’m in da- haaah okayokayokay-”

Your feather light kisses became soft, kitten licks. Flicking Peter’s flesh with your slimy tongue, you squealed, tickled pink. Peter jolted, shivers sizzling down his spine. He tilted his neck to the side, wincing. Over the walkie, he heard Hank’s gruff voice.

“Peter! It’s Hank-” The blue beast said, as if Peter couldn’t already tell based on his growly tone, “Are you a hundred percent sure the undead creature isn’t dangerous?” He asked, buzzing through a scratch of interference.

Coldness slathered and swirled Peter’s neck in slow circles. Fluttering his eyes closed, he replied, “N-Not dangerous. Ohhhh. Definitely not dangerous. No danger here. All good. Over.” Again, he tried to pull you off.

Your discolored arms tightened their hold around his neck and over his shoulders. Cooing noises dripped from your tongue like honey, so sugary sweet. You swiped his skin with your tongue, nuzzling your cold nose into the heated crevice of his neck. Pressing your body closer into his, you squirmed, littering him with zombie kisses.

Peter tensed, apprehensive of your affections. He didn’t want to be too harsh or aggressive towards you. Worried that any sign of conflict might make you snap. For all he knew, you might go bonkers and brain hungry. Really, he should’ve gotten it over with and pushed you away. Before you took things a little too far. And you did. Your teeth sank into his neck, lightly nibbling his flesh. As you pressed yourself even closer into his proximity, your breasts - covered only by a ragged crop top - met the swell of his broad chest. WOOOOOAH! Talk about twisted! Sure, okay, maybe your bites turned him on, like, a little. Flooding his body with a pleasant, all-over shudder of pleasure. But he couldn’t just fold for a zombie, could he? That’d be disgusting!

It’d be gross, right?

A subconscious desire in the recesses of his lonesome mind told him he wanted - no, needed - the attention. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone like this since the pogs fad. Easy, now, Peter! Down, boy.

But…shit. As much as he wanted to give in, he couldn’t. Not for a monster. A living corpse, left cooking in a secluded pod for a decade. Cloaked in discoloration and held together by expertly crafted stitching. Not entirely mindless, but so dense, you hadn’t the forethought to ask - “What happened? Where am I? Who are you?” No. Instead, you went after him the moment you saw him, showering him in bubbly, zombie lovin’.

He…shouldn’t find that hot. His fingers shouldn’t be tightening around the walkie, and his groin shouldn’t feel as scorching as it does. Oh, man. Could Peter be any more doomed? He’d have to be mad desperate - way out of his mind - to reciprocate your affection. Raising the walkie again, he cleared his throat.

“Hiya, Beastie. A-Acutally, I think they-...the zombie really, really likes me.” Peter added for no reason at all. You nibbled him a little harder, and he winced again.

“Well, now! That’s good then, isn’t it? Better than the alternative, I’d say! If at all possible, Peter, you should bring the creature with you. I’d like to look it over. Maybe run some tests. Figure out what brought it to life! This could be the secret to reversing brain death!” Hank chimed, excited.

Peter rolled his eyes. Of course Hank wanted to poke and prod at you like some little, lab rat. He opened his mouth to respond, but choked before he could get a word in. Your dull teeth clamped roughly into his neck. Peter braced a free hand on your hip, his thumb digging into the cool, exposed flesh there. Now, suspicion began to dawn on him.

You could be a clever, little zombie. Capable of luring Peter in with flirtatious wiles and sweet touches. Once he let his guard down, what if you planned on tearing into his guts? Well played, smarty pants zombie. Well played. But Peter caught onto your little game. You couldn’t get anything past him.

Instead of slurping his blood like a 7-Eleven slushie, or ripping your nails into his taut muscles; you suckled his skin lovingly. Pulling tiny hickies into his neck. Squealing and giggling in that girlish fashion, playful with every nibble. Peter gulped, biting his lip between his teeth. No way in hell he allowed a zombie to give him hickies.

…Except he did. So what? No harm in it, right?

“Y-Yeah. Sure. I’m good. Great. Just hangin’ out with my new zombie buddy. It’s totally not gonna eat my brains. Like, zero percent chance I’m gonna die an ugly, zombie death. So, y’know, Beastie, don’t lose any sleep over it.” Peter responded, before following it up with a condescending, “Over.”

On the walkie line, Peter heard a series of groans and faint giggles. Followed by Hank’s voice, as he passed the walkie back to Scott. The X-Men’s laser eyed leader sighed, his tone unamused.

“Whatever, Peter. Just…just hurry up, will you? And bring those documents over for Hank. Thanks.”

Peter tried, and failed to keep his composure. A cutie pie zombie kept macking on him like a lovesick puppy, and he had no clue what to make of it. You sucked more sloppy, violet marks into his neck. Tugging his skin with your teeth and nibbling like you couldn’t get enough of him. Peter’s skin flared up in cold creeps, as you trailed your chilly lips to his shoulder. Pulling his jacket and the collar of his shirt aside, you spoiled him in more undead affection.

“Gotcha. Copy that. Ov- mmm -” Peter whispered a moan, replying with a rushed, “Overandout.”

He clipped the walkie back onto his belt. Attempting once more to pry you off him, Peter gave your arm a strong tug. A little more forceful this time around. As you finally dislodged yourself from his neck, Peter took a few steps back. Avoiding any stray cables on the floor.

Now, with some distance between the two of you, he cleared his throat. Peter brought a hand to his neck, grazing fingers over the love bites you left behind. Tiny splotches of purple pooled with offsets of scarlet. Faint teeth marks left grooves in his skin. He hissed.

Giving you the freedom to pepper him with hickies might not have been the smartest idea. Hopefully, you didn’t infect him with some sick, zombie disease. One with the potential to end humanity as he knew it. He couldn’t cope with the weight of that responsibility on his shoulders.

You gawked up at him with those big, adoring eyes. Excitedly, you squealed, hopping towards him with your eager arms outstretched. Hoping to pull Peter into another close hug, just so you could litter him in more nibbly, love bites. He raised an abrupt hand, maintaining distance. Peter cleared his throat again. His cheeks burned hot, doused in bright pink.

Totally not fair, the way an overly affectionate zombie got him blushing.

“L-Listen. Uh. Yer sweet, but-” Peter started. Subconsciously, his gaze drifted down your body. He observed the stitches sewn into your neck and limbs. His dark chocolate eyes followed the rips and tears in your skimpy shirt. The flimsy garment revealed a tiny peek of your - admittedly pretty - breasts. And Peter swallowed, his throat running dry, “Uhhh…you can’t keep doin’ this, okay? The-” He wiggled his long fingers, gesturing to his neck, “The hickie thing. If yer gonna come with me, we gotta lay down some ground rules. Alright? You get me, babe?”

You tilted your head to the side, blinking slowly. Gazing at Peter with a look that told him you didn’t understand. But you didn’t seem to give a shit either way. You reached for one of his hands, a dazzled smile curling into your lips. Purring a candied noise of affection, you brought his hand to your cheek and nuzzled his palm. Your lips gently kissed each fingertip. Peter pulled a face, knitting his silver brows.

“Why’re you so damn-” He shook his head, “Whatever. Listen. Can you, like, chill out? No biting, you understand?” Peter paused to make a chomping gesture, clicking his teeth. But this only made you giggle. Which, unfortunately, he found super infectious.

Peter chuckled, scoffing playfully, “Stop that! I’m totally serious! No biting. No licking. No kissing. Like this. You see this?” He gestured to the hickies on his neck, their trail leading under his shirt, “No more ‘a that, you feel me? I dunno how I’m gonna explain this to the crew back home. They’re gonna think we got, like, freaky ‘er somethin’. Yeah. Can you imagine that? Like I’d ever fool around with-”

Fluttering your off colored lashes, you tilted your head to the other side. You parted your chapped lips, squealing as you edged his fingertips into your mouth. Pressing the salty pads to your bitter tongue.

“Oh! EUCK! Gross! Don’t-” Peter scowled, jerking his hand from you in less than a millisecond. With a horrified look, he observed his fingers as if they were germ-infested specimens, “Yer a real weird one, babe.”

His guard fell. While Peter kept his perplexed eyes on his fingers, you leapt forward. Burying your face deep into the fabric of his shirt, you squealed. Gleeful and bubbly. Peter groaned, only half-annoyed. He made a move to push you off him again. But your precious, little purring noises changed his mind. Peter couldn’t find it in himself to put his foot down.

Turns out he had a weakness. Cute, overly affectionate zombies. Who woulda thought?

Whatever. Peter had wayyy more important things on his plate. He knew he should gather up those folders he dropped, along with anything else he lost during his freak out session. Once he did, he needed to get the two of you out of this dingy, old lab asap.

“ Mmmmm …n-need…” You hummed your first word, before squealing, “Loooooove~!” Your voice strained, rattling like you’d been pounding down cigarettes by the plenty.

Peter’s eyes widened, and he let his sizeable hands fall to your hips, “Di-...wait a sec, did you just talk? Holy shit! You can talk?” Peter asked, dumbfounded, “Woah! Wow. Uh…so…you got a name? Can you at least tell me yer name?”

Your case file hadn’t listed your name, leaving you reduced to a number. Pretty messed up, if anyone were to ask Peter. Either you still didn’t understand him, or you couldn’t remember your own name. Instead of giving him an answer, you nuzzled your face in his chest. You tittered, so soft and smitten, your ragged voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Cold, tiny zombie hands tickled the back of his neck, raking gentle nails down his torso.

Standing on your toes, you connected your cool lips with his neck all over again. You kissed your previous love bites, as if doing so would heal them entirely. Ashamed of himself for letting it happen, Peter stifled a groan.

"Y-...You don't remember yer name, do you?" He mumbled. Peter's strong arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in, "That is...a seriously messed up situation. But, hey, I'm here fer you. Don't worry, 'kay? We'll get you to a safe place, and you can start over there. Sound good?" His caring nature shined through. But male horniness abruptly overshadowed it, as your wet tongue tickled his skin.

A guilty part of him, overrun with sympathy, felt bad for you. Those scientists hadn’t treated you like the victim of an unfortunate accident. More like a toy. Meant to be ripped apart, played with, and abandoned. It seemed wrong to perceive you in a frisky light. But then again…you wanted love. You may as well have been begging for it.

Love. One of the first words you spoke since your undead coma. Not that much of a surprise, if he thought about it. As a science experiment, loneliness probably consumed you. Even before your decade-long slumber. In a way, Peter understood. He too felt haunted by a longing for affection for far, far too long. In his mind, that made the two of you kindred spirits.

Ahhhh …dammit. Peter just couldn’t resist you and your sweet wiles anymore. His self control steadily slipped from his weakened grasp.

“ Mmmmm! Wa-....waaaant…love~! Neeeed… mmm …lo-....love~!” You squeaked, your cold tongue curling over a fresh, purple mark.

“C’mon, baby. We can’t-...you really have to stop this. We gotta head back to base, like, now. Everyone’s waitin’ on me, and I-” Peter muttered, and you pulled back. Gazing at him with that mystified, doe eyed look. Like you saw the beauty of the cosmos in him, and him alone. Your lips sparkled, wet from your lovin’. Peter clutched your hips firmly. His jeans seemed...somehow tighter all of a sudden, “Would ya stop lookin’ at me like that?”

“Looooooove~?” You cooed, your voice taking on a lustrous, but groggy tone.

“Yeah. I know. But…” Peter sighed, letting his hands feel up and down your curvy sides, “Yer gonna get me in soooo much trouble. But, fine. You win, okay? What kinda love are we talkin’ 'bout here, babe? You wanna hug? Want me to-uhm…to plant one on you? Is that it?”

You perked up then. Peter took it as a sign you understood him, more than you let on before. He arched a brow. At this point, why even hold back? Because you were dead? So what! Who ever said zombies couldn’t be smokin’ hot?

If he messed around with you just a little, no one would ever know. Which…made the concept even more enticing. You could be his little secret. An affectionate secret he’d forever bury in the ground. In place of the grave those scientists never gave you.

Peter fluttered his eyes closed, finally giving in to your closeness entirely. Lowering his big hands, he grabbed your ass. His palms squeezed over the torn, booty shorts you wore. Never did he imagine - upon exploring some horror movie, science lab - he’d feel up a cutie pie corpse’s plump bottom by the end. What a way to end a mission. Life worked in some wildly bizarre ways sometimes.

Kissing a zombie? Not as gross as he thought it’d be.

Okay. Maybe for, like, half a second. But the earthy taste on Peter’s lips didn’t faze him much. Once he pushed past the initial ick, he embraced you fully. Peter decided he didn’t give a flying fuck how unsanitary zombie smooches might be. Uncoordinated lip motions lured him in further. Pinkish teeth grazing his bottom lip between kisses. Soon enough, they turned sloppy, and Peter found himself frenching the living dead.

Zombie make out session. An experience he hadn’t planned to check off his bucket list. But now, he could.

One of his hands gripped your ass. While his other held your face and pulled you in for more tongue action. In the midst of swapping spit, you sought every opportune moment to nibble him. Peter couldn’t help but be super into it. You mewled softly, giggling when he gave your booty a hard squeeze. Chuckling, he parted from your lips to look over your greenish face. Your eyes bulged so big and wide, pupils an off-grey color and impossibly huge. Wonderstruck by his very existence. Darting down to capture your lips again, Peter stumbled forward. He guided your body towards the operating table, knocking you into it. Your hips collided with the edge, causing a loud, vibrating clang. The rough motion worried him enough, he stopped sucking face just to confirm you were alright. Peter feverishly kissed your cold lips, his hands exploring your body. Feeling stitched skin under his fingers.

You pulled from him with a joyous squeal, but Peter followed. Confused as to why you stopped, until you dove for the untarnished side of his neck. Dull flats of your teeth chomped straight into his flesh, grinding a little too roughly for comfort. Peter winced with a start, ceasing his love on your bootylicious bottom.

“N-No! Noooo! Hey, baby, look at me.” Peter snapped his fingers to get your attention. Not that he wanted to be so demanding. But you needed to understand his boundaries, before you tore into his flesh and guzzled his blood. Instantly, you reacted, retracting your teeth from his neck. You moved to make eye contact, and Peter fixed you with a soft gaze, “What’d I tell you, huh? Look, it’s not that I can’t appreciate some neckin’. 'Cuz I totally can. And I really dig it. Like, a lot. But you can’t be munchin’ on me! Really freaks me out when you do that.”

You angled your head again, curious. Doe eyes gaped at him with fluttering lashes, innocently confused, “ Mmm. Giv-....Giiiiive…love?” You croaked, pawing at Peter’s chest over his shirt, acting so needy.

He couldn’t begin to understand what you meant, or what you imagined love to be in your head. Were you really so desperate to bite him? Or, were you asking for something else? Wanton, bedroom eyes dawned your pretty face. Plush, ashy lips parting. You pawed his chest again, your blunt nails scraping across his shirt. In your desperation to communicate your-uhm…needs, you jutted your hips forward into his jeans. “L-L…Lo-” You started, throaty voice oozing innocence. Though, the look in your lidded eyes betrayed said innocence, “Loooooove. Need. P-Please?” 

Peter’s eyes popped open, as realization dawned on him. Oh. You meant you needed-... Ah. He understood now. The unreasonably cute, living corpse he found - dormant in a pod for, like, a decade - wanted to bump uglies. Great. Awesome. What the hell was he supposed to do about that? Fulfill your unbridled desire? C’monnnn. Didn’t boning undead cuties come with any moral implications? If he took you to pound town, would that make him a necrophiliac? Peter really didn’t wanna be labeled a necrophiliac.

But hypothetically, what if he admitted his own desperation to himself? He always fumbled every time he tried to step up his game and woo the ladies. Not like he had any game to begin with. And tonight, there you were. Practically begging for him to take you. He should acknowledge the fact that, yeah - no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise - he found you very hot. So, ludicrously hot. Zombie traits and all.

And regardless of how many times he second guessed himself - at the end of the day - his dick didn’t have any qualms about zombie hanky panky.

Peter’s hand traveled up, thumbs curiously tracing the rough lining of your neck stitches. Before toying with the rusted bolts an inch or two above. Testing if you could even feel it. You didn’t react, and Peter wondered if scientists used those bolts to revive you. Did they awaken you Frankenstein style, with sharp surges of electricity? Or did you come to life by other means? A glowing, reagent liquid, maybe?

Hesitating for a fraction of a second, Peter tugged the front of your loose top down. A pair of off-green, zombie melons jiggled freely. Stitches circled each breast, and Peter may or may not have thought they looked hot as fuck like that. Call him inhumane, but he really dug your whole monstrous babe aesthetic.

His hands kneaded the softest pair of undead knockers he ever felt, making you squirm under his touch. Peter grinned, pleased with every choked squeak leaping off your lips. He flitted his dark gaze up to your face, then back down to your breasts; back and forth, back and forth. Admiring the delicate expressions you made, your precious face scrunched in pleasure.

“Damn. Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? ‘Specially like this.” Peter chuckled, pinching and twisting your perky nipples, “Bet those bad guys never did. Sucks fer them. Yer a total babe. And sooo fuckin’ cute. Makes me want you all fer myself.”

Sooooo…about your…cooch situation. Yeah. Uh…Peter might’ve been somewhat worried about that. Taking your condition into consideration, he felt himself overcome with hesitance. Fearful that your-uh…flower, so to speak, may have withered away after a decade of darkness.

What about diseases? The thought made Peter squeamish. Even though you appeared and smelled relatively clean, you still hadn’t showered in a long freakin’ time. Then again, protection existed. Not to mention, you were so, so needy and cute. Your body looked undeniably amazing, and felt so soft. Fuck it. With some reluctance, Peter willed himself to test the waters. For your sake, but also for his own. Just to make up for the years he spent wishing he could get laid again.

A win-win for you both.

Tugging your tiny shorts down your smooth thighs - finding a little struggle along the way, since the meat of your thighs proved an obstacle - Peter snuck his fingers under the hem of your worn panties. The millisecond before his fingers met the supple curtains of your pussy, he second guessed himself for the zillionth time. Peter’s subconscious doubt pestered him enough, he almost withdrew his hand completely.

But the precious whimper you made gave him enough encouragement to keep going. His thick digits cautiously braved forbidden, undead territory. Finding an overabundance of cool, silky wetness between your lips. Peter swallowed hard, knitting his brows as he scoured for your clit.

“Jesus, baby.” He muttered. Judging by your bubbly squeak of delight, Peter assumed he found what he’d been venturing for. Leaning slightly forward into your proximity, Peter circled your stiff, little nub, “You want it bad, don’t you?”

“G-...G-....Gooooood! Mo-....More? More!” You mewled, clenching fists into his shirt. Mindlessly, you canted your hips, seeking his crotch. “Hey, it’s whatever you want, pretty.” He mused with a smirk, voice tender, “Relaaaax. I gotcha. I gotcha. ”

His fingers drew downwards, teasing for a beat before cruising into your silken entrance. Lush, deathly cold walls welcomed his digits in a loving hug. Beckoning Peter to sink them in deeper. You held his shirt like a lifeline, moaning an angelic, rattle of a noise. Pulling you closer into his warm body, Peter lowered his head to your shoulder. Thin strands of silver hair tickled your cheek. His thick fingers curled, hooking into a cushiony spot inside you. Your near-empty eyes saw hot flashes of light.

“L-LOOOVE~!” You whimpered through hitched cries.

“Mhm?” Peter laughed, impishly nibbling his lip, “Feel that lovin’? Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

Keeping you distracted for a temporary moment, Peter dotted your neck in warm kisses. Subtly easing his fingers in and out of your velvet pussy at a quicker pace. Your knees buckled, trembling the faster he moved. Until his motions became brutal. With a perfect curl, speedy digits rammed repeatedly into that spongy spot you loved. Your sugary sweet, unintelligible whines rose in volume, as your sticky, little, zombie cunt quivered.

You gnawed powerful bites as you came, your teeth digging into Peter’s neck. But this time, he allowed it. He forced himself to muscle through the pain, holding your shuddering body close, “ Shhhh. Shhh. It’s cool, baby. It’s - ahh - it’s cool. That's it.” He cooed with a careful tone, stroking the back of your head and threading fingers through your ragged hair.

Easing his fingers from your cunt, he double checked the digits, making sure nothing seemed off. Your release felt thicker and stickier than any living person’s, but didn’t have much of a scent. While usually he looooved to taste the aftermath of a total cutie’s orgasm, Peter opted not to. Sure, your wetness didn’t appear radioactive or hazardous. But the thought of guzzling zombie honey put him off a little bit.

“G-....Goood?” You ogled Peter with half-lidded, glassy eyes, your lips parting in an irresistible giggle.

Peter bit his tongue. Alright. Maybe he…could give it a shot. Just this once. Zombie love liquor couldn’t be deadly or anything, could it? Disease-ridden, maybe. But Peter knew a hyper-intelligent doctor who could whip up a cure for most ailments. Guess it didn’t matter anymore. By the time Peter second guessed himself yet again, he’d already sucked his fingers clean. A bitter thickness lingered on his taste buds. Peter salivated at the thought of drinking down more.

“ Mmmm … mhm …not bad.” He chuckled, lips humming around his fingers, "I'd go fer seconds." He added with a wink, making you laugh.

Yikes. If Hank only knew how reckless Peter acted in the presence of some zombified cutie. He’d lock him up in the infirmary and run a thousand tests on him. Just to make damn sure Peter hadn’t contracted anything lethal.

Politely pushing you off him, Peter turned his head. He double checked the perimeter for any signs of life, despite the lab being totally desolate. Hopefully Summers hadn’t sent anyone after him, since the speedster took way too long returning to base. Unbuttoning his jeans, he pulled his hard length from the fly. Almost immediately, you gasped in elation. Tickled squeals danced on your discolored tongue. Thick, and flushed a dark scarlet, Peter’s cock throbbed in his hand.

"I'm guessin' you like what you see?" He snickered, giving his dick a firm stroke, "I like what I'm seein' too...if you couldn't tell." Every word Peter said, every charming smile he gave, seemed to attract you considerably. Drawing more kittenish giggles from you.

With your freezing, zombie mitts, you ungracefully reached for him. Cold fingers squeezed his cock, stroking in a clumsy motion. Peter drew in a sharp breath, the cool sensation of your hands arousing his nerves. Even if your hand to gland combat lacked any skill, it felt damn awesome to be touched like this again. He stepped forward, his giant hands grabbing your hips. You played with him as much as your little, unbeating heart desired. Tugging his burning hardness with an overzealous grip.

You tried lowering yourself to the floor, your mouth falling open, tongue gliding over your lip. But Peter instinctively stopped you. His hands darted to your shoulders, pulling you into a standing position. He preferred if you didn’t take your biting addiction downstairs. Visitations of the oral variety were closed to any undead visitors. At least, for right now.

“Y’know, I don’t usually like goin’ all the way on the first date.” He spoke, fishing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, “Like, call me an old soul 'er whatever.” Peter worked quickly, pulling a condom out of his wallet. He slipped the latex over his length, “But I can make an exception. Just fer you, cutie. But this stays between us, yeah?”

You nodded, pushing yourself up onto the dusty, operating table. Peter cringed, curling his lip out of concern for you. This couldn’t be sanitary. Dragging his attention from the filth under your bottom, you parted your knees. With your body angled backwards, you pointed eagerly at your panty-clad pussy. Soaked and dripping under the thin fabric. Peter’s breath hitched.

“Looooooove~? M-Ma…make?” You cooed, scooting a little off the edge of the table. As if tempting him to give in and fuck you already, you wiggled your ass. Like a beautiful, monstrous display of stitches and postmortem skin. All for the speedster's taking.

"I-I mean-uh...sure. If you really want me to. What kinda guy would I be to turn you down?" He awkwardly joked, fighting his nerves.

Peter pushed a strong hand against your inner thigh. Warm on your deathly cold flesh. He pulled your thin panties to the side, teasing your glossy slit with the head of his cock. You whimpered, cute noises bubbling in the back of your throat. Edging you for a beat more, he slid the teary eyed tip over your clit. Before sinking his length through your walls. Inch by pulsating inch, he bottomed out in a flash, tip kissing your cervix.

“ Wohhhhh, fuck.” He groaned. A new kind of coolness enveloped his cock, plushy and soft. Hooking your stitched legs over Peter’s shoulders, you tilted your body. Inviting him to submerge as deeply as your tight cunt would allow, “Oh, baby…yer so-...ah, fuuuuck. ”

"G……..Goo-......Gooood~!" You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut. Your strangled voice erupted in a mantra of lustful squeals.

By some act of divine intervention, Peter could feel the swollen, unyielding lusciousness of your pussy. Walls wringing his cock, like you wanted to suck him dry of everything he had. He swiftly rutted into your cunt, hard enough to make you bounce against the table. Peter’s sluggish eyes followed your breasts as they bobbed. Titties jiggling with such a soft, sexy whirl; He felt his cock twitch inside you.

Leaning down, Peter loomed over you, the rough fabrics of his clothes sliding along your bare skin. He kissed you tenderly, a little heedless. In the midst of fondling your precious, stitched breasts, Peter's hot palm curiously pressed against your chest. Feeling...nothing. No heartbeat, no blood flow. A little spooked, he refocused his attention. Playing with your bouncing, zombie titties again.

"Feels so-...you feel so good, holy fuck -" He moaned, his voice catching in his throat, "So pretty. L- ah ...love how tight you are." Playfully, Peter lost himself in the moment. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, suckling one of your Frankenstein tits, "Loooove these zombie boobies. Hah -oooohhh, shit-"

Lying in slumber for a decade must have left you majorly sensitive. In just a few more, aggressive, bunny humps; you came again. Hypnotic delight burst through your core, pushing you to the point of tears. Your pussy fluttered, sticky wetness gushing around his cock. Reaching up to link your arms around his neck, you clawed little etchings into his skin.

“M-Mmmmmooore~! More, mmm- ...more~!!” You pleaded, coaxing Peter to drill you with all the energy he carried. Not to toot his own horn, but - little did you know - he harbored enough energy for a hundred men. And then some.

"You w- fuck -want more? Want more, baby? God, yer gonna make me-" His voice wavered between moans, "G-Gonna make me lose it-"

Peter’s mischievous eyes met yours, as you gave him that doe eyed look he couldn’t fucking resist. Sharp jabs of his cock sped to a blur, slamming into your cunt in a brutal display of his strength. Keeping himself balanced, hands pressed to the table on either side of you; Peter showed no mercy. Abusing your precious, syrupy walls with a ruthless pace. But not fast enough that he’d tear his means of protection. A harsh surge of heavenly pain flared up inside you, as he tore into your pussy and bashed your cervix.

"LOOOOOVE~! Ah~! Peeeetur~!" In a moment of post orgasmic clarity, you called his name. Slurred, and barely recognizable. How'd you even know? Had you picked it up from his walkie conversations? Damn, his zombie buddy's more perceptive than he thought. Peter snickered, finding your pronunciation ridiculous. But the cute, needy sound of his name on your lips triggered something.

" ’Mgonnacum- ” Peter whined, his brutal pace more inconsistent and sloppy, “Gonna-...feels too good o h fuck oh fuCK -” 

A pearly white burst of thick heat stuffed the latex of the condom full, threatening to make it pop. Burying his nose deep in the crook of your neck, Peter moaned. Guttural whines ripped from his chest, drying his throat. Panting - not from exhaustion, but overstimulation - Peter loosened his muscles. In mellow, post nut bliss, he almost overlooked the sizzle of static buzzing from his walkie.

“Peter? Peter, answer me right now. So help me god. Everyone’s worried sick about you! Do you read me? Peter, I said, do you read me? Please!” Scott pleaded through a mix of agitation and genuine distress.

 Peter drew out a long, hard groan. Pushing himself up a little, he fumbled lazily for his walkie. A sluggish grin curled into his dimples, as he nibbled his lip and winked down at you. His eyes half lidded and hanging heavy.

 “Mmmm…’M fine. ‘M fine. ‘M fine.” He chuckled, overcompensating for himself. He knew he’d be in mega trouble with the crew by this point, “It’s all-uh…all good. Jeez, Summers. Did ya think I was dead ‘er somethin’? Haha…” Peter drolled, his tone slower than usual. He withdrew his softening cock from inside you, watching while you squirmed. On your back, you appeared a blissful, fucked out mess. Ultimately satisfied. Mission accomplished, “Don’t worry so much, bro. I was only takin’ my new, zombie buddy out to-uh…tooooooo…an arcade. Yeah. An arcade.”

On the other end of the line, a silence fell. Peter filled it with an, “O-Over.” to compensate again.

 “...You took the zombie…to an arcade?” Scott responded, an edge of irritated disbelief in his tone, “Peter, are you out of your damn mind? Do you not realize how much of a risk that is? I can’t even-...your priority for this mission was to retrieve those documents for Hank. Doesn’t it seem irresponsible to be dragging an unknown, undead creature around a public place? I can’t even believe you!” He heard Scott scoff, “Now, will you please return already with those documents? We’re all waiting on you. Bring the zombie too.”

“Uhhh…yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Dunno what came over me. Sure. Okie dokes. Lemme, uh-” Peter spoke, playfully fighting you off. You reached for his neck, trying to pull him back down for post-sex cuddles, “Lemme grab ‘em. They’re goin’ hog wild with skee-ball right now. Crazy, right? They scored, like, sooooo many points. You should see all the tickets we got, man. We could totally get one ‘a those jumbo prizes. Say, Scotty, do you want, like, a giant Mighty Mouse?”

“Maximoff.” Scott replied sternly, without a beat of hesitation. His frustration oozed through the speakers, and Peter could feel guilt itching at his conscience.

In the background, Peter overheard someone - though he couldn’t guess who - mutter a, “Is Mighty Mouse even a thing anymore?” Oh. Once Peter returned, he’d be in for it. Royally fucked. Figuratively, and, thankfully, literally. In the short, momentary instance of silence between walkie communication; Peter disposed of the condom and straightened himself out. He disappeared for a millisecond, snatching a fresh towel from some luxury bath shop all the way in Paris. Dousing the cloth in warm water, he wiped you clean upon his ultra speedy arrival. Before helping you redress, making you look…somewhat presentable. 

“Fine. I totally get it, okay? Look, man. I’m sorry. But can ya really blame me fer wantin' to hang after the experience I just had? Doesn’t matter. Be there in a flash. M-Maybe don’t tell Hank, though. If you can hel-” Peter rambled sheepishly, slinging the towel over his shoulder. He stepped backwards, extending a hand for you to take. 

“Pietro Maximoff, I am beside myself with you!” Hank started, clearly agitated, cutting Peter off.

Peter groaned, mumbling quietly to himself as you took his hand, “He told Hank. He did it. He fuckin’ told him. Shit. I’m so fucked. I’m so, so fucked.” In a motion to guide you off the operating table, Peter pulled you forward by your hand.

“I have several questions. Why would you bring an undead creature to an arcade? What were your motivations behind taking the creature out, on a recreational activity? The potential danger or damage to the arcade and its patrons is far too high. And, furthermore, Peter, is there any scientific value to observing a zombie around arcade equipment? I understand you have this insatiable need to act out, but this is ridiculous! It is our duty, as members of the X-Men, to protect humanity from all threats. Including potential zombie related incidents at public arcades. Now then, please return the specimen immediately for further observation.” Hank ranted on and on and on and on-

A noise, like fabric tearing, cut uncomfortably through the air. Weak stitching around your elbow ripped loose, and Peter pulled your forearm clean off. Hank’s tirade met an abrupt end, as a blood curdling scream rocked the entire room. “Peter? Peter?? What’s happened? Peter, are you alright?” Hank panicked over the walkie.

Past the edge of terrified, shocked to the point of nearly pissing himself; Peter screamed. He wiggled his hand, trying to let go of your lone arm. But your hand held his tightly, your grip refusing to ease up. Once he finally freed himself, he expected your arm to drop to the floor. But your little fingers moved, crawling like spider legs. A zombie’s dislodged arm creeped up Peter’s shoulder over his jacket. Some real, Evil Dead kinda shit. He smacked at it, shouting like a housewife frightened by a mere mouse.

“YEAH!I’mfineI’mgreatI’mawesomesorryit’snothing.” Peter responded, rushed and unclear, “O-Over?” He cringed, scowling as you hopped off the operating table to retrieve your missing arm.

“...Pardon?” Hank asked, tone puzzled. Peter swallowed, shuddering while you pulled your freakish, deadite arm off his shoulder, “Are you…sure you’re alright, Peter? What’s going on? You’ve been acting awful strange tonight. Is there something on your mind?”

A lot. Peter had so much on his mind. Like, the totally real fact that he boned an undead, Frankenstein babe, for one.

“Uhm. It’s-...it’s nothing. Seriously, don’t even worry, Beastie. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Just-uhm…lab’s still-...there was some thunder, and the building-uh-” Peter nervously rambled, struggling to find his words, “Over.”

Another pause drew out long enough for Peter to realize his mistake. He cursed, smacking himself on the side of the head. How could he be scatterbrained, to forget his own lies in a matter of seconds? He had a feeling, deep in his gut; Hank would rip him a new one tonight once he got back. “...The lab? Peter…didn’t you just tell us you were at an arcade?” Hank asked, reasonably suspicious.

Peter’s voice broke as he replied, “I mEAN-” He cleared his throat, “Uhhh-...heh. I-I ran back! Forgot-uh...there was somethin’ I forgot. Like I said, doesn’t matter. I’m totally fine! I’m juuust peachy! Hang tight. I’ll be right there. Over and out.” Peter took a second to collect himself, clipping his walkie to his belt. He silenced the device, ignoring any further questions from Hank. Subconsciously, Peter took a step back as you reached for him again. His veins vibrated with a buzz of adrenaline. With your arm dismembered, you moved abruptly forward. Nuzzling your face into Peter’s chest, the same way you had all night. Still just as smitten with him. Groggy purrs rumbled in your throat.

Rolling his eyes, Peter patted your head, smoothing out your ragged, messy hair, “What am I gonna do with you? Yer nothin’ but trouble, y’know that?” He teased, pinching one of your cold cheeks, “Whaddya say we get outta here already? But I gotta make a couple ‘a pit stops. And you gotta behave yerself. Don’t get any funny ideas about eatin’ anybody.” Peter wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close. Pointing at you with an accusatory finger. 

You tilted your head, confused again. Peter really couldn’t get enough of that cute, clueless look. Hank and Scott had no idea what they were talkin’ about. His zombie buddy? Totally harmless. You’d never even hurt a fly.

Okay. First order of business. Find a Mighty Mouse plush, just to really sell his arcade story. After that, he planned on snatching you some nicer clothes. Anything to protect your modesty. Thirdly, Peter wanted to teach himself some gnarly makeup tricks. Cover up his hickies. Yeah. No sweat! He could do all that in a flash.

Oh. And late night pancakes. Peter refused to skimp out on those. He’d been craving them all night, and his body desperately needed to replenish its energy. Surely, the gang back home wouldn’t mind. After everything, they totally wouldn’t be supremely pissed and fed up with Peter’s bullshit. And the waitress serving at whatever diner he picked? She wouldn’t bat an eye at some undead, zombified customer, would she?

Why's he even kidding himself?

Gathering Hank’s files, Peter tucked them under his arm. He zipped around in search of whatever other knick-knacks he lost, including his fallen flashlight. Stepping towards you, Peter brought his earbuds to your ears. He exchanged the tape in his Walkman for another, aiming to keep you entertained with music while he traveled at superspeed. As soon as the tune graced your ears, you leapt in place. Squeaking a surprise chirp. Your shoulders bunched, and you darted your hazy eyes around.

“Hey, easy, easy-” Peter reassured, cranking the volume down low so you could still hear him, “It’s just music, baby. It’s nice, right? You like it? You like-uh…you like the Monster Mash? Crypt Kickers? Bobby Pickett?” He gestured with his hands, suggestively raising his brows, “We had a graveyard smash, didn't we, eh?” You simply stared at him, clueless as usual. Huffing, Peter pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Seriously. What am I gonna do with you?”

You clutched your dislodged arm tight, cradling the appendage close. Throwing a quick glance your way, Peter shook his head. He pulled his goggles over his eyes, and braced a warm hand at the back of your neck. The few seconds before he took off, he leaned in close. Hearing that Halloween melody playing from the earphones you wore, he quietly sang along.

As much as he liked cuddling ‘Ro on Halloween, horror movie nights; A new idea crossed his mind. He might just snuggle up on the couch with someone special this year. 

[kadentherabbit]

Hi guys!!!! Soo this is my master list, it will be updated as I write more fanfics in the future, I currently write for ahs/evan peters characters, DC characters and possibly Donnie Darko in the near future! Make a request to be on my tag list!

A little more about me I suppose: gay and trans! Please only refer to me with he/him pronouns. I enjoy gory movies or movies with Evan Peter’s in them :3. You can refer to me as Kaden! I love writing, one of my favorite hobbies but it takes me a while to have any motivation so keep that in mind!

Most of my fics will be about men, and in a gender neutral fashion unless I’m requested specifically male reader or female reader! Keep reading for more!!

I will not write fics that include:

Any bodily fluids that aren’t spit, cum or blood (Strict limits).

Age gaps that include one party being under the age of 18 and another party being over the age of 18. (Aka any sort of pedophilia)

Fics that involve childbirth/pregnancy (may change in future).

Incest or stepcest. Platonic family relationships only.

Threesomes or any smut that includes more than 2 people (may change in future)

Smut for any female or AFAB character.

I hate writing angst.

Characters I currently feel comfortable writing for! ⬇️

Peter Maximoff, Tate Langdon, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Most DC villains, Carl Gallagher, Kai Anderson (May be ooc), Ponyboy Curtis, Two-Bit Mathews, Adam Banks, Kyle Spencer, Tweek Tweak, Wilbur Robinson, Lewis/Cornelius Robinson, Johnny Lawrence.

Characters I need more time with ⬇️

Kit Walker, James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Lip Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Donnie Darko, Luke Cooper, Colin Zabel, Stan Bowes, Guy Germaine.

(you may suggest these characters! I may just need a little more time to write the fic!)

smut = 𝜗𝜚. fluff =✿.

AHS

Tate Langdon NSFW Alphabet 𝜗𝜚

Your fear is my pleasure - Kai Anderson 𝜗𝜚

The only friend you’ll ever need - Tate Langdon 𝜗𝜚 (req)

X-MEN

Peter Maximoff NSFW Alphabet 𝜗𝜚 (req kinda)

Stuffed like a Twinkie - Peter Maximoff 𝜗𝜚/✿ (req)

Mean Dom Peter Maximoff 𝜗𝜚

Do you wanna get high? - Peter Maximoff ✿

DC

Dick Grayson/Nightwing Blabz ✿

Arkham Knight! Jason Todd Blabz ✿ (Fem! Robin reader!)

OTHERS

Ryan Gosling! Ken Blabz ✿

Rodrick Heffley Blabz ✿

Jack Hughes Blabz ✿/𝜗𝜚

Five Hargreeves Blabz ✿

Cobra Kai! Johnny Lawrence blabs 😈

[biting-miguel-ohara]

About Me

Hi, I’m Stevie, 20, demiboy they/he

This sideblog is literally just for Marvel fics and stuff

Main account is @tachyon-girl. Follow for other fandoms and random posts, I guess?

SPOILERS!!!

NO MINORS!!! BLOG IS VERY 18+!!!!

Feel free to send in requests for ftm, male, nonbinary, and gender neutral Readers

I write for all Marvel characters (if I don’t know them, I’ll do research on them)

I don’t write cheating fics or non-con (dub-con is fine)

All active or main characters must be of age (18 or older) for both smut and fluff fics, please

I reserve the right to refuse, ignore, or delete any request that I don’t like or don’t want to write

Please don’t copy, steal, or otherwise redistribute my works without my permission. All my stories are written by me

I use the tag #steviesaysstuff for blog updates, announcements, and story info; and the tag #steviemail for answering asks

I also tag for my emoji anons! Current emoji anons include:

🎀 anon

🐦‍⬛ anon

🧸 anon

Fics and Stories

Alpha - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Being Logan’s Good Boy Is…*

Comfort - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

Just Logan*

Thief - Janet Van Dyne (EMH) x male!Reader*

Attaboy - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

T-Shirts - Wade Wilson x ftm!Reader*

Solnyshko - Natasha Romanoff x gn!Reader

Thigh Obsession with Wade Wilson*

Jealousy Headcanons with Wade Wilson*

Jealousy Headcanons with Laura Kinney

Goddess - Laura Kinney x male!Reader*

Princess - Laura Kinney x gn!Reader*

Work - Wade Wilson x ftm!Reader*

Plaid Flannel Shirt - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Obsession Headcanons with Wade Wilson*

Mindfuck - Cassandra Nova x male!Reader*

Jealousy Headcanons with Natasha Romanoff

Shower - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

Heat - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader x Wade Wilson*

Asshole - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Ass Play - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Stress Relief - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Fingering with Peter Maximoff*

Kitty - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Sex - Venom x ftm!reader*

Bunny - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader x Wade Wilson*

Pretty - Laura Kinney x ftm!Reader

I Missed You - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

Perfect - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

Who You Are - Wade Wilson x platonic!Reader

Fucking Cat - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader*

* indicates mature content

Challenges and Events

biting-miguel-ohara’s Marvel Kinktober Masterlist | 2024

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Christmas/Holidays/New Year's Eve Masterlist

In the mood for some winter fluff? Look no further than these curated picks from my collection.

General Winter Imagines

Arthur Curry x Reader

Sweater Weather - Fluff

When it gets colder outside, the king of the sea loans you his sweater.

Jack Frost x Reader

Snowflake - Fluff, Soulmate AU

Your soulmark is a snowflake, and thus, winter easily became your favorite season. However, you have a good feeling about winter this year, a tingly feeling that makes your mark glow...

Tired of Gray - Fluff, Soulmate AU

It’s Christmas time and you’re just about sick of your gray, gray world. Luckily, your soulmate is known to visit in the winter.

Christmas/Holiday Imagines

Bernard the Elf x Reader

The Way it Was Before - Alternate Universe, Bernard exists during Escape Clause Plot, Magic!Reader, a light angst, a lot of fluff.

Something is VERY wrong this Christmas, and it seems you’re the only person in the world who remembers the way things were before. Well, almost the only person. It’s up to you and the Head Elf to save the day before Jack’s wish becomes irreversible.

Home for the Holidays - Fluff, Christmas, Santa’s Daughter!Reader

When you come home for Christmas, Bernard realizes that you’re the reincarnation of someone very dear to him.

All I Want For Christmas - Fluff, Christmas, Santa’s Daughter!Reader

Being Santa Claus’ daughter, it was only inevitable that you’d catch feelings for his head elf…

Dear Santa… - Fluff, Writer Elf!Reader

The writing department has been especially short on elves this year, and this means you find yourself responsible for writing a whole bunch of letters. Luckily, the head elf has his eye on you.

Druig x Reader

Merry Little Christmas - Fluff, Christmas, GN! Reader

Christmas with the Eternals is a little extra special this year because of a certain mind-controlling telepath…

Prince Eric (Barbie in the Nutcracker)

Real - Fluff, Christmas

After arriving back in your living room, you’re startled to find out that the previous night was real, Mouse King, Nutcracker, and all.

Home - Fluff, Christmas

The locket is supposed to take you home, but in your heart, you know you’re already there.

Steve Harrington x Reader

About Time - Fluff, Soulmate AU, Time Travel

You discover a time-traveling wormhole in your closet and a hot guy from the 80′s on the other side of it.

Steve Rogers x Reader

The Nutcracker - Fluff, Ballerina!Reader

When your winter recital finally comes around, Steve is more than happy to support you.

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Merry Christmas, Darling - Fluff, Christmas, Mutant!Reader, Gender Neutral!Reader

The Holidays are in full swing at the X Mansion, and as always, you are tasked with helping run the place. But things are a lot less dull with a certain winged mutant around.

Santa Baby - Fluff, Christmas

You use the power of invisibility to put a Santa hat on each of the X-Men. 

New Year's Eve Kisses

New Year’s Eve Kisses 2017 - Steve Harrington, Marty McFly, Edmund Pevensie, Thackery Binx, Wanda Maximoff

New Year’s Eve Kisses 2020 - Alex Vreeke (Jumanji), Jack Frost, Ben Tennyson, Diaval, Peeta Mellark

New Year’s Eve Kisses 2021 - Bernard the Elf, Bucky Barnes, Diana Prince, Killian Jones, Pietro Maximoff

New Year’s Eve Kisses 2022 - Eddie Munson, Druig, Kili, Neville Longbottom, Peter Pan

[remussl0vers]

requesting guide

updated: 17.06.23

please make sure to read this before requesting anything — i'm hoping that you'll respect my boundaries on what am i comfortable with and with not writing.

MASTERLIST

I tend to curse often in my fics, and are usually comfortable with covering more serious topics, so make sure to check the content warning before hand. I always write warnings when I believe they're needed, but do let me know if you think something should be added!

also senders may request as many as they want <3

FORMS OF WRITING :

oneshot

imagine

headcanon

series

alphabet

I tend to write oneshots over 1000 words, so if you want feel free to specify if you want a long or short story.

CONTENT I WRITE :

fluff

angst

sensitive / triggering topics

gore

smut / spice

most tropes ( best at friends to lovers )

I'm pretty comfortable with writing sensitive topics as well as angst ( anyone who's read my works before will know that they're the things I write best ) however, if I'm not comfortable with the topic as a whole I will DM you, or possibly put it off for a while.

*If you have a writing prompt from somewhere as well, feel free to send it through !!

CHARACTERS :

male reader / ftm

gender neutral

genderfluid

original character

I do not write female readers / characters anymore. If there aren't specified pronouns then I will write it as a male character.

There are also some characters I only feel comfortable writing for with a male reader/character and vice versa, which I'll note who.

PAIRINGS :

love interests

platonic

family

polyamorous ships ; depends on the character

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE :

support of homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, racism, sexism, pedophilia, incest ; if they're mentioned in a request in terms of the character being bullied / abused ( in the past ) then i may write it but NOT explicitly, only a mention

a pairing against a character's canon sexuality

rape

pregnancy

female reader

anime

WHO I WRITE FOR :

DEAD BOY DETECTIVES :

charles rowland

edwin payne

monty

niko sasaki ( not romantic )

crystal palace ( not romantic )

DESCENDANTS :

ben beast

harry hook

carlos de vil

jay

mal bertha

evie grimhilde

LOCKWOOD & CO :

anthony lockwood

lucy carlyle

george karim

quill kipps ( friends / family only )

MARAUDERS :

remus lupin

sirius black

regulus black

james potter

lily evans ( not romantic )

evan rosier

barty crouch jr

marlene mckinnon ( not romantic )

dorcas meadows ( not romantic )

pandora lovegood ( not romantic )

mary mcdonald ( not romantic )

MARVEL :

peter parker / spiderman ( tom and andrew )

loki laufeyson

kate bishop

yelena belova ( not romantic )

steve rogers

bucky barnes

pietro maximoff

wanda maximoff

valkyrie ( not romantic )

natasha romanoff

tony stark ( not romantic )

gwen stacy ( emma stone )

gwen stacy ( atsv )

*marvel and particularly the mcu is a fandom i'm more comfortable with than most, so if there is a character not listed, then i may or may not write for them

NARNIA :

prince caspian

peter pevensie

edmund pevensie ( only during dawn treader )

SHADOW AND BONE / SIX OF CROWS :

kaz brekker

inej ghafa

jesper fahey

wylan van eck

nina zenik

alina starkov

nikolai lantsov

genya safin ( not romantic )

matthias helvar

STRANGER THINGS :

steve harrington

jonathon byers

max mayfield

robin buckley ( not romantic )

TEEN WOLF :

stiles stilinski ( *i will take most/all dylan obrien characters )

isaac lahey

scott mccall

liam dunbar ( not romantic )

allison argent

malia tate

lydia martin ( not romantic )

kira yukimura

derek hale

THE HUNGER GAMES :

finnick odair

peeta mellark

katniss everdeen

THE MAZE RUNNER :

newt

thomas

minho

X-MEN :

logan howlett

charles xavier ( james mcavoy )

jean grey

mystique

rogue

erik lehnsherr ( not romantic )

wade wilson / deadpool

kitty pryde

bobby drake

*FANDOMS COMING SOON : PJO, DISNEY, HANNIBAL

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Marvel Masterlist

Hey, hey! Welcome to my Marvel Masterlist!

Here is the link to my Main Masterlist and My Navigation

And my requests currently are CLOSED

And I no longer write for these characters or this fandom for personal reasons (I still enjoy the show, but I just don't read or write fanfics for it anymore)!

Last Updated On: 11|12|23

All Characters (MCU & XMEN)

Ghost of Them (🥀)

MCU

All Characters

Do They Give Good Hugs/How Often Do They Hug You (❤️)

The Avengers Reaction To You Slapping Them (❤️🤷‍♀️)

Morning Sweetheart (🥀)

I Once Asked If It Was Between Me and Him, Who Would You Choose?: Part 1 (🥀)

And They Chose Him: Part 2 (🌹)

I Killed Them (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Bucky Barnes

Embraces (🌹)

I'm Sorry (🌹)

They Forgot, But That's Okay (🌹)

Loki

All You Need Is Love (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

High? Hi (Gender Neutral Reader) (🤷‍♀️)

Just Sleep (🌹)

Loki Come Down (🥀✨)

You’re An Idiot, But I Love You (Trans-Male Reader) (🌹)

Got You (🌸)

Soulmate AU: Version 1 (🌹)

Soulmate AU: Version 2 (🌹)

Those Are Mine (🌸)

Hanahaki Disease AU (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Everything Changed (🌹🥀)

Being With Him Includes (❤️)

Another Life (🥀)

We'll Get Through (🌹)

I'm Lonely Without You (🌹🥀)

Stupid For You (🌹)

Soulmate AU (🌹)

Wait For Me To Come Home (🌹🥀✨)

You Tried (Peter’s POV) (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Peter's Reaction To The End of S7EP12 Of The Clone Wars (🌸)

Your House: Part 1 (🥀)

We Weren't Perfect: Part 2 (🥀)

I'm Happy For You: Part 3 (🌹🥀)

Unexpected (🤷‍♀️)

My Yellow (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

Here (Male Reader) (🌹)

Worst Couple (🥀)

Happy Halloween (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

I'm Fine (Stark!Reader) (🥀)

I Love You 10,000 (Stark!Reader) (🥀)

I'm Just--I Know (Stark!Reader) (🌹)

Hanahaki Disease AU (🌹)

Let Me Help (Stark!Reader) (🌹)

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)

He Just Did (🥀)

I'm Sick And Tired Of It All (🌹🥀)

Natasha Romanoff

Happy Birthday (Romanogers!Reader) (🌹)

I Love and Miss You (🥀)

Something Like That (🌸)

Pietro Maximoff

Hanahaki Disease AU (🥀)

Sam Wilson (No Longer Write For)

My Daughter? (🌹)

Steve Rogers

Soulmate AU (🌹)

Little Things That You Do That Steve Loves/Finds Cute (❤️)

I Thought You Left Me For Good (🌹🥀)

Happy Birthday (Romanogers!Reader) (🌹)

Hanahaki Disease AU (🤷‍♀️)

Something Like That (🌸)

Thor

I’m Sorry For Ignoring You (Male Reader) (🌹)

Tony Stark (No Longer Write For)

Hanahaki Disease AU (🌹🥀)

XMEN

All Characters

Do They Give Good Hugs/How Often Do They Hug You (❤️)

Liar! (🥀)

I Want To Go Back! (🥀)

It’s All My Fault (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

The X-Men’s Reactions To You Slapping Them (❤️🤷‍♀️)

Alex Summers (Havok)

Yeah, In A Cowboy Hat (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

Friends or Lovers? (🥀)

You're Jealous (🌹)

Take It and Go (🥀)

But You’re Not Mine (Gender Neutral Reader): Version 1 (🥀)

But You’re Not Mine (Gender Neutral Reader): Version 2 (🥀)

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

All So Sudden (🌹)

Early Morning Watch (🌹)

Hank McCoy (Beast)

You Weren’t The Only One! (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Jean Gray

I Love You (🌹)

Warmth (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

It's Okay Jean (Platonic!Reader) (🤷‍♀️✨)

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

You Are Doing Amazing (🌹)

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Thank You (Gender Neutral Reader) (🌹)

Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Everything Will Be Fine (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

5 More Minutes (Gender Neutral Reader) (🥀)

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

All I Have Are Flashes (🤷‍♀️)

[make-me-imagine]

Valentines Day 2023 Masterlist

Here are the links to everything I wrote for Valentines Day 2023.

Note: All fics are Gender Neutral Reader Inserts.

Leverage:

Eliot Spencer x Reader: 'My First Valentine' (fluff/drabble)

Eliot Spencer x Reader: 'What You Want the Most' (fluff/romance)

Harry Wilson x Reader: 'Flowers and Confessions' (fluff/cute)

Top Gun:

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader: 'In Your Dreams' (angst/fluff)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader: 'Love Is Stored in Post-It Notes' (fluff)

Top Gun Valentines Scenario Game

MCU:

Peter Maximoff x Reader: 'Disheveled Confession' (fluff/cute)

Stephen Strange x Reader: 'Only You' (romance/cute)

Scott Summers x Reader: 'More Than Anything' (angst/fluff)

Shang-Chi x Reader: 'My Person' (fluff/romance)

Stargate:

John Sheppard x Reader: 'A New Experience' (cute/fluff)

9-1-1:

Lou Ransone x Reader: 'Valentines Day Morning' (domestic fluff/drabble)

The Gentlemen:

Raymond Smith x Reader: 'Exactly My Type' (romantic/cute)

Star Trek SNW:

Spock x Reader: 'Two Hearts, Eight Words' (romance/cute)

Enola Holmes:

Sherlock Holmes x Reader: 'Cheers To Us' (romantic/cute)

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hi everyone, I'm Rin, welcome!

I'm a multifandom writer and you can send requests for headcanons, fics, etc. I can write for ships but currently I’m mainly doing x readers (no smut)

I'm also currently in school, so please be kind if I don't respond for a bit :) Guys I am on an unplanned really long hiatus :( idk the writing fuel is not… I hope you can enjoy the fics I have and I’m sorry if I haven’t written your request, I may get to it but not for a while. thank you <3

Besides writing this is mainly a maze runner blog, plus whatever else I decide to put on it - at this stage likely to be stranger things, the artful dodger, the marauders, and the umbrella academy

Tags: #my writing (just fics), #rin's saved (my fav posts of all time), #asks, #not fic (any non-fic posts)

Fandoms I write for (+ masterlist):

My personal favs: ✩, my most popular: ❀

(gn) = gender neutral reader, (f) = fem, (m) = masc

THE MAZE RUNNER

Newt

Come back to me: Part 1 & Part 2 (gn) All in two days: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (gn) ✩ You're my favourite: Part 1 & Part 2 (gn) Tides (f) Play me something? (m) ❀ Strawberry kisses (f) Angel boy & Perfect without (gn) Soul sister (f) The night we met (gn)

Thomas

✩ Invisible string (f) Calm and Storm (f) Intertwined (f) Thomas Relationship Headcanons (gn) Something I Need (f)

Minho

Love your touches (not in a weird way) (f) Classic (f) Just cuddles and kisses (f) ✩ Real or not real (f) First date (gn) ✩ Teenage dream (f)

Gally

Scars (gn)

Aris

It's you and me (f)

Everyone (platonic)

The Heart (gn) Shields: Part 1 & ✩ Part 2 (f) ✩ Hope (f) Born to run (f) ✩ Look after each other for me (f) ✩ Yellow painted skies (m) ✩ Everyone loves Y/n (gn)

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

New kids

Allison Argent

Lydia Martin

Kira Yukimura

HARRY POTTER (main cast and marauders)

George Weasley

It's a love story (f)

THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT

Beth Harmon

My girl (f)

Benny Watts

THE ARTFUL DODGER

Jack Dawkins

Belle Fox

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

Five Hargreeves (note that his age is a bit fiddly, so fics will be set a) before he jumps forward, b) in an AU where he never jumps, or c) the time he spent in the apocalypse will be reduced. also depends on whether requests specify reader's age range)

MARVEL

Peter Parker (tasm or mcu -verse)

Bucky Barnes

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

If you're looking for any fandom/character that's not on this list just send an ask and I'll see if I know it well enough to write it

Requests are open!!