When Peter wouldn't find himself between chaos and saving lives on different spots at almost the same time, he could be found in the garden, lying in the soft, green grass, arms tucked behind his head, humming songs he'd listened days before, mostly with a can of '7 up' soda or a twinkie snack in his hand. Birds were chirping serenades while soft breezes of summer air combed the speedsters silver hair. Suddenly a small squeaky noise could be heard in the distance, catching Peter's attention. With furrowed brows, he scanned the green carpet of grass and daisies next to him; nothing. He sat up straight to look at further spots, to find the cause of that tiny noise. He got up, sweeping further spots with his gaze in the grass; this time with unusual slow and small steps.
"Oh? Wait, what's tha-.."
He muttered to himself, as he leaned down to spot a small, brownish creature with tiny paws moving helpless on top of the grass.
"Ohh...heey little dude..."
Peter cooed, picking up the small mole deliberately, eying him with slight fascination.
"Heeey, how are ya doin?"
His fingers carefully caressed the moles soft silver-brown fur as he seemed pretty calm in Peter's hand.
He walked to a nice and cozy spot to place him back down to a nice little pile of churned-up soil.
"Look little buddy, looks good for ya, huh?"
He asked but he soon realised a mole couldn't see anything at all.
He slowly put him back to the ground, as he saw how happy the little mole got to finally touch soil again. He blindly padded around until he found a nice spot to bury himself back into the ground; disappearing with a small squeak.
"Bye little dude..."
Peter muttered as he waved the mole a little goodbye.
He released a content sigh, yet he got a little sentimental about the small encounter. Animals truly were the most harmless creatures, if you'd handle them with respect.
bf!peter maximoff x gn!reader
🍵 ‼️: 0.3k words. fluff. bantering. kisses!
a/n: sorry ik that this is short because this was just a random thought hehe
Your boyfriend, Peter Maximoff has an habit that you could not quite figure out. You don’t know if he is obsessed with your chapstick or your lips. Well, maybe both. Since every time you re-apply your chapstick, he’ll appear out of nowhere and steal a kiss. Then he’ll grin at you like he just won the lottery.
Right now, you and Peter are about to go out. You just finished applying your chapstick. Suddenly the next thing you knew is that Peter appeared beside you in a silver blur. “Looking delicious, babe.” he comments. “I call first taste!” Before you can even protest, he cups your cheek and steals a quick kiss.
“Peter..” you try to scold him but a flustered chuckle escapes your lips instead. A wide grin appears on his lips as he finds your reaction adorable. He looooves kissing your lips every time you’ve just applied your chapstick and also because knows that you couldn’t be mad at a kiss.
“What?? It’s delicious.” he teases you, wiggling his eyebrows. “my lips or my chapstick?” you teased him back. “Oh? That’s a trick question. I’m gonna need another taste to make a very truthful response.” with that, he starts to lean in to get another kiss. “You’re full of excuses.” You call him out playfully.
“C’mon,” he laughs, reaching for your waist. “Love you babe, just two or three more kisses. Speedsters burn calories faster. I need another kiss for energy.” That’s definitely not only gonna be two or three more kisses. That’s gonna turn to a makeout session again.
But damn you love it. You love Peter devouring your lips and showering you with this much affection and attention. This new chapstick tube you just bought is not gonna last long again. They never do if Peter’s around when you reapply it. Still, it was worth it for all the kisses Peter gave you.
likes/reblogs/comments are very much appreciated! 🫶
🍵 taglist: @bohnerrific69 @sempiternalbeauty @ethereallmonkey @zoe-benson-rp @bohnerrificc69 @xrag-dollx (lmk if anyone else wants to be added or removed!)
i had a request!! hopefully you could get to it. i was thinking about a fic with Kingfisher and reader where he finds out reader is pregnant and how he acts during the pregnancy and maybe some smut for my dirty whore self🤭😏😏 seeing as i am a very big whore for this man right here.
Summary: Your mate was protective enough over just you; bringing a baby into the mix? You can only imagine how feral Fisher could get.
SR’s Note: Soooo when I went and saw Wuthering Heights, this song IMMEDIATELY went with this request inside my brain, lol -- steamy movie, and a steamy request. I also wrote this while ovulating, so I hope that helps? HAHAH anyways, tmi per usual... I just hope y'all like this one. <3 Haven't gotten to write for Fisher in a minute. (Edit to add: I am truly not feeling well today, and definitely not in a space to try and write the second to last Selection chapter but I didn’t want to leave you all with ✨nothing✨ lmao so I finished this little *piece* up that’s been in my drafts, so I could at least give ya something. Enjoy!)
Tags: @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @whyucloudingmymind @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @woollybread786 @cherry-hotline @obi-wansgirl @therevoloutionhasbegun @poisonivy2267 @interphellar @delulustar @imjustagirl324 @spookypersondinosaur @bookishbishhh (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)
To say your husband had over reacted when first told the news would be the understatement of the century.
You'd waited until things had settled between the Fae courts and Sanasroth, waited until a quiet evening when not even Archer was around to interrupt; and that was when you told him.
A child, you admitted. The two of you would soon share a child.
He'd been elated, sure -- you would've hoped as much, being both mated and married for a few good years now. And with the Blood Court not posing as much of a threat to Yvelia, it seemed the Winter Palace would be the perfect place to begin preparing for your unborn child's arrival.
Everything seemed to just, simply fall into place.
That is, if you could ignore your husband's incessant fussing.
"I told Archer to be more careful where he walks," Fisher fussed, frowning as the little sprite scuttled from the room, leaving behind a few glowing embers in his wake. "Is he not aware just how dangerous raw Brimstone can be for a youngling?"
There were many nights like these where Kingfisher would become irritated at those he even trusted most; it didn't matter who you were, if you even so much as thought of posing a threat to his baby, he'd have something to say about it.
Signing, you placed a soft hand atop his, your gaze focusing on him rather than the buffet before you.
"Fisher, we talked about this," you said calmly, your other hand resting atop your swelling stomach. "Archer is more than capable of watchign where he steps, and his embers practically fizzle out as soon as they hit the ground. I don't think there's any need for worry-"
Fisher huffed, running a hand through his hair.
"I just want to be sure there are no safety concerns for my family -- not where our baby is concerned, or you, love."
SMiling softly, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. This is how these conversations would typically go, Fisher slipping into overprotective-dad mode, and just needing a little calm-down from his wife, which you were always happy to give.
:* ✧･ﾟ: *
However, there were other times that Fisher found himself slipping into a different role, other than overbearing father; man with many hats, this guy was. It seemed if he wasn't consumed with thoughts of your child, or criticizing others for how they acted so near his pregnant wife, he was, well... reminding you just how much he liked seeing you pregnant, to put it plainly.
Much like tonight, it seemed.
The inkwell tipped over with a soft clink, black ink spilling over the edge of the oaken desk. Kingfisher didn’t even flinch, he just plucked the ruined parchment up before the ink could bleed further, his fingers rather careful despite the growing mess.
“Third one today,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. "You'd think by now I'd be a pro at signing these things." The corner of his mouth twitched when you snorted.
“Maybe stop signing documents like you’re stabbing them,” you suggested, leaning against the edge of his desk. The weight of your belly pressed into the wood, a silent reminder neither of you needed yet always noticed. His gaze flicked down and lingered, then dragged back up to your face with deliberate slowness.
“I don’t stab,” he deadpanned. “I emphasize.”
You rolled your eyes, but the laughter bubbled up anyway.
"Besides," he continued, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as his eyes fixated on your (rather large, given how far along you were) cleavage. "My mind is... elsewhere tonight."
Outside, the distant hum of the ballroom seeped through the study door. The music, chatter, the clink of glasses -- it was all a celebration Tal had organized, though you’d lost track of him halfway through the evening. Kingfisher had whisked you away under the pretense of needing your opinion on incoming trade agreements; but the second the door of his study had shut, he’d dragged you into a kiss that tasted like weeks of pent up need.
His thumb brushed your lower lip, and you caught his wrist before he could pull back.
"You're avoiding the party," you accused, though your voice lacked any real bite. The pad of his thumb pressed gently against your throat, feeling your gentle heartbeat beneath your delicate skin.
"And what if I am?" Kingfisher murmured, standing and stepping around the desk until the warmth of his chest pressed against your back. His free hand settled on the curve of your belly, possessive in a way that made your breath catch. "Can't blame a man for wanting to spend time with his wife alone."
The words were low and rough at the edges, but his eyes... those damn green eyes... they were so unbearably soft, the kind he only used for you.
Still, you wouldn't take the bait -- you'd been with him long enough by now to know what exactly he was playing at.
"Mhm... and, you need to do this now, when we have all night that we can be alone together?" You said, your voice a sultry tune. "You're sure this has nothing to do with Carrion-"
Fisher's hand stilled, his breath hot as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.
"That no-good smuggler had no business standing so close to my wife -- let alone, getting you laughing like that."
Ahh, so there it was.
The only sound in the darkened space was the rustle of fabric as Kingfisher’s hand resumed, sliding up your side and tracing the dip of your waist before settling at just beneath your breasts.
“You’re rediculous,” you murmured, though you didn’t really mind -- not when his gaze burned like this, like he would burn the world down if it meant having you all to himself. "You know Carrion is just a friend."
“You know I can’t help it,” he admitted, uncharacteristically earnest. "And I'm not sure he feels the same."
His hands cupped your full breasts, pressing you closer against him, your ass resting right against his tightening slacks.
“You’re going to make me ruin my dress,” you murmured, though your hands were already reaching behind your head, your fingers tangling in his dark locks.
“Good,” he muttered, nipping at your earlobe. “Then you’ll have to stay in here with me.”
The words were supported by the slow slide of his hand up and over your shoulder, fingers tangling in the pins holding your hair in place. One came loose with a soft ping, bouncing off the desk before rolling somewhere beneath it. You laughed, the sound dissolving into a gasp as his mouth trailed down your neck, canines scraping lightly over your pulse.
Kingfisher’s lips were hotter and more insistent than they had any right to be, and when he bit down just above your collarbone, your knees wobbled. His arms hooked under your thighs as he turned you around, lifting you onto the desk.
“You’re... sinful,” you breathed, but the protest was weak and half-hearted at best. Especially when his hands slid up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your gown higher. You leaned your head back, your now free-flowing locks falling loosely over one shoulder.
“And you love me for it,” he countered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your knee. The scrape of his stubble made you shiver, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your stocking. His grin was slow and predatory, but his touch was delicate like you were something precious.
Something to be worshiped.
“You’re so beautiful like this Y/N,” he murmured, lips brushing the soft skin of your thigh. “Full with my child. Mine.”
You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging until he looked up at you, his pupils blown wide.
“Kingfisher please,” you demanded, voice unsteady.
He exhaled a laugh against your skin, his tongue licking at your smooth, perfect skin.
"You're all mine, Y/N," he repeated, rougher this time like the word had been dragged through gravel. "Every inch of you."
His mouth followed the claim, trailing upward until his breath ghosted over the damp lace between your thighs. Your back arched slightly as he teased, but his free hand splayed across your belly as if to remind you both why you were here.
The distant hum of voices and music drowned out by the hitch of your breathing and the wet, open-mouthed kisses Kingfisher pressed to your inner thigh. When his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, you hissed, fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned at the pull, the sound vibrating against you, and for a heartbeat, you thought he might finally stop teasing. But then his head tilted, and his tongue swiped a slow, torturous stripe through the fabric instead.
"Fisher, fuck-"
The protest died in your throat as he hooked a finger under the lace, draggign it aside. The cool air against your bare pussy was a shock, but not half as much as the first flat press of his tongue against it. Your hips jerked, but his arm across your hips held firm, pinning you to the desk as he licked into you like a man starved.
His fingers soon replaced his mouth, thick as they pushed inside. You gasped as he crooked them just right, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.
"My baeutiful wife," he muttered, voice choked. "Fuck -- my perfect mate."
You barely recognized the noise that escaped you. The desk creaked beneath you, ink-stained papers crumpling under your grip as pleasure coiled tight in your belly, sharper from the weeks of careful avoidance.
But now? Now he was everywhere, unhinged and hungry, his free hand gripping your thigh hard enough to leave marks as he fingered you through your climax, his name a broken chant on your lips.
"Ohhh Gods, Fisher... mmmnph yes yes yes..."
The aftershocks still trembled through you when Kingfisher finally pulled his fingers free, his lips glistening as he licked each one clean. His eyes never left yours; darkened emerald, ravenous, the way he only ever looked when you were beneath him and coming undone.
He grinned coyly as he stood, kissing your swollen belly gently before readjusting your gown, and yet again reminding you exactly why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place.
PART 2 of games & hangout with peter hcs.
PART 1 here!
requested by: @taeraxoxo
peter maximoff x f!reader
🍵 ‼️: long headcanons ahead. fluff. emotionally and physically clingy peter. peter stealing midnight snacks from the convenience store. lot of things happening with too much energy (welp, it's peter).
-Is now fully convinced that this is a sign from the universe that he’s gonna win you at the end.
-His mind is currently racing at super speed, desperately trying to make plans that will extend the night with you.
-He doesn't want the night to go by fast. Not when today felt like a double win. Imagine getting to experience hanging out and gaming with his best friend a.k.a his crush and now a sleepover?
-The funny thing is that he’s Peter Maximoff. A guy who speeds up almost everything, but suddenly finds himself realizing that there are moments worth experiencing slowly.
-You guys continued gaming for the night. Either laughing and screaming together or laughing and screaming at each other.
-He knows that all these laughing and screaming could possibly knock you out later so his mission for tonight is to keep you interested before you get tired tonight! Yes, it’s that serious for him.
-After all those laughing and screaming, he immediately tries to distract you with “OH. WAIT! I have something to show you!” before you get to realize that you’re slowly about to get knocked out trying to catch up with this guy’s energy.
-That just doesn’t end there! He planned more as if this was a serious mission. (for him it is)
-He’ll suddenly keep remembering something urgent like: “WAIT.. I never showed you my favorite level..”
-He always brings out a: “One last thing!” excuse to keep yapping.
-Then you realize that it’s late.. 1AM. So you mention it to him. But he’ll be like “Yeah, time goes by so quickly when you’re gaming.” He commented casually. “But you know what 1AM means? Store run.”
-Before you could even process it, he speeds to the door of the basement, already holding open the door for you.
-The moment you two entered the nearest convenience store, you heard the cashier sigh to his co-cashier before speaking: “Look, it’s that silver haired guy that’s always here, touches everything but leaves empty handed.”
-You had to hold a laugh and the urge to tell them that it’s because Peter already stole half of the store’s twinkies before the automatic doors even finished closing.
-He keeps speeding down the aisles then would just pop up beside you from time to time holding different biscuits, chips, drinks while telling you that you have to try them.
-You both got too noisy and there’s this man with a cart full of liquor calling you both “kids” and telling you both that you guys are so loud.
-The man barely had time to blink. The man's cart that was just in front of him is now mysteriously across the aisle by itself, rolling down with a concerning speed while rattling loudly against the floor.
-Peter says nothing but he's smiling. Yep, he absolutely shoved the man's cart at super speed.
-He’ll suddenly disappear inside the store and you’ll spot him outside, using his head as a gesture, telling you to come out.
-”What the fuck, Peter? We haven’t even grabbed anything yet.” Then he opens his silver jacket. There we biscuits, chips, and candies. He’s also secretly holding two cans of sodas. “Go, go, go.” He tells you while holding in an evil giggle.
-Back in the basement, he convinces you to watch a movie with him while eating the snacks (yes he still wants to extend the night and now also trying to find a way to get close to you again).
-It’s another successful plan for him again. You guys were nearly cuddling.
-You both feel very comfortable, especially Peter. The comfort he’s feeling right now made everything in him calm and behaved.
-After the movie, Peter finally agreed for bedtime. He even lets you borrow one of his shirts.
-When he saw you in his shirt, it triggered his imaginations again, making him imagine that you’re already his gf who always sleeps in his shirts.
- You guys actually shared his bed.
-After you both said goodnight to each other, you guys settled in a position where your backs were facing each other.
-But in the middle of the night, you’ll wake up and feel that Peter’s hugging you.
-You realize that he’s an unconscious hugger.
-One leg thrown over yours, arm around your middle, and face half buried into the pillow beside you.
game on! ꒱ peter maximoff x gf!reader ⁞⁞ 18+ ; mdni
↳ sex bets, bjs, banter, little bit of hair-pulling ⁞⁞ wc: 0.5k ⁞⁞ a/n: reqs open for a bit!
okay. fine. so you were skeptical. if anything, your cynicism was indicative of how well you knew him, which was a nice way to spin it. and peter was kind of a slut. especially when it came to you.
so signs certainly weren’t pointing in his direction. in fact, the bet was so unfavorable to him that you could barely believe he’d been the one to make it.
“if you can make me cum before i beat a level, i’ll do the dishes all month,” he’d said some twenty minutes earlier, apropos of literally nothing, turning over his shoulder from where he sat at the foot of the bed.
now, though, he was singing a different tune. he had one hand fisted in your hair, one gripping the controller equally as tight. the game’s background music and soundtrack were interspersed by peter’s choked little grunts and gasps. “mm,” he grit out. “hah. this is—fuck—really easy, baby, you should—ah!”
you hummed around him, giving his ass a squeeze. his legs closed around your head, thighs pressing you even further down on his cock. your eyelashes caught in his pubic hair when they fluttered closed. you gagged intentionally and drew back, spitting the accumulated saliva onto his dick before resuming your task with exponential vigor. you didn’t want to wash the fucking dishes.
he shuddered and cleared his throat, muttering something about ‘sniping the fucking guy,’ even as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips jerked forward slightly, clearly resisting the urge to drop the controller and fuck into your mouth. he wasn’t slick.
on your next pullback, you glanced up at him through your lashes. his face was flushed, his jaw set, his eyes locked on the screen in front of him. “easy?” you taunted, not giving any time to respond before diving back in.
“yeah. shit, this is…fucking easy, m’ clearing them all out…” he said, voice shaking. his hips jittered again and you felt the muscles in his thighs contract. “are you even doing anyth—ohholyfuckbabe—”
you grin, laving your tongue up the length of him and then sucking hard. behind you, the controller clatters to the hardwood floor and another hand grips your hair. fuck yeah. winner.
his quips quickly dissolve into nonsensical gasps as he hooks his legs over your shoulders and begins face-fucking you in earnest. if not for his heavy thighs keeping you in place, you’d be multiple feet across the room, probably embedded in the screen now displaying red GAME OVER text. what can you say? peter’s got one hell of a thrust.
his cock fills your mouth, warm and a little salty; mostly just tasting like skin and peter. it’s heavy on your tongue, but you can breathe ever-so-slightly easier when he cums, spilling down your throat. dutifully, you swallow, mostly because you don’t feel like dealing with the mess that’d happen if you didn’t, then sit back on your knees and rest your head against his thigh.
his grip on your hair eases and his posture goes lax as his breathing evens out. he glances down at you, hazy-eyed and pink-cheeked, looking a little sheepish. one of his hands pets your hair, the other moving to the back of his neck where he rubs nervously. “...best out of three?”
the case of mr. dibbles
pietro and reader enjoy a calm time after some universe-ending threats by adding someone to their little family
cornelia street
mostly based on cornelia street by taylor swift. explores Pietro and readers relationship throughout the years, centered on an apartment on cornelia street
peter maximoff
attention [part 1] + confession [part 2]
[requested] peter keeps annoying you; and then you find out why
pacman
you notice that peter gets bored often and decide to make him a gift
seeing double
[requested] you have a twin...which causes a little trouble in paradise when peter forgets this
bob reynolds
headcanons (includes romantic x reader)
headcanons about bob + some about a relationship with you
thunderbolts*
headcanons (includes platonic x reader)
headcanons about the thunderbolts* + some with platonic x reader
Wow, it hasn't even been a day since I posted the poll asking about this (tbh, it hasn't even been half a day, that's how impatient I am), but I really wanted to write it... So I couldn't resist. Furthermore, of the 9 votes I've received so far, 6 have indicated they would be interested in reading. That's already 6 people interested in whatever it is I'm writing about. That encourages me enough to do it! ❤️
Here's my first one-shot after some time away, I hope you like it! And now I'll leave you to read in peace.
Pairing : Peter Maximoff×Speedster!Reader
Plot : It's not every day that Peter finds someone who can keep up with his speed. That's why, when he meets you, he feels an unrelenting need to be near you. That's annoying to you, but somehow he always finds a way to get under your skin.
Warning : Nothing +18. Fluff. Possible rivals to lovers and slow burn? Peter being Peter. Bickering. AFAB Reader.
AN¹ : It's a rather short one-shot, precisely because I haven't written in a while and I'm trying to reconnect with my style. That means a lot of text and very little dialogue. I really like to give details. Also, please note that all images are from Pinterest. None of them belong to me.
AN² : If you like it, I would really appreciate some comments to know your opinion!
“Fast love ”
Peter wasn’t used to people moving at his pace, quite the opposite. He had to force himself to match everyone else’s. Around him, people were… well, slow. The everyday rhythm of the world was boring to him. Maybe that was why he loved walking around with his headphones on, listening to music whenever he could; music made everything less tedious. That’s why, when he heard whispers echoing through the mansion, he couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity. “Have you seen her? She’s like a comet!” That was the first time he heard about her. About you.
That happened a couple of months ago. He woke up, as usual, almost at three in the afternoon, having spent the previous night gaming and fighting off insomnia. Regardless, he felt as if there was something different in the air, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why—until the whispers reached him. Who was everyone talking about? Curiosity ultimately won over his hunger
Following the crowd wasn't difficult; the younger mutants were swarming the school’s great lawn.
“Hey, furry!” Peter approached Hank, resting an arm on his shoulder. Beast didn't pay much attention, his eyes fixed on the stopwatch in his hand. “What’s everyone doing out here?”
“The Professor brought in a new mutant. He’s left her in my charge to test her abilities.” And that was the exact moment the peerless speedster saw everything in slow motion. Not that boring, dragging slow motion he saw in everyone else, not that heavy rhythm he usually had to endure. This was his slow motion.
A gust of wind blurred past him. His pupils dilated as he caught the silhouette of the mysterious mutant passing right in front of him. A confident, defiant smile played on her lips when, for a split second, your eyes met. Surely no one else noticed. Too fast for the world. But that was his speed. It was what he was used to, and he swore his heart skipped a beat when he saw you stick your tongue out at him.
You screeched to a halt as you crossed the finish line—a mark drawn in the dirt, likely with a shoe. The mutants around you clapped, impressed, and Hank paused the timer. You had covered the entire perimeter of the mansion in less than… ten seconds! And Peter felt his whole world start to shine a little brighter.
“Who is she…?” he asked himself, watching you wipe your brow. You hadn't even broken a sweat, but you were showing off as if you had. It was as if everything else faded away, and for a moment, he could only see you.
Flash forward. We said that was two months ago. Presently, life was becoming a constant nightmare for you. No matter where you went, no matter where you ran, you couldn't escape him. Wherever you tried to hide, Peter found you in the blink of an eye. He was a pesky shadow following you everywhere.
“Let’s go get ice cream! Want to watch a movie? Have you heard this song? What’s your favorite food? I love your hair! What’s your top speed?” He talked, and talked, and talked, and you felt like you just wanted to bolt to the other side of the planet just to hear your own thoughts. This guy wouldn't shut up! And the worst part wasn't his incessant attention—no. That was more bearable than his attempts at flirting. And you just wanted some time alone!
The other residents of the mansion watched your interactions with smirks on their faces. It was a surprise that Peter paid you so much attention, honestly. For someone who spent his days bored, drifting from one thing to another, playing ping-pong against himself, running here and there, and generally unable to focus on one thing at a time, this was impressive. But who were the others to question him? This was, by all accounts, a crush. A total infatuation. From the very first millisecond he saw you, you made him fall for you, and that was a nuisance… or was it?
You were fast. Very fast. But Peter was still faster. It was only a matter of time before he caught you… literally and figuratively.
“There you are!” you heard behind you. His voice made you cringe in place, closing your eyes as you fought the urge to tell him to get lost. “I was looking for you.”
“Gee, really? You looking for me? What a novelty, Maximoff…” you muttered under your breath, turning your head to look at him. You had tried to hide in the most secluded part of the garden, near the woods. But nothing! It didn't matter how far you went. He always found you.
Peter’s laugh reached you easily, just like he did. In a blink, he was already by your side, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You just frowned, brushing his hand off with a flick. You tried to run off, but he was already in front of you, crossing his arms with that annoying smirk.
“Oh, come on! Just… listen to me for a second, okay? I’ll leave you alone. BUT! Only if you beat me in a race.”
“…Are you serious?”
“Yeah, serious. A race. You win, I leave you in peace. I win, you owe me a date.” You felt like a lightning bolt had hit you. A shiver ran down your spine. Was this a joke?
“No, thanks.”
“Why? Don’t trust yourself to beat me?” You were about to turn around, but his words made you freeze. “Hmm… I should’ve guessed. You’re afraid of losing, aren’t you? Well, it makes sense. I don’t think you could’ve beaten me anyway. Forget it.” Peter turned on his heels, hands tucked into the pockets of his silver jacket. The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked away, and you, unfortunately, felt your face heat up with rage. The blood rushed to your head until the anger made you lose track of your own common sense.
You sprinted until you stopped right in front of him, arms crossed to meet his seemingly nonchalant gaze. But the grin that spread across his face made you realize you had just walked right into his trap. Oh. You were doomed, weren't you?
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he said. He knew your greatest weakness was that you were far too proud to actually turn down a bet like that.
