#Silver Dollar Fish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

earthtooz · 2 years

Note

OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself.

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one.

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity.

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop.

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?”

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his.

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face.

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude.

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired.

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands.

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support.

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you.

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult.

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.”

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands.

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness.

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you.

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.”

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.”

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you.

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating.

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him.

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself.

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him.

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night.

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks.

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.”

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement.

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.”

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together.

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness.

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own.

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only.

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way.

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll.

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.”

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs.

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake.

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face.

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances.

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?”

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

#oh everyone is SO ooc but meh #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabble #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #kaiser x reader #isagi fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo drabble #reo fluff #kaiser fluff #kaiser drabble #isagi drabble

4K notes · View notes

ssweetleaf · 1 year

Text

old money.

pairing— mean old money!steve harrington x fem waitress!reader

w/c— 3.2k

♡ summary— whilst serving table number three for the evening, a certain someone catches your eye, though he soon turns out to be an asshole. you want more.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, mean dom!steve, he’s an asshole, bathroom sex, so kinda public i guess??, pussy eating from behind, degradation, calls reader stupid once, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v (use protection!!!), breeding kink, cream pie, no aftercare, little bit of spanking, bad ending, i repeat, BAD ENDING!!!

a/n— please let me know what you think! i kind of hate this and there’s like not much plot but enjoy!

˖ ࣪⭑

Life was repetitive.

You’d wake up, leave your sorry excuse of an apartment just to go to work— some fancy-shmancy restaurant that served over-priced food and too-expensive wine, home for the big-wigs and the rich. And then you’d go home, back to your roommate, back to your creaky bed and your ceiling that had a suspicious amount of mould growing— back to your less-than-perfect lifestyle, dreaming of being one of those little flings that hung off the million-dollar men that stepped foot into your workplace, money signs everywhere and diamonds around your neck.

Shit— a girl can dream, right?”

And that was how it went, over and over and over again, letting slimy men pet at your ass and maybe show them a little too much cleavage, flutter your lashes at them all coyly just to earn a rather hefty tip at the end.

You were starting to get pretty sick of it…

“Good evening, gentlemen, is there anything I can get you started with?”

It was late and you were serving table three— a big gaggle of bozos you assumed to have more money than you’d ever have in your life, keeping your eyes wide and speech sickly sweet, leaving a little sway in your hips, keeping your eyes on the prize at the end. God, you hoped they tipped well.

There was six of them, clad in fine suits and sparkling tie clips, already fishing around in their pockets for a light, cigarettes hanging limply out the side of their mouths. Though one stood out in particular, chestnut hair that almost touched his shoulders, honeyed eyes all hooded and swarming, angry looking, especially with the way his eyes furrowed—

“Hey, you listenin’ t’me?” You shook out of your stupor, your cheek ticking when he clicked his fingers in front of your face, earning a few chuckles from his little rat-pack when he leaned back to say, “Jesus, can’t get the service these days, am I right?”

“Apologies, Sir,” you replied, “what can I get for you?”

You would’ve almost said he was handsome until he opened his mouth, his stupid flashy cuff links glinting from the lamp that perched in the middle of the tablecloth, monogrammed SH, his initials, you supposed. He called for the finest scotch you had— the most expensive, ordering a round of glasses for the table and the whole bottle to be served, nothing less, finishing off his sentence with a quick, ‘stat’. He definitely wasn’t asking, though you couldn’t let that deter you, he definitely had the money, you knew that by the size of his Rolex.

So you made priority for his table, serving their spirit on a silver tray and handing each of them a crystal tumbler, finely cut with intricate details and pretty patterns— not that they gave it any notice however, quick when ushering you to pour like they hadn’t the time to do it themselves.

It was all going smoothly, moving around table three and trying to gather the least attention possible, pouring the same two fingers of whiskey, until you got to him. Shy under his gaze you leaned forward, feeling the heat of his gaze on your tits and he was quick to sit up suddenly, causing your hand to slip. A little spillage, nothing drastic, and with the way his lip quirked you knew he had done it on purpose.

“Really are testin’ my patience tonight, sweet cheeks—” he cocked a brow, one arm spread along the back of his chair, “you tryin’ to get yourself fired?”

Oh, fuck off.

“No, Sir,” you spoke quickly, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard just to stop the tears slipping from the embarrassment. “I’ll clean it up right away— excuse me.”

Back and forth, back and forth. To and from their table, spilt scotch all cleaned, soaked up by the crisp white of the serving cloth, the swift dabdabdab had your tits jiggling from underneath your uniform, and you tried not to clench your thighs together when he leaned back to get a good look at your ass.

You couldn’t be serious, getting hot under the collar for some rich asshole, finding yourself all too sugary-sweet once again, gazing at him from beneath your lashes when he ordered his main, sharp jabs flitting from the tip of his tongue when you stalled or stuttered— it only had you down worse for him.

You really were pathetic.

Eventually, the night had started to round off to a close, tables emptying, though the bar still busy with drunk men hunched over in their stools, it was most probable they were complaining about their wives, trying and failing to flirt with the barmaids.

You hurried back to the table you were waiting on, plates ridden from the cloth and piled high next to the sink in the back, ready for the poor dishwasher to see too, placing down the wooden box they had requested, flicking up the golden hinges with your thumbs to reveal their pompous cigars, cutting the caps off and handing them out one by one.

“Light it for me, would ya, honey?” Him again, staring up at you all dark and handsome, it had you inwardly swooning and you made sure to give yourself a slap once you got home.

“Yes, Sir.” You opened the lighter, silver and sleek, watching the flame come to life and flicker while you cupped a palm to shield any draughts. His lips looked so pink, pursed around the thick stick, his gaze heavy and set on you, sucking his cheeks in when he took his first drag, inhaling into his lungs and puffing it out right into your face.

Prick.

You excused yourself, almost finished for the night, eager to have a smoke and then get to bed— probably touch yourself over the thought of him- SH, whatever his name was. You wondered what it could be, the thought of asking him crossed your mind and you quickly shook it away, totally pathetic and really, really embarrassing.

You would never ever stoop so low and try to get with him— no matter if his bank account included seven digits, or his face was the prettiest you’d ever seen, he wouldn’t be able to afford you…right?

˖ ࣪⭑

“Oh, fuck— Steve!”

You weren’t sure what it was that caused you to comply with his request, a short, snappy, meet-me-in-the-bathroom-in-five kind of thing, smirk prominent on his lips, a toothpick limply hanging from his mouth, much akin to the cigarette the first time you had pressed eyes on him.

But whatever it was, it had you pressed against the counter in the woman’s bathroom, skirt hiked up and panties around your ankles, his face snug against your pussy from behind while he devoured your cunt as if he hadn’t had a full three course meal beforehand.

You had learned through teeth-filled kisses that his name was Steve— Steve Harrington. And you almost rolled your eyes at what an asshole-y name it was.

The whole ordeal was messy, his spit slick with your arousal, slipping down his chin and the length of his throat, saturating his once perfect shirt and tie— you were no better, makeup already ruined, lining your cheeks in long, black streaks, clumping your lashes from the constant tears that ebbed over your waterline. You made contact with your glassy eyes through the mirror, staring at your dumbified state before they started to roll back at a certain mean suckle to your clit.

You reached behind you, pushing your fingers into his chestnut hair, going to give the roots a little tug before his palm came down on your ass in a sharp smack.

“Not the hair.” He was stern, words muffled from your pussy and you would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the constant attention to your puffy clit. “Stupid girl.”

Steve’s tongue prodded at your hole, slipping inside with ease at how slick you were, the sudden intrusion causing you to clench around his appendage and you moaned out at the way it flexed against your walls.

You were surprised he even took the time to use his mouth on you, considering you thought he’d be selfish while you fucked, but the thought occurred to you that he enjoyed it— Steve Harrington ate pussy for his pleasure— it made a lot of sense.

“Please—” you whined, arching your back and simultaneously pushing your ass in his face, driving his tongue deeper into your cunt and he audibly growled at that— clutching at both ass cheeks and keeping you tight in place, right where he wanted you.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He spoke, it was almost hard to hear, especially over the way he slurped so crudely at your juices. “Wan’ me to pay more attention to that pretty little clit of yours, baby?”

You nodded, clutching tightly onto the edge of the sinks, knuckles aching from the constant tensing and you gazed at the door, no lock, just an emptying bar, and you hoped no woman wanted to use the restroom.

The mere thought of someone catching you in this position had your brain in a tizzy, swirling in a haze all hot and bothered, the prospect of losing your job not even encompassing your mind at all.

He stuck to his word, suckling the pearl of your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue against it and burying his face even further, shaking his head from side to side so filthily and urging a gasp out of you.

You knew he was smirking into you, you could feel it. Smug bastard.

And once you could feel the rope inside your belly tighten, tighter, tighter, so ready to snap— eager to cum and make a mess of his tongue, leave him to gulp down your cream and leave a little kiss to your clit as a thank you…he pulled away, biting at the fat of your ass and suckling his teeth marks into the flesh, your orgasm dissipating, the pleasure leaving your clit as achy as ever and the rest of your body completely unsatisfied.

You gulped down some much needed air, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuttering mouth, words stuck in your windpipe when you tried to speak, instead you hoped your expression conveyed what exactly you wished to tell him.

What the actual fuck, Steve?

“What? You thought I was gonna let you cum?” He cooed, mocking you with a pout and two condescending taps to your cheek once he got to his feet. “Y’seem a little desperate, honey, barely had my mouth on y’for two seconds.”

The smirk was back again, and yeah, maybe it had been the best head in your life, but it definitely wasn’t two seconds until you needed to cum. So yeah, fuck you, Steve.

There was a mindless pout on your lips, and you realised that must of been what he was mocking, your thighs rubbing together, still so slick and sensitive from your ruined orgasm and the way he spoke to you— all condescending and mean, it made you clench around nothing, made your cunt throb the more he spoke to you in that way.

“Please?” You were surprised the words managed to slip, staring back at him and craning your neck to see and it made him chuckle.

Steve clutched your chin between a thumb and forefinger.

“Aw, my poor girl—” he cooed, all sickly sweet and nothing like him, there was something behind it, a different meaning, though you weren’t sure what. “You wanna cum real bad, don’t ya?”

You nodded, sniffling back your un-shed tears and giving him your sweetest heart eyes, all wet and starry.

“I’ll let you cum, hon, don’t you worry.”

He gave another tap to your cheek, a little harder this time and you couldn’t ignore the little glint in his eye and the twitch of his cheek— then pressed a wet kiss to your mouth, an exaggerated ‘mwah’ coming from him at the action.

Finally, he started to work on his belt, fingers fiddling with the buckle to pull it free from the loops, pulling at the button to his slacks and unzipping them completely, letting them slip to his thighs.

And it was quite shocking, actually. Not only was he not wearing underwear, but his cock was huge— you hadn’t a clue how he even got that thing in his trousers in the first place, and you were even more baffled as to why you hadn’t had a good look at it before.

The tip was stupidly pretty, gleaming with pre-cum and you watched while he smeared it around with his thumb— his shaft all littered with thick veins, trailing down to heavy balls, so round and full of cum.

Shit, you thought, he totally had a reason for being such an asshole.

Steve pressed a big palm to your ass, spreading you open as much as he could with a single hand while his other held the base of his cock, pressing it against your opening and feeding it through with a chesty groan.

You could feel your walls stretching around him, trying to accommodate his impressive size all while he split you in half— he was mean about it too, pushing to the hilt and not giving you much time to adjust before pulling out, just to slam himself back inside.

So deep, so heavy— bordering on painful, but your pussy weeped for him and his pretty little massive cock.

“Fuck, look at you, bet you haven’t taken cock like this before, huh, baby?” He let a moan slip, and you were sure it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. “So fuckin’ pathetic, lettin’ me use you like a little whore.”

Your eyes were practically rolling to the back of your skull and you reached behind you, grabbing blindly at any part of him you could find, until he brought his own hand up to press it to the small of your back, holding it there and using it as leverage to fuck himself into you at a heavy pace.

He had the audacity to chuckle at the way you cried out, struggling under his grasp though pushing back against him with each thrust to get even deeper, desperate for him to fuck into your cervix and fill up your tummy with his sticky cum.

“Shit— Steve—”

“Can barely string a sentence together, sweet cheeks—” he grinned, “you must really like me, huh?”

You were babbling expletives and nonsensical verses, staring back at him through the mirror with watery, swarming eyes— clenching around him like a vice, almost too hard and he struggled and spluttered at the new found sensation.

“Fuck, that’s it—” he moaned, dipping his mouth to sponge sloppy, wet little kisses to the back of your neck. “You want that tip, baby, you gotta earn it. Gonna give you a big one, too, if you’re a good girl.”

There was a double meaning — you were sure, whining out at his filthy words and it was when you eventually stared back at your reflection that you agreed with him.

You were pathetic.

Tears streaming, lips all bitten and pouty, cheeks sheened with sweat and your hair stuck to your forehead— the weight of your tits about to fall out of your bra, the buttons on your blouse already popped off mere minutes before when he got his hands on you.

‘I’ll buy you a new one’, he’d said.

Money. Money. Money. Money. Money.

That was all he was, all he spoke about, all he cared about.

You were close, embarrassingly so, keening into him when the mushroomed tip of his cock jabbed into that special spot, the thick veins sliding against your gummy walls and splitting you in two.

“G-gonna—” you could barely get your words out, sobbing into the stuffy bathroom and leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool mirror.

“Gonna what, huh? Speak up, hon.” You could hear his smirk and the way the corner of his lip lifted, all clicky and slick, and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you weren’t so inebriated from his pretty cock.

“Cum.”

“You wanna cum?” He cooed, pulling out right to the tip to slam back inside you, heavy and hard, pushing you forward and bruising your hips. “How badly? Gotta let me know how much of a whore you are.”

“So badly, Steve— make me feel so good, better than anyone else—” you babbled dumbly, “wanna feel you cum in me, too.”

“You fuckin’ dirty girl.” His stomach muscles clenched, length throbbing at your want, “wantin’ a stranger to cum inside you— just isn’t good enough, sweetheart.”

He tried to click his tongue at you, wanting to mock you and tease, though the tut soon morphed into some kind of stuttered groan when you clenched and fluttered around him continuously.

“F-fuck, you really wan’ it, huh?” His thrusts were starting to grow sloppy, and his hold on your arm grew lax. “You really want my cum— fill you up and get you nice ‘n’ round, hm?”

You nodded fervently, helping him out and doing most of the movements yourself, his mouth agape and face flushed when you stared at him through the mirror while he watched the space where the two of you met.

“Have to wait until I cum, then you’ll have your turn.” He rushed out, grabbing a good hold of your hips, kneading at the fat before pressing his chest to your back— starting his pace back up and fucking into you like a mutt in heat, chasing his orgasm with a heaving chest and a pumping heart.

One, two, three long pumps, he stilled inside you, shooting his load deep inside and stuffing you full of that old money prodigy, and you took it greedily, milking his cock of every last drop, whining out at the warmth that flooded your cunt.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby— can’t waste a drop, gotta keep it all in.”

You expected him to continue after he had stilled and calmed down a little, get you off and make you cum— however as soon as his high had worn off and all the sparkles and stars in his irises had started to fade, he pulled out of you, long, stringy lines of cum connecting you to him and his cock was slick with your arousal, a thick ring of your cream slicking the base.

Steve reached for your panties that were still hooked around your ankles, pulling them up and letting them snap sharply around your waist, tugging them snug against your pussy so his cum saturated the already dampened cotton.

Speechless, you watched him tuck himself back inside his slacks, pulling up the zip and popping the button before reaching into his back pocket and tugging out his leather wallet, thick and bulging with notes and credit cards and he flicked through the hundreds, taking a wad out and pressing them flat on the counter next to you.

Your tip.

“You promised—” you squeaked out, referring to how he had promised you dearly that he’d let you cum once he was inside you. Fucking lying little son of a bitch—

With one final slap to your ass he headed for the door.

“See ya around, sweet cheeks.”

✰

tagging <3—

@lou-la-lou @paladinshenanigan-blog @bleachvibez @qardasngan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #old money!steve #old money!steve harrington #old money!steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

939 notes · View notes

elthecreator · 11 months

Text

Club Banshee

Ellie Williams x black! Reader

a/n: First fanfic I hope you enjoy it my loves<3. Also if you are not black you can still read it too lmfao. This is just for my black girls. In the future I will do more poc so everyone can feel included.

I also recommend you listen to the song above as you read this cause 😮‍💨. This shit took me 4 days and 4 nights. The word count is too damn many.

Warnings: SMUT! Very Rough and aggressive sex, Oral, Slight spanking, Mean ellie!, dom ellie, bottom r!, submissive r!, begging, praising "good girl", intense teasing, build up. joel and ellie fluff. r! and ellie fluff WLW.

It was one of those nights again. Those nights where you would just so do anything to get some shit off your mind. For ellie it was one of those nights, her and joel had a huge fight earlier. Once again the two fighting because they both loved each other. But tonight.. Ellie said some things she shouldn’t have. She ended up storming out of the house, not really having a ‘plan’ of where to go in that moment. But the guilt was eating her up. No amount of alcohol could get her mind away from their fight. So after about a concerning amount of beers, she stumbles into a strip club.

“Club Banshee” it was titled in bright purple neon strobe lights, at the top of the building. As soon as she walked in she saw a bunch of people. Although, It was 1 am on a Thursday night so of course there were a bunch of people. Female and Male. 99% of those males are married of course. The creep looking types, type of dudes with a wife and three kids. Not surprised though. A bunch of neon green and purple lights surrounded the area.

Making Ellie feel even more tipsy.

Girls danced up on the silver poles on the stage. Revealing outfits, heels and the smell of perfume and alcohol mixed. The dudes tipping the girls on the stage. Ellie sat at a bar nearby, unzipping her jacket. She wore a navy dark blue hoodie underneath her grey jacket, and her classic rough fabric jeans. Letting out a frustrated sigh before ordering more beer. While waiting she glanced at the stage.

Sleek bodies dancing scandalously on the stage. Such seductive creatures....it made between her legs start to throb. Trying to ignore her urges her beer finally came. A girl with short maroon fluffy hair and sharp winged eyeliner served her the beer.

"So why are you here tonight?" She asked curiously to the drunken ellie. Trying to make conversation as she wiped the bar island down.

"Actually, let me guess. Your husband is not pleasing you? Oh! divorcing? Or an alcoholic?" She said immediately trying to estimate why she was here.

Ellie chuckled lightly as she took a sip of her beer bottle. Now sarcastically questioning. "Do I look like I have a husband?" She said looking back at the waitress, one of her eyebrows raised slightly.

"..No not at all" She said chuckling a little back. "My apologies, that's all we get around here. It makes it a guessing game now you know? Plus..I may have had too many to drink." She said snickering

"So, why are you here then? I can't think of any other reason?"

She asked again curiously.

Ellie took a sip of her beer before replying. "Sometimes you want to take shit off your mind."

"Oh..yeah I know what you mean." She said nodding her head looking and listening to her.

Ellie nodded her head back at her. Letting out another frustrated sigh. The waitress now spoke again as she noticed Ellies frustration.

"You know, their having a show tonight? One of the solos. You should stay.. relax. Sometimes if your lucky enough some of the girls will let you take them home." She said winking at Ellie. Now walking away to go wash some glasses.

The drunken Ellie sat there reasoning about what the lady said.

Taking another sip of her beer, getting up from the stool. Leaving a twenty dollar tip for how generous the waitress was. Approaching a seat to watch the stage. Beer bottle in hand. Sitting down on the velvet seat man spreading in front of the stage, brushing a piece of her brown hair behind her ear. It had came out her half up half down usual style. The lights started to get a little dim as the two girls on the stage made way for another. One on each side as another one came from behind the curtain filled the middle of the stage.

There you were. Your curly afro that sat up perfectly. Silk soft dark brown curls. You reeked of oils and incense. Sweet scents.. the type of scent you smell once and never smell again. Pretty and polished. Your natural curves..your slender arms. Your tiny waist and wide hips. Eye candy to all around you. Putting everyone in a trance as you walked on stage. In your black corset with silk red ribbons. Your tiny black skirt stopping mid thigh. Red platformed heels with more red silk ribbon that wrapped around both your ankles matching your corset. Your boobs perfectly popped out your corset. Your mocha brown skin shimmering in the strobe light. Starting to now swerve and sway around the sleek silver pole. So carefully..so slow you turned. Mysterious and alluring you were on that stage. There was just.. something about you. You were different than all the other girls on those poles. You didn't give it all away. You didn't immediately throw yourself at these women and men. You weren't so desperate. Thats what made you so seductive. Alluring..everyone wandered about you. Not being able to keep their eyes away. You took your time on that pole. Curves all in the right place..arching your back perfectly when needed. Everyone was under your spell. All. Eyes. On. You.

Ellie was fucking bricked. Watching you as you made your entrance. Arching your back on the pole. Dropping down to your ankles slowly..swaying around the pole. All so slowly. The sound of your heels clicking after each sway made her throb. The song in the background playing as you trapped everyone in. Bathroom by Montell Fish. She couldn't keep her damn eyes off you. Manspreading in the seat as she took a sip from her beer bottle. Feel the heat between her legs get intense. Everyone around the room watched you. You weren't even seen as just sex appeal or a sexual object. Everyone was admiring your beauty. Your long legs..your silk curls. Admiring your presence. Especially Ellie. Her eyes continued to trail on you throughout your whole solo. Eventually the other girls on the side of the stage had left. It was just you. All eyes on you. She was arroused and mesmerized by your performance. Every so often you would glance back at her too. The tension in the room getting hotter.

Your performance had now ended. The lights starting to come back on. Everyone around you clapping and whistling loudly. Ellie was clapping too. Ellie went back to the bar for now, unable to get you off her mind. Drinking yet another beer. When you came out from backstage heading over to the bar. Sitting right beside her on one of the stools at the bar island. Wearing a big coat over your scandalously revealing outfit.

“Can I get two margaritas? Please?” You say in your sweet sounding tone. A little raspy and a little pitched. Perfect. Ellie glanced over at you over a split second, surprised to see you here.

You and the waitress talked a little bit, the waitress obviously knowing most of the strippers here. But Ellie could tell you two were a little closer. Ellie stayed quiet, sipping her beer. Until when you and the waitresses were done with your conversation. You looked over at Ellie with a bright welcoming smile.

“Hey, you were watching my show right?” You said looking over at Ellie.

Ellie looked back at her. “Oh, yeah I was. Your pretty good.” She said a little froze up. Caught off guard you would speak to her.

“Thanks.” You replied smiling.

“Why are you here tonight?” You said trying to maintain conversation. Taking a sip of your margarita.

“I’m here because I’m a dick.” She exclaimed frustratingly.

“..you’re not a dick.” You said looking over at her with a concern look on your face.

She chuckled a little before looking over to you. “Baby you don’t even know me.” She responded.

“I know that we all make mistakes. We all say things we don’t mean in the moment.” You said looking back at her. Taking another sip of your margarita.

“I guess. It’s just irritating …fighting with someone because you love them so much.”

She expressed breathing out.

Taking a few seconds to respond before asking. “Girlfriend?” You asked curiously. But also knowing what you were doing.

Ellie snickered at the question. “That obvious?” She was referring to herself looking so much like a lesbian.

“A little.” You said laughing with her.

Ellie smiled slightly. “No, not a girl. My dad.”

You were nodding trying to relate.

Your boobs sat up perfectly in your corset. All pushed up and shimmery looking from the glitter.

Ellie couldn’t help but stare at them. Wondering what they would look like without that stupid corset. This is when the tension started to rise. Your voice brought her back into reality, she’s was trapped in her dirty thoughts.

“Doesn’t mean..it’s a bad thing.” You said referring to the girlfriend comment you made earlier. Quick to look away.

“Oh?. Care to elaborate?” She said said with a slight smirk on her face as she took another sip from her beer. Intrigued, in what you meant.

“You know what I mean.” You said chuckling lightly. Flustered even. Starting to obviously flirt with her. Seeing if she would do the same.

“If you think I’m attractive just say that.” She said halfway joking like she usually does. That smug smirk still on her face.

“Don’t get too cocky miss.” You said teasing her.

“I’m not cocky if it’s the truth. You aren’t bad looking yourself.” She expressed as she looked at you. Couldn’t stop staring at your boobs pushed up against your corset. Feeling herself began to have that ‘throbbing’ feeling she had when watching you on that pole again.

You grinned. Mocking her. “Care to elaborate?”

You said proudly.

She laughed. From there on the two of you talked and flirted all night. Talked about sentimental topics, Ellie even told you about Joel. You told her about you and your journeys as she did the same. The both of you clicked, she got to know you as a person a little bit not just seeing you for your body. The waitress poured the two of you drinks all night long. Only making Ellie wanna talk to you more.

The club started to close and so did the bar. You were putting on your coat getting ready to go suddenly when Ellie stopped you.

“Hey I uh..forgot to give this to you earlier.”

She muttered as she stopped you. Handing you twenty dollars.

“You were pretty good up there. That’s all I brought right now I was extremely drunk.” She complained, face palming herself gently.

You smiled brightly in Awe. “Thank you miss?”

You questioned realizing you hadn’t got her name.

“Ellie.” She replied smiling. “And you are?” She questioned back at you.

“Y/N”

The both of you talked so much and we’re wrapped so much in conversation you forgot to get one another’s name.

“Hey um. You know you could come to my place? Just to.. ‘talk’.. I’m pretty sure Joel’s asleep.” She nervously asked.

"I would love to." You replied. Trying not to seem too excited.

Soon enough the both of you arrived at Ellie’s house. Joel was in fact asleep, Ellie stood in the doorway of his bedroom watching him for a moment. Still feeling a little guilt. Walking over to his bed tucking him in comfortably as he slept. Walking out of the room quietly closing the door. Going back to meet you in her room. She had band posters all over her walls. AC DC, Nirvana, Korn, Slipknot, Paramore, and Rob Zombie. You name it and it was there. She had a guitar in the corner with a huge bean bag. She closed the door behind her when coming back in, approaching you taking off your big coat. You stood there in your black corset with red ribbons. Sitting down in the bean bag. Looking around the room curiously with your eyes.

"You have good taste in music." You said smirking at her from across the room.

"Thanks. Rocks my favorite genre." Ellie added to your comment, smiling back at you as she made her bed. "You want anything? Thirsty? Hungry?" She said glancing over to you. Wanting to make sure you were alright.

"I'm alright, thanks for asking." You expressed. Liking how she cared.

From this point forward, Ellie couldn't stop her disgusting thoughts. Your skirt was too short. Stopping at your mid-thigh, she swore she could see your black laced panties from across the room. Your breast kept pushing up further against your corset. Driving her fucking insane. All of it was driving her insane. Your scent in the air of her bedroom, smelling like fresh Lavendar or baby oil. She could feel herself throbbing. Wanting to just devour you right there on that damn bean bag while Joel was asleep.

She wasn't the only one aching in that moment, you kept crossing your legs while sitting down. Hoping to stop your ache between your legs. Fuck, her hands. Her fucking hands. The tattoo that went down her arm. The muscles in her fingers, how she looked like she could pick you up with one hand. The constant serious look in her face like she has killed 100 men.

Her stupid hair that drove you nuts. Or her musk. Smelling like fresh rain and alcohol. Or her stance, that damn stance she would sit in. Man spreading every time she sat down. The way she drank that beer. She was driving you to the edge. The both of you yearning for one another hungrily. Ellie sat on the bed on the other side of the room. Attempting her best not to look at you, scrolling on her phone.

You made up your mind. Abruptly walking over to her. Immediately straddling yourself on her lap instantly starting to kiss her aggressively. With no warning whatsoever. She reacted just as quick as you did, throwing her phone to the side of the bed instantly. Grabbing your hips as she kissed you back. You grinded yourself roughly against her crotch. The rough fabric of her jeans rubbing on your thighs. Ellie was completely caught off guard, but boy did she follow your lead. She grinded up into you as the two of you continued to suck faces. Dry humping each other on her bed. Her tongue exploring your mouth as she started to grab your fat ass. She groaned feeling your ass against her crotch. She started to go for your neck, aggressively pecking at it. It was like she couldn’t wait to get her fucking grimy hands on you. Leaving marks all down your neck, trails of them down to your breast. You whimpered trembling as she cupped your breast. Immediately kissing them in your corset. Your fingers twirled around her hair as she continued to leave marks on you. You breathed out into her ear. Groaning quietly. She held you up on her lap with her hands on your hips for support.

“Take this shit off.” Ellie demanded. Hungrily attempting to take it off of you. You helped her take it off. Your breasts now exposed to the cool air. She stared at them for a moment, her face an inch away from your brown nipples.

“Your fucking beautiful.” She exclaimed looking up at you. Her words caressed your heart, making you feel like the most perfect woman on planet earth right now. After her encouraging words, like a shot she started going on an absolute rampage on your boobs. Burying her face in them, sucking hard. The sounds of her slurping and sucking filled the room. So did your soft moans. “..fuck..Ellie..”’ A chorus of those exact words. She was so aggressive with it. Your nipples were already hard she just made them grow harder in her mouth. Your clit throbbed inside your panties. Sleek liquids began to slip out your pussy. Ellie groaned as she sucked on your breasts. She had waited all night to do this. Clearly. She came back up to kiss you deeply. Aggressively. Like she couldn't get enough. You were intoxicating, and she was going to make sure you knew that. Hostilely tearing your skirt off you. Lying flat on your back on the bed, she crawled on top of you. Spreading your legs wide for her. Slithering her hand down your stomach between your legs. Rubbing your swollen clit.

"Fuck. Right there." You expressed, your lips pressed against her ear.

She pushed one finger inside of you while rubbing your clit.

"Fuck your so wet for me.." She groaned during the process of pleasuring you. Your soft moans filled the room, the both of you trying to do all of this without waking Joel who was just down the hall. Ellie leaned on the side of you, her face buried in your neck while she stretches you out. "Such a pretty pussy." She whispered against your neck. "..mmmm....fuuckkk." You groaned.

"You think you can take two fingers baby?" She said exiting her finger out of you. You agreed obediently, she was being so gentle with you. For now. She slowly pushed both her fingers inside of you. You winced a little in pain. "Shh...I'm right here." She mumbled against your cheek. Slowly moving both her fingers in and out of your glistening pussy. As time passed she began to go faster. Thrusting her fingers in an ‘in out’ motion. You clutched on to the sleeve of her hoodie on her arm as time had go on. Throwing your head back and rolling your eyes in the back of your head from pleasure. She was stretching you out, perfectly. Making sure you were nice and ready for her cock. “Look at you taking my fingers so well. Good girl.” She purred looking at you beneath her. “Your legs spread open for me like a fucking slut.” She said bluntly in your ear as she continued to fuck you faster with her fingers.

“..fuck…” You whimpered in her ear.

She put an end to stretching you out, pinning you to to the bed before standing up.

“Don’t move.” She said glaring down at you on the bed. She was walking over to her dresser, clearly scouring for something. Meanwhile she was doing that, you quietly got up from the bed coming from behind her. After she specifically told you not to move your ass. She turned around feeling you behind her. “What did I say?” She spoke bluntly. You dropped to your knees starting to unbuckle her leather belt around her rough fabric jeans. Looking up at her from the ground.

“Let me make it up to you.” You said unbuckling her pants. Slowly pulling down her panties. She watched you from above looking down on you on your knees. She was aching hard. Your face inches away from her bare pussy. You started with a gently teasing lick on her outer lips. All while staring up at her. Ellie spreaded her legs more for you, giving you better access. That’s when you buried your face in her pussy. Sucking her clit and slurping her folds. A chorus of “mm..” sounds came from you as you ate her out. She held up your curly Afro for you so your hair didn’t get in the way. Throwing her head back grunting. “Fuck.” Ellie moaned bluntly. She was DRENCHED. So wet her juices were dripping down your chin. She had been soaked for you all night long. Your tongue swayed around her entrance. She was moaning more than she thought she would. Trying to cover her own mouth so she wouldn’t wake up Joel who happened to be down the hall.

“That’s right..fuck…make it up to me you filthy slut.” She groaned, pushing your head farther into her pussy. You could barely breathe, but you didn’t care and Ellie sure as hell didn’t.

She eventually let you up to breathe a little bit. You panted, your head against her leg breathing. “Now, go get on the bed.” She demanded watching you follow. Ellie found what she had been scouring for in the drawers. A pink strap on. 7.5 inches, 1.5 width. She walked over to the bed you were lying on. Taking off her shirt, now only in her sports bra. God. You watched her peel every piece of fabric off her body. Her toned stomach and thighs. Her muscular body. Fuck.

“Get on all fours.” She demanded watching you comply. You were in a doggy stance but held yourself up with your hands.

“Ah ah, no. Hands behind your back.” She demanded again. Such an uncomfortable position for you. But she didn’t seem to care. The pleasure was too much for you to even care. She started to put on the strap on. Ready to fuck your brains out. Using her knees to open your legs wider for her. “Arch your back some more for me baby.” Ellie whispered, you obeyed once again. Her sleek long cock started to enter you. You felt full already. Setting herself up behind you, her hands gripping your wide hips. She was starting to move. You let out breaths of relief feeling her start her rhythm. She held your hands in place behind your back. With the other hand she gripped your hip. “You have to stay quiet, we cannot wake up Joel.” She said kissing down your back, continuing her rhythmic movement behind your ass. “I make no promises.” You said teasingly grinning into the mattress. She grinded into your pussy. Your dark pinkish clit swelled up as she fucked you from behind. She kissed your neck a few times before coming back up to her stance. Warning you. “This is the last time im being gentle with you y/n.” You gulped quietly. “Do whatever you want with me.” You groaned. She grinned, her abdomen getting closer to your ass. Her nails digging in your hips, starting to fuck you hard. With no count down, no warning. She slammed into you repeatedly. The bed began to creak loudly. You could hear her grunt behind you.

"Fuck. Just like that..just like that. You whimpered into the mattress. She tightened her grip on your wrists. Continuously slamming into you. Your pussy swallowed her cock repeatedly. Your pussy growing wetter than earlier, Ellie being just as wet. Every time she slammed into you the strap on would grind into her pussy making her grunt each time. Wet sounds echoed in the room. A creaking bed moving every time Ellie did so. Your toned ass cheeks slapping against her abdomen. The sounds of your whimpering began to fill the room.

All you did was fuss. You wouldn’t shut up. Your face was buried so far into that fucking mattress you swear the patterns on it made indents on your cheek. “Face down, ass up.” Ellie ordered. You were starting to come out of your position because of how hard she was ramming into you. She held you in place with one hand. The other still on your hip. Her muscles flexing as she held you into place. “Please. I c-can’t. It’s too fucking much.” You muffledly whined with your head buried into the bed. “Thats too fucking bad isn’t it?” She said smirking, forcing you to take it. Take her cock. Take it all in. You started to come out of your position again. Noticing that she slapped your ass hostilely. So harsh you had a red hand mark on your ass. “Hold. Fucking. Still. What did I just say?.” She said slapping you again. Making you yelp in pain but pleasure. With no response from you she slapped you again. “What did I fucking say?!” She yelled trying not to wake up Joel. “..hold still.” You panted out. She continued to slam into you only harder this time. Wanting to teach you a lesson. You stayed in place, not daring to move anymore. The tension rose between you two. The bed creaking, the sweat, the uncomfortable position that also gave you so much pleasure. How rough she was with you. How the both of you still had to remain silent or you were going to wake up her dad. The adrenaline rush. All of it added to your pleasure. High off of sex. Your current mood.

“..gonna..cum soon.” You said nearly above a whisper. Your words broke into syllables due to her ramming behind you making you vibrate. “Mm..you cum when I do.” She whispered. Her voice raspy and low. She stopped for a moment. “..why did you stop…?” You said disappointed. “Shh.” She whispered, now leaning closer to your back. Grabbing on one of your boobs with one hand. The other keeping your wrists locked behind your back. “Don’t make a sound.” She breathed against your ear. Darting into you the fastest she could go. Too fast. Making you take the whole thing. She squeezed your boob as she continued to fuck you harder than she did before. It was like she was challenging you. Testing you to see how much you could take. How long you could stay quiet. She was trying to break you. It was like Ellie found pure joy in this. “Fuck!!” You cried out loudly. Loud enough your moans echoed Into the hall. After she specifically told you not to make a sound. You couldn’t help it, she unexpectedly darted into you with no warning whatsoever. She quickly covered your mouth, tightly. “You have to be quiet! Your going to wake up Joel.” She whispered in your ear as she fucked you. You couldn’t help but make sounds. Muffled cries filled the air. You could hear her grunting harder behind you. “Fuck.” She groaned. Your juices and cum slithered onto her strap. You were tearing up, the pleasure was too much. It was all too much for you. Ellie didn’t give a fuck. She was going to make you take it. She shoved her fingers in your mouth. Making you suck. You deep throated her fingers, sucking them. Tasting her flesh. Starting to choke she took them out. You were attempting to speak. Trying to tell her to stop. But all your words came out in whimpers and syllables. Not being able to form sentences. “I know baby I know.” She cooed softly in your ear. “Your being so good for me. Such a good girl.” She praised you. Ellie groaned in your ear. Starting to feel her climax reach it’s end. Your pussy was so slippery on her cock. Both of you throbbing to cum. “m’gonna cum.” She moaned softly against your neck. “God..you feel so fucking good y/n.” She said whining. The praise felt good. The both of you starting to go over the edge. Your highs going too far. “I’m gonna cum!” You cried into the mattress. “I’m right here baby. I’m right here.” She groaned still holding onto your right boob. Heaved breaths filled both of your ears. Feeding off of one another’s high. “Oh fuck!” She cried, reaching her climax as you did so too. Cumming into one another. Your cries were choked up. Eyes rolling into the back of your head. Her hand remaining over your mouth. Gasping for air as you came. Orgasming both of you together. Her strap was absolutely soaked. Your cum all over it her cum all over it. Sticky and warm. Ellie heaved in her breathing. Trying to catch her breath. She had let go of your wrist. Still laying on top of you. You panted heavily. Both of you coming down from your high. She flipped off of you to the other side of the bed. Taking off the strap throwing it on the floor. You remained beside her. Both of you heavily breathing, exhausted.

Heavily breathing in silence for a moment. Just staring up at the ceiling before she says.

“No man at that club has fucked you that good before, huh?.” She said chuckling. Cracking jokes after sex.

“Cocky.” You said chuckling. You were a little far from her. She patted a spot close beside her. You crawled over. Laying your head on her chest. You could hear her heavy breathing slowly come down. Her arm over your shoulder. Both of you naked. “That was amazing.” You said closing your eyes. Ellie smirked a little. “We should do it again some time.” She said looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah.” You agreed, starting to get up off the bed. About to put your shirt on before she stopped you. “Hey, where are you going?” She questioned you, sitting up. Watching you getting ready to leave. “I’m a stripper baby. I’m guessing that you want me to leave now.”

You said in a disappointed tone as you started to put your panties on. “I don’t want you to leave.” She said bluntly. You turned around to look at her surprised. “You don’t..?” You said stopping in your tracks. “No.” She voiced. Patting the same spot you had been in once before. You hesitatingly crawled up on the bed. Lying beside her with your head on her chest. Ellie tucked you in with her and the white/sage green mixed covers. She looked at you for a minute, analyzing your features. “May I touch your hair?.” She blurted out. Asking for permission before she touched your Afro. “Yes” you said with a smile. Butterflies in your stomach. It’s always good to ask to touch a black girls hair. She placed her slender fingers in your delicate dark curls. Your hair was thick. Smelling like rosemary oil and lavender. Your curls were a good inch down your back. Twirling her fingers around your strands. You spoke. “..usually everyone wants me to leave after….you know.” You said in a sour tone. “Well everyone should know your a human being with feelings too.” She expressed, still playing with your hair. You could feel your heart flutter. For once you felt like not just a ‘one night stand’. “How long have you and Joel been together..?” You said after some silence. Ellie chuckled a little. “Too long.” She said jokingly. The both of you snuggled up to one another’s warmth. In the covers. “That’s how me and my mom were.” You said closing your eyes.

“You two don’t talk anymore..?.” Ellie asked carefully. Not wanting to push your buttons or anything. “No. Not really. I miss her though. A lot.” You mumbled. Ellie stopped playing with your hair, pulling you closer to her. Both your nude bodies pressed together. Her chin on the top of your head. “You should call her. Trust me. I have my regrets.” She expressed. Staring into space. You nodded. Taking Ellie’s advice. The two of you laid there quietly. Worn out from your earlier events. “Ellie.” You called out. “..hm..?” she replied. Coming up to her eye level you pressed your lips on hers. Kissing her softly. Not out of sexual intention. Just wanted to kiss her. Affectionately. She kissed you back. Not expecting that. You cupped her face gently. The two of you kissing for quite some time before Ellie broke the kiss. “Hey, I was thinking. Maybe you and me..could get some coffee one day.” She said hesitantly. Clearly nervous about what you would say. You smiled warmly. Thinking her nervousness was adorable. “Are you asking me on a date?” You said teasing her. “Um..yea. Yes yes I suppose.” She said stammering her words. You chuckled. “I would love to.” You assured her. Kissing her face. She kissed you back smiling into your skin. Soon after, both of you fell asleep in each others arms.

The morning after. You remained asleep on her chest. Quietly breathing. Ellie slowly arose. The sun shining through the blinds brightly on the other side of her room. She watched you for a moment in ‘awe’. Before gently moving trying not to awake you. Making sure you laid your head comfortably on the bed. Tucking you in. She put on one of her hoodies from her drawer. Trying to clean up a little after last night. Leaving her room quietly closing the door behind her. Joel’s door was cracked, he wasn’t in the room. Ellie could smell breakfast. Sunny side up and orange juice. Quietly walking down the hall. Scratching the back of her neck nervously. Seeing Joel in the kitchen cooking. His back turned to Ellie, he was at the stove. “Morning.” He spoke broadly. “Morning.” Ellie replied. Silence filled the room. Joel broke the silence. “Where’d you go last night?” He asked curious. Now setting out plates on the counter. “Um, nowhere really. I was just walking in circles.” She said trying not to let him sense her lies. He nodded at that. The both of them didn’t say much. I don’t think the pair even knew exactly what to say. “Hey um Joel.” Ellie said slowly approaching him. “I wanted to apologize. ..for last night. I was being fucking selfish. I should have never said everything I had said. I didn’t mean any of-“ Joel cut her off. “I know kiddo.” He said turning to her. Smiling. Ellie looked hopeful. Looking up at Joel. Kinda of teary. Joel pulled Ellie into a hug. Rubbing her back gently. Ellie hugged him back tightly. The feeling of forgiveness and love was mutual. Joel broke the hug. “Now help me set out plates.” Ellie nodded at that. “She was setting out plates, but there were three?. Joel turned his back around again to finish the food before announcing.

“Oh, go wake up your girlfriend too before the food gets cold.” He hinted. Sounding like he was grinning while saying that sentence. Ellie was absolutely speechless. Just staring at Joel’s back with her mouth open. Before she could say anything he turned around saying. “Well we don’t have all day do we? Hurry the food is getting cold as we speak.”

Joel was truly the water to Ellie’s fire.

#Spotify #tlou #black tumblr #lgbtqia #the last of us #ellie williams #joel miller #abby anderson #abby tlou #ellie tlou #smut #black reader #fanfic #wlw post #girls with tattoos #books and reading #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #elthecreator

160 notes · View notes

twistedinthreads · 6 months

Text

Lost In The Labyrinth

Felix Catton x Fem!Reader

one | two

Part 3.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: drugs, alcohol, Oliver Quick mention, unprotected sex, breeding kink (kind of? I guess?), Christmas party, brief mention of Christmas, but it's not really specified if reader celebrates or not, brief mention of visiting a cemetery, dead sister, making out, reader being an idiot, reader is American, reader is kind of a nepo baby

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: More sweet Felix. I wanted to keep going but it just felt right to end it here, so that's why it's a little bit shorter.

The Christmas party is more of the same; you snort a line with Farleigh in the bathroom and dance around with Vera to the music you’ve always claimed to hate. Everyone’s decked out in their attire, a sea of Santa hats and a blur of tinsel all around you while the DJ plays solely Christmas music. Someone definitely spiked the punch, and it’s got you all buzzed, though you elect to drink less, given the incident a few weeks ago.

“I’m gonna go hang out in the rec room for a minute,” you yell into Vera’s ear over the music. She nods, knowing what you’re truly saying; I’m feeling overwhelmed and need a second.

There’s a couple sitting on the couch making out in the vending machine light, but even more noticeable than that, Oliver Quick is playing a game of one person pool, shooting and then moving to the other side, a nearly pathetic display. You share a class with him, had been paired up for a project at the beginning of the year, and whenever you see him you strike up small talk, even when Michael Gavey burns holes in your skin with his stare. They’re usually together, which is why you find it strange that he’s all alone.

You walk over to him and observe him for a few seconds before speaking.

“Hey there,” he jumps and turns to you, giving you a shy smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“‘S’alright,” he mutters.

“You should come party with us,” you invite. It’s the nice thing to do, and Oliver’s been nothing but polite to you. Sure, you caught him staring at your tits once, but he’s a guy, so it’s less than surprising. “Everyone is really drunk and really keyed up… and there’s a cheese tray.” it’s almost comical, you in your cocktail dress covered in tinsel, standing here asking the loner to come to the party across the hall.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” he shakes his head. “I’m uh, I’m good here.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Okay. Suit yourself then.”

You fish out a couple dollars and get yourself a Coke from the vending machine, and then lean up against it while you drink, trying to avert your gaze from the kissing couple. It reminds you; you’d come with Felix, but have barely seen him the whole night, and your heart aches to be in his light, in his kind and welcoming presence.

“Bye, Oliver,” you wave at him as you exit the room, making your way back to the party once you’ve sobered up a bit and finished your soda. He waves back, lips pursed as he goes back to his solo game of pool.

Felix spots you immediately, eyes lighting up when he sees you. He yells your name across the room, and like a magnet, you run to him as he opens his arms for you to walk into.

“There you are!” He exclaims. “Been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry, needed a second,” you murmur as he lays kisses in your hair. Vera had made easy work of weaving silver tinsel through it to match your dress, easily swiping glittery eyeshadow across your lids to go along with it all. She’d even leant you some cheap earrings that looked like ornament bulbs. “I’m tired.”

“This party’s kinda lame,” he laments, rubbing your shoulder blade. “Wanna get out of here?”

Neither of you are drunk, just buzzed, mood heightened. The cocaine has mostly worn off, and now it’s just the beers working themselves through your system. Your kisses are languid, moving through the room without disconnecting from him. You push him down on your bed and crawl up his long body, your dress riding up as you sling a leg over his body to be fully straddling him. You lean down again, grabbing his pretty face in your hands, continuing to kiss him.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs when you pull away to unbutton his shirt. “So fucking gorgeous.”

He helps you take off your dress, and the two of you shift positions, your body caged underneath him as he so delicately kisses your cheeks and neck. “Fe?”

“Hmm,” he murmurs as he kisses between your breasts.

“Fuck me,” and he moans, abandoning the kisses across your belly to kiss you hard on the mouth again.

The sex is rough, his hips thrusting quickly as you grind back onto his cock. Your arms are thrown around his neck loosely, and he makes quick work of kissing your neck and face as he moans, your sweat mixing together when he rests his forehead against yours, mouth curled into a snarl.

“I’m close,” he announces, and the tone of it makes you moan. “I’m close.”

“You can come inside me,” you groan. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill. Please.”

You feel yourself on the edge, stars bursting on the edge of your vision, your entire body tingling and legs shaking with the impact of it all, and you gasp out words that feel forbidden, words that you can’t control. It’s a strangled I love you, and you don’t even realize that you’ve said it until his mouth opens in a moan.

You slap a hand over your mouth, and Felix looks at you with so much softness, just before he spills himself inside of you. You groan as he pulls out of you and rolls to the side, and you quickly move to get up out of his bed.

“I should go,” you mutter quickly.

“Woah, love, it’s okay!” He grabs for your arm, but you pull it away, hiding your embarrassment.

“Felix, I really have to go,” you don’t. You could use the studying excuse, your final two exams coming up on Monday, but you’ll just slink back to your dorm and go to bed, overthinking it all. You know you will. “I’ll talk to you later-“

“At least let me clean you up,” his big brown eyes plead with you, and you relent. He disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a towel, wiping you off gently as he presses kisses on your forehead. He doesn’t speak, though, and you sigh in relief at the fact. Once he’s done, he presses one final kiss to your forehead, and you pull your underwear and dress back on.

“Please just talk to me,” he begs from the bed. “Please? We won’t see each other for a month and we should have a conversation.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” it comes out quickly, almost garbled, and you don’t bother to pull on your silver heels, carrying them instead in your fingers as you make quick work of getting out of there, muttering fuck repeatedly as you leave his building.

He comes to your door a couple hours later and you pretend to be asleep, the knocks on your door making your head pound even more as you overthink. He texts you, you don’t reply, and he backs off, not wanting to be a creep.

He tries again on Tuesday, but you’re already halfway across the Atlantic when he comes knocking.

He calls during break, you don’t answer. You put your mind on other things, like your mother’s Christmas dinner party and your father’s New Year’s bash with the remaining crew from the show he’s shooting. It feels like a movie, sitting around, skulking while he tries to reach you. One voicemail in particular sticks in your mind, the one where he calls you baby, and it sounds so saccharine sliding off of his tongue.

Come on, baby. This is stupid! We need to talk about this.

Your stepsister takes you to the AMC on 42nd Street on Christmas, and afterwards, as you sit at a tiny Chinese restaurant feasting on crab rangoons and soup, she tells you to get your shit together. You still don’t reach out.

Your break is uneventful. You visit your sister’s grave in Montauk the morning before you leave for Carolina, and you spend days sitting on the beach at your dad’s house, despite the cold.

You have one thing on your mind as you return to Oxford. Your campus is littered with students, all excited to be back with one another, refreshed and ready for new classes. Your flight arrived late, and students mill about the quad, showing off their expensive Christmas presents. A couple people shout your name, and you wave politely before launching toward Felix’s building, praying he’s in his room.

You knock, shifting from foot to foot with your hands entwined, rubbing your thumb across your palm.

The creak of the door opening has your stomach churning, and as he reveals himself, hair mussed up, in nothing but a pair of boxers, you can’t help it. You lunge forward and kiss him.

“I’m sorry. I’m such a fucking idiot,” you say after you pull away, and he’s grinning like a fool.

“Yeah,” he whispers as he grabs your elbow gently, ushering you inside. “A little bit.” It makes you pout.

“I was so embarrassed,” you admit as you sit on the bed with him. “Like, who does that? It just came out, and I couldn’t control it, and I felt so stupid afterwards because we’re not even together like that-“

“We could be,” he interrupts, the words so nonchalant you wonder if you heard him right.

“Huh?”

“We could be together,” he shrugs. “I thought about asking you that night but you just ran off, so…”

“I didn’t want you to think you had to say it back if you didn’t mean it,” you say, playing with his fingers. “Lana told me to get my shit together but I didn’t wanna talk about this over the phone.”

He grabs your face, looking straight into your eyes. “I would’ve said it back that night. I would have. Because I do love you. I didn’t know if it was just an in the moment thing.”

“It wasn’t,” you admit, looking straight into his brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to say it, yet, but it was real.”

Your entire body is quivering in his hold, under his stare, so overwhelming you have to look away for a second.

“If you want this,” his thumb caresses the skin of your cheek. “I want this.” You lean your forehead against his, tears welling up in your eyes. The jet lag is catching up to you, and he’s still looking at you like the only person in the world. The sheer intensity of his gaze turns your insides into mush.

“I want this, Felix,” Your lips are touching his ever so slightly, so you breathe the words into his mouth before he kisses you. It grows intense, his tongue slipping into your mouth before you push him away gently. “It’s late, I’m exhausted. Still on New York time.”

“Stay with me,” he’s all sweet, words syrupy and soft. “We don’t have to do anything.”

And, of course, you relent, falling into his familiar and warm arms.

#felix catton #felix catton x reader #saltburn #felix catton fic #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #saltburn x reader #saltburn fic

80 notes · View notes

acciopietro · 2 years

Note

Hi, I have a request.

So like Pietro and the reader are in a relationship and Pietro is really insecure about him being not able to give reader enough gifts and attention. (Reader is from a wealthy family)

He's scared that Reader could leave him for a wealthier person than him. Reader reassure Pietro that they won't leave him.

Yea, so angsty & fluff.

The reader can be gender neutral, I don't really care.

Thanks, I love how you write

Have a nice day.

anything from you - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x gn! reader

summary: pietro’s unsure whether or not he’s enough

word count: 1662

tw: no!

a/n: this was such a cute idea! i apologize for how short this is, i'm trying to clear out my drafts LOL! this is unedited so if u see any grammar or spelling mistakes lmk!!!! <3

"I CAN'T ACCEPT THIS," PIETRO'S mouth had fallen agape at the sight of the small box he opened, resting it on his lap. The light flashed off of the glittering silver of the watch inside, it's glass face perfectly clear, so well made that it looked like there was nothing there. "This is... this is very expensive gift."

"You have to accept it," you grinned, shrugging your shoulders. "I saw it and thought you'd like it."

"Yes, and I-- I do, but..." Pietro opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "I have never worn something so expensive before."

"Firsts for everything!" you giggled and gave him a bashful smile. He pursed his lips, melting at the sweetness of your face, and glanced back down at the watch. Your face sunk a bit at his hesitation, and you grabbed the bag that previously held the box. "I can return it, if you don't like it."

"No, I... I love it," Pietro grabbed ahold of your hand, smoothing his thumb over the top of your knuckles before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. "Multumesc, dragă."

---

“AHA!” Pietro mumbled to himself, pulling his hand out from behind the couch cushion of the couch in the Avengers Compound’s foyer, another quarter pinched between his fingers. He was lucky enough to live there and earn a decent wage, but he certainly did not have as much disposable income as say, Tony Stark, or even Y/N L/N.

“Pietro,” came Wanda’s voice from behind him, her tone slow as though she were confused. He turned his head to see her standing there, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Right now, I am counting,” he said, sitting down and dumping out his pocket, muttering the numbers under his breath. “I have a total of twenty-three dollars and...seventy-three cents. But then once I add the money from my wallet, I’ll have about...”

“What do you need this for?” Wanda sauntered over, sitting across from him and his measly pile of dented dollar bills and dirty coins. Pietro didn’t respond, still counting in his head.

“Sixty-five dollars and eighty-two cents,” Pietro nodded his head, muttering under his breath. “That might be enough...”

“Nice watch,” Wanda complimented. “From Y/N, yes?”

“Yeah,” Pietro muttered, rubbing the band of it with his thumb. “They are very generous.”

“I see.”

“I want to buy them something,” Pietro told his sister. “But... I cannot really afford something very expensive, you know? So maybe something for fifty dollars. Or maybe more, but I... I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you just make them something? Or take them some place nice?”

“I could,” Pietro scratched his chin, dropping his shoulders in exhaustion. “But they’re always buying me things, I feel like I need to return the favor.”

“You don’t owe them anything, though,” Wanda told him gently. “Just because they buy you all these things doesn’t mean you need to buy them things, it just means you need to gift them with other things. Experiences, homemade things... as long as there is love in it, no?”

“I am not wealthy like them,” Pietro sighed. “What if they think I am using them for their money? I need to show them that --”

“They do not think that,” Wanda gave him a gentle look. “They love you, trust me. I was with them when they picked out that watch for you.”

“Yeah, well,” Pietro didn’t have much to say in response to that. “They’d be better off with someone who can afford to take care of them.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Wanda shook her head. “You take care of them just fine.”

“Hmph,” Pietro only shrugged and began to leave the room. “Maybe. But they could do better.”

---

“Wanda?” you said, poking your head into the kitchen. Said woman stood over a steaming pot, stirring the contents with a long wooden spoon. Vision glided into the room, holding onto a container of paprika looking triumphant.

“Found it!” he said cheerfully. He turned his head and grinned at the sight of you. “Oh, hello, Y/N. Did you want some paprikash?”

“Maybe later, thanks Vision,” you smiled. “Have either of you seen Pietro?”

“Uhm, I’d assume he’d be in his room,” Wanda guessed.

“No, he’s not in there,” you frowned, sitting on one of the bar stools. “I’ve been looking around for him all day. I think he’s avoiding me.”

You knew Wanda and Vision shared a glance, but you were too busy staring down at the ring on your finger to say anything. Pietro had gotten it for you in the early stages of your relationship; you hadn’t the slightest clue where it was from or if the gems were real, but it was beautiful and fit like a glove. That was all that mattered, anyways. You twisted it around on your finger, frowning.

“Did I upset him?” you asked Wanda. “Has he said anything to you?”

Wanda gave a quick, almost unnoticeable glance at Vision. “Erm... he’s not upset at you, no.”

“What is it, then?” you pressed. There was a pregnant pause of silence.

“Look, I think you should talk to him,” Wanda trailed off, her brows slowly raising as she glanced behind you. Vision did nothing, however he was not slick about the way his eyes widened and he mouthed, “Go!”

You whipped your head around, and before you set eyes on Pietro, the blur of his red sweatshirt caught your eye and you knew he had run off. You sighed, running a hand across your scalp.

“Sorry,” Vision apologized to you, bowing his head. “It’s... it’s your business, you and him.”

“Yes, I know,” you sighed again. “Thanks, I guess.”

“We’ll save some paprikash for you!” Wanda called out to you as you disappeared down the hallway. The lights of Pietro’s room were on, and you could hear the soft sound of a record playing from outside the door. It was Billy Joel’s The Stranger, one of his favorite American records; you had bought it for him, along with Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John.

With “Vienna” playing from the old record player, you creaked open the door. Pietro was at his desk, hunched over a piece of paper with a ballpoint pen in his hand. He was humming along softly under his breath, scribbling away and not noticing you. You walked up behind him and put a hand on his arm, bending over to place your chin on his shoulder. He jumped.

“You scared me,” he muttered, hastily folding up the paper and shoving it into a drawer. “Did you knock?”

“No, sorry,” you drew your face away from him, glancing at where he hid the paper. “Did you want me to leave?”

“I--” he hesitated. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay,” you rocked on your toes for a second before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “You okay? Whatcha doing?”

“Just drawing,” he sighed, putting the pen down and leaning back in his chair. “Bored, I guess.”

“Haven’t seen you all day,” you continued.

“Been tired,” he lied through his teeth.

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “You slept for like ten hours.”

Pietro’s lips quirked up. “Yeah, true.”

“What’s going on?” you asked bluntly, patting the empty space on the bed beside you. Pietro eyed it for a second, as though hesitating, before getting up and taking a seat beside you, his knees resting against yours, shoulders pressed against one another. You lifted your hand, running it through his hair. “What’s goin’ on in that brain of yours?”

“Just...” Pietro paused. “Don’t you ever... aren’t you ever upset that I can’t... that I can’t really do stuff for you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure what he meant.

“Like this watch,” Pietro ran his thumb over the face of the shiny gold watch on his wrist, the band glinting under the soft lights of his bedroom. “It’s... it’s great. I love it. But I can’t buy you stuff like this. I can’t... I don’t have...”

“That never upsets me,” you told him honestly. “I don’t even think about that kind of stuff.”

“You could have a guy who can buy you things,” Pietro went on. “A real rich one, you know, take you shopping and whatnot.”

“I can take myself shopping,” you joked, bumping your shoulder with his. He gave a small smile. “And I don’t need that, nor do I want that. I want you, and whatever you come with is perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Pietro scrunched up his face, his pale eyes glazed over. You ran your hand through the icy tips of his hair, and he leaned into your touch like a puppy being scratched behind the ear. “Sometimes I worry that you’ll leave.”

“Leave?”

“For someone with more money,” Pietro mumbled.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you kissed his cheek. “I don’t want to leave, and I’m not going to anytime soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you kissed his temple. “I am.”

Pietro said nothing, his brows furrowed and his nose slightly scrunched. You put your hand under his chin, turning his face so the two of you were eye to eye.

"You are perfectly perfect, Piet,” you told him firmly. You felt his face turn hot underneath your hand. “I’ve never wished for anything more or less from you. It’s like I’m Goldilocks and you’re the porridge that’s just right."

“Mm,” was all he said for a moment, leaning into you. After a pregnant pause of silence, he said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah, I figured,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging his side. He pressed into you, hugging you back, the warmth from his arms engulfing you. “My next gift for you will be an American nursery rhyme book. How’s that?”

He let out a laugh, holding you tighter. “Anything from you is perfect.”

---

translations:

"Multumesc, dragă." - Thank you, darling.

taglist:

@niallhoransupremacy @childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777@mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro marvel #pietro maximoff x yn #pietro #maximoff #mcu #pietro maximoff fanfic #fanficiton #pietro maximoff fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #atj #wanda maximoff #vision

816 notes · View notes

strayflowersstarsandlove · 9 months

Text

Anytime (bangchan)

"HEARTS ON FIRE TONIGHT FEEL MY BOOONES IGNITE LOVE FEELS LIKE WAAR WAAR FEELS LIKE WAAAR WAA-". You abruptly stop your tone deaf singing over old all time low songs and gasp when your car suddenly starts slowing down by itself, all the little warning lights on your dashboard turn on simultaneously and a screeching sound starts blaring out of nowhere.

You act in no time. Slamming your foot hard on the break you turn on your right blinker and veer your vehicle on the side of the desolated road by using pure engine inertia until the car just shuts down on its own, leaving you in a stunned silence, bleary eyed and slightly panicky as to whatever the fuck just happened.

You look in your rear view mirror and make sure the road is actually empty and thank whatever god up there for allowing you to pull to the side relatively safely, considering you could have just caused a mass chain rear end collision if it wasn't for your fast instincts. And just the general desolation of this side road you always drive down on your way back home from work when avoiding the worst of traffic is your main priority. Except that it is quite a dark, scarcely illuminated, less than safe road. And you are alone. And your car has most definitely just broken down. And it's almost 9pm on a winter night. Crap.

You swallow down that slimy, unsettling felling creeping up in your throat and try to revive the engine a few more times to no avail. OK. It's fine. It's going to be fine. I'm definitely not just stranded here in the middle of nowhere am I? You talk to yourself out loud, desperately trying to keep your sanity as you finally decide to fish your phone out of your bag and dial up the emergency tow truck number. After a couple rings a dispatcher picks up and you try your best to remain calm and explain the situation you are in as thoroughly as you can: "right, an operator is on its way but it might take up to an hour and half m'am, we suggest you keep safe and display the emergency triangle tripod roadside while you wait".

Once the dispatcher hangs up you sigh in frustration, "now what", you mumble, a shiver already trailing down your back from both the cold and the slight panic threatening to build up in your belly. You do as instructed and then quickly get back in your car, now fully shivering from the cold: how the hell am I gonna wait here in the cold for an hour and not freeze or get robbed in the mean time? Acting merely on impulse you unlock your phone once again and click on the emergency contact icon, silently praying Chan is not currently wearing his thousands dollars noise cancelling headphones in the studio.

"Hello? Y/n what's up?". You exhale loudly, a little silver of hope twinkling in the progressively darker night, "hey Channie… Sorry to call you at this hour…", Chan giggles on the other end of the line and you can almost imagine the way his eyes are crinkling and his dimples are showing, "I've literally just started working, not even 30 minutes ago. I'm a night owl you know", "hahaha yeah… So I uh… I'm kinda stranded on the side of the road? I'm like.. I think I'm like a little under 15 miles away from home but my car broke down… And the emergency truck won't be here for another hour or so", "WHAT? oh my god are you okay?".

You can basically hear Chan springing to his feet so fast his spinning chair rolls away from beneath him, the concern and slight alarm in his voice something you rarely get to hear from him. Chan is and has always been your rock. Through heaven and high water, you knew you could rely on him ever since second grade when one day you had forgotten your lunch box at home and found yourself sitting alone in the school canteen, your stomach grumbling as you watched all the kids eating their meals so enthusiastically, and this little boy with short dark hair and the cutest dimples stepped away from his friends table and offered you half of his sandwich and half of his apple.

That simple, kind gesture had become the start of your almost 2 decade long friendship, he went from always stuffing his lunchbox with extra food for you just in case you forgot again to holding your hand in the ER at 15 when you had the most painful appendicitis to helping you move in into your first big girl apartment, carrying all the heavy boxes for you without you even asking, him being the true gentleman he was. No wonder you loved him to pieces.

"I'm okay, just a little cold", you mumble, trying to mask the uncertainty and panic in your voice, "I'll be right there. Please send me your location. And lock yourself inside. Is the engine totally dead? Can you turn on the radio without starting the ignition?", Chan asks, his voice now more even and calm, his natural care taker mode activating instantly once he assessed the situation.

You try to turn on the radio as he suggested, and to your surprise, it works just fine judging by the sudden blasting of guitar riffs on the very same Love Like War track you were listening to earlier, you flinch at the volume that seems ridiculously too loud now that your basically parked and alone in the dead of the road, and press your button down to lower it a bit.

"Yeah the radio is working fine", "okay, great. Keep it on until I get there, and turn on your mainlights and all four of your blinkers as well". Once again, you do as you're told, you quickly send him your geolocalisation and double check all the lights are still fully functioning while you hear Chan scrambling to grab his keys and jacket and heading out the door, "done. I'm twinkling like a Christmas tree right now", you joke half heartedly, your breath starting to condense from the cold when you speak, "great, santa is coming!", he giggles and the pauses, "do you want me to stay on the line with you?", he asks more seriously, and something pleasant, unexpectedly warm settles in your heart and you smile to yourself, "it's okay. I don't want to risk distracting you while you drive. I'll be here, listening to my emo playlist, you drive safely please", "that's a good idea. It's going to be alright ye? Just hang in there".

You think 15 minutes cannot last an eternity. But that's exactly how long it feels like you've been freezing in the cold for until you see Chan's car pull up. As soon as you see him turning off his headlights you leap out of your car and fly into his open wide arms, instantly crashing into his chest as he lifts you off the ground, hands already vigorously rubbing your back, trying to warm you up:"I don't think I've ever been so relieved, I'm so happy to see you oh my god", you chuckle, your teeth chattering as Chan envelopes you into his arms, even unzipping his jacket and pulling it over your arms to warm you up, and you have to admit…. His jacket smells divine. He smells divine. Signature vanilla and musk and… Manly.

It's inexplicable but Chan has been smelling the same, musky but sweet, fresh, manly scent ever since he was like 19 or so. "Likewise, I'm so happy you're safe", he giggles, patting your hair, "now get in my car and warm yourself up a bit, I turned up the ac and left an extra jacket on the passanger seat for you". There it is. Again. That fuzzy, warm feeling in your heart that makes your cheeks flash red for no reason. "What about you? Are you not going to wait in there for the tow truck with me?", you ask confusedly and he giggles, his deep dimples on full show as he squeaks, "of course I am, I just want to check your car real quick. Maybe push it slightly to the very edge of the road some more so it'll be out of the way should cars drive down here".

You let Chan do his thing and quickly get in his car, just eager to warm yourself up, to finally feel like you have hands again. The night feels so cold your fingers had slowly started to become numb from the low temperatures. Once you're wrapped up in your best friend's spare jacket and huddled close to the air vent, you take a deep breath and stretch out your hands, allowing yourself to relax and soak up the relief running through your veins.

Chan had this power, this ability to make everything feel fine again. You had know him basically your whole life and could recall each and every time he managed to make everything better, each and every time he was there for you, reliable and strong and supportive like no one else you had ever met.

"Ffuck it's cold!". As soon as Chan climbs back in the car he lurches for the air vent, turning up the warm air setting to the maximum and you giggle at his poor state, offering your arms the same way he did for you just a few minutes ago, "aww thank you, sweetheart", he says over your shoulder, thick aussie accent and giggles and all as he squeezes you, a thin layer of sweat from the exertion of having to manually push your car to the side, his still persistent, scent travelling up your nostrils.

You swallow down whatever stupid funny feeling in your throat and sigh happily, "thank YOU for rescuing me, as per usual", you confess, suddenly not feeling like letting go of him just yet, kind of enjoying the way his back muscles feel underneath your palms, the way his arms are tight around you, cocconing you. Chan giggles again and pats your back, his chin digging into your shoulder, his little silver hoop earring getting stuck in your hair, "anytime",he replies and you can tell he's about to pull away from you but something tugs at your insides and before he can even move you're clamping down his back, stretching yourself out of the passanger seat just so you can reach out even more to him and hug him even titghter, "not yet, please don't let go just yet", you murmur.

You're not entirely sure if it's just the adrenaline dying down or the fact that you had tried to power through all your fear and freezing bones and now yuur body just physically needed to be held but you hold on onto him for just a little longer. He goes quiet. He silently pushes back his seat away from the steering wheel and hoists your body up until you're sitting in his lap, your chest firmly pressed into his, his cheek pressed onto the side of your face as he rubs his hands up and down your back.

You smile to yourself at the feeling of being this close to him, this comforted, the warm hair hitting your back, the quiet stillness of this moment that feels slightly surreal. "You are safe now, you know that right? I've got you, nothing bad's gonna happen", Chan speaks softly and you nod, now finally letting go of him while still sitting in his lap, his hands resting tentatively on your hips until you place your own on top of his, silently reassuring him it's okay for him to keep them there: "not a single day goes by where I don't feel safe with you, Chris. You... You are my safe place". You smile at him. A very assured smile too.

You don't even know where all this confidence came out from but you feel calm. Unusually calm and confident and secure, as if you're wrapped up in a warm blanket that'll shield you from all harm. "Really? I'm your safe place?", the young, beautiful man looks at you incredulously, his lips twitching into the biggest grin, and you nod sincerely, "yeah. I figured it's high time I let you know. Though I do fear sometimes you're way too mature for your age and you probably feel like you carry enough of a burden on your shoulders and me adding more responsability on that really isn't ideal but - I mean - like... Yeah like-".

You feel your cheeks heat up and your tongue twisting on its self but you keep at it, you screw your eyes shut and purse your lips together, recollecting your thoughts more coherently before continuing,"what I meant to say is: I'm so grateful for you. You make me feel safe. And secure. Always. And I wish I had told you this sooner but more times than not I think you're already so preoccupied with being this awesome leader and role model and just overall wholesome guy that-that you don't need someone else to take care of and add to the pile of things and people that have put you in this spot. I wish you could be your age and act your age freely, enjoying being young and successful and not just having to always be a fort for everyone".

You catch yourself panting a little from your whole speech and when you finally open your eyes again you find Chan smiling warmly, gazing at you with the gentlest look in his eyes, looking at you as if he's mentally hugging you like he always does with anyone and you just never noticed he did with you too.

He sighs contently and wraps his hands around your fingers, bringing your knuckles up to his chin, stopping just short of his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you, "thank you, y/n. I'm not-I'm not great with taking compliments but...you... I really appreciate every single thing you just mentioned. More than you could ever know. But please don't worry about me, I chose this, I enjoy it. You're never going to be a burden, never going to add to any pile",he pauses, taking a slightly deeper breath before continuing, "you're actually that one thing that makes my heart feel very light, very airy".

You let your fingers slip out of his gentle grip and cup his face, your body moving faster than your mind, your actions preceding your own thoughts as you lean closer and kiss him in the spur and of the moment. His hands immediately flying to your hips, pulling your body closer to his as he enthusiastically kisses you back. And God does it feel good. Does it feel right. Just so right. Unexpectedly but so inevitably right.

"Sorry,mmh I'm sorry", Chan mumbles, his lips still attached to yours as he tries to contain his giggles, "what are you sorry for?", you ask, breathless, and he circles your waist with his arms, resting his forehead against yours, "I should've asked. I definitely should have asked if it was okay to kiss you".

You burst into the happiest giggles and tilt your head back, "Christopher I kissed you. I should have asked. If anyone should be sorry it's me", you admit sincerely but he shakes his head, "I kissed you back. Straight away", "yeah! please do it more", you reply boldly which makes him giggle and giggle and squeak out of pure joy, "does this mean I can ask you out sometimes? And have more kisses?", he teases and you play with the collar of his shirt, pulling at it so he has to speak one inch away from your face, less than an inch away from your lips, "anytime. Any day of the week. Any time of the day or the night", you reply eagerly and this time around he cups your face and pulls you to him, kissing you so sweetly yet so passionately you momentarily forget you're both still in his car, all lights on, alone in the dead of the night until you feel something tapping impatiently on the driver side window: "uhm sorry to interrupt .... This is Ted. Emergency tow truck service, did you guys call?".

110 notes · View notes