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earthpleasures · 3 months ago

Text

BON APPÉTİT !

Pietro Maximoff x fem!stripper!reader

Summary: Just a boring mission, what could do wrong?

Warnings: MDNI +18 / swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), body worshipping (m. receiving), dry humping, overstimulation, praise, nipple sucking, throat fucking, dom!reader, sub!pietro.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: istg some kind of horny demon took me over to write this

"'cause I'm all that you want, boy

all that you can have, boy

got me spread like a buffet

bon a, bon appétit, baby"

- bon appétit by katy perry.

Blinding lights of the strip club were pricking right into his eyeballs, making it hard to observe his surroundings. His hand rested on the header of the comfortable couch. He would be lying if he said the ongoing show wasn't appealing. However it wasn't why he was here.

He could run much faster than sound but he couldn't knock the formula this club's owner had in his palms. If Stark's calculations were right, and they always were, the tube carried formula may be made of bulletproof material but it wasn't going to stand the speed Pietro would be pushing on it when he runs.

Foolish, he thought.

He scoffed as he swirled his whiskey in its glass. Where the hell was this man? He couldn't possibly take news of mission and fly out of his grip. But Pietro's careful eyes couldn't spot the motherfucker.

As music came to an end, the crowd let out exaggerated protesting noises. Mood rose back to its original rhythm when new dancers took their places on stage. Another song began to play, one he could evaluate with the term ‘lively’ rather than the previous erotic one.

He really wanted to be done and go back to the compound. Obnoxiously loud sound of Katy Perry was going to damage his eardrums if they kept blasting the goddamn speakers like this.

Song was slowly rising to its peak, men and women around the strippers were throwing money every direction in the company of obscene profanities. Their desperation made him nauseated. Damn, some people have zero dignity.

It wasn't like he was going to catch the owner anytime soon, so he made a decision. Why not enjoy the show while time passes?

He couldn't choose who to watch, they were all dancing excellently. No wonder it says ‘VIP’ on the front. But that wasn't his concern anymore because his eyes, in fact, caught a girl.

Dusty pink hair, a black leather set left too little to imagine, painful looking heels.

There was no fucking way that hair was her own hair, it had to be a wig to look this perfect.

His eyes locked to her figure, moving flawlessly. On her knees, her body rippled against the pole with the roll of a professional, long crimson nails slowly climbed their way to her neck from her crotch.

‘Cause I’m all that you want, boy,

All that you can have, boy.

She stood up languidly and wrapped a leg around the pole. Letting herself fall backwards, she arched back, pushing her breasts up. Arms extended forward like she wanted everyone to reach her, touch her. From the distance, he could barely read a line from her lips.

Bon appétit, baby.

He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on his leather couch. The pants he wore began to tighten around his lower body, he could feel the sweat beads rolling from his neck all the way down to his abs. This wasn't good.

Nudging a palm over his obvious erection didn't relieve any tension his stressed body carried. He bit inside of his mouth, chewing on his cheek's tissue. His fingertips itched to touch, to feel.

After a swipe of his tongue over his lip, he raised his hand slightly, signaling a waiter to come closer. Waiter looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Anything sir?” He pointed at the dusty pink haired girl on the stage. “What's her name?” Waiter turned his head back to pinpoint the stripper in question. A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Nice taste. Celestia.”

When Pietro narrowed his eyes with a confused who the fuck would name their child ‘Celestia’ stare, he couldn't contain his snicker. “It's her stage name. We’re not allowed to give out their real names unless they're willing.” Pietro wanted to laugh, atleast club gave their strippers some rights.

“Makes sense. I want a room for Celestia.” Waiter nodded as he noted down his name. “Enjoy your ride, buddy.” He smirked before refilling his whiskey glass. Pietro didn't say anything back to the man as he retreated to the suffocating crowd.

When show came to an end, one of the waiters headed in his direction and gave him a ticket-like paper. The red, glowing calligraphic sign was placed in the right direction of his seat.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his weight up to make his way. The hallway was long, housing many rooms, different light colors were leaking from under the doors of some of the rooms. Music sounds were almost deaf to ears, he guessed the rooms to be soundproof.

Attendant unlocked the door for him after checking his room's number. Before letting him in, he stopped Pietro. “As I can see, it's your first time here, mate. There are two rules. You have twenty minutes with stripper and it is absolutely forbidden to touch stripper.” After a nod of his head, he was allowed in.

The inside was as good as he expected. A pole, white leather couch and lights were placed in the room. Black walls surprisingly didn't feel claustrophobic. It didn't seem like any camera was placed around.

His palms were sweating, perhaps from excitement, perhaps from stress.

Couch was comfy, it felt like sinking into the clouds. His breath hitched when he sensed a click on the door handle. Adjusting his position, he gulped down the lump sitting on his throat. I shouldn't do this. I am here for a mission. This is so wrong. Wanda is going to kill me-

His flowing thoughts were cut with her entrance. He could see the sinister lust emitting from her eyes, doubting she looked at all of her clients with such intensity. “So, today's delight is you.” She mumbled as she came closer step by step, quicking his pulse unnecessarily.

She licked her lips while dropping her hands on his knees. Leaning forward, her red painted lips ghosted over his ear. “Interesting to see a thing like you here.” One of her hands fastened on header of the couch to help herself as she strangled his lap. She groaned in surprise when his hard-on pressed against her.

“Woah, you're a big boy, aren't you?” All he could do was to look up to her like a stupid puppy, waiting for her to do something since he couldn't touch her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, rocking her hips back and forth against his clothed cock. He moaned through his clenched teeth. ‘Fighting his inner demons’ would be the name he would give to his urge of groping the tits in front of his eyes and mouth.

“You would’ve felt so good inside.” She pouted mockingly, her hand running on his hair. “But we ain't getting time for that.” A subtle chuckle left her lips. “Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?” His lips quivered before answering her question.

“No, it's just… you. You're so mesmerizing.” Well, it was too late to take his words back once they left his mouth.

I think my brain just short circuited.

“Aren't you a sweet talker?” She whispered as her manicured nails traveled down, trailing a line between his abs over his shirt. “Normally, I would've given you a nice lap dance and maybe some humping.” To press on her statement, she rocked her hips harder to his crotch.

“However, I decided to do you a favor.”

She got off of his lap. “What, no.” He reached out in a panicked state which was stupid due to no-touching policy. “Easy, I am here for the next sixteen minutes.” She smirked, standing over him with a hungry gaze. It's been so long since she had any actual intimacy with anyone and he looked like a delicious treat.

She got on her knees, her hands massaged his firm thighs. “God, men like you should be put in a museum.” She breathed as she ran her hand over his bulge. Her fingers didn't even fumble on his zipper, immediately pulling it all way down after she undid his jeans’ button. He lifted his hips to help her as she pulled his boxers and pants down to his ankles.

Her pupils dilated as she focused on his cock, it was resting on his stomach with a painfully red tip. Her thumb pressed on his tip, smearing bead of precum over his skin. He let out a pathetic whimper. “I-i.. is this o-okay?” He almost quacked during his sentence when she spat on his shaft and wrapped her hand around it.

“Probably not. But they will understand a girl in need.” She looked up to him.

Disheveled hair, hazy eyes, flushed cheeks. I want to swallow him.

He was getting impatient, but still didn't move. What was meaning of moving if he couldn't touch her?

It took just a lick from bottom to top for him to buck his hips. She held his hips firmly, settling him down. “No, no. Let me do my thing.” He bit his lips, maybe hard enough to withdraw blood. “Please, I've been waiting-” Her mouth suddenly enveloped his cock, taking it half way with her eyes observing his reaction.

He cried out due to shock, clawing at the fabric underneath his grip. His hand reached out to tangle his fingers to her hair, but before he could, she caught his hand. She pulled away from him. “No touching.”

Sizing up his strong figure, she made a shift on her plan. “Take off your shirt.” His trembling fingers peeled the tshirt of his body. She could feel her mouth going dry with the sight of his bare torso.

Before she could control herself, her fingers wandered on his firm chest and abs. His pale skin was stained with scars. Almost each of them looked like they were telling a different story.

She rose on her knees, running her tongue on his abs. Texture of the scars caught on her tongue, causing him to clutch onto one of the cushions and bite inside of his mouth.

She pressed her thumb on his nipple, feeling it harden under her touch. She circled her finger on his areola, wrapping her lips around the neglected one. A moan left his lips.

Satisfied and encouraging by the noises he let out, she draped her arms around his waist, pushing him against her mouth.

“W-wait-” She pulled away with a pop sound, leaving his chest aching. “What's wrong?” She asked as she pressed a kiss to one of his scars, then to another, then to another.

He looked down at her. “It's too-”

“Overstimulating? That's the purpose.” She smirked at his naiveness.

She sucked marks all over his chest, kissing each of the scars and soothing the ache she left with a run of her tongue. His labored breaths became unstable during her treatment. God, it fucking felt like being worshipped.

And finally she went back to her original plan. Hand wrapped around his shaft, she began to stroke him. “You're not some kind of loser who has no hole to fill, are you?” She planted a kiss over his tip. “You're different.”

She suckled on the tip, treating it like a tasty lollipop. “Well, can't say I care.” Without breaking eye contact she went down slowly, inch by inch. Even after all the times she gave a blow job, she couldn't deep throat him like she wanted to. His tip reached the back of her throat, hitting there repeatedly as she bobbed her head.

Tears filled her eyes, forcing her to let go of him. He didn't care about the shitty policy, running his thumb over her cheek and wiping her tears away. “You don't have to if it's hard for you.”

But she didn't let him rest, jerking him off when she didn't have him down to her throat. “But I want to.” Her free hand tangled her fingers to his, bringing it to her skin. “Touch me.” He raised an eyebrow.

“But I thought-”

“I am letting you.”

And that was enough for him. His both hands cupped her cheeks. He leaned down and smashed his lips against hers, tasting the smeared lip gloss and himself. Getting impatient, she pushed him back to the couch.

She put her hands on his thighs to balance her weight as he tugged at her strands pushing her all the way down even though she gagged around him. She hollowed her cheeks and pressed her tongue underside of him while he bucked his hips somewhat violently, fucking her throat on his pace.

She cupped his balls, massaging them to encourage his orgasm. She could sense his legs shivering under her palms. He was close. With thought of it may help, she moaned around him, and it worked.

He shot down rope after rope to her throat, not even allowing her to breath. Aftermath of the orgasm was violent on his body. His cock twitched as she pulled out and got up.

Strangling him again, it was her turn to kiss him. It was sloppy, teeth against teeth with a mix of lust and rush. He remembered the fact he was allowed to touch, so he did. His hand roamed on her skin, pressing her against his chest.

Red light illuminated the room. Time to part.

He wiped her lips with his shirt, fixing her hair as much as he could. “Will you be okay? What if your boss gets angry?” He questioned, hands softly placed on her waist.

She giggled. “He will understand. Women have urges too.”

He laughed. “You're a surprising woman.” He said as she got off his lap.

“Sure I am. And I would like to see you again.”

With one last peck over his bruised lips, she parted from the room. Leaving Pietro behind disheveled and exhausted.

Now, how was he supposed to explain the wasted time he spent in the club and the hickeys to the team?

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